Part One

This really is a sex story, but before we get there, you’ll have to bear with me for a little while I set up what happened.

My name is Kelly O’ Rourke. If you are a sports fan—primarily a boxing buff—you may have heard of me. In the early 1980s I was ranked for a couple of years as a top-ten middleweight contender. At the risk of sounding immodest, I boxed fairly well, I hit with power, and I defended myself quite capably. Sometimes I’d go through an entire bout without my opponent landing a meaningful punch on me. I did have aspirations to be the world middleweight champion. I was told by many people who knew boxing that such a goal was within my grasp.

As I was Irish, all of my early fights were held in Europe. I quickly ran up a huge winning streak. I was 31-0 when my manager, Jimmy Devlin, decided to take me to North America to try my skills against the best 160-pound fighters there in hopes of earning an opportunity to compete for the world middleweight title. It didn’t work out well for me. I quickly discovered that the quality of opposition I’d faced in Europe paled to what I found in the United States. I won jut three of six bouts, suffered a crushing, one-sided defeat in my last professional contest, and immediately decided on a change of careers. I spent the rest of my working days employed in the public relations department of a chain of grocery stores in Ireland. New people I encountered daily fondly remembered me from my boxing days, which was very flattering.

This story goes back to when I was on my European winning streak. I had a bout scheduled in the south of France versus an Italian fighter named Marco Antonelli. He, too, was undefeated at time. (I planned on handing him his first loss!) The winner would likely be next in line for a shot at the European middleweight championship, so it was a milestone moment in my career. I had enough of a following in Ireland, and Antonelli had plenty of fans in Italy, for European television to be interested in broadcasting the bout. It was going to be shown live, across the continent, on a Saturday afternoon. I was 22 years old at the time—and I was approaching the peak of my boxing career.

Like most healthy 22-year-old males, I was a bundle of hormones constantly looking for places to deposit my seed. During my training, I learned there was a nude beach about two miles from the venue where my fight against Antonelli would be held. Apparently, according to what I heard, anything went there. Rumor had it that nymphomaniac girls would show up there for casual sex with any males who caught their attention. I was in the best physical shape in my life, at least moderately good looking, and I was a bit of a celebrity in the sports world. Therefore, I figured I’d have no trouble getting laid there. I told my manager, Jimmy, that I greatly desired to visit that beach shortly after the fight—regardless of its outcome.

Jimmy was the old-school type of boxing manager who believed that abstinence from sex was important for fighters if they wanted to keep their “competitive edge” going into a bout. Personally, I thought that was a bunch of malarky, but Jimmy was older and wiser than I was, so I always went along with whatever he said to me. He’d never led me astray before. To my delight, he did make a wonderful arrangement with me.

“Kelly,” he said. “I’ll make you this solemn promise: If you beat Antonelli, let’s both of us go to that nude beach for a good time! I think you and I have both earned a bit of fun and recreation. Besides, I’m as curious to visit this beach as you are. I hope there are at least one or two lonely women my age who would be willing to give my unattractive 58-year-old self a good fucking!” He then added, “Of course, I wouldn’t object to a romp with a lass who’s your age, Kelly. Just beat Antonelli—like you certainly should—and we’ll go there the next day before we head home to Ireland.”

I quickly agreed to that deal! In fact, it inspired me to have the best result of my entire boxing career. I stopped Antonelli in the third round. I broke his nose with a perfect left-right combination. It began to bleed profusely, so much so that both of us were covered with his blood. The referee had no alternative but to stop the bout. Antonelli had barely laid a glove on me.

When the fight was stopped and I had been declared the victor, Jimmy hugged me and said, “Change of plans about the nude beach, Kelly.” For a moment, I thought Jimmy was going to renege on his promise, but I was mistaken. He told me, “There are still about five hours before the sun sets. Not counting the patches of Antonelli’s blood on you, you hardly look like you’ve been in a fight. Let’s go to that beach immediately! Why wait until tomorrow?” I playfully kissed Jimmy on the cheek in response to that good news.

Part Two

Jimmy had rented a car which we used for our short drive to this famous French beach. It was a beautiful day for such a visit. The temperature was about 80 degrees Fahrenheit with not much humidity and a slight breeze.

There were plenty of cars beside ours that were parked in a nearby public lot. The sign as we approached the pathway to the beach was in French, of course, but I knew enough about the language to figure out the gist of what it said. I served as interpreter for Jimmy whose French consisted only of how to say yes, no, and thank you. I gave him this rough translation:

Attention: This is a family beach founded by naturists in 1950. Once you leave the parking area and head to the ocean along this pathway, clothing is not allowed, with the exception of hats and footwear. You are free to do whatever consenting adults are allowed to do under French law, but please be respectful of others, especially the families who come here. Enjoy yourselves!

Indeed, I noticed several people disrobing in the parking lot and leaving their clothing inside their cars. Some shapely females immediately caught my eye—and Jimmy’s too! We did what all the others had done. We stripped down to our birthday suits and strolled along the pathway—near enough to closely admire the derrieres of three French females whose ages seemed to range from 18 to 30. “Kelly, there’s nothing remotely like this back home!” Jimmy noted. “It’s a bloody shame, too!”

Once Jimmy and I got to the beach, it was exactly as the sign advertised: There were families with young children having picnics; there were individuals lying on the fine white sand getting tanned; there were plenty of swimmers frolicking in the water; and there were couples engaged in lusty fucking interspersed among everyone else! Nobody seemed to give the copulating twosomes a second thought. This was such a strange and erotic experience for me that as I scanned my surroundings, I could feel my penis starting to rise. I noticed that Jimmy’s rod was already fully erect. “Try to control yourself,” I told him. I should have followed my own advice because I too became hard quite quickly.

It took less than a minute for me to be recognized. Fortunately, the person who thought I looked familiar was a stunning, youthful, strawberry blonde female who was small in stature but a bundle of breasts. Her build reminded me of an old girlfriend named Michelle Fitzroy whom I’d had in the eighth-grade. (Michelle was an absolutely vapid gal, but her body was so appealing that I didn’t care that she couldn’t spell “cat” if I spotted her the C and the A. She was the first girl I had ever screwed. She was great fun multiple times as a bedmate!)

I was surprised when this lovely girl addressed me in perfect English, albeit with an obvious French accent. “Are you the winning Irish boxer I saw on television this afternoon, Kelly O’Rourke? If you are not, you are his twin!”

I told her I was indeed whom she thought I was. I tried to look at her pretty face, but my eyes naturally focused on her beautiful set of breasts. I asked her name and age. “I am Janine Ribodeau and I am 19 years old,” she informed me. “I come to this beach all the time. I have a high sex drive. I enjoy having recreational sex with attractive strangers, but I have never had intercourse with a famous athlete before. Do you want to have a fuck with me? I think it would be a beautiful experience.”

Of course I agreed! This was certainly the fastest-moving relationship I’d ever had with any female! I was going to tell Jimmy that I’d meet up with him in a while, but he was no longer standing near me. He had made the acquaintance of a compliant French woman about his age. They had begun embracing each other in the sand about 20 meters from where I stood with Janine. Jimmy was preparing to do what I was going to do. Good for him! He deserved this sexual treat. He had been an excellent manager for me.

I deserved sex too! I had been abstinent for six weeks while training for my fight with Antonelli. From prior experience, I knew that if I went without sex for that long, when I finally did get laid, I would undoubtedly unleash a massive cum shot. I liked to refer to it as “draining my pipes.”

Janine took my hand and led me to a thick, red beach blanket about 40 meters from where Jimmy and his new friend were getting to know each other. I was overcome with lust for this luscious, diminutive sexpot. Janine sexily spread her legs in anticipation of my penetrating her. That was definitely on the agenda, but I wanted to enjoy this sexy French girl’s bodily charms first.

I moved to a position on the blanket beside Janine where I could embrace her and fondle her thoroughly inviting tits. Her nipples were especially excellent to grope. They became hard as bullets after just a few seconds of my rubbing them with my thumbs and index fingers. “Damn! These things are sexy!” I told her with great admiration. “You have fabulous breasts, Janine. I just have to suck on them.”

I immediately did just that. There is nothing quite so sexually satisfying as sucking on a beautiful, well-built, teenage girl’s boobs. I had known that since my days of bedding Michelle Fitzroy as a schoolboy. Janine Ribodeau just confirmed what I already knew. It was a totally rapturous experience for me as I moved from left to right and back again, licking every inch of Janine’s bouncing mammary glands with frequent stops to suck on her nipples. Janine was actively participating, too. She was stimulating my penis with a series of sensual yanks on my shaft with her left hand and the exploration of my testicles with her right hand. She had obviously done this sort of thing frequently. I assumed she’d had numerous sexual partners.

I had been so fixated on Janine’s full, perky tits that I hadn’t realized that she had a word-class pussy, too. It was hairless, having been neatly shaved. (This girl obviously came to the beach prepared to fuck!) I gave it some serious licking before inserting a finger inside her sexy crevice. I slid it in and out of her for a few seconds, which made Janine moan slightly. “My dick will please you even more than my finger!” I told her in advance. I intended to live up to my word.

I immediately mounted Janine and shoved my throbbing manhood inside her vagina. It was a warm and wonderful place. My goal was to please her for being such an open-minded, easygoing sex partner. I gave her long, slow thrusts which we both enjoyed. For fun, I’d deliberately break the rhythm of fucking we’d established by giving Janine some rapid-fire thrusts, after which I returned to my much slower but more passionate love-making technique.

After about five fabulous minutes of this very enjoyable fucking, Janine told me sweetly, “Give me your load of semen, Kelly!” I had intended to launch a blast across her sensational tits, but I acceded to her simple request. “One load of my baby-makers coming up!” I said joyfully in response. I kissed Janine’s lips briefly...and then I really let loose!

What a cum blast I launched! The dam was bursting after six weeks of forced celibacy. Rope after rope of my warm semen flooded into Janine’s vagina. I counted four individual squirts of cum. The feeling of ejaculating so strongly and for so long was unprecedented for me. Sure, the volume and power were largely because I had gone without sex for a month and a half, but my excellent cum shot was also attributable to the overt sexuality of the nubile girl I was merrily screwing on a public French beach whom I barely knew.

My dick remained stiff for quite a while, so I took advantage of it by continuing my gentle thrusts with it. In my mind, I concluded that fucking busty Janine Bolideau was more fun than the easy win I’d had in the ring a few hours earlier. The former made me a lot of money, but the latter was more personally satisfying. When I finally pulled out of Janine’s pussy, a large dollop of semen leaked out and dripped sexily onto the beach blanket. The sight of it made me horny, so I began to suck on her tits again.

“You are insatiable, Kelly!” she said.

“How can I not be sexually insatiable when I have someone as gorgeous as you are as my sex partner?” I asked rhetorically. I seriously wanted to continue this sexual relationship with Janine indefinitely, but that was plainly impossible as I’d be heading back to Ireland in about 24 hours. This was going to have to be a classic—and a very memorable—one-and-done carnal experience.

Janine and I cuddled and kissed for about 20 minutes as we watched the other beach people do various activities—all without a stitch of clothing on their bodies, of course. People of all ages were enjoying the ocean. On the beach, children were building sand castles; adults were tanning. Some were playing cards, merrily chatting, or sipping on cold drinks from the coolers they had brought. Teens were tossing frisbees and eating snacks. By my estimation, about 30 percent of the attendees were fucking. (I found watching teenage couples having sex to be very arousing. It was easy to see who were newbies at it and who were veterans.) The nude beach was a complete potpourri of people and their pastimes to be sure!

Janine began giving me a gentle hand job, which was quite lovely—and I told her so. I figured she wanted another screwing session, and I was perfectly willing to comply. I was young and virile, so I could manage a second ejaculation despite having had a cum shot for the ages less than half an hour before.

“I want to prepare you for another fuck, Kelly,” Janine told me before kissing me tenderly on the cheek. “You have a nice, healthy cock, so I think you will be ready for intercourse again very soon.”

“I was certainly hoping for more sex!” I agreed.

“Good!” Janine stated, but then she did something totally unexpected. “Marie, come here! You can have a turn now!” she shouted in French.

About 30 meters to my right, I saw a girl get up from her beach banket and stride toward me. She was miniature version of Janine, obviously a sister, and equally appealing to me.

Janine explained, “When I first saw you enter the beach from the pathway, Kelly, I recognized you as the famous Irish boxer. I told my sister Marie you were a famous athlete. She didn’t believe me, but she thinks you are as handsome as I do. Marie wants to have a fuck with you, too. I said to my sister, ‘If he’s the person I think he is, I get to go first.’ Marie has been patiently waiting for us to finish. It was a wonderful fuck we had, Kelly. Thank you so much. You do want to fuck Marie, don’t you? Her English is not as good as mine, though.”

This was certainly an unprecedented situation for me: Two fucks in one day, one right after the other, with a pair of sexy sisters! I did have one important reservation about copulating with Marie, though.

I answered, “I’d love to fuck Marie, but...”

Janine didn’t let me finish my statement. She knew what I was thinking and what I was going to say. “Don’t waste your time worrying about what I know you are worrying about,” Janine informed me. "I’ve been coming to this beach my entire life. Nobody here cares about trivial things like that. As long as both people agree to engage in intercourse, nobody will say a word about it.”

With that green light freely given to me, I had an equally marvelous time fucking Marie, despite the language barrier. (Actually, her lack of English fluency was something of a turn-on for me. During our lovemaking, I could—and did—say some very graphic things in colorful language to Marie without fear of her taking offense.) In due course, I gave Marie a sizable shot of my semen, too. It wasn’t the same volume as the blast that had filled Janine’s vagina to overflowing an hour before, but it was nothing to sneeze at.

Overall, I was very pleased at my performance that day: A third-round knockout over the best young middleweight fighter in Italy, and two sensational, passionate screws with a pair of pretty French sisters on a nude beach. I must have been extremely turned on by the girls’ strawberry blonde hair!