After a night of blissful slumber, I awoke and made my way to the bathroom. My morning ablutions required a further shower to wash away the rough dry remains of two further nymphet shows my lustful mind and right hand had given me the previous night. That done, I went to the kitchen to prepare a breakfast my hungry body now needed. Apple juice, ham slices, two eggs easy over and a pan of butter mushrooms to top it off.
The sun was about three hours into the cloudless sky by the time I had finished my breakfast, and cleaned up the kitchen. I headed down into the small basement workshop to gather up my beachcombers bag and took my binoculars for good measure; you just never know what you will see down on the beach.
The air was crisp as I reached the bottom of the cliff path and headed to the tide line where the pickings of the early morning high tide would be found. Sometimes, beachcombing does pay its way, even without the art. I had managed a few good pairs of Nike training shoes and a lot of odd ones from some lost cargo at sea no doubt, all in excellent if somewhat soggy condition. Today however, I was not really on the look-out for flotsam, I wanted to do a bit of bird spotting, and the bird I had in mind was my nymphet whom I hoped would be making the most of her holiday on the beach.
It was back to the arena of the previous night’s show I headed to first, listening hopefully as I approached, only to be a little disappointed by a silence free of jingling bells. Climbing the rocks, I walked around the rock to stand above the remains of the disturbed sand from the footsteps of the young lady not half a day ago. I squatted onto my haunches and looked at the secluded spot where she had disrobed and eroticised, when I noticed the unmistakable shape of a small bell in the sand.
Stepping onto the sand, I reached down and gathered up the small, silvered bell and closed my fingers around it and smiled. The sound came to my ears as clearly as the night before as I closed my eyes and felt the cold hardness of the small bell in my palm. When I opened my eyes the sound was still there, a jingling of more than just the one bell in my hand. Snapping out of my fantasy, I stepped back onto the rocks and sidled up to the crest of the small amphitheatre beach and glanced over the top towards the sound.
‘Yesssssssss…’ There, about thirty yards away, clambering over the rocky foreshore in my direction was the young girl, bag over her shoulder. I ducked down, hopefully unseen, and retreated to the other side of the beach and clambered around the rocky spur, then tracked back towards the base of the cliff and began to climb the twenty feet high bluff. As I crested the top of the cliff, the jingling of the bells stopped, and I heard the sound of joyous singing from my nymphet, drifting to my ears on the mid morning air.
Scrabbling as quietly as possible to the cliff edge, I soon found my perfect viewpoint, sheltered by cliff top scrub, yet clear enough to lie down and move silently on a clear grassy area. Below me, and totally unaware of my presence, the young girl was seemingly preparing for a day by the sea; unpacking and unfurling a somewhat larger towel than she had the previous night, followed by a flask, some plastic food containers and sun cream.
Reaching down in front of her, I could see she was obviously undoing her top, though her back was to me. I could almost picture the blouse opening slowly to reveal her delicate bosom as she peeled it smoothly down her shoulders and removed it completely. Turning, she placed the blouse into the bag and stood upright. Facing me now, I was able to clearly see what I had just imagined, her firm young breasts proudly jutting out from her slim body, tipped by small dark nipples. Beauty has many definitions, but before me was positively a defining vision.
Her hands then dropped to the hem of her short, and unbuttoned the fastener, followed by the quick release of the zipper. Loosely, she shrugged the shorts from her small hips and let gravity remove them for her, and what sensuous entertainment gravity can provide, slowly tugging the shorts down her smooth tanned thighs and over her knees to freefall around her ankles. Lifting her feet one by one, she stepped from the shorts and stooped to pick them up, folding them neatly into beach bag with her blouse.
As previously, she was not wearing any panties, and her peach fuzz labial split was plain to see. Tidy in its innocence, her young body was again exciting my mature body to determined hardness as I lay there watching her prepare for sunbathing. The cream followed, multiple squirts of which she smoothed on slowly to her naked body, spreading it evenly everywhere but the very centre of her upper back. From the ankles and the top of her feet, along her legs to her smooth young thigh she massaged the cream in, raising one leg slightly to introduce a cream filled hand between her inner thighs providing total coverage of a potentially burning sun. Reaching behind her, she took further handfuls of cream and applied it to her buttocks, rubbing it well into the anal cleavage and upwards to the small of her back. Finally, she returned her attention to the upper front torso, whereon sat those beautiful pert breasts, which she seemed to revel in covering with the cream.
As I watched, I became aware that her head was now thrown backwards, her face to the sun, almost looking above me were it not for the fact her eyes were closed. Her fingers were most definitely rubbing the cream well into her breasts and seemed to be concentrating on her nipples a wee bit more than just applying sun cream required. Still facing towards my direction, she crossed her ankles and slowly lowered herself into a sitting position on her towel, her knees forced apart as she descended.
With her eyes still closed, my little nymphet continued to sensuously massage her breasts. I quickly reached into my bag and removed my rubberised binoculars, knowing the sun was behind me and there was little chance of any stray reflection from the lens alerting her to my hidden presence. Carefully looking through the lenses, I quickly acquired my target and focused in on her hands. Rubbing continuously at her breasts had the effect of pumping up her dark nipples to erection, which in turn had a similar effect in my now tight shorts.
Moving my view momentarily upwards to be sure I was still unobserved, I then lowered my point of interest lower than her beautiful breasts and continued across her smooth flat belly to the beginnings of her peach fuzz pubes, Dark, and sparse, but most definitely there, her young body was turning into that of a fully fledged woman, not just the budding of breasts but the start of a hirsute future was in view. There, just beneath the beginnings of womanhood was the start of her labial cleft, gently opened by her chosen sitting method. A thin tidy opening, a vertical slit topped by a small but significant bulge of skin folded neatly over her clitoris, beneath which, was the light pink veneer of her inner labia.
I reached down my left hand and freed my hard cock from my shorts, shuffling them down my thighs whilst still focusing in on the feminine beauty before me. A hand suddenly dropped into view, and the fingers slid across the top of her clitoris and into the cleft.
“Oh my great giddy aunt” I muttered to myself hoarsely, rubbing my stiff cock slowly, as I watched this new show below me.
The middle finger of this hand, now my sole point of concentration, was slowly and sensuously sliding back and forth along the furrow of the young pussy, the light pink veneer darkening visibly as blood flowed into the labia and stayed there. There, also, as I watched, were the unmistakable beginnings of something becoming wet. The finger seemed to plough deeper with each passage downward and seemed also to travel further downward with each slow stroke of its movement. As I watched in rapture, the digit suddenly disappeared as if suddenly chopped off at the second knuckle. It didn’t take a genius in female anatomy to figure out that the finger was firmly ensconced in that beautiful innocent vagina that was sat revealed before me.
The outer fingers squeezed the lips together bounding the buried digit with soft damp flesh. As if trying to escape, I could see the knuckle tugging back and forth between the fleshy lips that were the labia of my little nymphet. Her finger was dipping for apples into a tub that was sure to deliver more than just one in return for the effort.
I quickly moved my point of view to her face, still unsure of her awareness to my observation; but her eyes were still firmly closed, her mouth now open and her tongue rapidly flickering in and out of her parted lips. Her throat was also shaking in response to the moaning sound that I could only very faintly make out from my viewpoint. Her breasts were still being attended to by her remaining hand; the cream no longer a reason for the attention they were now receiving.
My cock meanwhile was also being attended to by my free hand, and cream was foremost in my mind, the sex cream I wanted to place right there in that furrow beside her hidden digit, or right there on the flickering tongue. Either way, I was about to produce a handful of something that would in all probability provide no UV protection whatsoever. I squeezed the hard shaft slowly, milking it, feeling the pressure of my rapidly approaching orgasm building between my fingers.
Looking back to my nymphet, and focusing back to her buried finger I suddenly became aware of a whimpering squealing noise from below. As I watched closely, I suddenly saw a flush of liquid squirt out from between her fingers as she came to orgasm and squealed in delight. Her body shook with the force of her orgasm and still she continued to slide the tip of her finger in and out of her small vagina, milking it all the more of the clear fluid copiously running across her buttocks down to her arse and wetting the towel. Then she was done her head suddenly bowed forward, followed by her body as she tumbled across my field of view onto the towel.
That was like pulling a trigger in my nuts, and off they went. Bang and my hand was suddenly full of sticky semen, the cream I now knew I was determined to get into my nymphet some time during this holiday of hers. I lowered the binoculars and took out some wet wipes to clean myself off with and glanced up to see my beauty straightening up and then lying down on her back facing the sun, her legs slightly apart, her wet pussy facing me…
“Oh Bliss…” I started to work on a plan.
