With summer drawing rapidly to a close, I thought it might be time to return to the sex on the beach discussion. After enjoying some animalistic sex under a pier with The First, I headed for Spring Break my senior year of college single and ready to mingle with guys I didn't know. I left single and having had sex with The Spring Fling. Not exactly what the game plan was but it could be worse I suppose.
You see, The Spring Fling was ( I guess still is) a year younger than I was and was in the group that traveled with us to Florida. He was handsome but not the type of guy I would typically go for. He was fratastic with brown hair and eyes, a nice build that he covered with polos and khaki shorts. I didn't know him all too well before we left for Ft. Lauderdale and to be honest, when we left I didn't know much more about him except he may have been a manwhore as I'm reasonably certain he fucked another girl the night before we had sex on the beach.
Of course, as with most of my college antics, I was hammered with this sexual shenanigan occurred but I'll fill you in the best I can. Unlike the previous excursion on the beach, this one started after a long night of drinking at the bars with our friends. It was our last night in Florida and we partied like it was our last night on Earth. When we got back to the hotel, 8 of us were crammed into a hotel room after losing one of our rooms (long story short, we were fucking out of control). So we changed into pajamas, grabbed more booze and headed down to the beach playground (yes, playground). After an hour or so more of drinking, everyone but The Spring Fling and I headed back up to the hotel room. We wandered on the beach, acting like fools, and once again I somehow ended up being the recipient of a tickling that led to sex (side note, how does that keep happening to me?). 
Suddenly we're rolling around on the towel we had brought down and clothes are pretty much being torn off with haste. This was not like some romantic rendezvous a la Cocktail. In fact, it was short on foreplay and long on hard thrusting. Surprisingly enough, consider the amount of rolling around we did prior to insertion, no sand made it anywhere it shouldn't have been. In fact the sand on your back added another dimension. Made it feel rough and, again, animalistic. It felt like we were so full of lust we would explode from it. There was no though, just action. And it was exhilarating knowing anyone could spot us from down the beach or even their hotel room and would instantly know what we were doing. The likelihood was slim since it was around 3:30 am but not so slim that almost immediately after finishing, we saw flashlights bobbing in our direction. We sprang into action, but since I couldn't seem to locate my pants, my logical conclusion was to run and jump into the ocean. Because what other way can one hide pants than to cover oneself with water and pray the cop doesn't haul you out of the ocean half naked?
Lucky for me, the cop obviously knew a thing or two about drunken college kids. He chastised us for being out on the beach after hours and told us we had ten minutes to make ourselves scarce. So, after he had wandered a ways up the beach, The Spring Fling was nice enough to carry the towel over to me and bundle me up for the walk back to the hotel. We ended the night spooning on a pool float on the floor of the hotel room. Of course since I had no pants, I was forced to wear his boxers. Which meant everyone knew exactly what happened on that stretch of sand...
