Some years ago, in a particularly dry season for my sex life, I kept my eyes open in dark corners of the internet to see what was out there. Man, some people post some really risky stuff out there! I read those mostly for entertainment. Mostly.
There was a guy who used to post a lot in an area near me. He invited people to masturbate with him in his car at the beach early in the mornings. I thought that was pretty ballsy and kept scrolling.
But they say repeated exposure normalizes things, and I started to wonder what this guy’s rise and shine routine was like in practice. You probably see where this is going… one day, curiosity got the best of me.
I set my alarm and went to the beach, dressed in sports clothing. I went for a light jog. There were many places he could be parked, and I didn’t really know what to expect. Because it was so early, there were few cars, but I had no idea of how to find him. I had not reached out for more details. I jogged slowly a couple of times and found a handful of cars with single men inside, but nothing that would give him away. I gave up that day.
I tried this routine a couple more times, some weeks later. His posts continued. The second time, I was again unsuccessful. But we both got luckier on my third try.
It was a warm morning, so I wore a sports bra and biking shorts. I quickly spotted a car that was parked far from the few others, and I figured I would start my search there. From a distance I could tell it was him. I mustered all my self confidence and I jogged up to his window. He looked startled.
“Hi, are you the guy that’s been posting about beach mornings?”
I think he didn’t quite know what to make of me. Was I out to get him? I had not reached out to him before. Was he looking for gay encounters? In any case, the ship had sailed and I was there already.
“Can I come into your car?”
He unlocked and I hopped into the passenger side. I told him I had never done this, so he’d have to tell me if someone got near us.
I immediately wrapped my hand around his hard cock, both quickly examining (safety first) and remembering how long I had been craving one in this dry spell. I think he was in shock that a young woman had shown up. He was much older than me, a man in his fifties, but fairly good looking and in fair shape.
“Have many people taken you up on your rise and shine offer?”
“I never thought anyone was reading me,” he confessed.
I was afraid that company would arrive soon, so I just went for it. I leaned over and took his cock in my mouth and I started working it the way I know will lead to copious amounts of sperm inside me. His hands rested on top of my head and he grunted and cursed, enjoying the entertainment.
Maybe he had completed his rise and shine routine before I arrived, but I had to work hard for his cum. Most of the time, I harvest in a couple of minutes. With him, it probably took closer to ten. I took my time figuring out the angles that worked for him, letting him hit the insides of my cheek, the surface of my tongue and the back of my mouth repeatedly, seeing which ones would earn grunts of approval.
My hands cupped his balls, held him firm inside me, stroked at times when my jaw needed a break. Between his precum and my spit, there was plenty of lubrication for my occasional handjobs.
I tried all the stimulation techniques in the book. The sucking motion, the bobbing up and down, the swirling tongue under his flesh. He liked all of it. But his hands gently pushed down on my head, hinting at what he really wanted. I was happy to oblige.
I moved in to take him as deep as I could. Oh, his moan when he felt the very back of my mouth is unforgettable. His hands got lost in my hair, barely able to restrain themselves from pushing me farther down his cock. Now that we had found it, it was time to double down. I withdrew from him one last time, teary eyed from the effort in my throat, and looked at him.
“I want you to cum down my throat, daddy.”
And that’s what he did. His hands helped me take as much of his cock as I could, and I could feel him tense up among my moans, my gags and my firm strokes around his flesh. His hips began to buck as he panted, “Oh my god, I’m so close.”
He held me down when his first spurt hit my throat. I gagged around it, but I was a good girl and pushed through it until he let me up. I took the last spurt on my tongue. I sat up and showed him my bounty.
I hope beach daddy has found more playmates for his rise and shine ritual, but I won’t be mad about it if he’s still there thinking of my throat when he strokes on his own.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/yptmqx/the_day_i_deepthroated_an_older_guy_at_a_beach