“Yes,” I said. He stood up, picked up a towel, turned and headed for the rocks. I grabbed two beers and followed him. He moved faster than I did, and well before I got close to the sandy spot I caught a flash of his naked ass. Then I passed his clothes, strung out along the path like he’d shucked them off running, and when I finally came out of the bushes he was lying on the towel, naked, his cock rigid and straining, still breathing heavily from the exertion of the climb. For a second I stood there looking at him, the way he’d once looked at me. “You look better even thanI imagined,” I said. “You thought about me?” ‘Yes,” I said, looking away. “You sure about this?” he asked. “Yes,” I said. I took another long pull of my beer, put it on the ground. I unbuttoned my shirt and shrugged it off, kicked off my shoes and dropped my pants and shorts. My cock was pointing almost straight up. “Better than I remember,” Steve said. I lay down next to him. We turned and faced each other. He. At some point, I was sure everyones hands were roaming over me. I felt strangely free, drawing pleasure from offering my self up so uninhibitedly. My juices flowing stronger, wetting the folds of my sex. Hands withdrew, and for a moment all action seemed to stop. Again I could hear the rustle of people. With a firm grip, I was rolled up onto my shoulders, pussy and butt in the air, legs bent forward. A mans tongue worked its way into the folds and began licking. Sucking, slurping, devouring my sex. Fingers probed my ass, their touch caused my asshole to pucker, the insertion brought out a cry of delight from me. I lost track of just how many took a turn at licking my sex and how many orgasms I reached. When they finished, I was rolled onto my back, and again my legs were spread open wide. Then my first male partner positioned himself on the bed, between my spread legs. He moved the head of his penis up and down my wet slit, pussy whole to clit, several times, I knew the familiar.
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