A Day At The Seaside 2

Title:

A Day At The Seaside -- An Unexpected Adventure

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Short Description:

What happens in Southend - stays in Southend.

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Location:

Southend-On-Sea -- United Kingdom.

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Tags:

Heterosexual, First time, Blow-Job, Reluctance, Non consent.

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Word Count:

7,050

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Preamble:

Hi, and thank you for choosing my story.

Please Note:

Both of the characters in this short story are over the age of eighteen. I hope you enjoy.

Hi.

I'm Macey.

If you have read many of my stories, you will have probably worked out that I don't usually go for men - it's usually girls that get me hot.

With men, I get turned off by the bold, muscular keep-fit types, but if I

do

ever go with a man, he would tend to be older. I feel that young boys don't usually have much idea about how to please a girl, and younger men often think they're doing great if they just ram it in and fuck me as hard and fast as they can. Great for a few seconds, but they often don't make it last.

Older guys always seem more gentle and caring, and more likely to give me what I want. And I love to tease and get them worked up before I give them what they want (but don't tell my girlfriend - she would go ballistic if she found out - he he).

Anyway -

There was this one time I met a guy on holiday, before I was with my current girlfriend. He was about 50ish - maybe older, but he looked really dishy. He was sitting on a bench looking out to sea and I was walking by, finishing my ice-cream. I could see he was watching me - albeit as discreetly as possible, so I walked over and sat on the bench beside him.

I had just turned eighteen at the time, and was looking to have some fun with my recently achieved adulthood.

I was dressed from head to toe in

designer distressed

shocking pink, comprising a loose fitting tee-shirt that months ago I had taken a pair of scissors to, having cropped it roughly at the bottom to leave the hem ragged and frayed, which permitted an occasional glimpse of my bare midriff above a pair of bright pink shorts that sat low on my hips, and had also been hacked a little shorter, leaving strands of pink threads hanging from the frayed legs, along with matching plimsolls and ankle socks. I had even used pink ribbons to tie my long blonde hair into my favourite pigtails.

For anyone who hasn't read my Brief History, I should point out that I have a genetic defect that caused me to stop growing normally before I reached puberty. Because of that I'm only four feet ten tall, so I imagine I must have looked quite cute.

We started talking and he said he was on holiday. I asked why he was alone and he told me he loved the holiday atmosphere at the seaside, but had to come alone now because he had lost his wife a few years ago. He sounded bitter. I said I was alone too, because my friend had gone off with a boy she just met. I asked if he would mind if I sat with him, and he agreed.

He asked me my name, and I told him, "I'm Macey. What's your name?"

"I'm Rob," he told me. "It's short for Robert, but I prefer plain Rob... or Robbie," he smiled.

He asked if I would like a drink and I said yes, so we walked over to a beach-front bar and he bought himself a beer and a cola for me. I know he must have had them put something in it, because I usually drink Bacardi and I could taste the alcohol. I had a pretty good idea what he was up to, but I went along with it 😉

We had a couple of drinks and he told me how lonely he was since his wife left him. "Oh," I said. "I thought you meant she had died."

He looked uncomfortable, but said, "No. She left me for a younger man. That's what I meant when I said I lost her. I lost her to a young beefcake guy," he added. He seemed to be seething.

I told him not to waste his worry over her. She obviously wasn't worth his love. He seemed encouraged by that, and perhaps a little surprised by my apparent insight. I decided I'd better be careful if I was going to carry the charade off properly.

He moved around to sit beside me on the bench table - what I call Teddy Bear tables (the ones with a table and seats all built together) and he put his arm around my shoulders - just protective like, and he gave me a hug and kissed my hair. It felt warming to have him hold me like that, and I felt a familiar tingle down below I really liked it.

I looked up into his eyes and smiled at him and he leaned in closer. I thought he was going to kiss me, so I looked away, then down. That's when I saw the lump in his pants.

"Oh. What's that?" I asked, feigning a naive innocence.

"Oh nothing," he smiled. "I just have something in my pocket."

"Can I see?" I asked, teasing.

"I don't think you're ready for that," he smiled, adding a kindly sort of laugh.

"Oh please?" I begged.

He paused, considering the possibility. "Maybe later," he replied.

He asked how old I was. I needed to be honest, so I told him with a bright smile, "I'm just turned eighteen."

He gave me a suspicious look, but simply smiled back, replying, "Yeah. OK."

"No. Honestly," I told him.

"OK," he repeated. "I believe you," he smiled.

We talked for a little longer and I told him I was here with my parents, but they go off to play Bingo, so they left me to do the amusement arcades with my friend, but then she went off with this boy and his friends.

He asked where my hotel was and I told him I was in a Bed & Breakfast place. I said it was a dump, and he told me his was quite nice. I told him we can't afford a posh hotel.

"So... Would you like to see where I'm staying then?" he suggested. I suspect he thought I would be scared to go with him, but I agreed. He seemed really surprised.

We walked off along the promenade for about ten minutes, during which time I reached up and took hold of his hand. He looked down at me, clearly surprised by my forwardness, but I just smiled up at him, happily.

I could almost hear his thoughts, and could see the lust in his eyes, but I just smiled and started skipping along, the way a happy child might do.

Before long, we took a turn up one of the side streets toward the residential area of the town.

"Can we watch TV when we get there?" I asked," while looking up at him and smiling suggestively.

"After," he replied.

"After what?" I asked, innocently.

He just smiled.

Eventually we came to this big old Victorian house with a sign at the front - It said ***** Guest House. We went to the back and he was looking around suspiciously as he let us in.

"Looks like there's no-one else home," he smiled, hurrying me in through the back door.

No-one saw us as we crept up to the top of the house, and he opened a door with his key.

"Come in... quickly," he told me.

He seemed in a hurry to get us inside the room, still looking around in case anymore might see us.

There were clothes and other stuff strewn all over the bed and the chairs, which he quickly gathered together and threw into a wardrobe.

"Can we watch TV now?" I asked, brightly.

"In a minute," he replied. "Would you like a drink first?" he asked.

"No thank you," I replied. "I just want to watch TV. Can we?" I asked again.

"Maybe later," he replied. "Just sit with me for a while," he suggested, taking a place on the edge of the bed.

"Can't we sit together and watch TV... can we? Please?" I asked, heading for the one armchair in the room.

"Oh, very well," he agreed. "Why don't we both sit there? You can sit on my lap," he smiled.

He took the TV remote and sat down, flicking through the channels until he found one with some cartoons playing, and as I sat on his lap, he put one arm around my waist and the other on my knee.

I'm sure he must have thought I would try to stop him, but I just leaned against him and rested my head on his chest, laughing at the cartoons.

Very soon he must have begun to feel a little bolder, because his fingertips began to caress the inside of my knee, and he kissed my hair as I snuggled up against him. Seeing that I wasn't objecting, his hand began to caress my knee, slowly, very gradually moving up my leg. Then he raised his hand to scratch his nose, putting it down again a little higher. The caressing began again, stroking the inside of my thigh. Several times he raised his hand to scratch his cheek or his chin, discretely replacing it a little higher each time, occasionally kissing my forehead too, until eventually his palm was resting close to the top of my thigh, his fingers still caressing me so very gently.

I moaned softly and parted my legs slightly, seemingly unconsciously as I whispered, "Mmmm. That feels so nice," closing my eyes as I pressed my cheek against his chest.

I wriggled myself against him as his fingertips found their way to the inside leg of my shorts, and I moaned softly, parting my legs a little wider.

Clearly encouraged by my responses, his fingertips found the very top of my thigh, inside the leg of my shorts, and he caressed the soft, tender skin of the joint, while I continued trying to watch the TV.

Very soon I found myself leaning back over the arm of the chair as his fingers aroused me more and more. I wasn't watching the TV any longer. Now I was laid out across his lap, my arms stretched high above my head pulling my tee-shirt up, exposing my midriff and navel to him. I could almost hear his thoughts as he looked down at my bare tummy and those bony hips, mentally undressing me as his fingers cautiously explored. I could tell he would have loved to just rip it all off - so near, yet so far.

"You know Maisie..." he began.

"It's Macey," I corrected him.

"Sorry. I meant Macey," he said. "You know... I find you very pretty," he told me.

"Really?" I replied, looking up and feeling flattered.

"Yes. Of course," he assured me. "You're really pretty."

"Oh... you're just saying that," I blushed.

"No. Really," he said. "But..."

'Oh. Here it comes', I thought.

"You know what I like most about pretty girls?" he said.

"No? What?"

"I like to see their lovely titties," he smiled.

"Oh," I replied, looking concerned.

"Do you think I could see

your

titties?" he asked.

"But... I don't have any titties yet," I told him, with a curious expression and a matter-of-fact tone.

"Yet?" he repeated, seeming surprised, and perhaps a little excited too.

That must have clinched it. I could feel the lump in his pants suddenly grow bigger, but I pretended not to notice.

"Please may I see your titties?" he asked again.

"I'm not sure, I told him, sounding reluctant. "My Mammy told me I shouldn't let strangers see me undressed."

"Oh. I understand. But... I'm not a stranger am I," he told me. "We're friends now, aren't we? I bought you a drink," he added.

"I don't know," I replied, sucking my finger, trying to look apprehensive, and pouting as I peered up at him.

"I did buy you a drink," he repeated.

"Two," I corrected him.

"Oh. Yes... two. All the more reason then," he smiled.

He lifted me until I sat straight on his lap, and he reached for the hem of my tee-shirt.

"I don't really want to sir," I whined.

"You don't need to call me sir," he smiled. "Just call me Robbie... as we're such good friends now."

"I don't want to Mister Robbie," I repeated, looking bashful.

"Lift your arms up now. There's a good girl," he countered, ignoring my plea.

"I really shouldn't," I told him.

"Come along. I only want to look," he reasoned.

"Well... OK then... Just for a minute."

"Oh my goodness Maisie," he sighed, as he pulled the tee-shirt up and over my head, tossing it aside.

"It's

Macey,

" I corrected him again.

"Sorry... Macey," he apologised, "but you are such a sweet little thing," he told me. "Now. Let me get a proper look at you," he said, gripping me by the shoulders and turning me to face him on his lap.

I could see the lust building in his eyes as he took in the proximity of my almost shapeless body. The frail looking torso with two tiny breasts, no bigger than a pair of small fried eggs, each topped with a stiff little caramel coloured nipple standing proud of my otherwise almost completely flat chest, and below, the tiny navel adorning my slim waist, with the tops of my hip bones just visible above the waistband of my shorts.

"You look so beautiful," he told me, staring down at my minute breasts. "I think I'd like to kiss them," he smiled. "Would you like that?"

"I don't know," I told him, pouting as I shrank away, crossing my arms over my front in a vain effort to hide myself. "No-one has ever even seen me like this before," I lied.

"Well, you'll never know if you don't try," he smiled.

I paused for a moment, until he urged me. "Come along. I won't hurt you, I promise... and I know you'll like it," he smiled.

"Oh... alright then," I reluctantly agreed.

He smiled and slipped one arm behind my back and the other around my waist, leaning me backwards across the arm of the chair as he lifted my half naked body up toward him. And as he did so he brought his lips gently into contact with one tiny nipple.

"Oh," I gasped. "Oh. Ooohh."

"There. Does that feel nice?" he asked.

"It tickles," I told him, giggling.

"Hmmm. Yes, it does, doesn't it," he said softly, his free hand moving down to caress the side of my body.

"Here. Let's try again."

This time his free hand reached up to gently caress the other breast as he opened his mouth, pressing his lips over the nipple while using his tongue to trace tiny circles around the stiffening areola.

"Oh Mister Robbie," I moaned softly. "That feels wonderful," I sighed.

"I knew you'd like it," he smiled, reaching across to kiss the other one, which he gently pinched between his lips.

"Oh yes. Oh yes," I moaned. "Oh that feels so nice. Please, do it some more."

"I can do better than that," he told me.

His hand moved down again, coming to rest near the top of my bare thigh once again, as he resumed kissing my breasts - first one then the other, and I moaned softly. Soon his fingers were stroking my thigh very gently, so tenderly, and before long the hand was sliding upward until the fingertips found their way into the leg of my shorts.

Now his hand was half way up the inside leg of my shorts, his inquisitive fingers feeling for the damp gusset of my panties, stroking and rubbing my wet little snatch through the moist material, and I couldn't help but moan with pleasure. My hips began to move, lifting my bottom up and down in time with the stroking, in an involuntary effort to enhance the sensation, and his lips closed on my nipple again, sucking and licking at it, but now more urgently.

I lay back across his lap and the arm of the easy chair,, stretching my arms high above my head and parting my legs, gasping and panting as he suckled on my tiny breast and masturbated me.

"Oh yes. Oh yes," I moaned, all but lost to him.

It was driving me crazy - I had to do something to escape the moment.

"What

is

that?" I asked.

"What is what?"

"That thing in your pocket," I replied, reaching behind me. "It's sticking in my bottom," I told him.

"Oh. That's my special girl treat," he grinned.

"What's a special girl treat?" I asked.

"Have you never seen a man's thing before?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" I replied, playing along.

"You were asking earlier about the lump in my pants," he smiled.

"Oh. Yes. What is it?"

"Would you like to see?" he asked.

"Can I?" I replied, sounding excited.

"Sure," he smiled. "As long as you promise not to tell anyone I showed you," he added.

"Oh, I would never tell," I assured him.

"You promise?" he asked.

"Cross my heart and hope to die if I lie," I told him.

"OK. Here goes then," he said, standing up.

He lifted me in his arms with him, depositing me on the floor with my back to the side of the bed, taking his place in front of me. He then proceeded to unfasten his pants, pushing them away to reveal an enormous bulge in his underpants.

"Ready?" he asked.

I just stared at the bulge, and nodded, my eyes wide with anticipation.

He gripped the waistband and slowly pushed it down, until a thick black bush of pubic hair became visible, then the base of his shaft, covered with dark hair.

I let him see the cringing look on my face as more and more of the thing became visible, until at last the dark, swollen end sprang out, and it popped up like a Jack-In-The-Box.

"Oh! My goodness!" I exclaimed, raising my hand to my mouth in pretend shock.

"Would you like to hold it?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," I replied, looking apprehensive.

"It's OK," he smiled. "It won't hurt." I hesitated, then giggled. "Just take it," he encouraged.

"OK," I smiled, reaching forward to touch the end with my fingertips.

"Not like that honey," he said. "Wrap your hand around it," he encouraged. I did as I was told.

"Oh!" I exclaimed with some surprise. "It feels so warm, and it's soft on the outside, but it feels really hard inside," I smiled up at him.

"Now you can kiss it if you like," he said.

"I don't think I should," I told him.

"It's OK," he smiled. "I had a shower just a couple of hours ago, so it should be nice and clean."

I leaned forward and he gripped my head gently, stroking my pigtails while guiding me toward it.

"Open your mouth," he instructed.

I did as I was told, and he pulled me forward, moving his hips around as he guided the tip into my mouth.

"Ahh yes," he moaned softly. "Oh yes. That feels good," he told me. "Now... take it in your hand and squeeze it tightly," he said.

"Won't it hurt?" I asked.

"No honey. Just do it. I'll stop you if it hurts."

I squeezed it in my hand, taking the tip in my mouth and licking the end as I sucked on it, moving my hand slowly up and down along the length.

"Oh baby. That feels so good," he groaned.

"I'm not a baby!" I objected.

"Oh no. I know you're not. It's just an expression," he told me. "People say that when they really like someone."

"Oh. OK," I smiled brightly. "Shall I do it again then?" I asked.

"Oh yes baby. Yes please."

I did as he wanted for a few minutes, until he suddenly gripped my head and pushed me away, stopping me.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I don't want to waste it," he told me.

"Waste what?" I asked.

"Nothing," he replied, mysteriously, "but I'd like to see yours now," he told me.

"What?"

"It's only fair," he reasoned. "I showed you mine, so now you should show me yours," he smiled.

"But... I haven't got one of those," I told him.

"Oh," he replied, looking disappointed. "Well... show me what you

do

have then," he said.

"I don't have

anything

there," I told him.

"Really?" he exclaimed, sounding surprised. "Show me," he asked again.

"I shouldn't," I replied.

"If there's nothing there, then it doesn't matter, does it?" he countered, dropping to his knees and reaching for my shorts.

'It seemed a reasonable argument', I thought as he unfastened my shorts and let them fall to the floor, revealing my brief, pink cotton panties with a tell-tale damp patch in the gusset.

"Oh," he mused, "Can I see it properly?" he asked. But this time he didn't wait for my reply. Instead he just slowly pulled my panties down to my knees, staring intently as he revealed the

vee

of tender flesh where my legs joined my torso.

"Oh my goodness," he exclaimed. "It's true. There's nothing there at all," he smiled.

He just stared at my pale, creamy coloured camel-toe, with the tiny nub of my clitoris just visible at the top.

I always make a point of washing myself properly, usually twice a day to keep myself fresh, and I'm always clean shaven there, so to him I must have looked just like a child.