And now for something completely different.

Breasts don't bite.

In Ontario, it's been legal for women to be topless and outdoors since 1996, when University of Guelph student Gwen Jacobs won the right through the Ontario Court of Appeal. Nevertheless, the matter remains controversial; some communities, such as Oshawa, have even attempted to pass municipal legislations to retain the illegality of the bared tit. In my experience, with the exception of the Dyke March during Toronto Pride events, women almost never exercise this right at all. I suspect that there's good reason.

It's because most men are morons who don't know how to behave themselves.

But leave it to the Guelph coed student body to make sure that this right doesn't drift away. Recently, students organized a Top Freedom Day event which attracted women of all age groups.

Reflecting on the social pressure to not be topless in public, organizer Andrea Crinklaw mused, "If it could be like in Europe where women are able to be top-free on the beaches or roller blade down the street without a shirt and people aren’t appalled by it, that would be amazing.”

My former partner Diva loved being topless, and often responded angrily when, as we would return to civilization after a two-week vacation at some clothing-optional event, she would remind herself (or be reminded by others) to put clothes back on. She called her toplessness "taking her tits out for a walk."

Pretty.

Women of the great outdoors.

Beating the heat.

"Wanna join me in the shower?"

She smiled and lifted the blue Tshirt over her head, revealing those small, pert breasts that I like so much. The "muffins". How many times had we laughed over that nickname as we lay awake in the morning, contemplating breakfasts?

Cool water pattered on my head and seethed through my long locks as she stepped in after me. She made cute clowny faces when the spattering water splashed her. I smiled as I enjoyed looking at her trim form, the dimples above her ass, the way she slicked back her short, dark hair to reveal the spikes through her earlobes.

Gently, I drew her close, and my chest swelled when she groaned in approval. My palm spread itself out and across her belly, a finger playfully sliding across her tiny navel, while I pressed her close to me and started chewing on her shoulders and the nape of her neck. She loves it when I do that. The fingertip at her navel slid lower until I could just barely feel the top of her sexily trimmed black stripe. My cock began to swell, and I could feel the pressure build within the length of me, widening me, raising my girth in slow upward waves until the middle of my shaft started to meet her pert cheeks.

She turned to face me and thrust her tongue into my mouth as we kissed. The water continued to pound on us, rivulets skimming through her clavicles and between her pretty wee tits when she reached forward to grasp me in her hand. She lathered her fingers with soap and started to pull and stroke my growing cock. By the time her other hand was gently squeezing my balls, both of my own hands began to play with her as well, cupping her round little ass with one as another teased her mound.

Holding on to her gorgeous ass always makes me hard as stone.

My fingers probed between her thighs, through her drenched folds, and easily found a hardening shaft of her own. The tips of my fore- and middlefingers began to press and circle slowly, gently, at either side of her hood until I felt it begin to swell and become larger. Her button was soon primed, and as she steadied herself before me and continued to heft my girth and squeeze me in her hand, I began to jill her off with consistent circular strokes. I lightened my touch when drawing toward me, pressing more firmly when fingering forward, alternating pressure and speed as she started to gasp and squeeze her dark eyes shut. It doesn't take her long to cum from there, especially if she's getting her little ass squeezed at the same time.

She came suddenly, loudly, pressing her head against my chest as she panted and felts both the waves within her and from the water continuing to rain on her bent back. Her hand never left my cock, and I loved the tightening grip as she held on to me like an anchor to keep her steady.

When she had centered herself again, she squatted down and washed away what lingering soap remained on my shaft and balls. Soon, the cool water was starkly contrasted by her warm, wet mouth when she hefted me from my base with her hand, opened wide, and began to slurp on my silken head. I closed my eyes and enjoyed both the feel of the water through my hair and her soft tongue along the underside of me as she took me deeper in her mouth. When she started bobbing her head, I relished how her soft lips felt as they tugged backwards and forwards across the crown of me. Her tongue swirled under my frenulum while I was in her mouth, and hearing her happy moans just made me harder.

I arched my back and held her head gently. I started to thrust forward, filling her mouth with dick. She held the base of me in her fist and soon added wet strokes with her hand to her gentle slurping. I felt myself widen even more, pressure building inside my pipe with every stroke of her tightening lips over my cockhead.

She stood. It was time to take this to the bed.

You like this.

poke

Ever in the pursuit of shameless fun and frolic (or is it social media peer pressure?), now I can also be found on Facebook.

See the new icon in the right column? Friends and readers of the blog are invited to drop by and "friend" me there, where I'll likely post whatever the Facebook people let me get away with.

See you there!

The beach.

My chest widens, my shoulders broaden, my lungs are swelling as I drink deeply of the scent of you over that of the crashing surf. The faint whisper of patchouli salt from underneath your warm, sandy arms blends with the spray from the sea and I am left transfixed in a moment of pure, feral pleasure. My eyelids close and, unconsciously, I feel them roll back as my most animal nature tightens my face in complete and total bliss. Stars explode in my head.

The breeze cascades the long locks of my hair across your shoulders and face while I hold you close. I breathe deeply, continuing to take your essences in, and the palm of my hand tightens around your belly with my coiling arm. I hold you close. My toes slink deep into cooler layers of sand, and the grit is wonderful between them. I lower my face to your shoulder.

The sun elicits your sweat into a mingling with the coconut oil that glistens on your golden skin. I taste the nape of your neck, sand upon my tongue, your necklace and your bones meeting my tender lips. I harden. I feel my blood swelling into me, lengthening me, thickening me, my heart beating faster to push my life quickly and throbbing into me until I am sliding at the small of your back. I slide along coconut oil and nodules of sand as I hold you closer, tighter, ignoring the grit because to move away would be unthinkable.

I cup your breast in my palm. I rest my head on your shoulder. We watch the gulls and the motion of the waves.