Part 1

We’re keen sailors and prefer to sail in late summer, early fall. It’s low season in Scandinavia, still warm, not much traffic neither on the water nor in the marinas, which are mostly cheap.
We left early in the morning and set sail to an island with a long white beach at its east coast. The wind was unusually warm like someone had turned on a colossal hairdryer. I wore a bikini and a long top when we cast off, at ten o’clock was no difference between man and woman, Paul and I were dressed in swim trunks only. At noon local sailors and holidaymakers passed by. The best helmsman on board is the autopilot, yet I switched it off and sailed the yacht myself for the pleasure of Paul and other crews within sight. Paul speculated how many of these guys would love to come over and suck my tits. I thought his focus on tits too narrow and dropped the pants as well.
I love sailing naked. Today, in the warmth, with the wind playing on my skin, boobs, and pussy, I felt like caressed all day long. Late afternoon we made it to an almost empty marina. Adequately dressed in a bikini and top again, we moored the yacht. I could have been naked since nobody was around, but Paul didn’t express a wish in the direction and focused his doings on two delicious cocktails instead. The scenery of the marina and the nearby long beach looked pretty with its golden sand and lovely dunes.
The sea was warm, and the opportunity to swim a few laps was too good to miss it. Paul was exhausted, got too much sun, luckily he wasn’t sunburned. He encouraged me to go ahead while he would like to take a nap and join me later. So I grabbed a bag, a towel, sandals and left.

We’re familiar with this stretch of seaside and know the best spots where to go to. I entered the beach, took off the sandals, and enjoyed the warmth of the sand under the feet. The sun’s red disc was about to touch the horizon in the next hour, yet the sky was already marvelous illuminated.
An alcoholic drink before, a perfect sailing day, the warmth, in short, I was high-spirited. A quick look around. Half a dozen joggers or so ran along the beach. Mostly guys, one woman only. She wore a tight black bustier to keep her big tits in check. Yet they bounced happily up and down, a joy to look at. But no one paid any attention to her. All the better, I thought.
Two elderly guys stood naked in the water in front of the furthest sandbank enjoying the waves rolling in. Naked on this particular beach is almost normal. I stopped and pulled off the bikini top. The bikini was a gift from Paul with two outstanding features: it turns transparent when wet and can be stored behind a postcard stamp. Free of their ‘big cotton prison,’ my breasts bounced and swung happily. I ran my free hand over one, enjoyed the fullness and weight, and lowered the head to suck a nipple. Girls in porn movies perform this all the time, and hence I sucked the nipples to live. Erected, they pointed slightly up to the sun. Great! Nothing feels better to me than taking off my bra and get long erected nipples. Well, some things are better, but this is a pretty close second. Just in case you’re analyzing me, there’s no point in sucking my tits on the beach for no reason, that’s true. Except for one little detail, I enjoy it!
I turned to the naked men and toyed with the idea to join them, curious how quick and hard their dicks will get. I would lie if I was to say Paul’s fantasy watching me getting fucked by a stranger, especially at the beach, didn’t affect me. To be honest, it was my first wild fantasy as a teenager, naked on the beach, fucking every Adonis I liked. In bed, I masturbated as often as I hoped to be fucked by others. A pornographic fantasy that I always kept very deep in my secret dreams. And yet, very faintly, I hoped to be able to live the dream one day. Then Paul came into my life, and nothing was secret anymore.
Enough thinking. I dropped the bag, run briskly in the water, dived and swam to the sandbank right between the guys. The coolness of the water fired up my horniness as I experienced it the first time as a teenage girl. The breasts got pretty firm, the pussy lips contracted. I stepped out of the water, a brief look at the guy’s point of my interest. Slightly erected cocks, probably because of the coolness of the water on the skin in the wind. I know my effect on guys very well, bend deeply forward, raised the upper body vividly upwards, and made the hair and tits flying. Being wet, it’s the best way to get attention.