It was a dreary day at the beach, and I was bored. My husband was playing golf, and I decided I needed to walk on the boardwalk. There were plenty of couples and families, being a holiday, the boardwalk was crowded. As a Conservative Jewish lady, who was raised Orthodox, my dress was rather plain, with a beige sundress and sandals.
I bought an ice cream and sat on a bench, watching the beach people go by.
Young girls went by wearing barely anything with nothing left to the imagination. I wondered whether that thin cloth hurt running through their butts. There were beefy-looking young men, who probably spent hours in the gym. I enjoyed watching them, and one even gave me a little smile and wink. I’d be on my knees before him in a heartbeat, but he was with a beautiful young lady, with barely any clothes on and a nice chest too.
I thought, in another life, would I like to be one of these girls?
A few older men walked by, a few glancing over to the plain Jewish lady sitting on the bench, and quickly looked away so that their wives didn’t see them looking. I’ve caught my husband looking at ladies, trying to be discreet. This never bothered me.
Then I noticed this man looking at me from across the boardwalk. He was standing outside one of those beach souvenir shops, waiting for his family to finish shopping. Many people were strolling along the boardwalk between us. He seemed glued to the boardwalk waiting for his wife or family to finish shopping yet fixated on me.
I looked to my right and left, perhaps there was a sexy young thing standing nearby that he was checking out, but that wasn’t the case. He knew I had noticed him and gave me a small smile. What was I supposed to do, I was used to Alpha Males who weren’t afraid to make a move, so self-confident in their manhood. An alpha male would walk over and state his intentions. Or was I supposed to walk over to him?
He looked like he was in his mid-fifties, in fair shape, with thin hair, medium height, and a nice tan. I had nothing better to do, so I thought about this stranger and whether I could see myself being seduced by him. Strange how two people can communicate, subconsciously, from a distance. I was thinking sexual thoughts, yet I was not staring at him. When I would glance up, he smiled, and I returned to my thoughts.
I was watching a young family go by and thinking of the past when I walked with my husband and kids on this boardwalk. Occasionally he diverted his attention to the store, making sure whoever was inside was still shopping.
Just then, his wife came out clutching a bag and handing it to him and they began to move down the boardwalk, with one more discrete glance and smile.
I thought, Well, that was fun and interesting and maybe a tad creepy.
The man and his wife merged into the crowded boardwalk, now lost in the crowd. I figured that was just a game he was playing. I was playing along, what else did I have to do?
I finished the ice cream and decided to walk in the same direction that they went. Ten minutes later, I heard a man ask, “What’s a pretty lady doing on the boardwalk all alone?”
It was the stranger, I didn’t notice him standing outside another store while his wife was continuing her shopping.
I stopped, caught off guard, and he said, “Come, stand over here.”
Pointing to his right, away from the store entrance. He looked in the store and feeling safe, he introduced himself, Tony. I said my name was Marsha.
He repeated his question, asking, “What’s a pretty lady doing on the boardwalk all alone?”
I said, “My husband was playing golf.”
He smirked and said, “Golf is such a boring game.”
I decided to play along and asked, “What was his wife shopping for.”
I thought I would catch him off guard by mentioning his wife.
He answered calmly, “Typical beach junk for the grandkids.” He checked inside the store and returned his attention to me, asking, “How long will your husband be away?”
I thought this was a bold question, especially with his wife nearby. What was his plan? I was intrigued.
I said that he would be away for a few more hours.
He said, “His wife would be meeting a girlfriend shortly.” Then he boldly asked where I was staying.
He played his hand well, and now the decision was squarely with me. He checked the store, and I realized the clock was ticking. He finally looked nervous and asked, “Meet me, you will not be sorry.”
Without any thought, I said, “We are staying on 20th Street, house 202, blue single family.”
He smiled and said, “Great, I will see you in half an hour.”
Then he disappeared into the store.
I asked myself, “What did I just do?”
I quickly walked away, nervously back to the house, deep in thought. I felt guilt, fear, and yet, desire.
There was no time to clean up, no time to prepare, maybe he was kidding. I didn’t bother changing clothes but removed my bra and panties. Desire was my only thought, and I told myself that he wasn’t a bad-looking man.
I poured some wine and drank it, then poured another glass. Half an hour soon became forty-five minutes, and I began to wonder, was he just playing a game? Just as I began to relax, there was a knock at the door.
Standing at the door with a big smile, Tony, the boardwalk stranger. I questioned my sanity, but at least if I am murdered, his image will be on the door camera. I invited him in and reintroduced himself. His voice was strong, a heavy Italian accent.
He looked around the beach home and asked if it was mine. No, it was a friend’s home. I led him into the living room and turned to pour some wine, my third glass, and offered him some. Instead, he came up behind me, gently holding my body against his.
His hands roamed the outside of my sundress, feeling my breasts, tummy, and then my vagina lips. I had removed my bra and panties, and he noticed and said he was happy that I prepared for him.
He continued to caress my body, while I was still holding the wine bottle. His hands, strong and calloused, reach under my dress. I realize I like his dominance, his taking charge. He was gentle, but firmly in control. He kissed my neck, and I felt him pull me closer to him, feeling his growing cock against my back.
He slipped off my sundress and I was naked, the wine was no longer a thought. I managed to put the bottle down, as he spun me around and stepped back, caressing my small breast. My nipples were excited, and he leaned over and kissed and nibbled them, sending a wave of pleasure through my body.
He began to lower himself, licking my tummy and then my inner thighs. My legs felt weak, as his thick fingers prodded my vagina, feeling all the right places. I closed my eyes and felt waves of pleasure. Then he licked my vagina lips, pressing his tongue deep in me, and I moaned and quaked, and was about to have a strong orgasm, but then he stopped.
He said, “Not yet, my beautiful Jewish princess, not yet.”
He was in control of my body, as he removed his shirt, displaying the signs of being middle age yet still muscular. He was probably one of the boys with the hard chest walking with the girls who wore barely anything.
He placed my small hands on his chest, and I caressed his muscles. He guided my hands lower and soon I was feeling his hard cock over his shorts. His manhood felt large. He pressed my shoulders, guiding me to my knees and instructed me to remove his shorts. I slid his shorts down; his cock was straining to be released. I then removed his boxer underwear, and his thick, large, and circumcised cock, now released, hit my face.
I moved my hands to hold this wonderful cock, and he held me back. Then, a few moments later, he allowed me to caress his shaft and balls, anxious for his manhood to enter my waiting mouth.
He remained in full control, telling me to be patient, “My lil Jewish slut.”
The transition from a gentle lover to a strong, aggressive one was apparent. I was no longer the beautiful Jewish princess; I was not a slut.
My fingers caressed his hard and large cockhead, and I could tell, he was ready to fuck my mouth. His hands gripped my head and hair, and in a strong commanding voice, he said, “Suck my cock, slut, I know you want it.”
I admitted to myself that I wanted it and that I needed to taste and feel his cock in my mouth.
I felt weak, and submissive to this man and said, “Yes Sir. Yes, I need you.”
With that, he forced his shaft deep into my mouth, controlling my motion with pressure on the back of my head and pulling on my hair. I looked up at this strong man and he was looking down at me, his face hard and intense. When I licked a sensitive spot on the underside of his cock, he closed his eyes but then re-opened them. When I closed my eyes, he pulled my hair and demanded I open it and look at him. It felt erotic sucking his cock while staring up at his powerful face.
I tasted some precum, it was sweet, and I wanted to taste all of him. Yet, once again, he slowed his cadence and withdrew his cock from my hungry mouth.
He said, with a laugh, “You are a hungry lil bitch. Be patient, my slut, you will be fed.”
He commanded me to take him to bed. We stood and I led him down the hall, while he was still holding my hair. I guided him to a guest room, where he yanked on my hair and said, “C’mon my married little slut, take me to your husband’s bed.”
Once in the master bedroom, he gently pushed me down on the bed and came down on top of me, pressing his thick cock hard inside me. He held my arms down while “fucking” me. I felt his cock slam into my cervix and moaned and writhed uncontrollably, while waves of pleasure ran through my body. Sensing my pleasure, he said, “You like my cock, don’t you, you little married whore. Tell me you love it, slut. Tell me!”
I repeated his words. “Yes, Sir, I love your cock, Sir.”
He continued, saying, “Tell me what you are. Tell me you are a slut.”
Once again, I repeated his words, “Yes, Sir, I am a slut, Sir.”
With that, he gripped my arms harder, thrusting his cock deep inside me. I felt his body stiffen, his muscles tighten, and with his eyes shit, he came strong inside me. The intense look on his face was so erotic, especially knowing I gave him this pleasure.
I felt each spurt and watched him gasp for air. I thought for a moment he was having a heart attack. Then he relaxed and rolled off me, and gently pushed my head toward his still spurting cock. I licked up his tasty warm seed and suckled on his semi-hard cock, until he was breathing normally.
Then he pulled me close and cuddled and kissed me gently.
He said, in a low voice, “You are a sexy lady, Ms. Marsha.”
He was a talker, and I asked him about his glances on the boardwalk. He said his first GF, was an older Orthodox Jewish woman. He was sixteen and she was married forty-five years old. He grew up with Jewish families nearby and when he saw me, dressed so plain and simple, he thought I looked like Deva, his long-ago Jewish lover.
I found myself resting on his chest, relaxed and happy, still gently stroking his cock, which grew and became hard in my tiny hands. He lifted my body, so I was sitting up against some pillows and he slid his once again hard again cock into my mouth. I could not see his face but felt his motion from slow and gentle to fast and urgent. He was “fucking” my mouth, but he was not using any of the derogatory words. He was about to climax, and he said, “You wanted to be fed, my sexy Jewish lady, it’s all yours.”
He tasted sweet and was quite a mouthful. He slowed his cadence, and I felt him go soft. When he withdrew, he thanked me, explaining his wife doesn’t allow him to cum in her mouth. I told him I loved taking his come in my mouth.
He cuddled and gently kissed me again, then, looked at his watch. He apologized saying that he must be getting back to the wife.
As he dressed and was leaving, he said, “You are truly a sexy lady.”
Then he added, “And quite a slut too.”
