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One of my first memories of an adult having an accident. I was at the beach with one of my first girlfriends..
My girlfriend at this time was really straight: I mean really, really straight. She looked nice in a one-piece though (blue it was, with a sort of white applique pattern which, apparently, made it a 'sun suit' she couldn't swim in! Later I found out she was scared of the sea, which didn't surprise me because she was scared of so many things - anyway....) and we were just in that first relationship phase: getting on well together, kissing, a little bit of intimate contact, no more than that. Well we went the picnic lunch route, I went for a short swim on my own and a pee while I was at it and we were well into the personal contact stuff, when she suddenly announced it was time we started back.
"Why?"
She wouldn't say. It was 'getting late'. I protested, and gently coaxed her back into the petting mode, but that reserve we all know was definitely there.
Eventually:
"We have to leave, I'm sorry." Through gritted teeth: "I need to go to the loo. I'm sorry." Finality in her tone.
"Now? Is it that bad?"
"It's a long way back." It was - the best part of a mile.
"Go in the sea!"
"That's disgusting! Anyway, I can't, I told you."
The thought did occur to me that she might need to poop, but its an awkward question to put, so I left that on one side. We had a short argument, the upshot of which was that she would be too embarrassed to wade in up to her thighs and let go in the surf, and discussion was making her need much worse.
"Can we go, please? I'm getting quite..." that was as far as she would take the sentence. The word wouldn't pass her lips.
"Five minutes?"
"Oh, no! Look, I'm getting desperate, all right?" She wriggled - the first time I had seen her do the womanly thing. "I really must go."
So I put the suggestion: "Go here!"
"I can't do that! There are people watching!" there were a few, to be honest - intrepid adventurers like ourselves with good walking legs; the odd passer-by with dog. But you can tell when something in a proposal appeals, and her eyes betrayed her. Although a nightmare image of herself openly squatting over a hole in the sand could not be countenanced she was definitely concerned she was not going to make it back to those distant 'loos'. I pressed my cause.
"Trust me." I prefaced the next manoeuvre with a long kiss during which I felt her wince.
"You can't wait, can you?"
"Of course I can!"
"Rub some more sunblock on me." Oh, the precocity of youth! I was balancing her needs against her inhibitions and hoping - a lot of hopes. All she need do, I patiently explained over numerous protestations, was to bestride me as I lay on my back with the bottle of suntan lotion (as we called it then) and rub some into my chest and stomach. I tried to make the whole idea as jokey as I could, even though it was excrutiatingly difficult to raise a smile from her at the time. I think she was practically crying with the pain, which was what - she admitted later - tipped the suggestion in my favour.
"But I'll...."
"It's that desperate, then?"
No direct answer: "You want me to...?"
And I didn't hold back with the enthusiasm: "Oh yes please!"
I do think she was very innocent - so many of us were, in those days. But, as I later found when those early inhibitions were removed, she was also ready to experiment. Anyway, though no doubt with thoughts like 'pervert' in her mind she was glad enough of a disguise and went for it. I lay on my back, trying not to stare down at that sweet little triangle of cloth that lay between me and a furry little snatch simply bursting for relief. She began rubbing in the sunblock. She gave a little moan.
"You're making this obvious!"
I admit it, I was. So obvious the top of my swimming trunks were about to permit a little head which also wanted to get a view of the action to peep out.
"Shift further up."
"No!"
"Then it's obvious!"
"But I'll do it on you!"
I reached down to cup her cheeks in my hands and draw her to me. By this time I didn't care what was obvious and what wasn't, especially when, in doing this, I got my peek at that little triangle and saw it was already wet.
there was a gentle flow beginning, like a natural spring - the birthplace of a river. It was so inexpressibly beautiful!
I can't do justice by description to that pause as she pretended to do my sunblock, to the wince of distaste, then the far-off look that came into her eyes.
"I'm sorry!"
"Stop apologising!"
"I can't help it."
"I know, darling. I know."
Heat and propensity: over my trunks and everything they nearly contained, up my lower belly, cascading between my parted thighs. Just so much! The torture was mine. I wanted nothing more than to reach down once again, slip our mutual shields of thin fabric aside and openly fuck her right there on the beach - but that, I know, even if she had gone for it, we couldn't disguise. I just had to lie there - for the first time very nearly coming without being touched. It was an awesome and a simultaneously deeply frustrating experience.
At the end of it, when she finally drained herself out and moved away I looked like I was the one who had wet myself, so I rolled over and instantly came with my stomach against the sand. There was no real evidence on her at all, though she had learned a lot more about me.
Then she kissed me and thanked me!
What was that for?
"You know what you called me. You called me 'darling'"
Yes, it was an educational afternoon. We stayed late. I stayed on my stomach for at least an hour.
Andy
My girlfriend at this time was really straight: I mean really, really straight. She looked nice in a one-piece though (blue it was, with a sort of white applique pattern which, apparently, made it a 'sun suit' she couldn't swim in! Later I found out she was scared of the sea, which didn't surprise me because she was scared of so many things - anyway....) and we were just in that first relationship phase: getting on well together, kissing, a little bit of intimate contact, no more than that. Well we went the picnic lunch route, I went for a short swim on my own and a pee while I was at it and we were well into the personal contact stuff, when she suddenly announced it was time we started back.
"Why?"
She wouldn't say. It was 'getting late'. I protested, and gently coaxed her back into the petting mode, but that reserve we all know was definitely there.
Eventually:
"We have to leave, I'm sorry." Through gritted teeth: "I need to go to the loo. I'm sorry." Finality in her tone.
"Now? Is it that bad?"
"It's a long way back." It was - the best part of a mile.
"Go in the sea!"
"That's disgusting! Anyway, I can't, I told you."
The thought did occur to me that she might need to poop, but its an awkward question to put, so I left that on one side. We had a short argument, the upshot of which was that she would be too embarrassed to wade in up to her thighs and let go in the surf, and discussion was making her need much worse.
"Can we go, please? I'm getting quite..." that was as far as she would take the sentence. The word wouldn't pass her lips.
"Five minutes?"
"Oh, no! Look, I'm getting desperate, all right?" She wriggled - the first time I had seen her do the womanly thing. "I really must go."
So I put the suggestion: "Go here!"
"I can't do that! There are people watching!" there were a few, to be honest - intrepid adventurers like ourselves with good walking legs; the odd passer-by with dog. But you can tell when something in a proposal appeals, and her eyes betrayed her. Although a nightmare image of herself openly squatting over a hole in the sand could not be countenanced she was definitely concerned she was not going to make it back to those distant 'loos'. I pressed my cause.
"Trust me." I prefaced the next manoeuvre with a long kiss during which I felt her wince.
"You can't wait, can you?"
"Of course I can!"
"Rub some more sunblock on me." Oh, the precocity of youth! I was balancing her needs against her inhibitions and hoping - a lot of hopes. All she need do, I patiently explained over numerous protestations, was to bestride me as I lay on my back with the bottle of suntan lotion (as we called it then) and rub some into my chest and stomach. I tried to make the whole idea as jokey as I could, even though it was excrutiatingly difficult to raise a smile from her at the time. I think she was practically crying with the pain, which was what - she admitted later - tipped the suggestion in my favour.
"But I'll...."
"It's that desperate, then?"
No direct answer: "You want me to...?"
And I didn't hold back with the enthusiasm: "Oh yes please!"
I do think she was very innocent - so many of us were, in those days. But, as I later found when those early inhibitions were removed, she was also ready to experiment. Anyway, though no doubt with thoughts like 'pervert' in her mind she was glad enough of a disguise and went for it. I lay on my back, trying not to stare down at that sweet little triangle of cloth that lay between me and a furry little snatch simply bursting for relief. She began rubbing in the sunblock. She gave a little moan.
"You're making this obvious!"
I admit it, I was. So obvious the top of my swimming trunks were about to permit a little head which also wanted to get a view of the action to peep out.
"Shift further up."
"No!"
"Then it's obvious!"
"But I'll do it on you!"
I reached down to cup her cheeks in my hands and draw her to me. By this time I didn't care what was obvious and what wasn't, especially when, in doing this, I got my peek at that little triangle and saw it was already wet.
there was a gentle flow beginning, like a natural spring - the birthplace of a river. It was so inexpressibly beautiful!
I can't do justice by description to that pause as she pretended to do my sunblock, to the wince of distaste, then the far-off look that came into her eyes.
"I'm sorry!"
"Stop apologising!"
"I can't help it."
"I know, darling. I know."
Heat and propensity: over my trunks and everything they nearly contained, up my lower belly, cascading between my parted thighs. Just so much! The torture was mine. I wanted nothing more than to reach down once again, slip our mutual shields of thin fabric aside and openly fuck her right there on the beach - but that, I know, even if she had gone for it, we couldn't disguise. I just had to lie there - for the first time very nearly coming without being touched. It was an awesome and a simultaneously deeply frustrating experience.
At the end of it, when she finally drained herself out and moved away I looked like I was the one who had wet myself, so I rolled over and instantly came with my stomach against the sand. There was no real evidence on her at all, though she had learned a lot more about me.
Then she kissed me and thanked me!
What was that for?
"You know what you called me. You called me 'darling'"
Yes, it was an educational afternoon. We stayed late. I stayed on my stomach for at least an hour.
Andy
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