textfiles/sex/EROTICA/S/sonbeach.txt

Sun of a Beach.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	       Fiction (I swear it!),  by Nevyn.



	West Auckland is blessed with some of the best 
beaches in New Zealand.  Piha and Karakare look west from 
Auckland out to the Tasman sea.  Even on the hottest day,  
a fresh breeze drives the surf against the rocky cliffs 
that frame each of these beaches.  A short walk around the 
cliffs takes you to other unnamed secluded beaches where 
few people venture.  One of these beaches set the scene 
for an afternoon of very erotic play...


	Some InterNet correspondence with a friend of mine in 
Sydney,  Australia,  led onward to flirting.  I'm not 
ashamed of this;  I'll flirt with anyone.  Keith 
reciprocated,  and the intensity of the EMail stepped up a 
notch.  The letters began to contain references to what he 
would like to do with myself,  two randy giant dogs,  and 
three of the four basic food-groups.  Eventually I 
ventured that if he were ever to be passing through New 
Zealand,  he would have a place to stay.  His next letter 
to me confirmed he had booked a two week trip to New 
Zealand.
	Keith is 'zoo' virgin.  Although he has never had any 
experience with animals,  he was more than a little 
enthusiastic to explore this aspect of his sexuality.  We 
had discussed it at length.  InterNet gives a great 
opportunity to get to know a person well before you meet 
them in the flesh (as it were).  We had swapped 
photographs and letters containing our deepest feelings,  
dreams and desires.   I knew him as well as I know any of 
my friends,  yet we had never met.
	He arrived at Auckland International Airport at 
around 4:00pm on the Saturday.  His plane was delayed 
slightly,  and I swear I paced the length of the arrival 
hall 200 times in my nervousness and impatience.  Clearing 
of customs seemed to take forever;  if you've ever gone 
through customs in Auckland,  you'll appreciate that 
estimate probably wasn't too far wrong.
	When Keith finally walked through the portal defining 
the opening to the arrival hall,  we spotted each other at 
the same moment,  and both our faces broke into broad 
grins of recognition.   He waded though the crowd,  and we 
hugged (in a non-sexual,  brotherly kinda way,  so as not 
to offend the other patrons of the airport.  (I'm older 
now.  Next time I'll say to hell with them and french-kiss 
him passionately!)).  He looked even sexier in person!
	There was a little tension between us,  brought on by 
this being the first time we had actually met face to 
face.  Sure,  we had chatted on the phone,  and some of 
those conversations could have netted us hefty fines from 
Telecoms.  But there was still something a little awkward 
about actually being there in person with someone I had 
been so intimate with in other ways.
	In anticipation of this exact situation arising,  I 
had booked a nice restaurant with sweeping views of 
Auckland's night-time vista.   By the time we had dropped 
his luggage off at my house,  and we had readied for the 
evening out,  the conversation had thawed from superficial 
chat about his trip over,  to a more warm and friendly 
dialogue.
	Keith and I had decided before-hand on a contingency 
plan.  There was a good chance that although we were 
infatuated with each other electronically,  the Real Thing 
might leave us both cold.  So the plan was: if we got on 
well together,  Keith would stay with me at my house,  and 
if not,  he would tour New Zealand and have a wonderful 
holiday anyway.  There was no pressure that 'this had to 
work', so we could be honest about our feelings and 
impressions.  And if things went well between myself and 
Keith,  we would see how my other lovers, Hamlet and 
Xanth, related to him.  I'm happy to share my lovers as 
long as my lovers are happy to be shared.
	A lovely meal,  and a bottle of an excellent Fume' 
Blanc (Longridge.  1989.) later,  the conversation became 
a little more intimate.  The evening was perfect.  It is 
rare everything gels so completely:  the waiters were 
charming,  the food was perfect,  and even the wandering 
accordion player was entertaining but un-intrusive.  And 
of course the company was delightful.   The last vestiges 
of discomfort at meeting Keith in person melted away,  and 
we passed the evening as though we had been best friends 
for life,  while the glittering jewel that is Auckland 
scintillated before us....

	We left the restaurant arms locked around each others 
waist,  and somehow made it back to my house without ever 
seeming to stop hugging.  That night,  we made love almost 
frantically.

	It's difficult to describe the feeling of security 
and warmth of waking up next to a body you have spent such 
a wonderful and fulfilling evening with.  I snuggled up 
close to Keith,  and we lay in each others arms for 
awhile.

	Hang on,  hang on,  I hear you say.  Where were the 
dogs in all of this??  You don't know the meaning of the 
word "affronted" until you've seen the look a Great Dane 
who is used to sleeping on the bed can give,  when he's 
relegated to sleeping on the floor for a night.
	Hamlet and Xanth both decided that 7:30am is ample 
lie-in for humans,  and made party noises until I left the 
embrace of my newest lover to take them out and feed them.  
I love my dogs dearly,  but they can certainly show bad 
timing.  When I returned to the bedroom,  Keith had 
already risen and was in the shower.  I was a little 
disappointed;  sharing a shower with a friend is an 
excellent way to start the day.  Still,  in the two weeks 
Keith stayed,  I think we showered together almost every 
morning. 
	The following few days were a frenzied mix of wild 
sex with Keith,  and Keith watching as I had wild sex with 
the dogs.  At that stage,  Keith was content to watch;  we 
furthered his education extensively.  Evenings were spent 
in various states of sobriety,  shocking taxi drivers and 
living the hell out of Auckland.

	I think it was the Monday of the second week we 
decided to hit the West Coast beaches.  We packed the 
essentials into the van:  Dogs,  towels,  wine,  junk-
food,  condoms,  lube,  sunscreen,   and headed for Piha 
beach.
	Although the weather over Auckland was overcast in a 
threatening sort of way,  local knowledge told me the 
weather on the coast would be fine.  Fine?  That word 
doesn't come close to describing the weather that day.  
The sky was an unbroken canopy of blue at Piha.  (The 
cloud-bank over the city was hidden behind the range of 
hills surrounding the small township.)  A faint breeze 
blew in from the sea,  and it was just enough to dispel 
the mugginess to keep the air fresh.  
	The dogs were straining at the leashes as Keith and I 
crossed the dunes and made toward the firmer damp sand.  
We let the dogs off,  and they ran around and around 
playing tag with each other,  then chased all the seagulls 
off the beach.  There wasn't another person on the whole 
beach.  Being a Monday afternoon,  this wasn't a big 
surprise.  The threatening weather over the city probably 
helped as well.
	The tide was about one third in,  so we couldn't walk 
around the cliff via the beach - we would have to clamber 
over the rocks to follow a narrow and treacherous trail 
halfway up the cliff.  Hamlet bounded over the trail,  but 
Xanth,  my English Mastiff,  had to be helped up some of 
the steeper bits.  I imagine we painted a fairly comical 
picture,  with Xanth struggling up the cliff-face,  me 
underneath pushing,  and Keith above calling and 
encouraging her.
	After the crest of the trail,  well above the water-
line,  the downward trek was easier.  Another beach lay 
before us,  accessible only from this trail,  and also 
empty of people.
	Shade was provided by the lee of the opposite cliff,  
so I could set up camp there.  I looked up to see where 
Keith had gone,  and I saw him sprinting toward the surf.  
Hamlet and Xanth were in hot pursuit.  I glanced down to 
check the bottle of wine was in the shade and then looked 
back toward the sea.  Keith was laying face down in the 
surf,  spread-eagled,  and the dogs were standing looking 
at him.  He lay for several seconds with the surf just 
washing his face,  and I began to get a little concerned.  
Then he slowly picked himself up and limped back toward 
me.  I realised I had forgotten to warn him that Hamlet is 
an accomplished tackler.
	Keith had suffered quite extensive bruising to his 
pride,  but was otherwise mostly unhurt.  His expression 
of such total persecution as he sat on the blanket almost 
made me burst out laughing;  it could have put the 
affronted look of Hamlet to shame.  So we drank some wine,  
and soothed his ego in a warm balm of conversation,  and 
ate our snacks.
	We were sweating from the warmth of the day,  and 
decided a quick swim was called for.  We shed our clothes 
and wandered down to the tide in the nude.  Keith had a 
great body.  He was my height: 6'1",  and of similar build 
to me.  He didn't have as much body-hair as I do,  but he 
was uncircumcised,  as I was.  I prefer my men 
uncircumcised (I'm happy to make exceptions though!).  We 
splashed around,  and body surfed.  Xanth loves the water,  
and is more than half fish;  Hamlet is a big chicken,  and 
would barely go in over his knees.  No amount of calling 
and cajoling would get him to enter the water where he 
couldn't touch the bottom.  Xanth swam around us perfectly 
at ease.
	The lure of sun-tanning called us from the water.   
Keith and I headed back up the beach and lay on the 
blanket to dry.   After a couple of minutes,  I grabbed 
the tanning lotion and rubbed it into his back.  Rubbing 
his back with my hands progressed to rubbing his whole 
body with my whole body:  I pressed my chest lightly 
against his back,  and slipped forward and back over him.  
Keith began to purr.
	Earlier in the week,  Keith had introduced me to the 
exquisite feeling that his tongue could induce around my 
anus.  As he was clean from his dip in the sea,  I decided 
to return the favour.  From the way he was writhing in 
pleasure as my tongue worked around his anus,  I guessed I 
was doing OK.
	One of the useful things provided at the Hero 
festival (Auckland's Gay street-parade and dance-party) 
was small 'safe-sex' packs.  They contained a condom,  and 
a small sachet of 'Wet Stuff' lubricant.  I broke open one 
of these packs and rolled the condom onto my dick.  My 
fingers spread the lube around Keiths arsehole.  One of my 
fingers slipped inside him to loosen him up slightly.
	A quick glance around the beach confirmed that we 
were still alone.  The chance of discovery added an 
additional erotic element.  Feeling the warmth of the sun 
on my back,  and the gentle caress of the breeze against 
my balls as I eased my dick into Keith made the outdoor 
sex a wonderful experience.
	We made love slowly.  The tanning lotion on Keiths 
back gave a wonderful feeling of oiliness on my chest 
against his back.  Keith raised his hips slightly to allow 
me to stroke his dick while I screwed him.  I kept the 
rhythm of sliding my dick into him slow,  even when I felt 
myself building to orgasm.  And when I finally came,  I 
howled and growled with the intensity.
	I rolled off him and lay on the blanket.  Keith 
raised himself onto his knees and crawled over and kissed 
me.  I eagerly let his tongue explore my mouth while he 
gently took the condom from my dick.
	Hamlet had been roused from his dozing in the shade 
by my howling,  and came over to investigate.  He sniffed 
the lubricant around Keiths anus,  and Keith jumped 
slightly at Hamlets cold nose touching him.  I started to 
send Hamlet away,  but Keith stopped me by kissing me 
again.  Then he stiffened suddenly as Hamlet began to lick 
around his arse and balls.
	Keith slapped his thigh,  and with a word of 
encouragement Hamlet leapt up and grasped him around the 
waist.  As Keith was inexperienced,  I knew I'd have to 
lend a hand.  So I squirmed out from under Keith,  turned 
around,  and wriggled back so my face was beneath Keiths 
dick.  Reaching up,  I guided Hamlets thrusting until he 
connected with Keiths hole.  I could clearly see Hamlets 
dick slide into Keith,  and it was one of the most erotic 
sights I have ever seen.  The contrast of Hamlets black 
ballbag meeting Keiths lighter-coloured ballbag as he 
thrust was striking.  A drop of precum oozed out of Keiths 
dick and landed on my chin,  so I raised my head slightly 
and slipped his dick into my mouth.
	Keith was moaning long groans of pleasure.  I could 
imagine what he must have been feeling,  with Hamlet 
pumping his arse as hard as he could,  and my sucking on 
his dick.  I had to be careful to limit Hamlets thrusting 
so his knot wouldn't expand inside Keith,  as that would 
probably hurt Keith badly.  When the knot had fully 
expanded,  I relaxed a little and let Hamlet hump harder.  
Watching from underneath, that huge lump of flesh slapping 
against Keiths arsehole was arousing me again.
	Hamlet slowed his thrusting.  He stood with his dick 
as far in Keith as he could (a good six inches).  From the 
way his balls were flexing,  I could tell that he was 
cumming.  Keiths moaning became a long drawn out growl,  
and abruptly his dick flexed in my mouth.  A rush of warm 
liquid filled my mouth;  Keith was cumming and I was 
drinking him.  He shook with the force of his orgasm.  
More cum spurted into my mouth and I sucked it eagerly.
	When the waves of pleasure finally drained from him,  
he raised himself slightly so Hamlet slipped from him and 
stepped back.  Keith collapsed on the blanket beside me,  
completely fucked out.
	I was horny again from watching those two and sucking 
on Keith,  so I called Xanth over.  I should mention here 
that sex with the dogs is the only way I can get aroused 
again so soon after cumming.   
	Xanth and I are old lovers.  She quickly trotted up,  
wagging her tail.  She licked my face to catch the last 
vestiges of Keiths cum, then she turned and presented 
herself for me.  I stood behind her and bent over her back 
to hug her around the chest.  My hands ran down her belly 
and quickly over her nipples.  They found the soft 
entrance to her,  and one finger slipped inside.
	I entered her easily and naturally.  A dogs normal 
body temperature is a degree or so hotter than a human 
body,  and that coupled with the tightness of her gave an 
erotic sensation along my dick that is impossible to 
describe.  I paused with my dick inside her,  just 
savouring the familiar feeling of my lover.
	It's difficult to remain at the half-crouch that is 
required to enter her from behind,  so I couldn't stay 
locked into her forever as I would wish.  I pulled back 
slightly and pushed back into her.  As I did so,  she 
rocked her hips downward.  We moved together in harmony 
until I felt her muscles begin clenching on my dick.  She 
lifted her head and began smacking her lips noisily as she 
does when she's cumming.  Her pleasure was just the 
stimulation I needed to push me into my second orgasm.  I 
gripped her hips tightly and pushed into her as hard as I 
could,  then held myself there as I filled her with my 
semen.  Ahh sweet ecstasy.
	The pleasure slowly ebbed from me,  and I fell to the 
blanket.   Xanth collapsed beside me and snuggled into my 
armpit,  snorting.  I pulled close to Keith,  and the four 
of us lay in the sun.

	Keith stayed for the rest of that week,  then flew 
back to Sydney.  Yes,  we DID make love often,  and yes, 
the dogs WERE often involved.