DIRT IN THE DUNES - PART 4
I am 32 years old, British/Australian living in London and working as a lawyer.
My authoritarian-themed fantasy series, "Dude's gotta pay his debts", can be found on Nifty here: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/dudes-gotta-pay-his-debts/
This series, "Dirt in the dunes", is about my real gay encounters as a young guy growing up on the beach in Sydney. Check it out here: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/encounters/dirt-in-the-dunes/
It is 2010 and I am between 17 and 19 years of age at the point this chapter is set.
Please remember, the awesome wank bank that is Nifty needs your donations to keep up and running and keep publishing our hot stories. Send something if you can: https://donate.nifty.org/.
As I mentioned in my last chapter, I started university at the end of January 2010. Just to set the scene, I'll give you some deets about my Aussie uni life.
Firstly, barefoot culture is a thing in Australia. If you live near the coast and going about casual daily business outside of work, Aussies are pretty relaxed about wandering around barefoot. Hanging around the house? Barefoot. Popping out to the shops? Barefoot. Beachfront cafe? Barefoot. Pub beer garden? Barefoot. Running across the carpark to McDonalds? Barefoot. And wandering around the university campus, even attending lectures? Barefoot. Its just a thing. It attracts quite a bit of comment from non-Australians; Visitng or immigrating Europeans love it, North Americans think it is weird unless they are from certain parts of California, Hawaii or places like that, and Asians think it is a bit gross in most situations. I'm not saying we are barefoot all the time or in inappropriate settings (though our definition of "inappropriate" is narrow), and not everyone likes doing it; we don't go barefoot into the city centre, on public transport, to nice venues, or to work, or anywhere where the ground is likely to hurt our tootsies. But whenever we can, especially for short jaunts, we often don't bother with shoes, or put on thongs (Aussie for "flipflops") at most. Since moving to the UK where seeing men's bare feet is obviously going to be a lot less common, I've missed it enormously and male feet has kind of become a bit of a fetish for me to be honest.
Secondly, the curse of the Australian academic year running from Janaury to December, and my birthday being in November, was that I'd spend most of my first year being 17 years old and technically unable to drink alcohol. Like many of my peers, I worked around it though! Also, I didn't have a car in my first year of uni, so I cycled or caught the bus to campus. Without the car, and because of my age, my only source of income in my first year (apart from some money my parents gave me for doing household chores), was my pool cleaning circuit, and occasionally accepting cash in exchange for a bit of sex.
Lastly, campus is a cruising hotbed. There are loads of toilet blocks and secluded buildings with low-levels of traffic where people - and lets be honest, it is invariably guys - can have quick hookups. As we all know, guys who consider themselves straight but are open minded or bi-curious will happily accept a blowjob or whatever if they feel horny enough. A bit of relief was really easy to come by. But as a bi guy (and in the closet at that time), much of my social life was spent at uni socials or house parties where, like the straight boys, I'd focus all my energy on trying to pull a girl I might have fancied. There were a couple of girls I ended up having casual "fuck buddy"-type situationships - or even causal relationships - with over the course of the year and on into the rest of my uni life. But I always got a buzz from sex with random guys, with its more casual, sleazier vibe.
Because I was without a car in my first year, I did tend to wear either my Havaianas thongs or my well-worn Converse All Star Lo's, sockless, for the duration of 2010 until I got a car after my 18th birthday in the November. But when I was settled in the library for a few hours' work, they'd get kicked off under the desk and I'd join the barefoot bandits until I was ready to leave.
My first on-campus hookup was actually in the June of 2010, when it was quite wintery and wet but not especially cold, or at least not like Northern Hemisphere folks know cold. I was studying in the library, wearing a hoodie over a tshirt and cargo shorts over a pair of Bonds briefs, with a woollen beanie over my long hair which was tied back in a man-bun. I'd kicked my Converse off under the desk and was barefoot. At one point I got up to find some books and down one of the aisles I spied a hot dude, maybe a couple of years older than me. He was taller than me, with a nice physique, long wavy dark brown hair which reached his shoulders and hung loose, and a bit of dark scruff on his jaw. He was wearing ripped skinny jeans with his bare feet sticking out of the bottom, and a surfie vest that let me glimpse his slightly hairy chest and armpit bushes. It was actually quite warm in the library so I was glad he'd taken off whatever else he'd had on his top half, and I tried to be as unobtrusive as possible as I made a couple of passes past the aisle and glanced at him repeatedly.
Back at my desk with the books I'd found, I took off my own hoodie so I just had a tee on my upper bod, and I kept my beanie on. I looked up to see the hot dude wander past, just as he was looking over at me. He glanced away, but as he walked on, peered back over his shoulder. I allowed myself a little smile; I think he caught it.
The library was quiet; with no real intention other than to perve at him a little more and see what happened, I got up and followed him. I came across him hanging around by the door to the stairwell where the toilets were. He gave me a cheeky little smile and as I approached, he slipped through the door; I followed as he headed into the men's room. He was at the urinal, bare feet on the floor which was sticky with half-dry piss spillage, flies on his skinny jeans open. I sidled up next to him, uncaring of the dirty wetness under my soles, and got out my own cock. He was pissing from his nicely-shaped uncut penis so I did the same as he glanced down at my dick. I caught his eye, and there were no smiles now, just an intense, hungry look. When we'd both finished pissing, he did a quick look around to make sure we really were alone, then reached out and tentatively touched my soft cock; I let him, even moving my hips forward and turning slightly towards him by way of encouragement. He stroked it with his fingertips, making it jerk and swell, then he headed for a cubicle without even bothering to put his cock away; I shook off my last drops and followed.
Locking the door behind me, turned-on my the heat of our physical proximity, I took his semi-hard cock in my hand; he sighed as I started to tug it. He grabbed my semi as well and started to pull and squeeze it; it started to grow straight away. We got in really close to each other, feeling our breath on each other's faces and necks, our chests touching, and as we both got fully hard, we stood wanking each other off for several minutes. I finally built up the courage and took the plunge, crouching down in front of him, wanking my cock as I wanked his right near my face. He lifted the front of his singlet up so I let go of my own cock and rubbed his hard hairy abs as I brushed his cock head across my stubbled lips and chin, making him gasp. Peeling back his foreskin, I then took his glans and the first few inches of his shaft into my mouth and started to suck and wank him, getting more of him towards the back of my throat with each stroke until I let my hand drop; I used it to yank his jeans and undies further down his legs, past his knees. The dude gently rested the hand that wasn't holding his singlet on my beanie-covered head and made subtle thrusts into my mouth. Gripping his hard furry bum, I encouraged him to thrust more firmly and soon he was fucking my face, I was making sloppy wet sounds with my mouth but handling his length well.
Finally he whispered hoarsely "I'm gonna cum mate", giving me the chance to decide where I wanted it, but I was happy to take it in my gob so I just kept sucking until he gasped and my mouth was filled by spurts of warm, salty, slighly ammonia-flavoured spunk. I let him finish as I slowed down, then carefully swallowed it all, sucking the tip to extract the last drops, then looked up at him; he flashed me a quick smile then sat his bare ass down on the toilet as I stood. Without any fuss, he pulled my shorts and briefs down to my ankles and took me right down his throat straight away, making me gasp - what a pro! He sucked me hard and fast, almost aggressively, and I unloaded in his gob inside a minute. He also swallowed it all without complaint and sucked the last dips out of my urethra. I stroked his hair gently, a sign of thanks, as he grabbed his jeans and undies and pulled them up his legs as he stood. I pulled my own briefs and shorts up, and as we tucked, zipped and buttoned ourselves, we muttered "thanks mate" to each other, listened carefully to make sure no-one else had entered the men's, before I unlocked the cubicle door and slipped out. I settled back at my desk, rubbing my bare soles back and forth on the rough carpet a few times to scrub off the sticky wetness from the toilet floor; a minute later, the guy wandered past, cast me a quick look and half-smile, and continued on his way. I saw him around from time to time, and we'd studiously ignore each other; we never hooked up again.
Its worth mentioning the bush of course. There were several areas of bush and scrubland around campus, but also in the outer suburbs, where guys would cruise. Once I got a car for my 18th, they became far more accessible to me. Wearing shorts and sockless trainers (either shirtless or with a hoodie on, depending on the weather), I'd park up near the other vehicles and move under cover of the trees, get my cock out and just hang until interested guys came around and copped a feel of my meat. Sometimes I'd get sucked and fuck a dude's ass, sometimes I'd crouch down and get a mouthful before gripping a tree-trunk as a sheathed knob pounded my butt. If it was a muggy evening and I had my shirt off, I'd always like dudes to finish on my face and chest, and I kept an old towel - crusty with dry cum - in the boot of my car to wipe off with before driving home.
I had plenty of campus hookups, and one that I remember well was a couple of years later in 2012. I was 19, not long off turning 20, and had continued to work hard on my body in our garage gym, so my physique was pretty rockin'. A medium covering of dark blond hair had fully flourished over my chest, fanning out over my pecs and narrowing to a trail down to my pubes. By then I'd grown a little hair on my shoulders and upper back but not a lot, aside from a patch at the base of my spine over my ass crack. My pits, arms, legs and crack were pretty hairy and I'd started to trim my bush and shave my sack and shaft. My thick dark blond hair grew past my shoulders and I usually wore it up in a man-bun. That winter, I'd experimented with a beard for the first time and by the time summer came around later in the year, it was pretty nice and full. I'd also got my right earlobe pierced a couple of years earlier and wore a silver ring in it.
One warm sunny day in late October, I was in the law library wearing a sleeveless surfie tshirt and denim cutoffs over a pair of aging Bonds briefs, barefoot. Feeling super horny late in the afternoon, I couldn't concentrate on the essay I was researching so I reached into my pack when no-one was looking, grabbed a couple of condoms and slipped them in my back pocket, left my stuff at the desk I'd co-opted in the library and padded out into the sun, of a mind to cruise around one of my favourite toilet blocks. It was getting quieter on campus at this end of the day, so conversely I knew other guys would feel more confident cruising without being disturbed. I wandered through the campus to where there were some old 1960's buildings that had been closed for redevelopment; there was an old toilet block that had become ripe for cruising now that no one had any academic business down this end of the uni. It had originally been chained shut but the lock had long been busted and campus facilities management had never dealt with it. It was gloomy inside, smelling of stale piss and bodies, and the concrete floor was cool but dirty and tacky under my bare feet. I went to one of the cubicles, its walls littered with graffiti of the usual type - phone numbers, obscene sketches of spurting cocks, guys' and girls' names with brief statements about what sex acts they'd perform - you know the sort of thing. My favourite was a small spyhole (not big enough for a cock unfortunately) that had been poked in the partition between cubicles and butt cheeks, hair and a cock and balls drawn around it so it looked like an asshole. There was a small plug of toilet paper in it, which I removed. I locked the door, pushed my shorts and briefs down to my ankles, sat on the toilet (which was blocked with toilet paper, a couple of used condoms and half-full of piss, generating an arousing aroma) and leaned back on the cistern, allowing the sleazy atmosphere and odour of the place to fuel my horniness as I slowly tugged my cock hard, started scrolling through some porn on my phone, and waited.
After nearly half an hour I was getting bored and irritated, thinking I might just find a good clip and knock one out; I was of a mind to be a filthy cunt and spray my DNA over the wall where there were some other dried cum stains. But then I heard the sounds of running or jogging, slowing down as someone entered the block, panting. I waited, listening to whoever it was shuffling around, catching their breath. The door of my cubicle rattled slightly as he (it was a very safe assumptiuon that it was a "he") pushed to see if it would open, but of course I'd locked it. The door of the cubicle next to mine banged open, then I heard the sound of it slamming shut and locking. There were more breathing sounds for a minute or so, then a dark patch moved in front of the spyhole. I saw a glint of eye, so I leaned back, tugged my sleeveless tee up a bit to show off my hairy abs and my cum gutters, stretched my bare legs out in front of me, and made a show of slowly stroking my hard circumcised penis. I did that for a minute before the shadow behind the spyhole moved away, then I leaned forward to take a peek next door myself.
He was fit, in his 20's, of Mediteranean complexion, and dripping with sweat. His thick black hair hair was buzzed down to a grade 2 all over and thick black scruff covered his jaw. He had a couple of studs piercing both ears and a barbell through his left eyebrow. His physique was burly, he was definitely a rugby player, and his chest and stomach had a nice spread of dark hair that emerged from the sweaty running vest he wore. His gym shorts were around his ankles, bunched over his trainers, and he was now leaning back to give me a good look as he stroked his thick, uncut cock which jutted from an unruly pubic bush and crowned a pair of hairy balls. He was staring directly at the spyhole as he wanked. I shuffled my bare foot nearest to him across the floor until my toes poked under the divider between our stalls - I tapped them on the dirty floor.
Needing nothing more, he stood and tugged his undies and shorts up to the tops of this thighs, unlocked his door and stepped out; I leaned forward and undid the lock on mine, then settled back to continue wanking. He stepped in, holding up his shorts so his hard cock still jutted out in front of him, and shut and locked the door behind him. We exchanged quick smiles and I leaned forward and took his solid fucktube into my mouth and to the back of my throat with no further prompting. Fuck he tasted good, musky and sweaty. "Fuck yeah," he whispered hoarsely, and let me tug his shorts all the way down to his ankles and run my hands over his slippery wet hairy calves and thighs and up under his singlet as I got into sucking his cock. Initially letting his arms just hang by his sides, he then rested one hand on my head to encourage me as he used his other to tug up his vest and expose his furry abs and nipples for me to feel up. He started to thrust and I started to make those wet throaty sounds that always come with a facefuck as some thick spit started to drool over my lips and into my beard; I left my cock alone 'cos I didn't want to cum.
Breathing hard, he suddenly gripped my manbun to stop me and slid out of my gob, then got his hands under my hairy sweaty pits and hauled me up to my feet. He shuffled us around - awkwardly 'cos we both had shorts around our ankles - so he could take my place sitting on the toilet. I thought he was going to return the favour but instead he gripped my hips, turned me around and pushed me against the stall door, then pulled my hips back towards him. Moving his hands to my hairy glutes, he pushed them as wide apart as they'd go and spat on my moist hole, making me gasp, before he ground his scruffy jaw into my sweaty trench and started to aggressively lap at my asshole with his broad wet tongue. Sighing, I rested one forearm against the door and my forehead against my arm, using my other hand to tug the bottom of my sleeveless tee halfway up my torso and out of his way. He kept my ass spread wide as he continued to hungrilly lick my cunt for a couple of minutes before spitting on it a few times and pushing a finger up into my chute, fucking it in and out a bit while he fondled my balls with his other hand and then reached through, grabbed my rigid tool and pulled it as far back between my legs as he could, before letting it go so it slapped up against my abs and flicked strings of cocknot against the door. He did that a few times as he roughly fingered me; he obviously found it entertaining.
"Mate,", I whispered, "in my back pocket..." He poked around in my bunched-up cutoffs, down at my feet, until he found my condoms and grunted "cheers", then he sat back on the dunny, tore the foil wrapper with his teeth and pinched-and-rolled the rubber down over his cock before dribbling some spit on his fingers and smearing it over the head. I shuffled back towards him and spread my ass as he kept his cock pointing up and guided me by my hips; I couldn't get my legs where I wanted them because we both had our shorts keeping our ankles together, so I managed to tug one of my dirty bare feet out of my cutoffs so I could get my legs on either side of his. That made it easier for me to squat until I felt the slippery sheathed head at my dudehole; settling down, I fought to push my asshole open and breathed deeply as the solid guymeat forced through my sphincter and into my shitchute. Gritting my teeth as I breathed through the dull pain of penetration, I sat down on the guy's thighs and allowed his cock to push up into my rectum. After a minute, I started to ride him, slowly at first, then faster, as he gripped my waist hard and guided my movements. Holding my tee up just under my pecs with one hand, I braced my other against the wall as I bounced harder and harder, panting, my cock staying rock hard and waving about. Jeez it felt good now, and it felt even better when he slid his hands up my waist to my obliques and pulled me back into his chest - he reached around to wank me as he took over the fucking motion and his cock started to poke my fucknut head-on. After a minute I had to firmly push his hand off my cock, it was just too much.
He moved one hand to my back and pushed me forwards until I slid off his cock, his other hand holding the condom in place. Continuing to push until my face and chest were pressed against the door, he stood behind me, pulled my ass back a bit with one hand on my waist while guiding his cock back to my hole with the other hand. Smearing a fresh wad of spit over his cockhead, he pushed back up into me, gripped my hips and started to fuck me really hard, his pelvis slamming into my butt - my arms went up and I had to grip the top of the door as I was shoved up against it, making it rattle and bang with each stroke - I really hoped no-one else came in because the noise was getting louder and louder. I finally took one hand off the door and started to wank furiously as I was desperate to bust my nut - in a few strokes, I gasped and splattered the door with my jizz. A few seconds later, he slammed his groin into my butt hard and grunted into my ear, his strokes then slowing down as he used my ring to milk himself into the condom.
Panting, we separated and straightened up. The guy slipped off the full rubber, dropped it into the bowl with the other couple of used ones, pulled his briefs and shorts up his legs and tucked his softening wet cock away; I slid my free foot back through the leg holes of my briefs and cutoffs and pulled them up. We stood close together, beathing heavily, listening carefully for any other presence in the block, then he unlocked the door and slipped out, throwing a grin at me over his shoulder before he left. I followed a few seconds later, blinking in the sunshine and caught a glimpse of him running off into the distance. I wandered barefoot back to the library, letting the sun dry my skin (though my tee was damp) and settling back at my desk, my itch scratched for the time being.
As promised, this is a true account of my experiences as I remember them. More to come! I'd love to hear what you think of it, so email me if you want at davexander30@gmail.com