Hot Day at the Beach

I saw this amazing muscle guy standing in the water on the nude beach, his
swinging cock hanging just above the waves, and my knees turned to
jelly. Instantly I was in lust with this sex-sensational creature. I saw
him again later at the beachside pool, wearing a tight Speedo and packing a
big bulge, where he met and lounged around with a couple he knew. He
apparently had no companion attached to him — a hopeful sign, I thought. I
waited, it seemed for hours, for him to split with his friends and I
trailed him to the dressing room. By great good fortune my locker was
within view of his, so I could follow his movements. He didn’t shower and
simply pulled on a tight T and jeans (nothing under!!!) and slipped into
moccasins. I made certain that I was dressed, too, in time to follow him
out of the bathhouse and into the parking lot. Other people were around, so
he could not have been aware that I was expressly tailing him.

He walked back and back in the lot and eventually he approached a red
pickup truck — exactly the right vehicle for such a macho guy. Now I had
to screw up my courage and do something to get his attention before he
could get in and drive off. What should I do? I had to think fast and
settled on the obvious:

“Hey,” I called out. He looked in my direction, blankly. “Hey, my friend,”
I called out again, “Wouldja help me with some directions?” Then I had to
think what to ask for that would take enough time for me to get right
beside him.

He looked a little impatient with my halting him, but he was at least gonna
cooperate. “Yeah?’”

As I got close to him I knew I had to get in this guy’s pants if I possibly
could, but I intuited that he could be easily antagonized, even become
hostile, so I had to be careful. I managed to trump up a question about
directions and while he was answering I tried to figure out what to say to
change the subject, to the subject I had in mind.

“Thanks a lot,” I replied when he finished, and he turned to get in his
truck. “But I would also like to ask you something else.” He looked back,
with a wary expression, and I began to fear I was going to get into a
violent situation. “What I would like to ask you is, , , well, er . . . oh,
shit, how should I say it? Which is, man, I would really, really like to
suck your dick. I think you have a great bod and you are so sexy I am going
wild to get my face in your crotch.”

He sneered, “Sorry, dude, but I’m straight.” And he turned and opened the
door to his truck.

“I assume you are,” I replied, “but from my point of view straight is even
better. Besides, you won’t be the queer one; it’s just me, who’d be doing
the sucking. But I have to tell you, man, I really, really want to suck
your cock and I promise it will be the best blow -job you’ve ever had. Just
let me get into your truck with you and you open your fly and I will make
you the most relaxed man in town.”

“No fucking way, dude, I ain’t no queer.”

“Yeah, we both know you’re not but I need your cock, man, I need you to cum
in my pussy mouth, I need to swallow your manly spunk.”

He paused, hesitating, shuffling his feet a bit and looking down at the
ground. A good sign, I thought, at least he is considering it. “Please,
please, please, man, please let me be your pussy faggot. You can talk dirty
to me, as dirty as you like — call me bad names and shit. Just let me
worship your muscles by sucking your cock.” I had to beg a bit more, but
eventually he got into his truck and opened the passenger door.

“You’ll have to suck me here and hope nobody sees us.” He opened his fly
and pulled down his jeans a bit. That gorgeous cock lay on his leg. Then he
thought of a better way, slipping into the passenger seat and having me
turn at the same time and kneel on the floor. It was a tight fit and he
reached down and pulled the lever to move the seat back. Then he lowered
the back of the seat and slid down out of view from the outside while my
face was right over his crotch.

“OK, pussy, man, get to work. Suck that dick and suck it good. Show me just
how good a cocksucker you are. Show me how much you like being a queer.”

Man, I was in heaven, worshiping this dude and looking him straight in the
eye as I sucked. He went on with the dirty talk, telling me about girls he
had fucked, virgins he had popped, even a couple of girls he had knocked
up. His muscles alone were enough to set me on fire, but the dirty talk
just made it hotter. I wanted to make this last as long as I could, but I
realized there was actually some danger of getting caught, so I worked as
efficiently as I knew how. The taste of pre cum let me know it was
proceeding as planned. He grunted and even groaned a bit under his breath,
so I could tell he was enjoying it. Then his cock stiffened and I knew I
was about to get my reward. That was when he pressed down on the back of my
head and pushed his cock into the top of my throat, humping upward as fast
as he could. Years of experience came to my rescue and I was able to handle
getting my face fucked without gagging. Then he exploded and I got a
mouthful of sweet-salty man cream. I moaned in appreciation and sucked as
hard as I could to give him the benefit of a few more spasms of orgasm and
empty his balls in me.

“Oh, man that was fucking great!” I exclaimed as I pulled off.

“Fuckin’-A” he responded, “queers do have their usefulness. But it’s over
now, bud, so get the fuck outta my truck and take your pussyness somewheres
else.”

It’s perverse of me I know, but I really dig abuse of that kind from a
straight guy. As I scrambled away from his truck, back to my little
Corolla, I was incandescent with joy. I had actually bagged this hot dude
– and in a public place, too!