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IMPRESSIONS IN THE SAND
He blinked lazily awake on this spectacular stretch of sand, a cloud crossing the path of the summer sun.
But as his focus sharpened, this cloud took a human shape. Above him now stood an unknown man in silhouette, tall and lean, and as he looked first left, then right, there was no one else as far as he could see.
This was a dream, surely. The beach had been crowded with people not so long ago, when the stresses of his life had pulled out to sea with each retreating wave and his eyelids had grown wonderfully heavy.
Now he seemed alone, with this stranger shading the warm sun, robbing his eyes of what he needed to take in his form. He was standing perfectly still, in no hurry to end this eclipse.
He pulled himself up on his towel, supporting his frame on his elbows, and as his eyes adjusted to the light, he followed the stranger's eyes down.
He was naked.
His chest, smooth and flat, rose and fell quickly with his shortening breath; his nipples were puckered and taut, and his cock was lying fat across his thigh, thickening, draining all the blood from his body for its maximum benefit.
Down his body their eyes roamed, to the brown hair matted glistening with a hint of perspiration at his groin. His arousal was unmistakable.
The stranger made only one gesture: he placed his forefinger to his lips, bidding his silence, before he moved closer, sinking to his knees. He looked down this man's strong physique, from his kind face, past his muscular chest and trim waist. And in his left hand he saw a generous erection, gleaming at the tip, sliding wet and slick in his fist.
His head was swimming with the sensations. A dream? Yet he could feel his heat as the perspiration beaded on his forehead -- arousal and danger and the heat of July surging to his face.
He felt the wetness of the stranger's mouth, his tongue tracing over his teeth, slipping between his lips. His kissed his neck, and now he was suckling on his left nipple, nipping at it. He thought he was melting.
So overwhelmed was he that he was eager to yield to his visitor's every whim. When the stranger's hands move to his hips, he instantly rolled onto his stomach, pulling back into a kneeling position, allowing his thighs to be spread apart. His own balls hung heavily, his cock now fully erect, pointing ahead.
With a firm stroke, the stranger pushed an inch into his ass, which widened upon request. Then he felt himself filled with thick, hot meat. With each increasingly needy, deep stroke, the ridge of the stranger's cockhead grazed his prostate, and the sweet torture drove him quickly to the edge. He had been absently pulling at his own cock, and his orgasm soon crashed over him with brutal force, his seed spilling full and creamy in long white ropes onto his towel.
The stranger's convulsions shook him, too, the ache in this man's loins coursing up his length and emptying into his ass with a beautiful, throbbing rush.
His taker's strength abandoned him and his full weight collapsed down, both men flattened onto the beach. He was crushed beneath the stranger, their breathing labored. He heard the man's whispers, words he did not understand, and he felt his mouth at the lobe of his ear. His eyes flickered shut as his heart slowed.
He had lost track of time when he blinked awake, on his stomach. A cool chill sent shivers down his spine as he rolled onto his side.
Children and families and couples were running and laughing and wading into the sea. His Speedo was as he had pulled it on at home.
A thin cloud was shrouding the sun as he gathered his belongings, this exquisite, troubling dream still fresh. Then, as the sand tumbled from his damp towel, he looked to the beach and saw a body impression that was deeper than what he could have made alone.
His thoughts raced, his mind swelling, his plump cockhead not too shy to peek from beneath the waistband of his suit. He found no answers to his very many questions as he slowly left the beach, the crashing surf echoing in his mind.
END