The next day Kate was arriving back in town for her summer Uni break; staying with her mum.
Regular readers will remember what Kate is like. I think she is best pictured as being a near ringer for the swimsuit model Kate Upton at her young slimmest best.
She’s got that same angelic face with a smile that makes men melt.
The same naturally blonde hair (well at least in the case of our Kate it’s natural; I suspect from the colour of her eyebrows, the other one might not be)
That same flawlessly clear skin.
The same tall hour-glass figure, except our Kate displays a slimmer, more athletic waist and the sort of less padded butt that suggests she’s going to find it easier to keep her figure as she grows older and has babies.
In part that’s because Kate is an iron woman competitor through her surf lifesaving club. She might not be well known at a national level, but like Greg in his iron man competition, is no slouch at club and regional levels. In fact Kate is not unlike what seems to be the typical profile of the present generation of famous and up and coming Australian surf iron women in that athletic blonde Australian beach girl sort of way.
[Authors note. The historic surf lifesaving ironman/ woman competitions should not be mistaken for the more recently introduced Ironman triathlons. The former consists of running, swimming, board paddling and surf ski legs; those things that a surf lifesaver needs to do]
Our Kate must be the only woman in the world capable of making Ms Upton feel frumpy by comparison.
And of course the guys will want to know our Kate has the same bikini top busting breasts as her model namesake, her D cups rarely covered by anything more than the skimpiest of string tie bikini tops which in the surf nearly always prove inadequate to doing their job of retaining them; not that our Kate seems to give a damn about that. Indeed that might be Kate’s one distinguishing feature from the more famous Australian iron women; who have nice figures but generally seem to have less prominent breasts.
When I’ve walked down the street with Kate I’ve regularly seen guys walk into lamp posts or bust their knees tripping over seats and other street furniture as they’re distracted by her. She’s just that sort of girl; especially given the skimpy, figure displaying clothes she is nearly always dressed in.
But the real killer is her big smile; her “come fuck me” smile as I teasingly call it. The trouble is that most guys flashed the smile have an initial reaction of just dissolving into jelly; often missing the opportunity it offers. Which is the reason I think Kate so often in the past ended up with what I called the Neanderthals; bodice ripper style guys with plenty of confidence and front, but not much to offer in the brains or personality department. Which was an incredible waste given Kate’s intelligence.
In part that choice of partner had been Kate’s. Yes she liked guys with a good body; but really her problem – as she knew – was the inability to commit that her family’s screwed up background had left her with. She had sort of deliberately picked guys who presented no danger of wanting or needing a longer term relationship.
I had seen her start to revise that approach as she’d watched Greg and my relationship develop over last summer. By her own admission, she had started to yearn for something similar and was trying to overcome her own limitations to find it.
And now we had been warned a new ‘proper’ boyfriend was in tow. We’d seen a bit of him on Facebook; but apart from an impression that he looked more like a slightly heavier built version of Greg than her usual Neanderthal, it was difficult to know what to expect. After all, the relationship was still fairly new; indeed new enough I thought it was a risk having him committed to staying with Kate for the three months.
Still, for the first time ever, Kate had used the word ‘love’ in relation to one of her boyfriends; at least in the positive “I do love him” sense. That was a good start, but I was interested to find out where on the love scale he really sat. Kate had a long history to overcome and these things don’t happen overnight.
Kate had got in late the previous night and, allowing her time to sleep in, we’d arranged that she’d meet us at the spot Greg and I left our gear for our morning run and swim more or less at our usual finishing time (which given what we normally get up to in the sand dunes afterwards was no small sacrifice on our part).
As we came running back along the beach I could see Kate in a typically Kate bikini sitting with a guy on their towels just outside the entrance to the gully in the sand dunes where our gear was. At first I could see Kate was in animated conversation with her partner, but eventually she looked our way and saw us coming.
Never one to do things by half measures, Kate stood up and sprinted towards us, arms outreached, squealing her delight at seeing tuzla escort us after all this time; no doubt leaving her boyfriend wondering what was happening. About 50 metres from her towels Kate intercepted us; bundling the three of us together with her arms as she nearly bowled us over backward with the speed of her intercept. Then as she held us together tightly she alternated kissing us on each of our cheeks as she rattled off a dozen questions about how we’d been and our trip up.
I thought the greeting was nearly over when she finally separated from us, standing facing us arms spread apart with a hand lightly gripping each of Greg and my outside shoulder. But suddenly her flow of conversation faltered as she looked me in the eyes and captured me in a full body embrace. Apart from Greg I don’t think I’ve had many boyfriends – if any – who’ve embraced me so intimately. She even had a hand on my bum drawing my crutch into hers; the fronts of each of our bikinis squashed together, our nipples pushing into each other’s breasts.
Of course she’s done this to me before when we were both naked; once at Zoe’s naked beach party and once after our threesome, but this was more prolonged, more contemplative. Maybe even more sexual; certainly more sensual. After a minute, she gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek and separated, turning to Greg.
At first she just put her hand on his shoulders; sort of contemplating him. Then without any warning obvious to me, she jumped up on him; wrapping her legs around his waist and holding herself tightly to him as Greg supported all her weight; able to do little more than put both hands around her butt to hold her up.
It was probably a miracle she hadn’t bowled him over; although I suspect either outcome was acceptable to Kate.
Then she rocked herself gently back and forwards on Greg, making clear her delight at seeing him again.
The trouble was, Greg’s equal delight at seeing her and being embraced like this by her was starting to manifest itself in his speedos. Given her bosom was wrapped around his face and it was more than possible an exposed nipple was playing against his lips, that was hardly surprising.
It got to the point where if either her rocking or his delight increased any further she was going to impale herself on his erection. And I don’t mean that in any painful sort of way if you get my drift.
Finally she pulled her head off his shoulder and planted a giant prolonged kiss square on his lips. As she started to dismount, Greg tried to lean forward to let her drop cleanly onto the sand. But the laws of physics would only allow so much tilt. As she dropped, her crutch still collected Greg’s three quarter erection and bent it down between her thighs. She then gave him one last full body contact hug, his now fully grown erection – fortunately still sheathed in his swimmers – visible out the back of her legs as she did so.
By this time her boyfriend had walked the distance between us and joined the group. Goodness only knows what he thought of what he’d just seen; even more so since the pressure of Greg’s shaft had pushed Kate’s bikini bottoms into a deep camel toe through the full length of her slot. I well understood Kate’s natural uninhibited exuberance and her closeness with Greg, so wasn’t fazed by the display even if it did go way further than normal. But how much had Kate explained to this guy before she, to all external appearances, just about raped Greg on a public beach?
As Kate finally broke away from Greg she pulled her boyfriend into the group by his arm for introductions.
As Kate introduced me to Luke – since that was his name – I shook his hand and leant in and kissed him on the cheek. Greg in the meantime had a few seconds to recover his composure and get his manhood back under control before also being introduced. In a way I hadn’t often seen Greg do before, he leant in and gave Luke a light man-hug. I suspect like me, Greg had figured that something more tactile than a mere shake of the hand was required to counterbalance Kate’s intensely physical greeting of us.
And so, standing in the middle of the beach, for about the next ten minutes we talked in the way you do when you haven’t seen someone for a while and they have a new person in tow; getting some preliminary information about Luke, finding out how their long drive up was, how Kate’s mom was and all that sort of stuff.
However both Greg and I were intensely aware that we’d just finished a long beach run on a warm and very muggy morning. Sweat was literally running off us. Not only was it uncomfortable, it sort of generated that lack of confidence that the concern about being offensive to those near you can. Frankly I was surprised that Kate had been willing to hug us in the way she had; if only because of the yuckie feel of our sweaty bodies against hers. We were probably only saved by the fact Kate had obviously just been for a swim so that the cool wetness of her body and swimmers tuzla escort bayan hid the more sticky dampness of our own.
Normally at the end of our morning swim and run training we have another quick dip in the ocean to freshen up a bit, but Kate had intercepted us before we’d managed to achieve that.
Finally as I felt yet another giant bead of sweat run down the centre of my back and through my bum crack to join the damp uncomfortable mess that was already the main feature of the crutch of my bikini I asked Kate whether she’d mind if Greg and I had our post-run swim to freshen up.
Indicating she’d wait for us back by the towels, Kate waived us on our way. And so for five or ten minutes Greg and sort of forgot about Kate and Luke as we frolicked through the ocean waves.
As we came back out of the water and started walking up to where Kate and Luke had been, it was immediately apparent that they’d disappeared. At first we thought they must just have been in the gully where Greg and I left our gear.
Like much of the coast around here, at the back of the beach a sand dune rises steeply for about four metres. For the most part, the face of this dune is just a single wall carved flat by storm waves washing against the dunes during major storm events. Closer to town the houses behind the dune might be protected by rock walls; but here with just bush behind, nature was allowed to do what it will.
Our gully was simply a spot where rain, or whatever else, had caused a break in the solid wall of sand. Walking into the gully, the floor rose about a metre to lead you to a point where the gully split in a Y shape. Greg and I had always left our gear deep in the right hand fork of the gully. Indeed I’m embarrassed to say that since just about every time we came up here after our training routine we were on our way to have sex in the gully and our passions were running hot, I’d never really explored the left hand gully.
Being a creature of habit, it was also the spot where for many years before I’d come on the scene, Greg and Kate had left their gear while they exercised together. So Greg sort of expected to find Kate there. But when our towels came into view she wasn’t there either.
That left us a dilemma. There had been no sign of her walking up the beach, so the question was do we go off in search of them, wait here thinking they might come back or just go about our day assuming we’ll catch up with them shortly in one of our usual haunts. Behind all that was the fact this was normally the time Greg and I took the chance to have – not to put too fine a point on it – our daily root. Sometimes there might be second or third ones for the day, but this was reliably private and after watching each other’s barely clad bodies exercising for the previous hour, we were nearly always in the mood for it.
Absent any compelling alternative, the daily root won. I’m not sure how we actually made that decision. One minute we’re discussing what to do, the next we’re wrapped in each other’s arms, the next Greg’s pulled all the tie strings on my bikini rendering me naked and the next I’m riding him cowgirl style to my orgasm. And a nice if somewhat noisy one it was too.
Then I rolled him over on top to let him pound away till he finds his finish. He had only really just got started. I’d settled my body into a position where his thrusting rolled me around a little – knees bent, my feet sometimes over his thighs – knowing that encouraged him to go all the more confidently and it got a nice little jiggle of my breasts going; which turned him on all the harder. One minute I’m enjoying the power of Greg’s body in mine, the next I look up and there sitting cross legged and stark naked at the top of the dune between the forks of the gully and looking down on us as calmly as a spectator at a cricket match is Kate. Next to her, lying flat and with his head just visible over the roll of the dune, is Luke; appearing somewhat sheepish with his voyeurish endeavour.
They’re looking from our head end. With Greg elevated off my body, at the very least they have a pretty good view of my breasts and a vista of Greg’s bum as he pistons away at my crutch in his own noisy way.
A year ago I might have reacted by throwing Greg off, screaming indigently and curling my body into a modest ball. But that was a year ago. Greg and I have changed. I can’t say he’s corrupted me since we were birds of a feather when we met. Rather our experiences have remoulded us.
After all we’ve had a threesome with Kate, so she’s seen it all before; even if not from the helicopter view she has now. And then of course there was Zoe’s party; where public sex just seemed to be par for the course.
So while I’m not saying I was entirely comfortable with being in this position, I could deal with it.
Now my first thought was not to draw Greg’s attention to the audience least it put him off. On the one hand I kept a curious eye contact with Kate escort tuzla while at the same time trying not to stare in that direction in case Greg cottoned on that there’s something or someone there. Fortunately he seemed to have his attention fixed on my breasts and the gap between our bodies, so he wasn’t looking up to where Kate was or even spending that much time looking at my eyes.
I was even trying to keep up the pleasurable grunting which is my natural unforced reaction to Greg pounding me like this; although I would have to say with diminishing conviction.
I squeezed him tighter within my body and put more physical effort into my body’s response to him, moving with him or bearing down against him; all trying to bring him to climax just a little faster. At least that’s half my reason. Because even at this most awkward of moments another thought has entered my head. I want Greg to have a good one; a really, really good one. Yes in part it’s to put on a good display; let them know our sex is as mind blowing as it is. In a way I always want Greg to have a good one. And if that was my only reason it would be understandable.
But the truth is a second less noble thought has entered my head. I can’t say it’s a scientific fact, but my observation is that when Greg has a good one he doesn’t go as flaccid. In fact I’ve often teased what is still an impressive erection with my hand after he’s withdrawn and flopped over on his back and asked if it’s wanting more.
If he has a really, really good one then it just takes more; letting Greg just move on to a second orgasmic cycle without withdrawing or even waiting very much; double shotting me. But the latter is a rare event usually in special circumstances. Even if it would be a mighty impressive display, it’s not what I’m trying to achieve here.
No. As silly as it sounds, in a juvenile competitive sort of way I just want them to cop an eyeful when he flopped over on his back afterwards. A sort of one upmanship.
Finally I could feel Greg moving to his climax. His grunting was getting louder and faster; his strokes pushing harder against me. With his usual final three great strokes and bellowing groan, he filled me with his cum, then rested down exhausted on my body as the after tremors of his orgasm took control inducing in him shuddering waves of pleasure.
I could feel he was staying pleasingly firm and erect.
Deciding it was time for Greg to discover the audience, I kissed him and started to tip him off me; knowing his normal reaction was to fall over onto his back; at which time Kate would come into view.
Even then, it took a minute for him to notice we were being watched. Finally he sees them.
“Hello. What are you doing there?”
“I should ask you the same thing; although after what I’ve just watched I suppose the answer would be pretty obvious. We thought you were going for your training swim so had at least half an hour for some hanky panky in the other gully. Then you two came back early and started waking up the dead with your noisy sex. I was worried it might put Luke off his game. [At this stage Kate put a loving hand on Luke’s head; stroking it a couple of times] But fortunately it just seemed to excite him more. When we were finished Luke said we should just wait for you guys to finish too; but you know me.”
“How long were you watching?”
“From a little before Karen’s climax. An impressive one it was too. By the way Greg, you’ve got a really nice butt when it’s working like that.”
I knew Kate had added that bit about my climax to make me blush. And it worked. Kate stood up, offered a hand to Luke to help him up from his lying position and they half walked half slid down the steep side of the gully to join us. I noticed Luke had been a bit resistant to getting up and suspected he might have preferred to lie down for a bit longer. He had a nearly full on boner on display now coated in sand. He might have been a reluctant watcher, but that obviously hadn’t stopped him enjoying it.
I couldn’t help myself. I had to have a good enough stare at it to compare sizes. I was appalled at myself that I was actually chuffed that it tended towards the disappointing end of the size range.
Before I’d met Greg I’d never seen a male erection, in fact I don’t think I’d got a good look at a male appendage and Greg’s is the only one I’ve ever had – or are ever likely to have – inside me. So initially I was not in a position to know whether his was big, small or in the middle. And I’ll never know what different sizes feel like. But when I got to see the line-up of morning glory erections on the guys passed out all around Zoe’s lounge room on the morning after her naked beach party, I certainly came to understand that Greg was on the upper end of the range. And for some strange reason, I was quite proud of that fact and have been ever since.
By the time Kate and Luke reached the bottom, Greg and I had managed to stand up, sort of leaving the four of us standing awkwardly around stark naked; me with the feeling of Greg’s cum beading down the inside of my thigh.
Greg broke the momentary silence by finishing the earlier conversation.