Dunes of Maspalomas - Sex Stories

Dunes of Maspalomas

... getting off. Some of them got a signal and a condom was ripped open for him to mount her doggy. At the same time she sucked her man’s or the blonde stud’s cock. I wondered if watching or being watched is more important, while standing aside and automatically twiddling with my dong. Although I always have a good erection, the right lust did not emerge. I strolled along. I passed by an elderly couple, lying in the sun. She was voluptuous, not really a beauty. I had seen them days before and had been touched by her quiet and patient way to massage his rod. I remembered his foreskin, which could not be pulled down the glans, and her silver nail polish. I decided to stay a little while and spread my towel. I took the daypack as a pillow. Legs widely spread apart to give them an unhindered look on my testicles; I began to fondle my balls tenderly. Every now and then I batted my eyelids to look over to hem. Slowly I hardened. That took a while. Two or three walked by, stopped or knelt down to wank and spray into the sand. I was about to cum when she got up and walked over to me. She knelt in front of me. Her grip was surprisingly firm but not unpleasant. I straightened up and grabbed a tit. I also wanted to rub her pussy, but she denied what I respected. So I was content with the smooth skin of her love handles. I listened to my heavy breathing and enjoyed the whole ...

... situation. From the corner of my eyes I recognized some watchers, but that didn’t bother me. I reached for my balls and she understood immediately. With her free hand she massaged my scrotum while the other was working on the shaft. That all together had the desired effect. Gasping I bursted out over her hands. Incredible orgasm! I spluttered „thank you“ and I still worked a little on her breast and haunch. A Swiss guy besides asked, after expressing his enthusiasm about what he had seen, where the two came from. I did not know and I did not mind. From Denmark they said, but there was no longer conversation arising. The Swiss was probably a nation fetishist. I would have stayed longer, but I did not dare to ask if I could to something for them. It was a felicitous completion anyway. It’s fun in the dunes. No entry fee, one passes through a fence and over a big dune and one is inside. Informal, naked, a voyeur and exhibitionist. The sustained delusion of the convinced, that there is no link between nudism and sex, is pleasurably disproved here. This is like paradise: sun is almost shining, one stand or lies aside, and if one is lucky, wishes will come true. The surrealism is normal. Sometimes I wonder why this is not always normal. Anybody wants the same thing, right? To encounter someone you know? He has his cock in his hand as well, so the conversation should be friendly.