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Reverie... Jan 5th, 2004 3:11:31 am EST
Somewhere in that 20-odd year hiatus between marriages, I'm sure it was in the 'sportscar' days, friends in Hoboken were renting a cottage in Montauk L.I. for a week, and a second cottage had suddenly become available...I wouldn't have done it, but a single sister was accompanying them, and she was hot...I thought maybe...
They used to say that half the fun was in getting there, and that car had a great stereo, I had a stack of jazz tapes and it was a long drive, a beautiful summer day. Somewhere along Long Island I saw a sign for a beach, Smith Beach I think it was and I was in no hurry so I decided to spend a little time on the beach - what the hell, it was summer and I was headed for a cottage, might as well get into it, no? Smith beach was beautiful, long and flat and it turned out to be sort of a nude beach. I say sort of because there were a lot of naked people there, but there were also a lot of people in the usual beach attire; it was a strange mix, the naked and the clothed, somehow much more erotic than all one way or the other. I wandered around, taking in the sights, trying to make a decision to take off my bathing suit - I am not hampered by modesty, but my anxiety surrounded the inevitable erection that would result once I did it. Not that it would have been the only 'stiffie' on the beach, but I have always had this anxiety about size, shape, etc...do I 'measure up'...all that crap. I wanted to but ultimately didn't for the simple reason that I didn't want to start my week by the beach with a sunburnt pecker, so I walked the beach for a few hours filling my head with little 'vignettes'. My thoughts started projecting onto the possibilities for the week ahead so I knew it was time to head on to Montauk, so I went back to the car. The car had been baking in the sun so I opened up the sunroof and the windows to let it cool off a bit, and I was lightly sprinkled with sand so I was brushing it off with a towel and decided that I would be more comfortable for the rest of my drive if I peeled off the wet bathing suit and put on fresh underwear and cutoffs. I glanced around and the parking lot was deserted, but no sooner than I shucked the bathing suit than I could feel someone staring at me; she was a 'safe' distance away - about 2 rows of cars back, and was standing behind her open car trunk. I was thinking of this guy I saw on the beach, naked with an erection, unselfconsciously rubbing suntan lotion on while talking to two women in Tshirts and white panties, and suddenly my need was immediate. The thought that I was being watched was strangely erotic and exciting and within seconds I had a throbbing boner. I massaged it with baby oil and it seemed like only minutes until I reached orgasm; it made a sizzling sound when it hit the car parked next to me. As I pulled on my underwear, I turned and looked straight at my 'audience' - she was staring at me with such intensity that it seemed almost as if she wasn't there, she was so deep into her own fantasy. I finished dressing and was heading out of the parking lot, in fact I was almost at the gate when some sixth sense made me turn back and drive past my parking space. She was there, on her knees, licking the side of the car that was parked next to me...
The rest of my week was typical - the sister was hot, we drank, we screwed, we promised to stay in touch, but nothing even came close to the intensity of that hand job in the parking lot...
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Mood: contemplative
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