Date: Tue, 19 Oct 2004 20:29:37 -0400 From: Jon Royale <JRoyale@msn.com> Subject: Family Beach Outing This work of erotic fiction depicts graphic sexual encounters and is meant for a mature audience. Author maintains all rights to this story, which may not be duplicated or used anywhere without his express permission. While the premise of the story is based on an actual sighting this summer at my local nudist beach, the characters are fictitious and any resemblance to a real living person is purely coincidental. copyright 2004 JRoyale Every weekend during the summer I take the fam out of the city down to the Jersey shore---weather permitting, naturally. Just for a day. The wife and me get up early on Saturday morning, awaken my son (anybody with a teen-ager knows it takes 'em at least an hour to get their young ass together) and head down to the only nude beach in the vicinity. Yeah, you read it right, me and the wife are naturalists. Hey, the human body is a fucking work of art, know what I'm saying? Way I figure it I was born naked so, if the opportunity exists, why not enjoy myself in an environment where I can forgo the clothes? Unlike a lot of the dudes walking around there, I've got a damned fine body for a man in his late thirties---and the wife ain't that bad, either. Bitch has got the shape of a woman ten years younger, so I don't complain about all the gym/aerobics/yoga bills she throws on the ole credit card. It's damned worth every penny when I see other dudes on nudie beach give her a long, appraising look. Makes me feel real proud knowin' she's my little woman---and she ain't goin' nowheres else! I keep her real happy and she, in turn, reciprocates. Been takin' my son, Jay (short for Jayson---hate that fuckin' name---acquiesced to the wife on that one) there ever since he was old enough to walk. Figure if the kid grows up around nudity he's not goin' to think anything bad about it. These kids got enough to worry about these days; maybe it'll give him one less hang up, at least. Jay is sixteen now. Good kid; don't give us much trouble other than the normal crap with teenagers. No honor roll student (neither was I, so I can't bitch about it much) but he does okay. He's on the Varsity Basketball team at school and, I'm damn proud to say, has single-handedly led the team to many a victory. I go to every fuckin' game and cheer the team on and am one proud father when Jay sets up, and shoots, the winning hoop. He's got some friends, school jocks like him, that seem like pretty okay kids. Every time I read the newspaper or watch the evening news, I feel pretty grateful to have a kid like Jay who looks like he keeps his nose clean. Good lookin' sonofabitch, too. Takes most of his looks from his mother's side of the family: Wavy, dark hair fallin' over his brows and halfway coverin' his eyes 'til he throws it back with a toss of his head, baby blue eyes and freckles on his high-boned, tanned cheeks. From me he gets the athletic physique, though he's still a kid so he don't yet have the hardness of his old man. And he can thank me eternally for inheriting my cock. How can a father not notice his son's development through puberty? Every summer I noticed the damned thing growing, proud as hell that my boy resembled my side of the family below the waist line. So, anyways, we're on the road some time after seven and make the park close to nine in the morning. If you don't get there before ten you're takin' a chance that you won't get on this particular beach, though there are other clothing-required areas on the island. That's how busy it gets; how popular the place is. Long fuckin' walk down to the beach front, but once you clear the dunes you see a plethora of colorful umbrellas and wind guards and know you have arrived. Hard as hell to find a spot along the water, but we're New Yorkers and have learned to tough our way in. All the years we been goin' there, we got to meet other people and have made more than a few beach friends. As he got older Jay was fidgety about hanging out with the folks, so we trusted him off on his own and, being a friendly/sporty kid, he always manages to find someone else his age. They've got a volley ball net set up and, usually when I look over, there's Jay playin' the jock and makin' new buddies. This beach attracts all types. You got your families (like me), you got couples, you got strippers (female and dudes) workin' on their money machine, you got the curious voyeurs (too inhibited to take off their own clothes, but they sure are watchin' through their concealing shades)---and you got the gays. Don't personally have anything against the fags---way I figure it, live and let live. They ain't hurtin' me, so's I'm not gonna give them any bullshit. Besides, the wife works with this gay dude Timothy who has become the only male friend I fuckin' trust her with. He came down to the beach with us a couple of times, but disappeared all damned day and came back only at the time we had agreed upon to leave (usually sundown, when the place closes up). That's when I discovered that to the far right of the beach (an eternally long walk---more than I want to handle) is where the majority of the gay population congregates. Timothy must have met himself some other dudes more to his lifestyle than the wife and myself. Don't blame him at all; hell, he's an okay guy and I wouldn't have even known he was queer unless the wife told me. These days you just don't know about somebody. Now, I gotta get honest here and tell you that I've thought about it. Every man, I don't care who the hell he is, has at least thought about it. I never did nothin' with no dude; hell, I'm a rough-and-tumble blue-collar worker type of guy who likes to drink my beer, watch the games and talk about chick's tits. Guess it came to me when I found about Timothy and wondered (to myself, of course---would never share this with the bride) if I could ever actually do it with another dude. Now, I'm sexually adventurous---at least in my mind. In all the years we been married I ain't never fooled around on Maria (guess its about time I told you my wife's name). Why would I want to? She was a hot number when I first saw her twenty years ago and she's every bit of that now. Don't like to suck my big cock (and I ain't braggin' here, fellas---you go down to the beach and see all the small fries walkin' around, look at me and then decide) and won't take it up the ass, but she can fuck like a million dollar hooker. So, anyway, I don't know why but one night I was sittin' outside by myself havin' a beer on a nice autumn night and the thought just kind of popped into my head. What would I do if Timothy ever hit on me? Not that he ever has---or would---but shit just comes on you sometimes and sets you thinking. Try as I might, I just couldn't see myself taking cock in my mouth, let alone up my ass. No fuckin' way! An' try as I might, the idea of banging a hairy ass hole (much as I liked the tightness of ass from some of the easier broads I'd had in my youth) didn't awaken my ole johnson. Finally decided that maybe---probably---I could live with Timothy suckin' my cock. Mor'n likely I'd have to close my eyes and pretend it was Pammy Anderson or J'Lo or some fetching sex goddess or the other---but that's what I compromised on. In fact, I'm almost embarrassed to admit, I got a raging boner thinking about it and ended up jerkin' myself off a hefty load right there poolside. Don't worry; the wife and boy were asleep (at least, I hoped they were). An' just so you know, I wasn't thinking about Timothy while I was floggin' the hog. That Pammy can sure suck a dick (in fantasy, at least) and JL takes it up that big ass like none other. But, okay, truth be told---don't know why but every now 'n again Timothy's face flashed into my masturbatory realm. Not that I ever want him to do me, but I'm pretty sure he must've thought about it, too. Not tryin' to sound like an egomaniac here (yeah, we blue-collar types know more than two syllable words) but I'm pretty confident in my appearance and physique. Much to my wife's annoyance, I get my share of looks from the ladies. (Don't know why she gets pissed off so much, I'm proud as hell when I notice another dude checkin' her out.) So I'm sure the gay dudes give me a once-over, though I'm kind of ignorant about noticing that kind of shit from another guy. I don't give a fuck; that's what eyes are for. They can salivate all they fuckin' want but, when it comes down to it, I'm true to my baby's sweet and loving pussy. The weather took a turn for the better this late September; they call it "Indian Summer." Temps flared up into the mid-eighties and clear, sun-shiny days were forecast for the entire week end. Deciding this to be the last hurrah before winter embraced us with its icy arms, we headed down to our favorite au-natural beach. Almost didn't get a parking spot; the place was crowded as hell. Guess it attracted more bodies because they don't charge the customary ten dollar fee after Labor Day. Equally lucky for us we spotted another couple we knew from the beach, Miles and Jessie, who'd staked out a large plot of sand land for themselves and were all too willing to share with us. Prime real estate right on the edge of the water, although it foretold relocation come high tide. Miles and Jessie were older than us, mid-forties. She was a bit on the plump side, though not bad for a woman of her age. Miles, on the other hand, was in pretty great shape for an older guy. Jessie and Maria had hit it off right away; took me and Miles a little longer. He was strictly white collar but, as it turned out, we had quite a few mutual interests. Most importantly, in sports; Yankee and Giant fans all the fuckin' way! That's all two guys really need to form a close bond. They had a son in his mid-twenties, now married and with a family of his own living in a midwest state. Early on, in his teens, he'd come to the beach with his parents but he and Jay never seemed to hit it off. Guess it was the age difference. We'd been settled down for more'n an hour, catching up with our beach friends, when Jay got that restless, bored look about him and went off to cruise the beach for a day buddy. Like I said, we never interfered. How can you expect a sixteen-year-old sports jock to hang out with mommy and daddy all fuckin' day? Off he went with my reminder to be back before sundown and his mother's warning of caution against all things bad. The bride and me settled into a nice, relaxing day on the beach, tanning our bods alongside the other couple and sharing the contents of the other's cooler. Mine was loaded with beers (and some soda for Jay) while Miles and Jessie had a decent bottle of wine. The women sipped the wine; we men cracked open the beers. Combined between us, we had sandwiches, grapes, cheese and crackers and some snacks to share as the day lazily dragged along. Must have fallen asleep at some point late in the day after depositing my body under the umbrella, cos I woke up with a start. The ladies were chatting away while the radio softly announced the half past five hour and Miles appeared to be no where in sight. Probably hitting the john way up by the parking lot to let go of some of that beer or, like me, wading in the surf and pissing in the water like most everyone else. Speakin' of which, I had to take one anyway so I got myself up and trotted to the water which had cooled considerably over the past few weeks, but successfully refreshed me while I emptied my bladder. The sun was easing down towards the horizon and, at this point of the season, I knew we had a good hour---maybe more---left before it was time to depart. Looking around, I noticed the beach had thinned considerably since my snooze. Good thing we'd pulled back before I nodded off, because our previous area was now under water. After being called sleepy head by the bride, I learned that Miles had gone off on a solo walk down the beach, something he usually did. With nothing else to do, I decided to see if I could catch up with him. Not that I was rushing or anything, but I figured a walk might do me good after having fallen into an earlier slumber. It was a nice sunset that even a hard-nose like me could appreciate. The gulls were all pecking about at the surf and a nice, refreshing breeze was lightly blowing off the ocean. So engrossed was I in the wonder of it all that I just kept on walking, never crossing path with Miles but not really caring. Didn't realize I'd wandered into gay beach until I was smack dab dead center. This side of the beach was inhabited solely by guys; I was hard pressed to find a set of tits anywhere in the crowd. Only other place I'd ever seen such a male oriented crowd was on my occasional visits to the strip clubs---and that's an entirely different ball of wax. These dudes were everywhere, naked as a jay bird, sunnin' themselves solo, in duos or in party groups. I'd thought there was lots of color to my side of the beach---the straight side---but here they had umbrellas and lots of concealing wind guards in bright rainbow shades. Some of the fuckers even looked like they'd set up camp, for crissake. They'd gotten themselves a plot of land and set it up like a fortress: wind guard around the periphery of their area, which contained (of all things) a tent or two with gay flags flying from the peak. The reality of why in hell one needed the privacy of a freakin' tent on a beach got my mind to wonderin' and coming to only one conclusion. They were of all ages; from trim-bodied teens to sagging grandpas. As I continued my jaunt down the beach front, more leisurely now, I became aware of more than a few appraising looks. Not to sound like some sort of egomaniac or somethin' but, like I said before, I'm a fairly decent looking hard body, macho type with an abundant length of sausage swingin', which became all the more apparent as I chartered these shark-infested waters. Can't really say why I didn't just turn around and head back; guess I was just curious as hell. One foot kept stepping in front of the other, like I had no control over 'em. I had the most uncanny rush of adrenaline and felt as if I was havin' one of those out-of-body experiences you sometimes read about. Towards the far end of the beach, the area began to narrow considerably until you were on some sort of peninsula. There weren't many sun worshippers camped out here, although there was still a smattering. This section wasn't as well-maintained as the main body of beach area and was unprotected by the life guard's eye. Hell if I could imagine making the trek with my gear from the beach entrance all the fuckin' way over to this point! But it looked like some of these guys did it; guess they were the types who wanted away from all the crowds. Seemed more like this was the place to take a nature stroll, which there were quite a few folks doing. This narrower area stretched on far as my eye could see, possibly a mile to a mile and a half before it intersected with the regular clothing required beaches. Actually it was a nice little stroll; no kiddies splashin' around in the surf, a few nudist fishermen tossing in their lines and a noticeable quiet from the hubbub further back. Feelin' relaxed as hell, I lazily sauntered along, stopping every now and then to bend over and examine a particularly interesting sea shell. Was even considerin' talking the wife into cruising this area on our next visit when I happened to look over towards my right and got my first shock of the afternoon. At highest tide, the unforgiving waters had eroded away a portion of beach, leaving a waist-high rise and forming a kind of ledge. From there the white sand stretched back into rugged dunes covered with sea grass. All along I had noticed naked men sitting at the top, or in the hollow, of the rise gazing out at the rolling tide---and the passers-by. But what caused me to pause was the unmistakable sight of an older, late-fifties portly man unabashedly flogging his blazing hard-on as he watched me pass! I had never seen such blatant exhibitionism! With my mouth suddenly gone desert dry, I quickly looked away and then, to make certain I'd seen what I thought I'd seen, I turned back. Sure enough, there he was jacking away at his rod and, with a grin on his face, motioning me over. Hot as it was, I felt like somebody'd thrown a bucket of ice water over me and, quickening my pace, I advanced further down the beach front. Not more'n maybe a hundred feet I came upon another shockaroony: right atop the ledge there were two dudes laying on separate towels about thirty feet from each other, positioned in what up close would be the good 'ole sixty-nine, jerkin' off while the one watched the other. Not a fuckin' word was bein' said between the two dudes, one an overweight forty-something-year-old and the other lookin' buff and bad, and not more than twenty one. They were communicating visually and sexually and, I gotta tell ya, it was a mind blower! Nearly bumped the fuck in to some fag walking up the beach in the opposite direction. He gave me a twinkle eyed, full-toothed grin 'cos he knew damned well what had my attention. Gotta admit I broke out in a little bit of a sweat, and it sure wasn't only due to the rays of the sun. Understand that I'm no kind of prude when it comes to sex; actually I'm a pretty adventurous kind of guy. Before I married up with the bride I was pretty much the stud on campus. Wasn't a strip joint I hadn't visited, not to mention some of them sex clubs me and my buddy used to frequent. If the wife only knew about some of the places I'd buried my cock before I met her! But that was a long time ago; way before Jay was born. Not sayin' I've been a freakin' saint all during my marriage. Every now and then me and the guys on the job pop into a "gentlemen's club" (that's what they call 'em now) and once in a great while I get treated to a nice blow job in the back room by one of the dancing hotties. But this gay beach stuff was a horse of a totally different color! It was completely decadent. Being this late in the day, there wasn't a whole hell of a lot of them lounging. I could just imagine what it must be like at high noon! Matter of fact, in the past half hour I'd been strolling I realized that even those walking the surf had thinned out considerably. Every once in a blue moon the park ranger would drive through in his SUV to keep an authoritative eye on things which, I was certain, forced those few cock whackers to quickly roll over and conceal their protrusion. Lookin' at some of the dudes passing me by on the way back to the general beach area, I was beginning to wonder if they were all queers after all. I was sure I saw a wedding ring or two among the group. After all, I was here, wasn't I? Was this area of beach an open invitation for everyone and anyone to get their jollies off if they desired? I'd been away from my wife, kid and beach friends for some time but hadn't given a moment's consideration to turning back. I had every intention to keep on until I'd reached the far end of the nudist's beach; deciding that, if some of these dudes were jerking off this near the main area, things must get progressively raunchy way the hell down there. The air had gotten a little cooler as the sun slowly inched its way down toward the horizon and the sky began to take on its purple and pink night hues. This is when the beach is at its most beautiful; I'm sure the wife was laying back in her sand chair enjoying nature's show every bit as much as I was. Like me, she enjoyed hanging out until the last ray of sunlight had faded from the night sky. As I continued on with the ocean's water washing over my bare feet I took note of two guys approaching from directly ahead. Probably late twenties and in good physical shape, the one looked like he had a deflating hard-on. In fact, every now and then he absently reached down to squeeze his piece. They seemed to be in a real good fuckin' mood, laughin' and snickerin' about something and kept looking back over their shoulder. When they were abreast of me, I distinctly heard one of them mention something about a "cock hungry little whore". The one of 'em took a look down at my bad boy---and then they'd passed me by. My curiosity about their source of amusement was soon to be answered. Gazing further ahead, I noticed a gang of about five, six or seven guys right at the point where the ledge seemed to be leveling out. My heart was beating in my chest with the anticipation of whatever lewdness I might be about to encounter. For all I knew, they could be hanging out and discussing the baseball game---but there was some inner voice telling me otherwise. Closer and closer I came, my pace much slower now. A dude approaching from further down noticed the group, suddenly veered off his path and crossed over to join the others. Of course, it wasn't difficult to see that they were all naked as the damned day they were born---which wasn't much of a surprise. I was close enough now that I could see they were all surrounding some bitch, who appeared to be up on her knees in the sand, facing the dune. Taking baby steps now and trying not to appear too obvious (though I don't know as how it would have looked otherwise) I observed that there were two younger teens (possibly between sixteen and eighteen) perched at the edge of the ledge in front of the beach slut while five others of varied ages, including the stud who'd just joined in, were at either side of the whore jerking their stiff cocks. Directly behind the babe was an middle-aged, salt and pepper haired man, who appeared to have a surprisingly athletic build, thrusting himself back and forth against the hidden talent. Halting in my tracks, I went through the motions of picking up a shell shell and pretended to be inspecting it---but what I was really doing was taking a closer look at the pack of he-wolves fucking around with the wanton whore. One of the side guys shuddered and a few moments later stepped back from the group, shaking his dripping cock. He stayed to watch the action for a bit longer and then moved away, only to be replaced by a mean-looking muscular black youth wearing nothing but a do-rag on his head. With my adrenaline fairly racing, I gingerly stepped away from the rolling surf and made my way across the sand closer to the scene. I just had to have a close-up view of this unexpected exhibitionism! Coming up about twelve feet directly behind the older guy, I could plainly see that he was fucking the bitch from behind. The two young ones on the dune were alternately getting their cocks sucked by the beach slut, whose hands were busily jerking off all the cocks of the guys along side her. Ever so slowly, with heart in throat, I shuffled past them but my eyes were still glued to the public sex scenario. Imagine my surprise when the older fucker's profile came into view and I realized it was none other than my beach friend, Miles! So this is what the old fuck was up to when he went on his so-called "nature" walks!! While his wife was hanging out with me and my bride way over on the other side of the beach, Miles was getting his rocks off in the pussy of some sand honey!!! So engrossed was he in his frenetic fucking that he didn't even notice me there watching him with wide-eyed wonder. He had both big hands on the sweetie's trim waist, yanking her back against him every time he thrust his crotch forward. I wanted to cheer him on; the guy seemed to have the stamina of a dude half his age! One of the guys jerkin' alongside the bitch and pretty much blockin' my view let out a low grunt and must have popped his nut, because a few moments later he turned away from the group and saw me standing there. Probably late forties, I figured, with a balding head and pot belly, his semi-hard showing the glisten of a cum glob from his piss slit. Stopping directly abreast of me he glanced back at the orgy and muttered, "May as well jump in 'afore somebody else does. That boy's one thirsty cocksucker." And for the first time, realization struck me that it was no female getting gang-banged on this desolate area of beach---it was a young man! In those few seconds before another passer-by (this time an old codger with white hair) stepped up to fill the vacated spot, I could see the young muscularity of his tight, trim body, especially the definition of his arms and legs. As Miles pounded into the young buck's ass hole, I glimpsed a nicely thick, painfully erect piece of meat bobbing up against the queer's defined abdomen. Fuckin' Miles! Screwing a young guy on gay beach! Couldn't wait to tell the wife what peculiarity I'd discovered about our pseudo friend. His concentration on that tight piece of ass was so intense that he still hadn't noticed me there gawking. In fact, as other guys came and went, I don't think the fucker ever missed a beat! It was as if he was oblivious to everyone other than the fuck hole he was savagely drilling. Personally, I don't know how the young stud could continue to take such a constant, vicious pounding up his rectum. Only way I could figure was that the fruitcake got himself fucked a lot and was pretty much used to it. One of the young ones perched on the dune started panting heavily. Tossing his head back on his shoulders, his chest rose and fell heavily as orgasm over took him. From the angle where I was standing I couldn't plainly see, but I was fairly certain the fag was sucking him clear through the moment, probably swallowing down all his gooey cum. The cute kid went through a few moments more of gyrations before a satisfied smile spread across his face. Ruffling the thick, wavy hair of the cock sucker he hoisted himself up higher on the dune and was immediately replaced by the black youth, who was sporting one major piece of ebony beef. The kid who'd just gotten off sportily jumped from the dune onto the beach and began racing towards the surf---butting shoulders with me and momentarily knocking me off balance. Giggling, he dashed off to dive into the breaking water, presumably washing off his cum load. For an instant there was a flicker of recognition between us and it wasn't until he'd passed that I realized with almost certainty that I'd seen this same teen playing volley ball on the beach with my son, Jay. "Gonna shoot," I could hear the other kid on the dune, seated next to the new black addition, mumble breathlessly. The slut wasted little time in abandoning his mouth of thick black jungle cock and re-stuffing it with quivering young white meat. Having never observed an all-male fuck fest before---and being curiously mesmerized by the decidedly public display---I stepped up for a closer look. Moving to the left side of the white-haired grand-dad, I was now pretty much a part of the group as I looked over his shoulder. All Miles had to do was glance over and he'd have me pretty much in his line of vision, but that fucker was more interested in banging those cute globes he was man-handling while he fucked. The youth appeared to have taken a wicked cum bath from all the dudes who'd jerked off over him: there was jizz all over his back, oozing along the indentation of his spine and dripping from his sides to puddle upon the sand below. Up this close I could now see that the curly-haired kid about to pop his nut was younger than I'd originally thought; fourteen, maybe fifteen, if I was an judge of teen development. The cock sucker's cheeks were deep hollows as he sucked with all his might, snorting like a pig while sloppy, squishing sounds erupted from his working mouth. Dark, wavy bangs swayed to and fro across his brow as he sucked with wild abandon, emitting a lusty groan when the younger teen spewed his seed. And then suddenly my breath caught in my throat and my eyes flared wide when, for the first time, I realized that the well-endowed, athletically-built teen positioned in the center of no less than eight cock-wielding horndogs of differing ages and races, WAS MY TEEN-AGED SON, JAY! My pride and joy, apple of my eye, fruit of my loins was being used like a cum bag by all these bastards---and he certainly wasn't struggling against them!! And not only them; how many others had I counted coming and going in the short time I'd observed the orgy? Could it possibly be that my son had been sucking and fucking since early afternoon when he'd departed our family scene? Is this what he'd been up to each and every time we'd gone to the beach this past summer?? It was a rude awakening to discover, especially in this manner that my son, school jock, was queer for cock!!! There was a part of me, the protective father, who wanted to barge in there and tear my son away from these cock wielding sex maniacs, drag his ass down the beach and beat the fuck out of him for what he was doing. But, at least for the moment, I managed to restrain myself. The young one, having finally finished blowing his load, fell back exhausted across the top of the dune while Jay dutifully licked his rod clean, not wasting one stray droplet of heady cum. One of the jerkers directly across from me, a late-twenties Italian-looking guy sporting a wedding band, lost his nut and shot a hefty load which rained across my son's already drenched back. Soon as he'd caught his breath he moved on down the beach, mission accomplished, only to be replaced by a squat, hairy brute with a short, but fat prick. The young kid on the dune hung out for a few moment's more to watch the black guy purposefully slap his thick root against the sides of my son's face until Jay managed to trap the head between his dripping, cock sucker's lips. When the kid finally rolled off the dune and departed, the middle aged stroker to my left stepped over into his place, offering my son his swollen member. Jay was like an ecstatic puppy dog, going from black cock to mature cock and back again. When it was the older dude's turn again, he took my son by the back of the head and held him in place while he pumped his cock ball's deep into Jay's throat. Once again I observed a wedding band on this man's hand, and began to wonder just how hetero married men really were! Miles had his cock buried up Jay's ass hole, ramming into my boy like a raging bull. Sweat was pouring off his body, his eyes were all glazed over like he was having some sort of revelation, and I feared for a moment the guy would suffer himself a heart seizure. Jay was wriggling his little ass in rhythm to Miles' full-fledged assault, blatantly teasing the fucker on! Miles, the white-collar pen-pusher who'd spent hours discussing sports with me, his beach buddy, was roughly fucking my son---and I was certain this wasn't the first time. Every time our families met they had shared polite greetings and nothing more. Who would ever have suspected that when my underage son and middle-aged Miles were absent from our group they were fucking up a storm out here on this remote area of gay beach? Miles started breathing hot and heavy; his eyeballs rolled up in their sockets and his head fell back on his shoulders as his body raced toward orgasmic pleasure. Panting heavily, his eyes focused as he slammed his dick all the way into my son's teen cunt---and fixed directly on me! There was no mistaking the look of complete surprise when Miles realized the father of the boy he was fucking was standing there observing his depravity. Well beyond the point of return, Miles was helpless to do anything but writhe and groan as he blew his load deep inside my son's guts. His eyes remain fixed upon mine, never wavering, throughout the entirety of his ball-bursting orgasm. With his face heavily flushed and his pulse beating widly, Miles pumped Jay's hole a few more times before easing out his long, dripping dick. Lewdly fingering my son's freshly fucked ass hole before my eyes, Miles nodded at me. "C'mon, you're next. You know you want to fuck your boy. Get over here before someone else claims him." I suddenly realized that I'd been stroking my rock hard nine inches same as the other guys surrounding my son, one of whom was pumping another milky white load across Jay's soaked back. He hadn't even finished blowing his wad when the old grandfather next to me let loose with his ball juice which coagulated with the rest. Grandpa stepped away and a long-haired surfer type dude took his place, practically elbowing me out of the way in his desire to join the group. Two other guys---one a thirty-something Hispanic and the other a chubby mid-twenties, bespectacled bookworm---squeezed in next to the hairy brute on the other side of my boy. Jay appeared not to have heard Miles addressing me; he was busily stuffing his face with the now-three cocks in front of him (yet another marriage band had sat himself down on the dune, placing the black buck in the middle of the three) while he alternately jerked the cocks to his sides. I'd shifted close enough that I was within in his reach and practically blew my own load when my son unwittingly wrapped his fist around my big boy and gave it a few hurried pumps. "I wan' sum o' that white ass," the greedy black youth announced. His foot-long was already receiving a sloppy, fevered blow job---and I shuddered to think how my son would manage to get it all up his ass when Miles stepped in. "His Dad gets first dibs," Miles told the others. "Come on and take your boy's ass, Dad." The black yanked his dick out of Jay's mouth, grabbed a handful of cheeks and looked directly into his face. "That really yo' daddy, white boy?" Seemed almost like it was in slo-mo, but Jay twisted his head around to look up over his shoulder. His not-so-innocent blue eyes flared widely when he recognized his old man standing adjacent him. Even in this panicky moment of discovery, the slut's gaze wandered down to rest on my obscenely erect cock before his appreciative eyes slowly meandering up my torso until he was fixed on my angry piercing orbs once again. "DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDD!!!!" he muttered through sloppily wet, cum-drenched lips. That was all he had time to say before the black buck grabbed a fist full of Jay's hair and yanked his head back to his crotch. Jay choked and sputtered as the well-hung youth shoved his humongous hard-on between his lips and clear down his throat. "Swallow that fuckin' black dick, bitch," the ghetto stud muttered, "while yo' daddy fucks da shit out of yo' slut ass!" Grasping Jay by the back of the head, he started crudely fucking my boy's face. The protests coming from my son, adequately muffled by the huge foot-long raping his throat, had less to do with the cock in his mouth than it did with me. His baby blues were wide and tearing, watching me from the side as I moved in closer and knelt so's I was nearly face to face with him. Inch after thick inch of ebony meat coursed between his lips until his nose was in the nigger's thick, wiry bush and the huge cock was buried to the sweaty balls in his face hole. Jay let out a guttural moan as saliva leaked from the corners of his stuffed mouth and clear snot oozed from his nostrils---fear clearly written all over his sweaty face. My lips curled up in a mean snarl and I leaned in closer to growl into his ear. "Daddy's gonna punish you now, Jay-boy! But I ain't gonna ground you and I ain't gonna take away any of your things. Daddy's gonna punish you by fuckin' you like the sleazy, low-life cum whore you are!" My All-American boy was trying to shout---possibly scream---but the thick-lipped black muscle buck was holdin' on to Jay's head and fucking his face hard. The thug showed absolutely no mercy; my son was just another white hole for him to plow with that jaw-breaking twelve incher. I could swear I saw the fuckin' head outlined in Jay's bloated throat as it mercilessly rammed back and forth. A perverse sense of pleasure seemed to have overtaken me: I was glad my slut son had taken on more than he could chew, glad the cock master was treating him so roughly, glad he was being force-fed ethnic cock by a mean-looking mother fucker we'd have both avoided on the streets. To further add to his depravity, I spat full on my son's face before rising up and purposefully strutting into position behind him. Miles' face was all excitement as I slapped my raging hard on against my son's sticky crevice and thumbed his firm, rounded ass cheeks apart. Jay's yawning shit hole, which was freely leaking a virtual stream of man cum, tried to clamp shut against me but his efforts were to no avail. With all the fucking he'd obviously taken this afternoon his sphincter was too loose for backing out of one more torrid fuck---this time from his hunky and hung old man. Miles came up directly behind me, pressing his body firmly into mine so's I could feel his hard-on against my ass cheeks and up into the small of my back, and enfolded me in his muscular arms. As his fingers toyed with my painfully hardened nipples, his wet tongue filled my ear and his hot breath echoed. "Shove that big, fat cock into that boy pussy! He feels soooooooooo good. Prime ass hole on your kid! I love fuckin' his hole, been fuckin' it for two summer's now. Got him all warmed him up for you, Dad. It's your turn; show him a real hot Daddy fuck! Go on! Ram it the fuck in, give him a ride he won't forget and show the little slut who's his Daddy!" Such vile, perverse talk from married Miles served to incense the beast within me. Directing my fat cock head at my boy's winking bull's eye I pressed forward, breaching his wrinkled pucker. I'd only meant to tease his hole with my big mushroom knob, but Jay's chute was so fuckin' wet and slippery from all the cum loads he'd taken up there---and I was so aroused knowin' I was porkin' my son, the beach whore---that I easily plunged deep inside until my ball bag slapped against his perineum. Jay was yelping around the huge black thug cock pounding his tonsils as I ground around deep in his mushy, cum-saturated guts while all the other studs surrounding him watched in wide-eyed fascination, jerking their beef-steaks more frantically. A few more late-day beach voyeurs had sauntered over to observe the live sex show; there were more than a dozen of us in total. As I slowly pulled back, watching inch after bloated inch of my fat prick slide out of my boy's pussy, Miles grasped hold of my cum-coated stalk and gave it a few full-fisted strokes. Shocked the livin' hell out of me when he brought that wet hand up to his mouth and started licking his fingers like he'd just had a nice, greasy fried chicken dinner. These guys were all a bunch of sex maniacs and my cock head was being grasped by the wet ass lips of the biggest one of 'em all---my heir apparent, Jay! Grabbing hold of Jay's tight waist, I thrust hard and heavy into his hot boy pussy. Seeing the way he was being force fed that monster of a black dick, the way his greedy hands were never without a cock to stroke and the thought of countless beach predators having their way with him all afternoon really got me going. Not to mention the things Miles was doing to my naked flesh: tweaking my rock-hard nipples, caressing my hairy torso and gliding his wet lips and tongue along the back of my neck. I could feel his raging hard-on against my back leaving a trail of wet cum goo as it glided against my nakedness. Never in all my years had I imagined sex with other guys could feel so fuckin' good! I continued to drive into Jay, literally pounding his ass with my full length of rabid daddy dick. For maybe half a second I wondered if I might be hurting him with such a savage assault, quickly deciding that a hard fuck was what the little cock sucker deserved. My hardness torpedoed in and out of his sloppy hole, fucking my son so ferociously than I thought sure someone would suggest I ease up a bit. But these guys were really into it; watching a hot daddy type take his cute, cum-drenched boy. Even after they'd blown their loads all over his back, some of the shit splashing on my hands grasping Jay's bucking hips, they remained to watch. "Fuckin' shit! Here it comes!" the black thug muttered through thick quivering lips. Shifting position in the hot sand, I leaned over my son's body. Now pretty much fucking him like a dog, my face was close to that of my boy, his smooth cheek practically pressed to my day's growth of stubble. I could clearly smell the sex from the loins of the charcoal black street tough. "Take that fuckin' load," I growled evilly. "Swallow every fuckin' drop of his hot cum!" The black cocksman's body began to spasm and with a strangled shout of "muthafuck" began to blow his nut. Jay snorted and sputtered as thick nigger cream burst into his mouth and shot down his throat. His eyes were wide and tearing, nostrils flaring widely as he fought to keep up with the seemingly unending flow. I watched with carnal interest as his adam's apple bobbed up and down each time he swallowed the heady spunk. The black dude continued to shoot one mighty load. There was so much ball juice that it oozed from the corners of Jay's rapidly sucking and swallowing mouth. With perverse fascination, I observed Jay lick the entire twelve inches clean even after it had spewed its last drop. Free of cock for the moment, Jay looked at me---his father---through sex-glazed eyes as my cock resumed plunging itself into his anal depths. There was no doubt about it: my son was a crazed nymphomaniac! Bare seconds had passed before someone else---the wedding ring---stuffed his prick between Jay's lips. As if he hadn't yet had enough, Jay started sucking on this guy's dick while he watched me from the corner of his eye. Rising to my former position, I suddenly realized that Miles was no longer behind me. The sonofabitch had somehow crawled on his back underneath Jay---I could see his forehead just below my bouncing balls---and was giving my son a wild and wooly blow job! New arrivals had taken place of some of the others, whose loads had been shot and were resting atop the dune where they had a bird's eye view of the action. I hadn't seen so much exposed cock in one place since the last time I'd been in my high school locker room! The sun was crawling down toward the horizon, casting late day shadows over our horny assemblage. It was just through some stroke of dumb luck that beach patrol hadn't yet made their rounds---and I sure wasn't anxious to be caught with my cock up my son's candy box. Pumping up the tempo even faster, my raging plunger was practically a blur as it fiercely pounded into Jay's drenched ass hole. Tingling spasms began to race through my heaving body and I knew my release was imminent. Bellowing through clenched teeth, I slammed my full nine inches into his hot, churning fuck hole and exploded deep inside my son. Can't put into words how it felt; it was the best fuckin' cum of my life! My throbbing prick just kept splashing wave after frothy wave of daddy juice against Jay's already cum-soaked insides. The force of my orgasm made me light-headed and weak in the knees, draining me not only of succulent sperm but of nearly every ounce of energy. Just when I'd pulsed my last drop I felt Jay's insides tighten around me. Through my sensitive daddy dick I experienced my son's own orgasm as he dropped his pent-up load into Miles' sucking chasm. My boy was just like me---a heavy cummer---and I know ole Miles got himself a hefty mouthful of sweet young teen jizz. Finally yanking my crank out of Jay's shit chute, I stepped back for a moment to catch my breath. More dudes were blowin' their wads over Jay, who was virtually bathed in cum by now. The married dude started writhing around and soon shot his load into Jay's cum hungry mouth. I hadn't uncorked my son but for a few seconds before the oldest coot of the day---must have been close to seventy---with surprisingly agility dropped himself to the sand, yanked my son's butt cheeks apart and started eating out his cum soaked ass hole! The old fuck's wrinkled cheeks were hollows as his lips latched onto Jay's swollen ass lips and sucked mouthful's of spent cum---mine included---from the teen's used fuck hole!! I figured "what the fuck"---let him clean my boy up some before I hauled his whore ass off the beach. When blackie dropped down from the dune with his twelve inch schlong blazing hard again to push the old ass eater out of the way and prepare to stuff Jay with that monster, I decided enough was enough. Not that I wouldn't have liked to heard my son squeal when he got plugged with that ass-ripper, but the sun was rapidly going down and we had to get back to the wife. Taking charge, I grabbed Jay under the arms and yanked him to a standing position. "That's enough for today!" I barked to the others, who looked a little disappointed. The old guy didn't waste a moment in latching his gums onto the black anaconda, while others wandered further off down the beach or paired off with a new dune buddy. Gathering Jay up over my shoulder, I walked him out into the surf and started roughly cleaning his body off with salty ocean water. Miles soon joined in and together we washed Jay clean. Not a word was transferred between us, even after we'd washed up and begun the long walk back to our wives. The women were packing up camp when we got back to the saner side of the beach, not even doubting our contrived explanations of where we'd been for so long. We walked together to the parking lot, Jay lazily taking up the rear. I imagined it was a bit difficult for him to walk after the afternoon's pounding he'd had. As we parted in the thinning lot I turned to Miles and offered him my hand. As we shook with firm, manly grasps the corners of my mouth turned up in a secretive smile which Miles returned with a wink and a smile of his own. Turning to Jay, who I was certain wasn't quite sure what the future held for him, I put a strong arm across his shoulders and walked my son to our wheels. Jay and I never spoke about that afternoon on the beach. Just to ease your curious minds, there's been no late night daddy-son play at our house. Winter is slowly closing in and it looks to be one hell of a frigid one, making up for all the decent ones we've had in past years. Last evening, in fact, we were talking about it around the dinner table and how we're already looking forward to next summer. "How about you, Jayson?" the wife asked my son as she passed the whipped potatoes. "Since you like your ski trips with your class mates and all, are you looking forward to next summer on the beach?" "Sure thing, mom!" he piped up enthusiastically. "This was the best summer ever! Can't wait to get back to the beach!" And then his blue eyes looked over at me full of sparkling mischief. "How about you, Dad?"