After 3 nights at sea we moored the 30' Pion at the Marina. I was on shore leave for the evening. Not knowing where to go, I headed down to a nearby beach and sunbaked, trying to get rid of the dizzy feeling that land brings after days of rocking on a boat.

As the sun set I headed back up the narrow path through the dunes. I could see a figure standing there in the darkness. As I approached I noticed this tall masculine shirtless dude and our eyes met. He broke the three second rule so I diverted my gaze downwards but it was only then that I noticed that his boardies were undone at the fly. I instantly appreciated that he had worked up half a mongrel standing there, obviously horny after surfing. Had I caught him wanking? I wondered. Protruding through the fabric of his shorts was a noticeably admirable effort. He attempted to conceal his erection with one leg raised as he leaned against the path fence. Butterflies rushed my stomach as I resisted the initial temptation to keep walking. I stopped next to him leaning on the fence at his side. Some inane discussion ensured. I looked down again and as I realised the magnitude of his situation, I adjusted myself feeling my excitement growing. He noticed my discomfort and reached across rubbing my cock through my shorts. Alone and in the dark, I turned and faced him, kissing his neck and then his nipples. His were very sensitive and he reacted with a deep moan, and he dropped his shorts to the sand. Our bodies pressed together, flesh on flesh, muscle to muscle, dick against dick. I raised one arm above his head, stretching his triceps and I licked his armpit and down his pecs, carressing his body with mine.

From our vantage point there on the beach accessway, shaded from the moonlight by the heavy trees above us, we could see other people approaching towards the Beach to skinnydip or canoodle, or just to walk. At first we hastily raised our boardies and we let them drop again as the people passed. Later, more than an hour into the darkness, well I guess we were just too engrossed in each other to bother. All that stimulation, overstimulation, my dick ached for release, so the best I could manage was to shield his face from being recognised by the locals and we kept at it. Almost oblivious to their presense, some people stopped and watched us play from a few metres away. I don't remember now exactly how we finished. Obviously sticky, exhausted and I remember suddenly feeling hungry for a restaurant meal. The others were making out when we left.

The next morning I could still smell his scent up my nostrils, and memories of the evening flooded back. I never got his name or number and it was not that kind of meeting. Skipper would never tolerate a stow away, but a very strong connection was made in a fleeting instant of spontaniously discarded inhibition. A sailor with a "straight" surfy dude hanging to get off before going home to his wife for dinner.