Hot Sand: Just a Taste of Heaven

I didn't protest to much when Hash started undressing me. I should have; I was the cruise representative, and joining in was wrong. Even watching was wrong, I knew it, but I'll be darned if I didn't want Hash to fuck me, right there and right then.

I'd learned a lot having sex with him over the last week or so, but I was still a neophyte. The things I was seeing on that beach, the energy and the sheer, off the hook lustful hunger of so many of those older women, it was incredibly inspiring. It made me want to try, to see if I too could go a little wild, or more than a little wild, on a lost-at-sea island where rules were banished and forgotten, even if only for an hour or two. How long is a human life? The average person lives more than half a million hours, six hundred fifty seven thousand, to be exact, so what's just one or two hours given away to the dark side? It's nothing, hardly a blip, but here I am, twenty five years later, still remembering it.

Of course I wasn't doing this much thinking back then. I was too busy undressing, fast, and watching as Hash scrambled out of his shorts, his remarkable banana-curved cock springing out fully formed, as hot and hard as hot and hard can be.

I lunged for it with my hand and mouth, giving Hash what I realized was my first real blowjob. I'd given him quite a lot of lesser ones, but this, with my drool dripping and my moans gurgling, this was a real blowjob, and I loved it more than I ever realized I could.

I loved on Hash's cock and balls with my mouth and my hands, hungrily, for a long, long time, and then he bent me over the gunnel of the excursion boat and, with our feet in the tickling waves, he fucked me like a dirty whore. And oh my God did I love that, too! And then, somehow, we let ourselves be swallowed up by orgy, and I knew life as I'd known it would never be the same.

It was hash who led us to the others, his hand holding mine. I would have thought a girl like me would have been frightfully nervous, joining in to an orgy group with entirely older men, but I remember my emotions in those early moments as being nothing but a very pure sort of deeply horny curiosity. Maybe it was because the heat of the orgy was only ten steps away, or maybe because Hash had just fucked me so wonderfully, stirring up nothing but wonderful feelings in my mind. For whatever reason, I was ready. Hands reached for my naked body, and mouths found me, and the simple magical pleasure of it swept me away. I knew, instantly, why the other women had let themselves go, why they'd let the forbidden happen. It felt like a force. It felt like magic.

All the men were suddenly beautiful, suddenly exotic. Their true looks mattered not; their aroused, hard cocks turned my inexperienced young-girl mind upside-down. I had one in my hand — a hot, heavy, velvety cock that felt even harder than Hash's. It belonged to a man twice my age, or maybe older. I remember he had blue eyes, eyes that looked wondrously loving and gently horny. It was John, the somewhat quiet husband of Kathy, a nice couple I'd casually chatted with a few times onboard ship. Being naked with him in the sun on that beach seemed magical. Kissing him there, that way, with his big, hard cock in my hand, enraptured me to the point of blissful dizziness.

John's wife Kathy was already down on her knees on the white sand, with Hash's nice cock in her mouth, her guttural moans already sputtering with drool. I'd seen the way the older women looked at Hash aboard the ship; he was very much an object of desire. Soon another woman was there, helping Kathy give him a blowjob; one that, if his beautiful face was any way to judge, filled him with ecstasy.

I, in my girlish way, made the transition from kissing John's mouth to kissing his cock, me on my knees now, John moaning his pleasure, with his head tipped back. Was he looking at the perfect blue sky, I wondered? Was he thinking about his wife? Did he know that she and the other woman were luring Hash down onto the hot sand, devouring his naked body with their hungry mouths? Did John know that his quiet, lovely wife Kathy was mounting Hash's big, upstanding cock, letting it penetrate deep into her bare-naked pussy? Her loud, grunting, animalistic moan as it happened made John look, not at her but at me. Yes, he took a glance at her, to assure himself of things, and then he fucked me, me on hands and knees now, with him behind me, and the crazy dream of it all went into a beautiful blur. The beach was alive with sex, the normally silent air filled with the extraordinary sounds of it. Moans, and gasps, and happy cries. The noises of ecstasy, and fun giggles. The expected words, sounding nothing but exciting —"Oh my God!" and "Yes!" and "Do it!...Do it!"

It was all so astonishing. It was all so perfect.

John didn't last long. Maybe a girl my age turned him on more than usual. After fucking me nicely and deeply, he came hard, louder than I expected, his thrilling noises adding to the beach's carnal chorus. I felt his cum hit my sweaty back, and I turned my head, giving him a look of happy innocence, I'm sure, as he pumped his dripping cum out of his cock with his hand. The woman who helped Kathy with Hash's blowjob was there in an instant, taking John's messy cock into her mouth, making him moan again, so loudly. I left them, somehow using my body to stand up, so dreamily, and I wandered toward a thicket of naked men and naked women, in the very heart of the raging orgy. I stood there, surrounded by it, feeling like a ghost, or an alien, or maybe just a girl. It was the first time in my life that I felt a deep craving for a very hard fucking, and a very hairy, very naked man reached out and gave it to me.

His fat cock nearly split me, me on hands and knees again. I watched him over my shoulder as best I could, his powerful virility mesmerizing me. The orgiastic fever had caused him to lose his mind, I think, and he fucked me like an animal. This was wildness that I'd never experienced before, never even thought of. I came in a gusher, a literal, squirting gusher, my girlish voice suddenly free and screaming. Yes, this was it! This was ravishment of the highest order! Never had I felt anything quite like it...and then another man was in me, not as split-me-open thick, but deeper, much deeper. Yes! This it it, too! Fuck me more, I wanted to yell! But I didn't have to yell my begging desire — the flood gates were already open, sweaty, sex-smelling bodies were circulating, women were hopping from man to man, and I think every man on the beach fucked me at least once. I rode like a bouncing cowgirl, I doggy-styled my brains out, and I was held in the air by Ritchie's well-muscled arms as his hot cock fucked upward into me. He handed me to two other men and they all fucked me before my feet ever touched the ground. Me, a girl their daughters' age, I'm sure, and oh, my, did they ever get off on it. I did, too, my older man fantasies wildly engaged. I even sucked and fucked a man who looks, rather startlingly, like my dear sweet uncle. I went back to him for seconds, if you must know the whole truth of it. I made my way to Richie a second time, too.

The ship, and it's outings, operate on a strict schedule, so it was up to Hash and me to put the brakes on things, although the frenzy had already slowly quieted down to a simmer, with some of the couples already back together, some of them swimming to clean themselves up. Interestingly, for the most part the nudity lingered. There was an odd sense of naturalness to the scene, as though real life had shifted on its axis a bit, toward a type of humanity that's usually only dreamt of. The swimsuits and clothing stayed off as long as possible, and, for me at least, there was a hope that this magical afternoon would never end.

But it did, and back onboard the ship, with everyone showered and combed and clothed, it surprised me to see life very much back to normal. Of course the men who fucked me had delightful twinkles in their eyes, and I'm sure I did, too. Hash and I talked about it all, how magical and wonderful it had been. And orgy in paradise. It truly was the stuff of dreams.

Getting back to my normal activities on the ship, I did my best to avoid the kindly priest, but as far as him knowing anything about what had happened on the island that day, he seemed oblivious. Or was he? He was, after all, the de facto marriage counselor, not only shepherding the group counseling sessions but meeting with couples alone, to help them along with their marriage encounter experience. Certainly at least one of the couples must have asked for advice on how to process what had happened out there, that primitive coming together, that wildly rearing sexuality that swept us all away under the warm tropical sun. It wasn't as if it was something small that could be compartmentalized. No, this was the big stuff, this broke the boundaries of marriage, giving credence to all those warnings about lust that so many religions keep front and center in handbooks. How it affected all the men and women that were with us that day is something I'll never know for sure, but I'd be shocked if at least one of them didn't need some counseling from Father O'Brien after the fever of orgy had passed.

—

Now, I'm forty-six years old. I'm a professor of anthropology at a major university, and my research and teachings are mainly focused on human sexuality. That summer on the cruise ship, and truly that very day on the beach, changed the track of my life. When I returned to school that fall, for my senior year, I took my first class on sexuality. Then I took another. Eventually I went on to Graduate School at another university, received my Masters, and then a Doctorate, my thesis titled Sexual Habits of Pre-Contact Polynesians.

I know, it sounds very dry, very academic. The research can be that way, I suppose, but I enjoy it. I also enjoy my private life, away from the classrooms, away from the libraries. Twenty years ago, I married a man who understands my interests and my desires. Our marriage is an open one, and we have many like-minded friends. Two are colleagues at the university who we enjoy foursomes with, sharing a big bed after cocktails and dinner. Another is an old friend you already know: dear, sweet Hash, the long haired, bare chested boy who turned my life around. Without him I'm sure I never would have joined in to such a thing as an orgy; not me, not the shy, twenty-one year old book nerd. Never would have happened. And yet it did. Every time Hash comes to visit I thank him for it, giving him my best re-creation of that first real drooling blowjob that I gave him on the beach that day. And then he fucks me like the happy slut that I am.

The End