Beach Bumming

We’d biked the six and a half miles to the beach, stripped out of our bike shorts and bike shoes into our running gear from our small bike-packs, and had run two of our planned five miles along Jacksonville Beach.  The punishing early morning run was our new normal since our best friend and four-legged roommate Sasha had been laid to rest.  The prior early morning routine involved letting him out in the yard, throwing the ball, getting his breakfast, and a post-meal walk; it was too painful to be around the house without him.

Running north toward us were two well-shaped studs similarly glistening in the rising sun to the east.  One hairy and the other smooth but both very defined with lean muscle under their tans.  A “morning” was passed between us as we passed them; and then we each turned for another look and laughed when we caught each other.  The view of their wide shoulders, narrow waists, bubble butts, and strong quads was worth the minor embarrassment.  We and they both laughed and gave a wave as we turned and continued.

We turned back north about three-quarters of a mile farther; I’d be less than sincere if I said I wasn’t looking forward to seeing the two studs again in the event they had been starting their run when we’d encountered them.  It was some while later when we were passing the dead-end of 5th Avenue South before we saw them again; apparently they’d run well north of our starting point at Beach before turning south again.

As they neared us the hairy one pointed toward the rear of a commercial building where there was an area for people to sit outside apparently to take breaks.  I looked at Kent and asked, “Shall we?” panting from the four-plus miles we’d run.  He just grinned and as we neared the indicated building so did the other guys.  We ran up the six wide steps together which gave us the opportunity to inhale their sweat; fresh but strong from their exertions as I knew was ours.

A very deep voice from the smooth one directed to Kent:  “Trade our tops?” he asked as breathless as we were.

“You’re talking to him,” I butted-in and told him.  Then I looked at the hairy jock and said, “Guess that makes it you and me?”

If he was disappointed to not be going to fuck the muscularly superior younger more handsome one of us he gave no such indication.  Instead he reached out and touched my racing stripe scar down the length of my chest and held his hand on my sweaty fur as my chest heaved.  “Looks you take strain okay?” he questioned in a thick middle-eastern accent.

Yippee! An Arab! I thought; I’ve always enjoyed Arab studs.   And he was every bit a stud.  Bubble butt of epic proportions, shoulders wider than my husband’s (which is saying something) eight-pack under dark thick fur, green eyes, short curly hair, and a very promising bulge.

Kent shoved the smooth one over a steel rail on the side of the deck we were trespassing on and yanked his shorts down.  The exposed bubble butt was as smooth as the rest of this muscle-stud and Kent had his own dick out and rubbing that smooth crack.  “Fuck man don’t fuckin’ tease me!  I can take it; just fuck me!”

“You can take it?” the Arab asked and pulled his shorts down to reveal a perilously thick but not as long dick that was nearly hard.  “The buddy he wins size today but you will feel!” he growled and waved his hard-on at me.  He reached at me with his other strong hand and pushed down on my shoulder.  “Suck first!” he commanded.

I put up no argument and sank to my knees on the sandy concrete.  I grabbed that dick out of his grip but instead of swallowing it I leaned forward and inhaled deeply his sweaty pubes at the base.  “Mmmmmm,” I moaned as his rich maleness invaded my system.  Then I moved some and did the same to his heavy hairy balls which had me swooning and moaning more.

I was licking as sucking his big balls when I heard the other stud cry out.  I couldn’t see around hairy Arab’s center but knew the sound of a man taking my husband’s monster dick for the first time.  “Fuckin’ Christ man!”

Kent’s deep commanding voice.  “Shut the fuck up!  You said you can take it and that’s what you’re going to do!”

Another yell from the fuckee and then another; but he wasn’t asking Kent to stop.  Instead he was yelling to his partner.   “He fucks harder than you Ari!  He’s reaming me out to where you’ll rattle around in my bussy!”

I realized that my Arab was likely an Israeli with that name; he was cut like most Arabs and all Jewish men so who knew.  What I did know was his partner’s claim riled him.  “We see who fucks hardest and deepest,” he rumbled low like thunder as he roughly pulled me up and shoved me over the same rail.  He spread my cheeks, took a long hock, and spit a glob right onto my hole.  Next was his wide dick-head pressing hard.

I decided I’d make him work for it … in my way.  I shoved myself back onto him and reached back to pull him tight into me.  If the surf hadn’t been loud I suspect he’d have heard the squish and squelch of Kent’s loads from last night and pre-dawn today.  “You gonna fuck me?   Best get at it man!” I taunted him and kept the tremendous stabbing pain I was feeling out of my voice.

“I fuck you to have to use medical station!” he growled and began pounding me.  I think he meant the lifeguard headquarters medical area.  To be honest the pounding helped push away the pain of the abrupt intrusion; his thickness was most pleasing even if he couldn’t plumb to the depths my husband does.

“Tell him!” I heard Kent yell.

“He’s so fuckin’ big Ari.”  He was grunting and groaning in time with Kent’s thrusts.

“Guess it’s your buddy’s lucky day Ari.  As tight as he is I’m guessing he’s experiencing a lot more cock than you throw him!”

Shit!  I knew Kent can get uber-alpha; but I really didn’t want to get the shit beat out of us out here where we’d all get arrested if we were found out.

“Fuck Ari it’s so good!” the smooth one cried.

Ari growled and spit as he did; he was slamming into me hard enough that his shorter but fat dick was knocking my prostate.  No effing way I was giving him the satisfaction of making me cum and taking away their weird role-play.  “Any time you want to really give it to me I’m ready Ari,” I told him and got a louder snarl and more spit raining down my back.  “Come on you so-called top; either FUCK me or step aside and let me find a real top!”

“You tell him hon!” Kent encouraged me and grunted as he really gave it to his bitch.  It was almost as if Kent’s grunts were intentionally trying to be louder than his smooth bottom’s moans and cries as he took Kent’s humongous dick.

My top roared and snarled, “You hole tight but you sound more loose-holed bottom bitch!”  He was clutching my waist so tight and slamming into my ass so hard with his short but thick dick that it felt like I’d have bruises on my ass and at my sides.  He was panting hard and sweat was splashing my back; I wondered if he’d tap-out before his balls gave-up his load.

“Oooooooohhhhhhhhh I’mmmmmm cummmmmmmmmmmming!  Fuck you’re fucking it out of … FUCCCCCCCCCCK!” the smooth bottom yelled against the surf and threatened to get us all noticed.

My Israeli top growled some curse I didn’t understand and pounded harder.  Fortunately my well-conditioned ass-chute had adjusted and the only pain was from his stubby dick slamming me sideways inside every few stokes.  I glanced over to enjoy the torrent of cum issued by Kent’s screaming bitch as he howled to the heavens.

The sight of both my sweaty ripped husband and that toned smooth bottom he was fucking both glistening in the sideways rays from the recently-risen sun along with the bottom’s thick white seed catching those rays stirred my balls.  Then Kent gave my inner fuse a charge.  “Okay bitch you’ve had yours now work for mine!” he commanded.

“Sir yes sir!” the bottom barked in a truly bone-charging military tone.  After that he grunted in time with Kent’s grunts of thrust.

“That’s it milk it out of me.”

“It’s so fuckin’ big; I’m doing the best I can.”

“If you want it you’ll do better!”

Then followed a long louder grunt.  I knew that feeling; your hole stretched beyond anything you’d ever felt before but still digging deep to clench that mammoth man-pipe and claim your reward.

“Here it comes!” Kent yelled.  I knew my husband; he’d purposely held back and made that bottom really work for it.  “Gonna fill you to over-flowing!  NNNNNNNGGGHGHHHGGGG!”

My top was almost howling as he listened to his partner be reamed and filled by a superior dick.  And I felt him harden from lead or steel to titanium inside me as he approached his release.  I wasn’t helping him much; just staying tight around him but not milking him.  And I’d let my thoughts hover in unpleasant territory to keep that fuse Kent had lit in me from flaring.

“You take my bull milk!” my Israeli top grunted out and slammed deep into me and let loose.  I almost lost it and came but I had other plans.  The sweating hairy panting stranger grunted through four shots I couldn’t feel inside me and then abruptly pulled back and out with a loud groan.

I turned around and caught his shoulder and shoved him downward; he was surprised but went to his knees.  “Fuck yeah hon paint him in your spunk!” Kent encouraged me as I pulled his neck to where my dick was about eight inches from him.

I began stroking; my bigger dick was pointed right at his face.  “OPEN!” I commanded.  His eyes flew open like saucers.  “OH-PENNNN!” I commanded louder.  And he did.

“Fuck yeah the other member of our audience now intently watching us yelled; a quick glance showed a ton of my husband’s jizz running down his inner thighs.  That sight made the explosion.

With my fingers clenched in my top’s thick black hair I held the back of his neck and blasted a hard shot right on target; his mouth and face took the first splatter.  And the second.  And he held steady with his mouth gulping quickly and opening again for my third.  Then my fourth didn’t project as hard and splashed his chest in a wide splat; the contrast of my thick white seed on his thick pelt made it look like Elmer’s glue had been splattered.  For the last few I shoved myself into his mouth and he sucked my dick hungrily.

“That’s you top; your Alpha,” I heard Kent say to his smooth American bottom.  I turned as I dribbled the last of me against the Israeli top’s tongue in his sucking mouth and saw Kent had his arm around the bottom’s neck and he was leaned in close; almost conspiratorially and grinning wickedly.  “Sucking my husband’s cock like the bitch he really is while you stand here with your fuck-hole gaping and my DNA running out.”

I’d had my fill; or more accurately my draining.  I released Ari’s hair and stepped back.  He reached and held my ass and sucked my dick more before finally releasing me.  He wiped his mouth with his hairy forearm and looked up at us.

Kent moved to me and pulled me tight against him.  Then Ari looked as if it dawned on him he should regain himself and his partner.  He got up and took a step but Kent put out his big hand and stopped him by pressing it to Ari’s shoulder.  The Israeli muscle-top looked surprised until Kent put his hand up and smiled.  Ari suddenly smiled.  They high-fives with a loud clap and ended with their big hands clasped.  “Good job man!” Kent said with his own grin.

“Good fucking yeah!” Ari said and released Kent’s hand.  He pulled his bottom to him and said, “We go.  I have call soon.”

The bottom took Kent’s huge heavy-hanging dripping dick and gave it a squeeze.  “I won’t forget you,” he said addressing Kent’s dick not him.  To the both of us as they started toward the steps to the beach he said, “Thanks for a really great … “ and stalled-out.

“Fuck,” Kent and I said together.

“Yeah that,” the bottom said with a grin and then hurried to catch-up with Ari who’d already started south on the sand.

Kent and I pulled our shorts and jock-straps up and then embraced and kissed; we didn’t care about the sweat.  Even so I was lost in the kiss my background thought broke through.  I suddenly pulled away and made a bee-line for the steps.  “Race you back to our bikes,” I trailed-off as I sprinted away.

From far enough behind me that I thought I had a chance of winning Kent called, “No fair Sherbourne!  You didn’t exhaust yourself back there just standing around letting that big ape do all the work!”

I could tell he was gaining a little on me with several blocks of beach to go to where our bikes were chained.  I ran harder and mentally thanked the John’s Hopkins cardiology team who’d made it possible four years before.  I called over my shoulder, “I win and your ass is mine when we get home;then I’ll be the one doing the work to you what he did to me!”

My grammar was abominable; but the message was clear and my writer husband got it.  From then until we arrived back to our bikes I heard the distance to his steps behind me lengthening instead of him gaining on me.  Oh yeah; I’m a lucky man to have a husband like him.