Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
NOTES: This is a simple, wholly consensual male-female sex story featuring CFNM and various sex acts. All characters featured and mentioned are over the age of eighteen. This is a complete work of fiction. I am currently endeavouring to write a CFNM “Oz Beach Boy” story in every Literotica category. This time: “Erotic Couplings”.
It was a clear, hot and humid summer’s day in Byron Bay, Australia. I was swimming in the crystal blue water off a deserted stretch of beach clad in just a small pair of Speedo Aquashorts.
Refreshed and energised, I made my way out of the softly rolling surf, and moved up the warm sand of the beach and toward my towel.
I could see people in the distance much further down the beach, but I was essentially alone on this gorgeous strip of pristine, undeveloped coastline.
I was up in Byron Bay from Sydney for a long awaited and well deserved four-days of vacation time, and I’d only arrived that morning.
On the lush far north coast of New South Wales, the very popular tourist town of Byron Bay is one of my favourite places in Australia to holiday.
The town boasts a slew of beautiful beaches, ranging from bustling to completely deserted; and many great restaurants, pubs and bars.
There’s a vibrant, friendly social scene; a wide variety of tourists from around Australia and the rest of the world; and an indefinable “vibe” that makes it a joy to visit.
The justifiably famous Byron Bay is both a popular destination for holidaying celebrities, and an area with a long history of promoting and nurturing alternative lifestyles.
Hippies, artists, musicians, surfers and street people happily mingle with the wealthy and the well-dressed in this modern coastal paradise.
As a sex addicted 25-year-old exhibitionist Aussie male always on the lookout for raunchy fun of any stripe, Byron Bay has also offered up a lot of sexy fun.
There’s a perennial party atmosphere in the air, and I’ve bumped up against a lot of exciting and beautiful women keen for a good time while visiting Byron.
Groups of ladies holidaying together and enjoying themselves happily and noisily
move from bar to bar by night, and then soak up the sun by day.
By various well-tested means, I always try to get myself amongst them in one way or another, with wildly varying degrees of success.
In my past trips to Byron Bay, I’d been lucky enough to have sex with all sorts of extraordinary women, in a variety of situations.
On one trip, there was a German backpacker waitress; a cute nineteen-year-old volunteer lifeguard; and a 43-year-old Indonesian council street cleaner.
On another sojourn, I got down with an eighteen-year-old with enormous breasts I picked up in a gelato shop; and an Aboriginal street busker blessed with a beautiful voice and a great body.
On another vacation, I slept with a hard-partying thirty-something single mum who liked being on top and nearly crushed my balls; a very pretty overweight hotel concierge; and a lovely forty-year-old former pro surfer.
Byron Bay has been very, very good to me sexually, and I enjoy getting back there whenever I can, usually hitting the town twice a year.
I had high hopes that this latest trip would be just as satisfying, and that I’d enjoy at least a couple of hot experiences during my four-day stay.
I checked in that morning at my very stylish and beautifully appointed hotel, The Harrington, where I quickly unpacked and settled in.
I then had a quick bite to eat at a great burger place called The Easy Cheese, and then almost ran for the awaiting beach. The water was incredibly clear and wonderfully refreshing.
As I picked up my towel from the sand of the deserted beach, I noticed a figure emerging from the thick trees and vegetation that bordered the beach.
Byron Bay’s beaches are beautifully undeveloped, and their golden sand butts up against bushland rather than concrete promenades or wooden decking.
It was common for homeless people, free-thinkers, drug users, off-gridders, tourists living cheaply, and various other alternative types to camp in amongst this bushland in small tents and make-shift shelters.
I momentarily wondered if I was about to find myself in some kind of trouble. I could certainly look after myself, but I was still a little concerned.
As the lone figure got closer, however, I breathed a deep sigh of relief. I soon realised that it was not only a female, but a female wearing only a bikini top and a sarong.
As she got closer, I also realised that the woman was very, very attractive. I immediately started to think optimistically that this could even turn into something sexual.
The woman walked directly toward me and smiled warmly. She had long, tangled and slightly matted blonde hair held back from her face by a bandanna wrapped around her forehead.
Her eyes were a deep, glistening blue, and she had a thin, fine featured, and slightly weather-beaten face with wonderfully high cheekbones.
The kaçak iddaa mystery woman was completely free of make-up, was very natural looking, and looked to be aged somewhere in her mid-to-late twenties.
Despite wearing no lipstick, the woman’s lips were still full and red, while a thin, aquiline nose gave her an almost regal appearance.
The beautiful mystery woman wore a hooped, silver ring in her left nostril, which gave her an instantly artistic and unusual look.
Her eyebrows were light in colour but thick and ungroomed, and added to her air of casual, earthy, totally unaffected beauty.
The lone woman was strikingly attractive, and she had a body to match. She was lean, tall, deeply tanned, and looked incredibly fit and healthy.
Her crocheted bikini top displayed a lot of cleavage, and her breasts swayed gloriously back and forth, gleefully offered no support by the thin fabric that covered them.
Her left arm was fully covered in elaborate and colourful tattoos, which snaked from her toned shoulder right down to her wrist.
The mystery woman’s stomach was flat and toned, and partially covered by a colourful, stylised tattoo of the sun and ocean.
The woman’s hips were slightly curved, and her legs were long and coltish, while her billowing sarong disappointingly hid her crotch and upper thighs from view.
In real Byron Bay fashion, the woman’s wrists were covered in thick wooden bracelets, while a string of beads hung around her neck.
Though beautiful and sexy, the woman had a slightly unkempt, vaguely unwashed look about her. She was supremely alluring.
My guess was that she was some kind of hippy artist who probably lived in a low key camping set-up nestled in the bushland near the beach.
I quickly wiped my wet face with my towel, and roughly dried off my bare torso as the smiling woman casually approached me, seemingly without a care in the world.
She stopped a few metres away from me, gave me another warm, open smile, and then unashamedly looked me up and down.
“Damn,” the woman said, and pointed at my Speedos. “I was kind of hoping you were going to take those off. After all, there’s nobody around.”
As far as introductions went, it was one of the best I’d ever experienced. This gorgeous woman didn’t know it, but I loved getting naked for women in public.
This beautiful stranger had just given me a truly exciting opportunity. I shivered with pleasure and anticipation at the sexy situation she’d just unknowingly created.
“Well,” I said with a big smile and a casual shrug. “That’s very easily fixed.”
With a broad, friendly smile, I slowly undid the drawstring of my Speedo Aquashorts, and the woman let out a tiny gasp as she keenly watched.
This beautiful mystery woman had come on amusingly strong, but she obviously wasn’t expecting me to so happily drop my swimsuit in public.
I hooked my thumbs in the sides of my Aquashorts and then quickly slid them down my muscled thighs with another naughty smile.
I didn’t bother to tease out the situation or put on a show; I wanted to get nude as hastily as possible. I let my sodden, sopping Speedos slap down onto the sand and then casually stepped out of them.
My huge cock swung out from where it was tucked between my legs and dangled impressively between my muscled thighs.
I was completely and happily naked. The woman looked directly at my enormous, freakishly sized 23cm flaccid cock and let out a big, hearty laugh.
My cock is outrageously outsized, and most people wouldn’t believe me if I told them how big it is. Most women respond with shock or laughter when they see it.
The gorgeous hippy looked me up and down again, and then pointed right at my crotch with its man-scaped patch of sandy brown pubic hair.
“That is quite the phallus,” she smiled. “And quite the body too. You’re up from Sydney?”
“Yeah, I am,” I replied in surprise. “How did you know?”
“You’re waxed and perfectly tanned,” the woman smiled good-naturedly. “You clearly spend hours in the gym, and you have your pubic hair trimmed. You practically scream Sydney!”
“Yeah, I’m here for a few days,” I laughed. “I got here this morning. I’ve just been having my first swim.”
“Well, thanks for getting nude for me,” the woman smiled. “You’re an incredible sight. I’ve actually been watching you from the bushes up there…I’ve been getting quite aroused looking at you swim and strut around.”
“That’s fine,” I said in response. “I don’t mind being watched by a beautiful woman.”
“I’m glad,” the woman smiled. “I think we could bring our bodies together and really enjoy each other physically.”
“Um, yeah,” I muttered in surprise. “I definitely think we could do that.”
“I’ve got a shelter in the bushes,” the woman continued. “Would you like to join me? You don’t have any hang-ups about sharing your body solely for the pleasure it brings, do you?”
“No,” I replied, and laughed to myself internally. “I’m very happy to share my body.”
In kaçak bahis fact, I was happy to share my body with just about any female on the planet. Though not clinically diagnosed, I’m pretty sure that I’m a sex addict, and I couldn’t believe my luck.
I’d only been in Byron Bay for a few hours and I was about to have sex with a beautiful hippy in the bushes by the beach. It was almost too good to be true, and I hoped desperately this sexy situation didn’t go south.
The woman reached out and ran her hands over my marbled pectoral and abdominal muscles, and felt my bulging biceps.
She then reached down and gently fondled my uncircumcised cock, rolling it around her fingers and feeling its impressive weight. She let it go equally gently and smiled at me.
“Let’s go,” she said alluringly, and turned around, heading towards the bushes. “Come and join me.”
“What’s your name?” I asked, and picked up my towel, bag and Speedos from the sand. “I’m Matt.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Matt,” the woman smiled over her shoulder as she walked. “I’m Arlo Moon.”
“That’s a beautiful name,” I said, walking nude behind her, my cock slapping absurdly against my thighs in the warm sun. “It suits you.”
“My parents are imaginative people,” Arlo said softly. “They’ve always encouraged me to live the life I want to live.”
I watched Arlo’s butt move up and down underneath her thin sarong as she walked up the hot sand, and noticed the sun shining off the unshaven blonde hairs on her toned calves.
Arlo’s long, matted mane of hair swayed sexily back and forth invitingly, and the muscles in her back undulated mesmerisingly.
The appropriately named Arlo Moon was a wonderfully earthy, sexy woman. I couldn’t wait to feel her amazing body and fuck her.
Thankfully, I’d jerked off in the toilet on the plane from Sydney while fantasising about one of the beautiful flight attendants, so I was hopeful I wouldn’t blow my load too soon.
I am disappointingly prone to premature ejaculation, so I always try to rub one out in preparation for any possible sexual activity that might come up.
I don’t like to leave the house with one in the chamber, so to speak. I’ve made a fool of myself on way too many occasions, so I am an avid masturbator.
My most recent bout of premature ejaculation happened on national radio when I climaxed in a matter of seconds while having my penis measured as part of an interview I did about living with an outsized cock. [See Story: “Oz Beach Boy Shows Abbie Chatfield”]
I desperately hoped that I’d be able to show Arlo Moon a good time, and internally cursed myself for not whacking off a second time when I arrived at The Harrington earlier that day.
I hoped and prayed that I would last long enough to provide Arlo Moon with an acceptably pleasurable experience, and that I’d be able to get her off.
The lithe, striking woman pushed her way into the bushes, and I followed obediently behind excitedly. Being totally naked with a partially clothed woman in this lush, natural setting was extremely exciting and arousing.
I followed Arlo through the shaded canopy of trees until we came to her shelter. There was a large blue tarpaulin spread over a patch of clean sand, while another tarpaulin stretched across the tree branches above it, creating a hollow of protection from the elements.
Arlo’s shelter was sparse, tidy, clean, and well organised. As far as temporary bush camps went, it was pretty nice. There were milk crates filled with books and topped with large, unlit candles weighting down the tarpaulin.
A small chest of drawers obviously picked up off the street sat under one corner of the tarp while an also obviously street-scavenged arm chair was propped in another corner.
There was a large black sleeping bag and a big, spongy pillow carefully placed in the centre of the tarp, along with a few other bits and pieces.
“You’ve got a nice set-up here,” I remarked. “But what happens when it rains?”
“I’ve got friends in town squatting in different places, plus a few in vans,” Arlo replied. “We help each other out and make sure everyone’s safe.”
Tucked under the tarp was also a collection of fire sticks, hoops, juggling pins, tambourines and small containers of kerosene.
My guess was that Arlo supported her Spartan lifestyle by performing in the very busy park alongside Byron Bay’s popular
“Yep, I’m a walking cliché,” Arlo giggled. “A hippy chick living in the bush in Byron who does fire twirling and street performing. You’re gonna get the full Byron experience, Matt.”
“That sounds good to me,” I smiled.
“You can tell all your waxed, man-scaped friends about it when you get back to Sydney,” Arlo giggled.
“And you,” I laughed, “will probably keep your experience with this overly groomed Sydney wanker completely to yourself. This would not be good for your reputation, I’d imagine?”
“No, but even a girl like me can be aroused by a guy like you from time to time,” Arlo smiled. “You’re a very, illegal bahis very attractive man. You look strong and healthy.”
“Well, thank you very much,” I said. “I try to stay in shape.”
“I enjoy having all kinds of physical, sexual, and emotional experiences,” Arlo continued. “And I’ve never been with a man with a phallus as big as yours.”
This conversation was unfolding, of course, while I stood there completely naked clutching my belongings with my huge dick dangling almost to my knees.
As I often unfortunately do, I absent-mindedly fondled myself and Arlo smiled at the sight. I lightly touched my cock, and also moved my balls around with my hand.
“Do you want to make love on the tarp, or in the sand?” Arlo asked.
“Wow,” I muttered. “On the sand in the sun would be nice.”
Arlo grabbed a large blanket from a bag on the ground, and spread it out carefully over the clean, white patch of sand next to her camp.
The streaming Byron Bay sunlight created beautiful mottled shadows on the white sand as it flooded in through the overhanging trees.
With a broad smile, Arlo then reached behind her back with both hands and expertly but unassumingly undid the knot on her bikini top.
It slid forward off her shoulders, and the beautiful hippy then slipped it off completely. With a cheeky smile, Arlo threw it casually onto the nearby armchair.
Arlo’s breasts were near perfect. They were large but not enormously so, and they swung back and forth gently as she moved.
The gorgeous hippy’s tits were tanned and firm, with soft brown nipples and areolas. There was a silver barbell-style piercing through her right nipple.
I ogled her naked breasts unashamedly, and Arlo smiled warmly at me. She seemed completely comfortable with her nudity.
Arlo tightened the bandanna around her forehead to keep her hair in place, and in the process, showed off her wonderfully ungroomed armpits, which were filled with light blonde hair.
Arlo dropped her arms and then undid the knot of her sarong, which she let fall to the sand. Her bikini bottoms were small and revealing, and showed off her slightly curved hips.
Trails of pubic hair spilled out of the sides of Arlo’s bikini bottoms, which she proceeded to remove with a complete lack of hesitation.
Arlo peeled her pants down her lithe legs and then flicked them off with her right foot. She stood in front of me completely nude, an uninhibited vision of earthy, non-polished beauty.
Arlo’s bush was thick and untamed, but because she was blonde, it wasn’t too out of control. It looked absolutely fantastic, and was a real turn-on.
I walked toward Arlo and we embraced urgently, our warm bodies mashing together. I kissed her neck passionately, and I could smell and taste a mix of sea water, perspiration and simple soap on her body. There was no trace of perfume or deodorant.
I kissed Arlo on the mouth hungrily and ran my hands over her hips, and then felt the toned tightness of her butt, which was covered by a light smattering of hair.
She responded with equal excitement, rubbing her hands all over my muscled back and taut glutes. Arlo returned my kisses with hot but tempered excitement.
We continued to kiss while we moved toward the blanket, and eventually fell down onto the softness of the clean white sand.
I laid Arlo down in front of me, and kissed and licked her ample breasts, circling my tongue around her nipples and sucking on the barbell piercing, which prompted a moan of satisfying joy.
I felt my enormous cock begin to swell, its skin tightening and its considerable heft starting to move out and away from my tensed body.
I licked my way down Arlo’s taut stomach and eventually pulled up at the tangle of hair in her crotch. I ran my fingers through it and enjoyed its coarse texture, making the most out of this rare pleasure.
Though I’d seen a fair bit of bush lately [See Story: “Oz Beach Boy’s Epic Nude Run”], most women that I encountered were either waxed clean or at least tidily groomed, so Arlo’s hirsute nether regions were a real treat.
I slowly spread her slightly muscled legs as wide as I could. They moved apart with ease, an instant indicator of how supple and fit Arlo was.
I assumed that she did regular yoga and pilates, as well as a lot of exercise through her performing. At a guess, she was likely a vegan too. This fire twirling hippy chick was indeed a picture of health.
With her legs spread wide, Arlo’s entire vulva was completely exposed, her lips pink and fleshy, and surrounded by a thick, tangled halo of blonde hair.
I bent down and moved my head between Arlo’s strong and rippling thighs. I carefully parted her pubic hair with my fingers, and then spread her glistening labia.
I dropped my face into Arlo’s crotch, and slid my tongue into her, licking hungrily and with great excitement around her generous lips.
“Ooooh, you’re a generous lover,” Arlo moaned happily. “I like that…I really like that.”
I carefully tongued the hippy’s clit and traced around her thick, swollen labia, kissing and licking in turn. Arlo moaned quietly and thrust her crotch into my face. I could feel the obvious strength and power in her legs.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32