Straight British Amateur Men with Uncut Cocks
Established 2003

Rich and I were at Uni together. We knew each other, but we weren’t really close mates. He always had a good looking girl with him down at the pub or whatever. Can’t blame them. Rich has got it. Great build, sexy grin, lots of laughs.

After Uni, we both headed off to travel for a year, then ended up back in London. By chance we ended up working at the same restaurant. Dishing out ribs and burgers. It paid the rent, and we ended up getting to know each other some, hanging around together a bit, having a laugh, talking about the waitresses and any hot looking girls. Rich was always the first to spot one. “Check out the rack on table 23,” he’d say out of the side of his mouth as we passed each other through the swinging door to the kitchen. “Wouldn’t mind putting some barbeque sauce on those ribs,” he’d add with a grin and a pull at his crotch.

Anyway, last Monday, turns out we both had the next day off. “Hey,” Rich said to me as we got to the end of our shift, “supposed to be sunny tomorrow. First fuckin’ day we get a day off and a chance to get some sun. How ‘bout you and me get some beers and head down to beach?” Sounded good to me. I wasn’t up to much one way or the other.

Fucking magnificent day for once. Not a cloud as we got off the train and took the bus down to the beach. Not half term, so no families or much of anyone about. 11am we popped our first beers and kicked the ball around.

I had to admire Rich’s build as we messed around together. Me, I’m taller, but slim. Rich is built good. Guess it is the rugby.

Hit the water a few times. Shit it was cold that early in the year, but we were both hot from running around. “Fuck, my balls is gonna drop off,” Rich complained as we jumped in the third time.

“Yeah, this cold, makes all guys the same,” I laughed. “My dick’s smaller than when I was five!”

By late afternoon, when we gotten through quite a few beers each, I noticed Rich looking over at me with a funny expression. “Lets get out of these wet suits and get dry. Come on, race you to the dunes,” he said, grabbing his towel and pack. With all the beers neither of us was real steady by then.

If Rich is got the build, with my long legs and cross country experience I’ve got some speed. I passed him halfway there. Should have known the fucker was competitive. Soon as I passed him, he tackled me from behind, coming down on me hard.

“Fuck it, Rich, now I got sand everywhere,” I complained.

“Tough,” he laughed. “Here, I’ll keep you out of the sand,” he added, and easy as anything, picked me up in a fireman’s hold and swung me onto his shoulders.

“Fuckin’ put me down,” I responded.

“Gotta’ keep you out the sand, mate,” Rich said and began to trudge up to the dunes, me over his shoulders. What the hell.

Quiet in the dunes, sun still out, beer buzz, as we both stripped and got our shorts out of the bag. “Nice one you got there,” Rich said to me with a wink as we hopped from foot to foot. He was looking at my dick. “What do you say, mate, you sparky? What do you say?”

I sort of stood there, naked, and I guess my jaw dropped. Was Rich, the stud with the string of girl friends as long as his cock, suggesting what I thought we was suggesting?

In a flash Rich was on his knees and stuffing my dick down his throat. “Fuck, guy, what you doing that for?” I asked, gasping and trying to pull him off of my meat.

“Hell, just fooling around,” he replied with a big grin. “Knew I was horny. Figured you was, too. Just some fun.”

I had to say that his lips around my cockhead felt great, and my dick responded. Soon I had a stiffie, and Rich stuffed the stiffie down his gullet. Same time, he was stroking his own thick tool.

My head was spinning from all the beers, and now from the feeling racing up from my crotch to the top of my head. “Fuck it, mate, you’re gonna get your tonsils whitewashed real soon, you keep that up,” I groaned as Rich bobbed up and down on my hard on. He just looked up at me standing over him, a wicked gleam in his eye, and kept on working it.

Well, I had warned him. My nuts switched to firing mode. I was shooting. Rich’s fist was pumping his dick like a maniac as he drank my load, and then he was shooting in the sand, great globs of ball lube glistening in the sun.

Rich just grinned at me as we climbed into our pants. Same brand. “Feel better, mate?” he asked. “I sure needed that,” he added. “Here, I’ll give you a lift back to the towels,” he said, picking me up again and trudging back across the beach. Damn, what a day!

©Chuck Dixon 2013