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.