Sand dune


The sandy shoreline stretches out in front of us, the waves on our right, the big sand dune rising above us, on my left. It's low tide, we are walking in the slight depression that the waves have scoured, so the dune, already an impressive size, seems even bigger, the crest of it high above our heads. I like the dune, it hides the view of the city beyond it... you could be a thousand miles from civilisation, not just a few hundred yards from home. Down by the beach, it's all sand, but the middle of the dune is dotted with marram grass and scrubby bushes, the top has short trees that have established themselves, despite the salt that the wind blows on to the shore. It's a testament to their hardiness.

The beach is nearly empty, the nearest people that I can see are hundreds of yards away. I don't like it when it's crowded, like on the weekends, it'll be covered in a seething horde of people. To much noise, too many people, for my liking. I prefer solitude more than most.
So now's a good time to be walking on the beach... it's mid afternoon... it's quiet, and as empty as it gets, on a weekday.

I take my wife's hand into mine, and we lean in until our shoulders touch, walking together, all by ourselves.
I glance at her and smile, then look away, thinking about what to say... do... next.
But when I look back again, I catch sight of a figure, standing 30 yards away, where there had been only an empty space a few seconds ago. I my focus swaps from my wife, to the figure and I scrutinise... her.

A girl, young... wearing a tartan skirt and green jersey... the uniform of the local high school... wearing what the seniors get to wear, making her 16 or 17, maybe even 18 years old. Not so young that I have to look away immediately... besides, she's not even aware that I'm there, so I let myself appraise her, liking how young women look, liking what I'm seeing.

She's young, her skin smooth and youthful. She's a brunette, her hair is in a ponytail.
If she'd had been level with me, her skirt would have covered most of her thighs, the hem of it is cut a few inches above her knees... but she's up on the dune, up above me and I can see further, higher... I can see a lot more than she or her mother ever intended. I can see the part of her thighs, extending under her skirt, that would normally be hidden, in the shadow, but I can see the afternoon sun light shining against the back of her skirt, some of the the light illuminating the back of her legs and upper thighs. I see the curves, see where they joined to the fleshy part of her butt... I see her pink undies.

There's not a lot that I can't see, or imagine, from my vantage point... it's better than looking up and down the beach, that's for sure. My cock starts to responds to what I'm seeing and the interest that I'm feeling, for the girl.

But there's more to this girl than nice thighs and a great arse... my glance is drawn upwards. At first, I thought that she had the type of tit's that strained to be free all the time, surging up and out, with every move. But then I realised that the girl's jersey and blouse were untacked and that she her hands up underneath them. She was adjusting herself trying to get her breasts back into her bra. Her midriff was exposed, I could see her flat belly and a hint of her breasts... appearing and disappearing around arms and elbows. One by one they settled into place, no longer enormous, just a nicely shaped handful. The girl pulled her hands back out of her blouse and started to tug the displaced clothing back down to cover her navel again, tidying herself up. I was disappointed that the free show was over.

More hands appeared out of nowhere, someone else was up there, with her. Whoever it was was down on the sand, out of sight from anyone down on the beach. The hands started to tug on her skirt, trying to either pull it down or draw her out of sight. The girl doesn't move, but her skirt does... one side slips past her hips... only an inch or two, but now I can see the side of her undies and part of the front... the skirt grips the undies and it slips downwards too, angled provocatively down one leg... I can see hip and thigh, I think I can see some pubic hair... I see a lot... I want to see it all. But before her skirt and panties are peeled down lower, she grabs at her skirt, with one hand, to stop them going further. She yanks everything back up, using the other hand to fend off the hand's that would have her unclothed her.
I involuntarily lick my lips, tasting sea salt, wishing it was me up there, with her. My body's craving hers. I feel alive, all to aware of the growing erection in my pants, pushing outwards, trying to escape.

Thwarted, a boy rose up beside her, taking her into his hands, drawing her to him. She grabbed at his jersey and pulled him in close, kissing him hard. They mash their lips together, tonguing each other, reacting to each other... oblivious to anything else around them. It was getting wild and passionate up there...I wished I was the boy, getting hold of a hot girl like that... if I was up on the dune, with that girl, I'd be doing exactly the same thing. I wish I was her age... I'd show her a thing or two, I'd give her a good time... if I was her age.
Even though I wasn't, the thought of what I would do was in me.
I wanted to strip her... I wanted to see her naked... I wanted to taste her body, touch her body, I wanted to take her down and slip myself up inside her, use her georgous body to please myself. I wanted to please her too. I wanted to come inside that fantastic girl, up on the dune.

But I'm too old for that girl... and my wife is with me... she's noticed where my attention is and she's been watching me, watching them.
"Come on!" she tells me... and takes me away from the temptation of the girl, on the dune. I think I'm in trouble, but my wife leads me to her favourite spot... up in the marram grass and the straggly tree's. Safely hidden from view... she gets me to do to her, what the boy was doing to the girl, up on the dune.

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