Short story: Nude beach.

DOS

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The first indication was that my nipples simultaneously got very hard. The sensation was powerful, urgent, and I glanced down to see that they were erect. Not only that, they continued to swell, the surrounding aereole scrunching up, forcing the nipples outward. And it felt like they were just going to keep pressing outward. It was as though there were something about the size of a peanut inside each of them, straining hard to grow outward. I rubbed and pinched them a bit, and the resultant feeling almost made me groan a bit with relief combined with a desperate need to rub them more. They were unusually sensitive.

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We'd realized we were getting extremely cold after our extended swim and play, and headed back shoreward. I had a bit of a semi and didn't bother to hide it walking up to our spot; there was no-one within about fifty yards, anyway.
We dried off and sat on the warm sand - it was almost too warm - and the sun started to restore normal temperature to out bodies. The glow felt like it was getting right into my body and even into my soul, further brightening my mood, and my semi swelled into a normal full erection. At the time I thought it might be the drug. It ached, pleasantly, probably due to the unnaccustomed recent workout it had, but didn't really feel unusual apart from that. It certainly didn't look perceptibly larger than normal. That didn't bother me. It felt great. Everything felt great.

We chugged down a coffee, and I rolled some cigarettes and we started smoking, enjoying the feel of the fresh tobacco more than usual. (Being high tends to have that effect on me.) Groups of people wandered past, finding spots to settle in the sun. Couples, singles, groups of friends, and families. Some of them stripped to bathing togs, and some stripped completely. The environment was very relaxed, and we chatted about all sorts of stuff; likes and dislikes - music, food, and even politics - dribs and drabs of personal history, as the stimuli for each drib or drab were encountered, observations on the place we found ourselves in, especially those that were induced by the drug. Wendy made a few notes in the notebook concerning the more salient of these, and commented that a lot of what I was perceiving was similar to what Jo had indicated as a result of her experience. Wendy's own experience had been nowhere near as intense, but she had felt some effect, like a much-diluted version of what I was feeling, and anticipated the part of the trial where she got to try it at full strength. The single drop she'd tried hadn't been part of the plan; she'd been simply curious, and although Jo kind-of rebuked her for it, her heart wasn't really in the admonishment: she understood completely. She'd also requested that Wendy stick to the plan, if she could. Depending on the results I experienced, it was to be Wendys turn in about ten days. I looked forward to that. I also said that it would be best if we could both do it together come that time. It's more fun being high with a friend.

We continued to chat. I was curious about what she'd seen in me that attracted her. Was it simply the effect of the drug, or what? I had this sort of curiosity but didn't voice it as directly as that - not wanting to risk wrecking the mood, but I was at a loss to understand it. Younger women, who are highly attractive, don't normally look on yours-truly as a potential sex partner, as I mentioned earlier. It was like abruptly having been transported to another life. A better life. I wanted this to continue.

Turns out she'd been informally engaged for over five years, to a Chinese guy who was the son of an acquaintance of her father.
"What, like an arranged marriage?" I asked, a little incredulous.
"Not...arranged. More 'set up', I guess. We were introduced when I was sixteen, and sort-of encouraged from then on."
"Do arranged, or 'set-up' relationships happen much in the Chinese community?"
"It still goes on, but not much. I don't really know all of the goings-on in the community, of course. I grew up as much Western as Eastern. I think it happens a lot more in the Indian community, and probably in mainland China. But I never felt that I didn't have a choice in the matter; it was more that I maintained the relationship for longer than I wanted to, because I knew it would disappoint my parents to break it. In the end, my need to get out outweighed that concern. I should have broken it up long before."

Turns out her suitor was bit of a control-freak, with a strong sense of entitlement, probably deriving from being the only child of a well-off family. He also had very strong views on what constituted the make-up of the ideal woman. Over time these views started to emerge, scantilly at first, then more frequently, and strongly expressed.

"He'd always had a problem with my feet. They aren't all narrow and pointed and tapered like a Chinese girls' feet 'should' be. That was just one of the areas he criticized me about. The others included my liberal Western attitude, my friends, my choice of study, and other mental, emotional, and physical 'aberrations', as he put it. When it first started it came across as more as a joke, than a criticism, but over time it was repeated. His discerning observations started to carry an element about them that was a bit scathing. I didn't really take it in, or at least, I didn't think I was taking it in. But when you're the target of these sorts of observations over a long time, it starts to have an affect, although I didn't realize that was what was happening. I started to gradually think of my feet as unpleasant, and, I guess by extension, the rest of me, also. I even started to think of ways to try and alter them, and then sanity crashed in, because a close friend had seen what was going on and gave me a piece of her mind. I broke up with him the next week. Bastard!" She paused a bit, then looked at me, "I was expecting him to apologize, or ask why, or even a tantrum. That would have fitted. But he just seemed to lose interest in me, immediately, like there was no investment there at all, and he was already moving on to whatever the next 'thing' was going to be." She shook her head. "As I said, should have done it long before. Anyway, for one thing, in part-answer to your question, when you started to kiss my feet the other day, that had quite a powerful effect on me. Maybe you can see why."

"Your feet are gorgeous." I looked straight at her, and repeated it, then added "Just like the rest of you. The man was mad. Honestly, you could be in a relationship with pretty much anyone you wanted."

We carried on chatting like this, and it was then, maybe a half an hour after leaving the water, that my nipples suddenly popped.

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Wendy noticed the slight moan I'd made, and asked what was happening, and I told her. She quickly made an entry in the notebook, then looked more closely at my nipples, and started to gently caress the right one with her fingers. This felt unusually good, verging on painful, but not quite. Each time she brushed a finger over the tip, the underlying muscle tensed abruptly a bit, for a few seconds. She seemed to find this very amusing. My cock got a little harder. Then she started to lick it. The feeling intensified. In such a situation there's only one reasonable response, of course, so I reached around her head and started to caress one of her nipples, too. This went on for a couple of minutes, and then she let out a bit of a husky moan, and said "Oh my god. I'm horny again."

Although I was hard, it was the kind of hardness that feels good, rather than the kind that demands attention. I didn't feel a strong need for sex again, but definitely felt the interest. Who wouldn't? This time we decided to retreat to the bushes above the small dune behind us, as there were a few more people around. We just grabbed our towels and went. About two minutes along the track behind the beach there was a small side-track that branched up hill and into an area of lupin shrubs, and a little to one side from that track a nicely secluded spot surrounded by shrubs, with a nice soft grassy surface. It was toward this area I led Wendy. The scent from the shrubs and other nearby plants was heady, sweet. Visually, everything looked more vivid and colorful than ever, like a good TV with the contrast turned up high, but without the eye strain such a setting tends to induce. The scent, the fresh air, the visual appeal of the scene and the circumstance sort of flashed into my mind as though it had just taken a photo of the experience, and the mad cheeping of the cicadas echoed pleasantly in my ears. My nipples were pressed so hard against my skin that it felt like they were the pathfinders, leading my impatiently forward to...wherever. And as we separated a couple of lupins and entered the tiny clearing, I suddenly felt a warm glow deep in the root of my penis. Maybe the prostate area. It was very warm, and pulsed, and as I noticed the detail of it, the pulsing warmth started to intensify with each throbbing heartbeat, and spread up the body of my cock right to the glans, which swelled and throbbed, suddenly hot.

I thought I'd been hard before. That was nothing compared to the raging stiffness I now experienced. Waves of warmth radiated up my penis, reached to the end, and seemed to bounce back, intensifying themselves in an endless loop of sensation. My penis pressed outward and upward, straining hard, and kept straining. I thought it was going to start growing right there and then. I have never felt so horny in my life. Wendy noticed the exaggerated stiffness as we sat down on the soft grass, and her eyes widened a bit.

"That's the drug effect kicking in?"

"I'm pretty sure it is. I've never felt anything like it. It's almost overpowering."

Our lovemaking was boisterous and intense. Despite my having been recently and comprehensively drained over the prior two days, I was surprised that it didn't seem to take that long for me to orgasm, probably because I was so intensely horny. But time was pretty meaningless. It could have taken three minutes, or twenty. I really didn't know. Once again the build-up was slow and kept intensifying for a long time as my thrusting became faster. Wendy started to make a high pitched growling and gasping and started to come, violently, a second before I did, her pulsing orgasm tipping me over the edge, and when I came it felt almost like the recoil from an automatic firearm. Lights of every colour flashed through my brain, in a snapshot, and I was consumed by the sensations. A thunderstorm could have started right then, and neither of us would have noticed. Then we just lay there for a bit, panting and giggling, feeling our sweat cooling, re-engaging with the world around us.

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