Date: Mon, 16 Dec 2002 18:31:14 EST
From: Mervro@aol.com
Subject: A DAY AT THE SEASIDE

The year was 1943, the season was summer and the weather was hot and sunny.
Incidentally why is it that memories of youth are always of warm sunny
summers and cold snow laden winters.  Anyway, that day was certainly hot
and sunny and Ken and I decided to spend a day at out favourite beach.
Wartime was obviously a bad time in many ways; food rationed, Bristol,
where we lived, heavily bombed by the Germans, and Ken's father away in the
army.  But there were compensations for youngsters like us, one being that
the seaside beaches were deserted.

It's time I introduced the two of us.  My name is Mervyn, and at the time
of my tale I was 13 years old.  My best friend, Ken, was a year older,
although we were in the same year at school.  We spent virtually all our
spare time together, although being at grammar school meant that free time
was pretty well limited to weekends.  So it was that this particular
Saturday we decided to go swimming at our favourite beach, Brean Sands in
North Somerset.  For those of you unfamiliar with this part of England, the
beach at Brean has several miles of soft golden sands, backed by a large
area of sand dunes providing natural sun traps sheltered from any wind.
Admittedly the sea, being the Bristol Channel, does not have the lovely
blue of the Mediterranean, usually being a muddy brown, but to youngsters
like us that just didn't matter.

We lived in Est Bristol, so having prepared our egg sandwiches (one of the
few things our mothers could spare from the sparse rations) and flasks of
tea we set off by bus; firstly to central Bristol, then to
Weston-super-Mare and finally a local bus to Brean.  Everyone used public
transport in those days, of course.  Even the very few in our area who
owned cars could not use them because there was no petrol available.  So it
was that taking three buses to get to the seaside was no hardship to us.
Nevertheless, by the time we arrived at the beach it was time to consume
our simple lunch.  I managed to make my one egg go further by having
hard-boiled it and chopped it finely to spread over two round of
sandwiches.  Ken preferred a fried egg sandwich, so only had the one round
but with the bread cut much thicker.  I shall always remember that he liked
vinegar on his sandwich but in order that it would not make the bread go
soggy he always brought it in a little medicine bottle.

Having eaten, we stripped off in one of the hollows in the dunes and donned
our swimming trunks.  Making our way down to the water there was not
another human being in sight anywhere along the long beach.  We entered the
sea, and after splashing around for a few minutes Ken suggested that we get
rid of our trunks and swim nude.  This was something I had never done, and
I don't think that Ken had either.  The beach being totally deserted we
slipped off our trunks and threw them onto the beach above the water line.
I must admit that there really is something special about swimming totally
unencumbered by clothing of any sort.  I really was surprised at the
wonderful feeling of freedom that it brought about.  I think we had
probably intended to don out trunks again when we left the water, but after
enjoying a good lazy swim we came out, picked up our discarded trunks and
strolled back up to the dunes.

Not bothering to towel off, we just lay in the sand and allowed the sun to
dry us off.  After a short while I became aware that I needed to pee quite
badly, not having done so since leaving home.  I had discovered some years
earlier, as a child, that peeing in the open air gave me a feeling of being
naughty' and caused my little dicky' to rise up.  Now, lying nude, next to
a nude Ken, and thinking about the need to pee, had the same effect.  Not a
true hard-on, but certainly an increase in length and some firming up.

"I must have a pee" I said to Ken.  "Go ahead" he said, "I had mine in the
sea".  I was somewhat disappointed as I really like watching Ken take a
leak, as in fact I like to watch any nice prick pissing.  However, I really
needed to attend to the pressure from my own bladder, so standing up in the
hollow I pointed my dick at the wall of sand, but then found I had a
problem.  The idea of an open-air pee, and with Ken lying on his back naked
with his somewhat larger prick on full view, I just could not go although I
certainly had plenty of urine to get rid of.  Ken saw that I was pressing
to get started; "Be careful" he said, "or you might produce a different
fluid altogether".

By now I had what amounted to a full hard-on.  "Shut up and let me pee" I
cried to Ken.  I closed my eyes and imagining that I was standing at a
urinal, I eventually managed to get the stream started.  Because of the
restriction of my hard-on the pee came out in a forceful but very thin
stream.  I don't know about you, but I have always found that this produces
a lovely feeling similar to an orgasm.  Having managed to start I was able
to open my eyes and direct this lovely stream all over the place, thus
adding to the somewhat childish fun and really enjoying my open-air pee.

All this time Ken had been watching closely, and although he never seemed
to get the enjoyment out of peeing that I did, it was obvious from the
state of his dick that my performance had certainly had an effect on him.
"You sure you don't need one now" I asked him.  "No. I told you that I got
rid of mine in the sea" said Ken.  "OK" I said, but I think you need to get
rid of something judging by the state of your prick".

Now, you must understand that Ken and I had played with our pricks together
since before puberty, in the days when we just wanted to see how big we
could get them.  This obviously led us to being very good wanking pals when
the ability came to us.  So it was that I lay down beside Ken and gently
took hold of his half-hard dick.  Ken responded likewise, and without a
word being exchanged between us, we both realised that this mutual wank,
naked in the sun, was one that we wanted to make last.  We caressed each
other in various positions: after a few minutes gentle fondling lying on
our backs we rolled towards each other and putting our arms around each
other lay tight together, prick to prick, just moving against each other
slightly to produce the most wonderful tingling in our loins.

As I felt that the time of climax was not that far off, I rolled away from
ken, turned him on his back and adopted my favourite 69' position.  Ken's
prick was quite a large one, but not too large for me to take it in my
mouth and gently suck on the swollen head.  Similarly, after I rubbed the
tip of my somewhat smaller prick against Ken's lips, he too took it into
his mouth.  I did not suck too hard, because I was still anxious to make
the whole thing last, and I knew that when we went at it too hard, Ken was
a very quick one to ejaculate.  However, it was not too long before I felt,
not only that I was not far off, but also that Ken's prick was vibrating in
my mouth.

At that time neither of us had developed our technique to the point where
we were prepared to take cum in our mouths.  In addition to my reservations
on that point, I always liked to watch Ken shoot his load.  He was one of
those lucky boys who could shoot his cum a considerable distance, whereas I
have always been more of an oozer than a shooter.

On this occasion my timing was well nigh perfect.  I sat up from the 69'
position, slid forward to bring out pricks together, and gently wanked the
two in one hand.  Suddenly Ken's prick erupted, his first shot of cum
catching me high on my chest and the second shooting even higher but
missing me falling back onto our conjoined pricks.  That did it for me, as
I slid my hand up and down our now cum soaked pricks my cum joined Ken's in
the general mess around our two crotches, drenching not only our pricks,
but giving our balls a good soaking as well.

I rolled off Ken, and we lay beside each other in the wonderful afterglow
of a really good wank.  At that time it was certainly the best sex I had
ever experienced, and the most cum that either of us had ever produced.
After a few minutes we struggled up and walked down to the sea to clean
ourselves up.  Back in the dunes, we once again lay down in the sun, but
this time for a nap after our wanking exertions.

When we awoke, we finished the last of the tea in our flasks, and Ken came
out with one of his great suggestions.  I should tell you that Ken was
always inventing new ways of satisfying his young sexual needs; one day I
called at his house and he invited me up to his bedroom where he had
created a woman' with the use of pillows, his mother's clothes and a
shaving soap container for a quim.  He told me that he had only just
finished a glorious wank with his new creation, and showed me the content
of the soap container to prove it.  Now he suggested that we could create a
naked woman in the sand on the beach.  I agreed and we set to, and Ken, who
was an excellent modeller, had just finished forming a great pair of
breasts, when we realised that we had nothing to use for a cunt.  We were
pondering this problem when we suddenly became aware of a man walking
towards us.  Ken, trying to hide the evidence, threw himself on the sand
woman.  Remembering that we were both still naked, it was obvious to the
man what we had been up to.  Ken was lying face down on the model, and I
was sitting alongside butt naked. "Trying to fuck a sand model" said the
man. Then looking at my soft prick, "Want to see a real man-sized dick?".
Politely I declined, but it made no difference, he was already unbuttoning.
Up to then the only men's pricks I had seen had been my father's, which was
a reasonable size, and my older brother's which was reasonably long, but
very thin.  What this man now flashed at us was something the like of which
I had never then seen. Trying to remember clearly all these years later, I
guess it was about nine inches long, and very thick too.  It was not fully
hard, but fairly well engorged.  We declined his invitation to play with
it, and insisted that we must get dressed to catch our bus.  What would
have happened if we had agreed to his request I shall never know, because
he accepted our pleas and tucking it away in his pants he buttoned up and
continued his walk along the beach.

As soon as he walked away, we scuttled back into our hollow in the dunes.
It was indeed getting near the time we must pack up and head for the bus
stop. "Better have a pee before we go" said Ken, much to my delight.  We
stood side by side, Ken beginning to piss virtually straight away whilst
the excitement of open air peeing was already affecting my prick.  Ken's
powerful stream was a delight to watch, and even he was affected by the joy
of alfresco peeing and was waving it about.  I started too, and feeling
really naughty accidentally' sprayed my golden stream over Ken's feet and
legs.  He swung round to retaliate and my lower limbs were soon dripping
with his piss.  By the time we both emptied our bladders, both young pricks
were showing clear signs of excitement.  I stood behind Ken and rubbed my
now almost hard prick against his ass cheeks, at the same time reaching
round to wank his dick.  Realising that in such a position Ken would finish
long before me, I moved alongside him where he immediately started to wank
my prick.  We went at it hard and fast this time, and very soon Ken was
shooting another goodly load, whilst I followed shortly afterwards with a
pretty good downward spurt of my own Oh for the virility of youth!.

The piss had by now dried on our legs, and we needed to dress quickly,
collect our belongings and run to catch the only afternoon bus back to
Weston, and hence to home.  Ken and I remained great friends right through
our teenage years and in fact until we were both engaged to two lovely
girls.  Even then our mutual wanking remained a regular feature of our
lives, especially when we went on holiday together, sharing a chalet at a
holiday camp.  Unfortunately at the age of about 21 Ken was diagnosed as
diabetic, and was advised to restrict sexual activities, at least until his
illness could be brought under control.  I am now in my 70s but still look
back on those innocent growing-up days with great affection, and in fact
use those wonderful memories when wanking today.