I come to this spot often to draw, usually late in the day. Other beaches nearby are more popular, with powdery sand that’s trucked in and groomed daily to remove seaweed and litter. This rocky beach is covered with seaweed at low tide, as well as the flotsam and jetsam that nobody picks up. As a result, it’s less crowded. My favorite spot has a clear view of the ocean and beach, yet is in the shade of a tree. Occasionally a hiker or lovers stroll by, but for the most part it’s mine alone.

As I sit, enjoying the cooling breeze in the shadows, a man walks up and throws his backpack down on a granite outcropping. He removes his socks and shoes, then strips his shirt and begins stretching, facing the sea. His broad shoulders and muscular back ripple as he grabs one ankle at a time and stretches out his quads while balancing on one foot. He is tall, with dark hair. Instinctively I quietly flip to a fresh page in my sketch book and begin drawing his back. He stretches his muscular body for five minutes or more, giving me time to draw several sections of his back and legs. Then suddenly, he strips his shorts and walks toward the sea, naked.

As he reaches chest high water, he begins swimming, strong powerful strokes that propel him quickly through the water. He’s soon out of my sight, occasionally bobbing up into view, only to dip out of sight again. After fifteen minutes, I begin to worry. “Where are you?” I wonder to myself. I’m terrified of being out at sea over my head, and now I’m terrified for this stranger. After twenty five minutes, I’m thinking I should call somebody or something. My heart pounds as I scan the horizon. I constantly check my watch; it’s been thirty minutes. I definitely should call someone. Finally, I think I can just make out something, far out to sea. I lose it again. As he approaches the shore, I can see that it’s him, and I release the tension in my body.

He walks up to the shore, his chest heaving as he pants, trying to catch his breath. I look down at his patch of pubic hair and am drawn to his penis, which is quite small. I’m not more than forty feet from him, yet he hasn’t seen me in the shadows. I should leave, or make a noise to let him know he’s not alone. Every moment I sit quietly, staring at him, will make it more awkward when he does spot me. His sac is shriveled by the exposure to the cool water. The skin has contracted and has ridges on it. His penis is likewise shriveled; it looks somehow unusual. I haven’t had that much experience with men, but I suddenly realize it’s the first uncircumcised cock I’ve seen. It looks not unlike a small elephant trunk, with a hole in the middle of the end where the head has retracted.

He pulls a towel out of his backpack and uses it to dry, then begins stretching again. This time he’s not facing away from me. I begin sketching his body. I quickly sketch his abs and groin area, then his broad chest as he continues to stretch. Finally he stops and takes a bottle of water from his backpack, drinking it in three swigs. He lays down on the rock outcropping with the towel rolled up under his head. The giant outcropping, worn perfectly smooth by the tide over the centuries, is warmed by the sun. He closes his eyes to the glare of the sun and lays motionless. I continue sketching his beautiful body. As he warms, his sac loosens and his penis becomes larger. My heart races with the fear of being seen by him, or by newcomers to the beach, while intruding on his privacy.

Finally he gets up, dresses and leaves. My sketch book is filled with drawings of this beautiful man with the fabulous body. My racing heart finally begins to calm, and I notice I’ve been sweating, and my pussy is moist with arousal. I sit for a while, regaining my composure, then I pack up and leave. I don’t think I’ve ever been so aroused without being touched.

I take a warm shower, lathering up my pussy and washing it off with the jets of my hand held shower head. I dry off, wrapping a towel around my hair, and take my vibrator and some lubricant from my nightstand to my bed. Closing my eyes, the stranger catches me drawing him and rips the pad out of my hands, tossing it aside. I lubricate the vibrator and switch it on. The stranger takes my hand and helps me up. He practically rips my clothes in his excitement as he peels them off. He presses his lips to mine and holds my naked body close to his. I feel like a child in the arms of this tall, powerful man. He spreads a blanket on the sand and lays me down on it. I spread my legs to accept him, and he mounts me. He struggles to contain his excitement, forcing himself to gently work his large dick into me. As his penis begins to slide smoothly, he begins to drive it deeper and harder into me. I put my feet flat on the ground and raise my hips to meet his powerful thrusts. We thrust together, back and forth, striving for deeper penetration. Our lips are pressed together and I explore his tongue with mine.

I shudder in orgasm as he sprays his warm, thick sperm in me. The powerful orgasm sends wave of pleasure throughout my body.

My heart races and I pant, my eyes still closed. As I calm, I draw the sheet over me and lay quietly for a while.

Over the next two weeks, I went to my spot at the same time every day, hoping to see the stranger again. The next day, he wasn’t there, and I was afraid he was gone forever. After all, I’d not seen him before, so he must be a tourist to this area. But the following day, and many times thereafter, he was back, and he went through the same procedure.

My sketchbooks are filled with pictures of him. In my favorite, he is facing away from me, his legs spread, bending over to touch the ground as he stretches his hamstrings. I drew him from his narrow waist to his knees. You can just see the bottom of his scrotum between his legs, and just below that the tip of his dick. This drawing, and most others I’ve done of him lately, are so obscenely erotic that even I know they can’t be considered anything other than pornography, but I stare at them often. I touch myself while looking at them, remembering the excitement as I drew them.

Today, as I sit watching the sea, my sketchbook in my lap, I feel the presence of something behind me. I know it’s him without looking. I clutch my sketchbook to my body with both arms. He reaches down and gently pulls it with one hand. I release it, and stand facing him. As he flips through the pages, he nods his approval and smiles. I look down at the ground in my embarrassment. My face and ears blush bright red, so red my ears are burning. He puts his hand under my chin and lifts my face until our eyes meet. His eyes bore deeply into me. His beautiful smile softens his lovely face, but his eyes are the most intense I’ve ever seen. He takes my hand and leads me to the rock. He pulls his towel out of his pack and rolls it up, placing it on the rock.

He holds my face and begins kissing me tenderly. “Oooh, God, he feels so good. He smells wonderful. How can you be so beautiful and perfect?” My knees are quivering and my heart races. He breaks our embrace and begins to peel off his clothing.

“What are you doing," I think. "I can’t just fuck you. I don’t even know your name. And I certainly won’t take off my clothes here! Anybody could walk by, people that I know and have to live with. News of this kind would be all over town within a day.”

Without a word, he helps me out of my sundress. His eyes are all over my body. “Those eyes. Those beautiful dark eyes, that see right into my soul and understand my deepest desires.” He worships my body with his eyes, and his dick is growing. The foreskin recedes as his dick lengthens, and I can see the tip of the head now. He helps me out of my panties and I stand nude before him. He sees me staring at his dick, and he places my hand on it. It’s long and thick. I feel the foreskin; it feels bumpy, as the skin has ridges, and it glides easily over the head. As I move the foreskin back and forth over the head, he groans and his eyelids flutter. He stops me before I go too far. He lays me on my back, and I use his towel as a pillow. He stares down at me, adoring my body. His dick is stiff now, and the head is almost completely extended.

I can sense the lust in this animal. I fear being caught by passersby. I fear being taken by this powerful stranger. But I know that he will take me, and that nothing will stop that. I tremble slightly, as he kneels and approaches the altar. He raises my butt, lifting my pussy to his face, and begins licking my slit. He licks up and down the entire length of it, gradually getting deeper and deeper until he reaches my opening. He pushes his tongue deep into my opening, reaming it out. He then laps up my slit while holding his thumb in my pussy. He is bombarding my clit with his tongue, gently sucking it into his mouth, then flicking it over and over again. He raises my butt higher and continues to relentlessly flick my bud. Never changing his rhythm or speed, he continues licking it until my body starts shaking, and I realize that he’s going to make me cum.

“Unggghh,” I cry, as a powerful warmth emanates from my pussy, filling my mind and my body with pleasure.

I’m limp, still reveling in the aftershocks of my climax when he turns me onto my hands and knees on the soft sand under the blanket and enters me from behind. In this position he can penetrate me fully. He gradually works his large dick in. The foreskin makes his dick feel like it has an extra, ribbed pleasure device. It feels strange as the head slides in and out of the foreskin. I’ve often wondered about the difference, and now I know. The uncircumcised penis glides more easily in and out of me. How far can he go? He grasps my hips and pulls me to him, trying to drive his dick even deeper. Suddenly he tenses, then begins bucking wildly as he deposits his cum deep inside me.

He gives me his towel to clean up with. I quickly gather my clothes, fearful of being caught. By the time I’m dressed, he’s gone, without us ever uttering a word to each other. At least I still have my drawings, and his towel, to remember him by.