It was then I noticed the blue micro g-sting on Royd

The last lap of “dishonor” proved barren as the rocky outcrops and dense bushes behind the beach. I was standing on the cliff top watching as the late summer rays bathed the enormous harbor headlands in shades of gold and amber. A figure appeared seemingly from nowhere. He climbed down the small rock wall I was standing on and strode along the large flat surface of the old battlement defenses. I had never seen such a God-like creature in all my life. His strong and heavily muscled body moved surprisingly with intense coiled strength and fluidity. He stopped and just stood there, silent, motionless. I drank his body in, the jet black hair cut to look like a marine, his broad shoulders, nut brown flawless skin, massive arms, chiseled pendulous pecs with huge, pierced nipples, and that deliciously distended, muscled roidgut. It was then I noticed the blue micro g-sting. It was part of him, molded to every shape curve and protrusion to perfection. The pouch barely containing its precious wares, the tiny side straps running up over the perfectly formed hip before plunging lost between the crevice of a gluteus maximus that only Tom of Finland could have created! Strong, heavily muscled legs supported this divine apparition. Every slight movement in his torso tightened the powerful leg muscles making them protrude and become more defined. I watched and observed. He didn’t know I was there so was unguarded and at ease. Touching his body parts from time to time, adjusting the pouch, a play with a nipple or a running a finger down from the canyon of his enormous pecs down to the top of the pouch of his g-string. I was transfixed. I wanted a g-string like that. Like some magic coat, if I wear it, would it transform me into a Muscle God like this? I plucked up courage climbed down the rock wall and walked up to him. I said something deep and profound like, “Nice g-string. What brand is it?” In a deep resonating voice replied that he had made it from an old string tank top! Almost unable to control myself and not wanting to disgrace myself, I moved on.

I needed to touch him, just once, feel his skin, see the g-string up close and drink in his muscularity and masculinity. Indeed a super heroic Muscle God! The sand dunes had not been giving. The constant noise of the planes taking off from the nearby airport was driving me to distraction and I had been lying there for some time and only a rag tag group of desperate guys cruised by. I was hot, bothered and about to join them! I threw my back pack over my shoulder and headed toward my car. I crossed the sandy track and was about to leave the embrace of thick bushes and sandy hollows, then I saw the vision again. He was lying in a small dip some 4 to 5 feet away. He was on all fours and was spreading his towel. I followed the path that cut around some bushes behind him. I could see him adjusting the corners of his towel near his head. From behind I saw everything. He was unaware of my presence and I lingered. It was that red g-string again! His huge powerful legs were slightly apart. They seemed to accentuate his big muscular ass cheeks and I could see the almost non existent back of his g-string stretching over the most perfectly formed hole I had seen. Below, his balls were barely contained in the flimsy fabric. The fabric was stretched so much by his cock that I could see the shaft and smooth ball sack under the pouch. Metal cockrings reflected the sunlight that was shining directly onto him. He seemed to stretch his back, arching his lower back, pushing his buttocks even higher and slightly wider.The hole seemed to devour the strap as it stretched tighter across it. I could see it twitching in and out as the strap teased it more and more. By this time I had worked my way closer and closer around the clump of bushes and still out of his sight. He turned over on to his back and started applying suntan oil. His body shining in the late afternoon light. It aroused him and the pouch could not contain him. He worked his hands down his roidgutted abs, then back around his pecs, pausing to stroke his nipples. The effect was instant as his cock lifted the pouch and burst out the top. He kept stroking his nipples with one hand while exploring his body with the other. I watched transfixed. His movements quickened, he rolled his hips up and down. Between his slightly spread legs I could see his frenzied hole working on the strap. Opening and closing completely devouring the strap, wrapping its lips around the straining sting. He pulled out his cock and started stroking his hard, hard fuck meat. His whole body writhed and jerked in a frenzy as he emptied the entire contents of his balls all over himself, the white juice oozing down his between his pecs, neck, abs and about everywhere else. Silently and at the same time I emptied my load into my hot dry sand. Watching him thrilled me, pure, erotic and sensual....it was so close and unattainable or would it be?