Make Sure to See the Marshall’s Beach Main Page
The San Francisco Bay Area leaves little to do for two straight guys during this coronavirus crisis. My wife had gone on a two-week vacation to visit relatives up north, leaving her brother and I to fend for ourselves.
He called me up wanting to do something. Visit the submarine in San Francisco? No, it’s closed. How about the aircraft carrier in Alameda? No, closed also.
Maybe just go on a hike? No, too hot. Way too hot. We’ve been in a heat wave.
I had been wanting to get back to Baker Beach for a while. It’s been years. He’s such a prude, that I was reluctant to suggest it. But I did.
He asked, “That’s a nude beach, right?”
“Well, no. No fucking way!”
“OK, we’ll come up with something else. Maybe play guitars or something.” I really didn’t want to, but there was nothing else going on. Besides, I’m a horrible guitar player, and he’s worse. I never practice, so it hurts my fingers.
To my utter surprise, he suddenly but quietly said, “OK, let’s pop on over to Baker.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Keith, willing to go to a nude beach? No way. I’ve been wanting to see him naked for 5 years, but it never happened. He’s seen me naked plenty of times, since my wife and I are nudists at home.
It’s not that I was sexually attracted to Keith. It was more like I wanted to help him get out of his hypocritical shell. I know he’d love to be more playful, sexually and otherwise, but he’s pretty set in his ways.
Well, to cut the long boring part out of the story, we got to the parking lot. There were more stairs than I remembered. I figured it was because I parked in a more northern parking lot.
There were quite a few people walking down, and some walking up, too. Most were wearing masks.
When we got down to the beach, it was nice, but not as I remembered it.
There was a shitload of people there. Maybe a thousand altogether. We approached from the south end, and everyone was clothed, although most were not masked. So far, my brother-in-law was comfortable. I wondered what would happen as we worked our way north, past a partial rock outcropping, to the nude section. Surely he knew what was coming. I was thinking it would be terrible if he just kept his shorts on the whole time. I could imagine him doing just that.
Well, we got there, and his mask and shorts were off in a flash. I couldn’t believe this was Keith, my brother-in-law, in the flesh, literally.
He had remarked a few times in the past that my cock was large. I think I’m just average, and of course he had never seen it erect, but it caused me to assume he must be smaller than average. Nope, his dick, surrounded by a nest of hair, was about normal. Well, maybe a little on the small side, but not at all tiny. He wasn’t fat, but just a bit too rounded for a six-pack. Overall, he was well proportioned for a 6’2″ guy.
We continued walking north. As you would expect in San Francisco, it was mostly men. Maybe only ten percent of the people were women. But, oh what women! Most were young and Asian. San Francisco, as well as the other major western cities of Portland and Seattle, have large Asian cultures.
On the northern half of the beach, almost everyone was naked, including those gorgeous girls.
The guys were interesting, too. Some old, some young. Most with small, soft dicks. But not all of them. Keith and I passed a foursome. It was two pairs of two guys, one of each pair was standing, and the others were kneeling in front of them. One was getting his dick sucked. The other seemed about to receive that service. The suckee was obviously erect. I wondered what Keith thought of that. He didn’t say anything as we walked on.
We saw two guys knee-deep in the water facing the shore. They were both at least semi-erect. I was delighted. Not because I’m totally in love with nude, erect guys, but because they represented a kind of freedom. They weren’t worried that someone would see them erect – a problem that has often plagued me. I’m a bit shy about being seen erect in public. And yet, at the same time, I’m very proud to be seen with an erection in certain circumstances.
We came almost to the northern end and saw the best sight so far: A guy was sitting, reclined against the rocks at the bottom of a cliff looking out at the people walking and reclining on the beach and in the shallow water. His legs were spread out in front of him, and he had a full erection. He had no hair in his crotch area, and he was smiling.
I wanted to walk up to him and say, “Way cool.” So I did. He smiled back, then patted the sand next to him, inviting me and Keith to sit there.
I walked over and sat down, my dick already half-hard. I glanced over at Keith. As he was sitting down I couldn’t help notice that his penis was waving in front of him, fully erect.
I immediately sprang fully erect, as our new friend started lightly touching and mildly stroking his own erection.
When in Rome, right? So I started stroking mine. And, looking over, I saw it was unanimous. Keith was wanking too. But Keith was really going to town.
“Hang on there, big guy,” our new friend suggested, causing Keith to look sheepish and stop stroking. “You want to make it last, don’t you?” the guy added.
That launched a discussion about wanking techniques in general, as all three of us resumed very mildly stroking. I couldn’t help playing the teacher and telling them about my recently learned technique of staying in orgasm for minutes at a time, but not cumming.
Of course they wanted a demonstration, and I was all too happy to comply. Not only did I have their full attention on me, now we had a semi-circle of six other guys, and one of the thin, short, beautiful Asian girls standing in front of us, casting their afternoon shadows over us, and watching intently. The girl had her fingers between her legs. The guys were mildly stroking.
Everyone was focused on me, and my little sermon about how to make orgasms last. The girl, who introduced herself as Kimmi, let us know that what I worked so hard to achieve, and what the guys were about to learn, came naturally to her.
Now, everyone’s attention was on her rather than me. I wasn’t disappointed. I was very interested in her also. One of the standing up guys gave her a towel, and she laid down in front of us with her legs spread wide. She then brought her knees up and instructed us to watch her anus, as she started vigorously rubbing her clit. In a couple of minutes, you could see her anus start to contract and release. At first it was just every ten or fifteen seconds. Then, her whole body tightened up, and it became obvious she was in orgasm. You could see her first two fingers glistening with pussy juice, and then she was lost. I don’t know if she tuned all us watchers out, now numbering over twenty, or whether our presence intensified her orgasm. Maybe it was both.
Can you imagine her boldness? Over twenty men watching her masturbate. All these guys watching this little girl and not only didn’t it worry or bother or embarrass her, she was having a great time.
Then it happened. We could all see it. Her anus started contracting rhythmically. And continued contracting as she kept rubbing her vagina. Every now and then, she let out a little involuntary whimper. At one point she was staring right into my eyes. If I wasn’t already married I’d propose to her. It was probably a full three minutes before she closed her eyes, breathed a deep sigh, and let her fingers stop moving.
The guy on the beach that we first saw with the erection, still good and erect turned to me and asked, “So you can do that?”
“Well, something like that.”
“Can you teach me… us?”
“I’ll be glad to!” I didn’t need an engraved invitation to jerk off in front of an eager crowd.
Someone else threw down a blanket. A couple of men left, but six more took their place. Now, all eyes were on me. I started to explain the technique, as I was stoking my seriously hard cock.
I know that there’s not much to see with cumless orgasms, so I explained they should watch my perineal area, between my balls and my anus for contractions. I also asked for a volunteer. Several guys kind of pressed forward, including Keith. I chose Keith. I instructed him to place a couple of fingers on my perineal area from time to time during my demonstration, and let everyone know what he was feeling.
I got down to the serious business of jerking off, but as promised, I was shooting for continuous orgasms. It didn’t take me long. Keith reported that he could feel the contractions of my urethra. I’m pretty sure everyone could see some of that also. I orgasmed and orgasmed, but it didn’t last as long as I would have hoped. Maybe three minutes of more-or-less continuous orgasm. Then, I let it get a little bit away from me, and a single drop of semen came out of my peehole. But that was all, and I was able to return to my dry orgasms for another minute or so. Then I fully lost it, and ejaculated all over the place, to the applause of about 30 men, and three women.
As you can imagine after that day, Keith and I became the best of jack off buddies.
Here’s the goofy part. That wasn’t Baker Beach. It turns out we were on Marshall’s Beach, which is the next strip of sand to the north. Baker Beach is the world-famous nude beach where sometimes sexual activities can be seen. Marshall’s is supposedly a more secret and less conservative beach.
There’s a Follow-Up To This Story Below the Picture
This is Marshall’s Beach
So I went Tuesday by myself to Baker Beach this time. It was around noon. The weather was nearly the same, maybe a bit cooler, since there was a light fog, as is so typical in San Francisco. But it was totally naked weather, Just not hot. The reason I bring this up is because the population on the beach was totally different. There were only about 20 people on Baker Beach, 5 of which were naked. No one had an erection. One person was a lovely, tall, thin white woman in her early twenties. It was a real pleasure to look at her. She didn’t seem to be there with anyone. Very bold, a woman alone on a nude beach!
So then I went up the cliffs, walked north for perhaps a third of a mile, then down all those stairs to Marshall’s Beach. I figured if there were probably a thousand people all crowded onto the beach last Friday afternoon, it would be crowded today, right?
Not so. There were only about 50 people. All men. Every single one! As typical and expected, all were clothed on the south end of the beach. I walked north to the naked section. There were some nude men there. I noticed a couple of guys had gone farther north, starting to clamber over some rocks that seemed to mark the end of the beach. They had a look about them. Like they were up to something. Like they knew where they were going. I put my shoes back on and followed.
I didn’t have to go far. Just past where people could see, there was one guy giving another a blow job. Ten feet past that, were a couple engaged in buttfucking. I reclined about ten feet away from both couples, against some rocks. I was triangulated so both couples were ten feet away. They were surely aware of my presence, but no one said anything. I proceed to masturbate enjoying the show. Meanwhile, a container ship was slowly making its way into port. Anyone on that ship would have clearly seen me, which I found rather exciting.
A nearly hairless Asian guy climbed over the rocks and joined us. He walked right up to the blowjob guys and watched from perhaps 3 4 feet away for a short while. I had been afraid to approach that closely, in case they wanted some privacy, or distance, or something. He then walked over to the buttfucking couple and stood close to them while idly wanking. He then proceed over the rocks farther north and out of sight.
I was making it a point not to cum and ruin the whole thing, but after a while, I became concerned about sunburn, so I figured I’d toss off, and leave. But somehow, I never got to orgasming. I think I was somehow a bit self-conscious or something. Maybe it was the container ship which was moving remarkably slowly as it was approaching the Golden Gate Bridge.
In retrospect, I should have walked right up to those guys, and said, “Hey, mind if I watch?” I’m rather certain that at minimum they’d say, “Sure,” But maybe more, they would have sucked me, or wanted me to participate in some way.
As the old Beatles song goes, I’m “groovin’ up slowly.” The more I go to the beach(es), the more bold or assured I’ll become. I’m planning to go back today or tomorrow. I’ll invite Keith.