By all accounts, it was a perfectly normal, perfectly sunny day with your friends at the beach. At least for them. But for you it was just a little bit different. Your friends didn't have the same kinds of butterflies in their stomachs, nor did they glance up and down the beach, trying to spot the man you had agreed to meet. You didn't know his name, nor his face, and yet you had stupidly said yes when he told you his plans about picking you up and using you. Since you had sent him multiple explicit pictures in your lust drunk stupor the other night, he knew what you looked like and that you would be wearing the uncharacteristically skimpy bikini he had bought for you. But all you knew about him was that he said he'd wear a pair of black swim trunks and green flip flops. It was a busy day and at least one man had matched that rather generic description and had almost sent your heart beating out of your chest. Yet he just walked on by and out of view.
Only when you finally decided to try and relax did you see a pair of green flip flops suddenly stop dead in their tracks right in front of you. Your friends were too busy chatting among one another to notice, but you stared right in the eyes of this stranger that you had offered yourself to. He made a beckoning gesture with his head, then started walking up towards the paved road. Looking nervously at your friends who still didn't seem to notice, you got up and told them you were headed to the bathrooms, trying your best to steady your voice.
The stranger hadn't walked far and was waiting for you. With a smile, he offered you his hand, and he lead you up along the footpath. It seemed almost romantic, at least until he leaned in and whispered "I can't wait to use you like the slut you are". A lot of your instincts told you to get the fuck away from this unknown, crazy situation. Yet enough of your subconscious had been too corrupted by lust, and turned too feral by the lewd words he'd sent you online. So you followed him to the row of porta-potties. Making sure no one would see you enter with him, he ushered you inside one of them.
It was as dirty as one could expect. But the man did not seem phased as he just smiled and looked at you. "Don't you worry. It'll all wash off in the beach showers or in the sea. Now get on your knees for me" He spoke for the second time, and for some reason you feel yourself sink to your knees on the wet, strangely sticky and grimy plastic floor. Some bastion of sanity within your mind tried to tell you that your legs buckled out of fear. But the real you, the feral and embarrassingly horny you knew that you did it out of obedience. And it was obedience and no accidental slip that made you wrap your lips around his cock as soon as he pulled it out of his swim trunks. Salty, either from sweat or from him taking a dip in the sea. But the taste didn't matter. The only thing on your mind was to please.
Not that you had much choice, since he had quickly planted his hand on the back of your head in order to keep you from pulling away from his rapidly hardening cock. He groaned lightly as he thrust into you mouth with more and more intensity, making you slip on the nasty wetness on the floor. You were completely at his mercy as you had to cling to his legs in order not to lose your balance. At the same time he made use of your vulnerable state and thrust deeper into your mouth without you being able to stop him. You were gagging and spitting and struggling, yet he did not hold back. He was smiling the whole time, except for when he took the opportunity to spit on your face as he gave you a much needed break for air. But you were only given a few seconds to gasp in a few breaths of the piss-tainted muggy air before he started using your mouth once again.
This thing went on for what seemed like forever, and you struggled through every second of it. Too distracted by the sensation of his cock violating your mouth and throat to even notice how incredibly wet you were getting. It wasn't until he pulled out and started shooting his hot, sticky cum all over your face that you were struck by a very strange, conflicting sense of emptiness. "Luckily" for you though, he took pity on you and pushed his balls in your mouth and just seemed to stand there and enjoy the moment.
After a while though, he took a step back and aimed his cock at your face and started pissing. Amidst your spluttering he told you in a calm voice "Calm down, just cleaning you up, sweetheart. Didn't wanna make you walk out there with cum all over your face. People might think you're a whore" All the while, he kept on pissing, aiming down your chest once he had finished washing the cum off your face.
When he finally finished, he just stood there and looked up at you as you tried to stammer out a few words to him. It felt like the whole thing had ended just as abruptly as it started. "I...Is that it?" And he just laughed at you "What, you want more? You really want me to fuck you in this nasty fucking porta potty, bent over and staring down into that. What a nasty fucking slut you are" He said and pointed towards the dark pit of vileness within the toilet paper strewn seat. Then he patted you on the head as he unlocked the door "Maybe next time, if you wanna be a good slut for me again" Those were his last words to you before he slipped out and left you there, dirtied, used and shamefully aroused.
