Seduction by the Seashore

by: Cornishrugby

Chapter One

The September sky, usually steel gray and dull this time of year, was clear and bright. As John lazily pedaled his bike towards the football field, he glanced up at the broad stretch of blue pocked with fluffs of white.

He smiled, feeling the warmth on his face. Then he sighed – it was simply too splendid of a day to be spend on the muddy field behind the school, practicing the same drills and patterns over and over. Too bad he’d chosen to practice on this particular day of all days.

But then his smile widened. After all, he thought, it was indeed he had done the choosing. Him – the duly elected captain of the team. The lads hadn’t wanted to practice today, but he’d insisted. The tournament was too soon to dawdle, and they had a real chance this year.
But John had an idea, and a very good one at that.

He was the last to arrive at the practice field, and the boys didn’t seem altogether happy to see him. None came right out and said so, of course. At well over six feet tall, and every inch of him thick with sinewy muscle, John was an intimidating young man. Not many – even among his friend – had the nerve to challenge him most of the time. But he could sense their mood. They’d probably been hoping he’d forgotten about this, their fifth practice of the week.

Their mood changed instantly when John announced his idea. “Lads, it’s just too nice a day too practice here, isn’t it?”

That was met with nods and grunts of agreement.
“Well, then … bring the balls and grab some towels. We’re headed to the beach!”
The cheers of his teammates were deafening. John laughed out loud, hoping the boys would be as enthusiastic facing the opposition during the first game of the tournament.

Chapter Two
John’s idea turned out to be a smashing success for more reasons than one. The sand was cool and deep; as the boys ran across the white beach, diving for the ball and struggling to pull each other to the ground, their legs were exercised in ways impossible to achieve on a practice field. More importantly, their morale by the end of the afternoon was sky high: covered in sheen of sweat, bronzed a light copper by the late summer sun, they looked healthy, eager, and ready to conquer the world.

In fact, there had only been one thing to distract the team: the girls. Lots of girls. Young girls, beautiful girls, stretched out languorously on multi-colored towels, scattered about the beach like delectable seashells. And the young men, their bodies Herculean in their perfection, attracted quite a crowd of nubile female admirers. The team ate up the attention, loving every glance and each wink and wave.

John paid little attention. He was used to the fawning of the females, and he was a highly disciplined boy. All that mattered was the practice and tournament.

But there was this one girl … just one … that managed to distract him more than a bit.
He’d noticed her right away. She was alone, lying on a towel not far from the end of the make shift field they’d drawn in the sand, bordered by their shirts and shoes. The girl was young – how young he couldn’t tell – but not so young that she had no curves. Her skin was pale, creamy, as if it were seeing the sun for the first time that day; her hair was strawberry blond, short, tied-back in two pigtails; her eyes were hidden by a pair of dark sunglasses.

John first noticed her … because unlike the rest of the girls, she was very pointedly not noticing him. It was not like she was ignoring him and his mates; it was as if she simply hadn’t noticed – as if she had more interesting things to look at. Throughout the practice, she lay there in a far-too-small pink bikini, a little swath of fabric that barely covered her secret places, with her nose buried in a book.
John stared – while trying not to get caught staring. She was tiny, this girl. Frail, almost, yet she had an aura of strength. Even lying down, he could tell that she was very small, probably not even five feet in height, nowhere close to a hundred pounds. She was slender, her stomach flat, faintly rippled with muscle, her legs taut and lean.

She looked like a tasty treat, a bit of candy waiting to be tasted, something sweet and delectable. A little bit of sugar to toss into his mouth.
But she seemed to have no interest in the boys. Must be an interesting book! John mused, glancing at her again out of the corner of his eye.

And then … and then he got her attention, and almost wished he hadn’t!

Chapter Three
The practice was winding down and the boys were getting rowdy, but John didn’t mind. The girl, the little angel on the blanket, had at last distracted him. Which is why he should have been able to prevent what happened next?

“Go out long, John!” yelled Randy, the best thrower on the team.

John sprinted down the beach, forgetting everything but the leather ball spiraling towards him. At the last minute, he dove, reaching out, grasping at the slick ball with his strong fingertips …
… and tripped over the mysterious girl, landing with a thud almost right on top of her, kicking sand all over her towel.
The girl shrieked. “Oh, look what you’ve done now!”
John stood up, brushing himself off. He looked at her sheepishly. She was covered in sand. It clung to her body, mixed with the shiny oil covering her skin, turned into muddy, messy glue.
“I’m so sorry!” John said.
“You should be!” the girl said haughtily. “Do you know how expensive that oil is?”
Tongue-tied, John shook his head, then clumsily reached to try to brush her off.
“Don’t touch me, you oaf!” the girl said, her voice angry and sharp.
“Oh – sorry! Just trying to help!”
“Don’t help. Just go away while I go wash myself of. I’ll deal with you later, and you better believe you’ll be sorry then!”
The little spitfire of a girl stomped away in a huff, headed towards the crashing waves. John watched her go, marveling at her near-perfect body, the tiny bikini clinging for dear life to her supple flesh.
She was stunning to look at – but he was smarting from her vicious mouth. And he had to admit feeling a tiny tremor of fear. What had she meant when she said she’d make him sorry?
With an effort, John tried to clear his mind of the lusty confusion that swirled there, and headed back towards his teammates. Practice resumed, though John had never been so distracted in his life.

Chapter Four
“Great, job, lads,” John announced after another hard hour of practice. “Now let’s break out the beer and hit the showers. Or in this case, let’s hit the sea!” Leading the pack, he stripped down to his Speedos and ran towards the water.
The young men splashed and wrestled in the cold sea, rinsing off their hard-earned sweat. After a few minutes, they began to swim out to sea, racing each other good-naturedly. John was a powerful swimmer, long and lean, and he quickly outdistanced the rest of the team. By the time he lifted his head and stood in the shallow surf, the other lads were already back on the beach, drinking beer and building a bonfire. John had swum so far he was a good quarter-mile down the beach. Smiling at his own skill and strength, John began walking towards the shore, towards his waiting friends.
Suddenly, something cold and wet and hard spattered against his back. As he turned, it came again, a thudding impact on his chest and shoulders, sand and rock and seaweed splattering against the side of his face.
He turned angrily.
It was the girl, she of the near-perfect curves and the tiny pink bikini. She was standing there behind him, hands on her hips, looking at him with a wry twinkle in her eyes. Eyes that he could now see; she’d left her sunglasses on the beach. They were pale blue, intense, looking at him challengingly.
“What’d you do that for?” John growled.
The still nameless girl giggled at him, pointing at the mucky mess dripping off his shoulders. “Told you I’d make you sorry for ruining my day at the beach! Ha! What are you going to do about it, anyway? Going to let a little girl like me make a fool out of a big strong thing like you?”
Her laughter grated on John, her mirth stabbing at his ego. “You’d better just hush, girl!” he said, his voice low and threatening.
She just laughed harder. “Or what?” she asked, almost daring him to do something. “I’m not scared of you, you big oaf!” The girl turned to walk away.
John was suddenly enraged. Charging like a bull moose in heat, he grabbed the girl from behind, pinning her to his chest with his strong arms. Her small bottom was pressed against his crotch, and he could feel her tight flesh beneath her bikini bottoms as she struggled against him. Even in his anger, he was powerfully aroused.
Even as she struggled, the girl giggled again. “Uh, oh! I think somebody likes me!” She intentionally rubbed her bottom against his swelling hardness.
John put his mouth close to her small ear and whispered. “Look little girl! I said I was sorry and I am! Now stop bothering me!”
“Or what?” she whispered back fiercely.
“Or else I’ll make you the sorry one!”
She giggled. “Oh – really?”
Rather than reply, John just tensed his muscles, squeezing her hard for a moment, letting her have a small taste of his strength.
The girl held her breath for a moment, and then exhaled as John relaxed. But she didn’t stop giggling. “Oh – you think you’re strong, huh?”
“I know I am,” he replied, confident in the power of his muscular young body.
That confidence faded instantly as he felt the girl’s thin arm snake backwards, her small hand tracing a trail up his thigh, searching for something. Searching for his hardness, now throbbing between the cheeks of her taut ass. When her hand found what it was seeking, John began to tremble, his knees weakening.
“Uh, oh! Looks like you’re not all that strong after all!” she said.
As John’s grip on the slippery little girl began to loosen, her hand slid beneath the waistband of his bathing suit, finding the bare flesh of his swollen cock. Her tiny fingers could barely fit around his shaft. Her hand was liquid smooth, warm and wet, and as she started to stroke him slowly, the sensation was mind-bogglingly pleasurable.
But at the same time, that mysterious weakness moved through his thick frame. After a few moments, he had to release the girl – but she didn’t release her grip on him! Her hand moved faster now, teasing him, stroking him, as he fell to his knees in the shallow water.
“What are you …?” John murmured, confused and helpless as the waves splashed around him. “What are you doing to me?”
The girl stood over him, bending down so she could continue to touch his long, thick manhood. She grinned at him, those pale blue eyes just inches from his face. “I’m teaching you a little lesson about who is the strong one here!”
Her hand suddenly moved faster, and John fell backwards, the water washing over his face. The girl’s hand finally ceased its magic, and she pulled him up out of the water, rescuing him as if he were drowning, and helpless kitten.
With a final laugh, the girl leaned close and whispered in his ear. “Meet me at the squash court tonight at sundown. We’ll continue this conversation then!”
As she released him, he fell back into the water, still too weak to stand. He managed to struggle to his knees and watch her walk away.
“But … but who are you?” he yelled after her. “What is your name?”
She turned back to him, her eyes bright. “I’m Susan. And you’re John. And our lessons are not yet finished.”
“How did you know my name?” he asked baffled.
Her smile was almost cruel. “Just be at the squash court by seven tonight, John. You’ll learn that … and much more. Don’t be late!”

Chapter Five
When John finally regained his strength, the sun was already beginning to set in the western sky. He would have to hurry to make his appointment with this mystery girl, this little creature who both angered and fascinate him, who somehow had managed to defeat his near invincible strength.
He rushed homeward, ignoring the puzzled questions from his friends. After a quick change of clothes, he sped to the squash courts by the school, arriving just minutes before their scheduled rendezvous.
She was waiting. And she was in no mood for small talk.
As soon as he stepped on the court, she announced: “No talking. Time for talk later. Just hit the ball. Let’s see if you’re any better at squash than you are at swimming and wrestling!”
John just grunted at her challenge, but he was smiling to himself. He was an excellent squash player; in fact, he excelled at all racquet sports. As he smashed his first ball against the wall, a wicked slicing stroke that he knew she’d never return, he was supremely confident.
And he was right – at first. For the first several points, he decimates the little girl, leaving her running after his shots, gasping for breath.
But he hadn’t counted on that mysterious power of hers, that ability to sap his strength and will. A power she started to use halfway through their game.
It began with subtle gestures. A flip of the hair, a wiggle of the hips. Susan was dressed all in white, her cotton shirt tight against the small buds of her breasts, her pleated skirt far too short. Her legs were spectacular: slender but powerful, well-defined by taut muscle. She was tan everywhere, and he was entranced as he watched her move about the court.
She made a point of bending over far more than was necessary to pick up a ball, and John caught a glimpse of her pure white panties, hugging the flesh of her pert bottom. Just that glance was enough to weaken him: on the next point he could barely lift his racquet, and she beat him easily.
Susan knew exactly what she was doing, too. “Ha!” she said. “Looks like I’m starting to get to you!”
John gathered his strength and won the next point easily. But then as they were switching sides of the court, Susan bumped against him with her hip. He could feel her through the thin skirt, her leg warm and supple.
He lost three points in a row.

Chapter Six
The game rapidly went downhill from there.
In the middle of the next point, Susan reached out with her free hand and gently touched the front of his shorts. She lost the point as a result … but John’s entire body suddenly went weak.
She won the next two points, as John struggled to even move.
When they took a break for a sip of water, she stepped close to him.
“You’re not doing so well all of a sudden!” Susan said, giggling.
John nodded ruefully. “I know.”
“Maybe this will help!” She quickly reached in his pants, finding his cock already hard. She wrapped her fingers around him and wanked him for a moment or two.
The racquet fell from John’s hands, and he was too weak to stop her. He didn’t really want to, anyway.
“Oh, God!” he moaned.
Susan giggled and pulled her hand away. Without warning, she served the ball. It bounced at John’s feet, and his slow swing didn’t come close to hitting it.
“My point!” Susan said triumphantly.
In fact, John was beyond caring much about the game, and he’d already won his last point of the day. Although he’d been far ahead in the match, Susan beat him easily now. He tried to chase her shots, but he was simply too weak.
And each time he started to gain a little strength, she paused to give him a squeeze, her hand teasing his cock, kneading his firm flesh.
By the time he lost the final point of the match, he couldn’t even lift his racquet above his waist.
When the game was over, Susan raised her arms in victory, laughing at him.
“Oh, John!” she said. “I thought you were supposed to be an athlete!”
He just glared at her, angry but helpless.
“You cheated!” he growled.
“Hmmm. Maybe I did, just a bit. Well, is there anything you know you can beat me at?”
“Ha! You’re so little; I could beat you at anything!”
She tilted her head to the side, considering that. “Well … how about wrestling?”
John laughed, his confidence returning. “You’re joking. Look at me!” He flexed his arms, so thick they looked like the trunks of young trees. “I could break you into pieces,” he said.
“We’ll see, I guess. Let me help you to my car.”
He leaned on the girl and limped to the parking lot. A troubling thought occurred to him. If he could barely walk, how could he defeat her in a wrestling match?

Chapter Seven
In the car, he looked over at her. “Where are we going?”
She smiled. “To my house, silly. I think it’s time to settle this, once and for all. You seem to think you’re some kind of wrestler. I’m going to teach you the truth!”
John’s strength was finally returning and his usual arrogance was beginning to show itself. “Fine by me!” he declared.
When they arrived at her home, she led him into a room in the back.
“Do you live alone?” he asked.
“No – I still live with my parents. But they’re in France on holiday, so we won’t be disturbed.”
Good thing, he thought, as she led him into a strange room in the back. It was like small gym or a martial arts dojo. The floor was covered in rubber mats and the walls were lined with mirrors.
“What is this place?” he asked.
“This,” she said, smirking at him, “is where I bring my victims, all the boys who think they’re so tough!”
“Ah! So you’ve done this before!”
“A time or two!”
“And you’ve never lost?”
“Not even close. And don’t forget – I’ve already beaten you twice already. This will be easy!”
John smiled. “Oh – I don’t think so. Let’s get started!” He reached for her to grab her.
She held out a hand, stopping him. “Not so fast. Time to get out of those sweaty clothes!”
“Huh?”
“In my house, we wrestle naked, like the ancient Olympians did. It makes it harder to find something to hold onto!”
John hesitated for a moment.
“Are you scared?” she taunted.
“Not even close!” he replied, turning around and beginning to strip.
When he turned back, she was already completely naked, as was he. He looked at their images in the mirror, side by side, and laughed.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“Well, look at us!” he said, pointing. “Look how small and weak you are compared to me!”
She turned to look in the mirror, conceding that he had a point. The boy towered over her. She looked small and frail next to him. His legs were thick and powerful, his muscles rippling and shining with sweat, his shoulders broad and lined with sinew. His arms were almost as thick as her slender waist, and the top of her head barely reached to the middle of his chest.
“Fair enough, John. You certainly look strong. But you don’t even have a chance.”
“How can that be?”
“Well … just look at me, John.”
He looked at her.
“No … look lower. Look at my breasts.”
His gaze fell to her chest, to her bare tits, each small but perfect. Her nipples were dark pink, upturned and pointing towards the ceiling, her breasts swaying gently as she breathed.
“Now look lower, John. Between my legs.”
He did as she asked, drinking in her beauty with his eyes. She was pink there, too, smooth and hairless.
Suddenly, his cock began to stiffen. He was quickly rock-hard, his member slapping against his flat stomach.
And just like that, the weakness returned.
Susan giggled. “Feeling not so strong now, John? Sensing my power?
Enraged once again, John charged.
He wrapped his arms around the girl, wanting to really hurt her this time, to crush the life out of her.
But instead of squirming away, she reached out and pulled herself towards him. Her small breasts were pressed against his chest, her nipples sliding against his skin. Her little pussy, warm and wet, brushed against his thigh, leaving a trail of moisture.
John gasped out loud as his lust overcame him. He reached for her, suddenly eager to take her, to slide himself into her.
But then she danced away easily. “This is a wrestling match not a dance, John. Come and get me!” She pouted at him, and then blew him a kiss, licking her cherry lips.
Still weak from the feel of her flesh, John charged again. And again, she spun away, this time sliding her hand against his cock as she moved.
He almost ejaculated from that single touch, her hand almost mystical in its power.

Chapter Eight
The match was over before it really began.
“John … I thought you were a wrestler!” she taunted.
“I am!” he insisted, grabbing her in a half-nelson hold from behind.
“But … look how easily I escape your holds!” she said. John held her tightly from behind, preparing to throw her to the mat, but before he could her hand found his hardness again, staying there this time, stroking him eagerly.
She escaped with ease.
And then she went on the offense. She jumped towards him, grabbing his cock with one hand and his arm with the other. As her fingers caressed his throbbing prick, she grabbed him and flipped him to the ground easily.
He landed on his back with a thud. Susan dropped to her knees, straddling him, her wet pussy grinding against his stomach, her hand now stroking him faster and faster.
John tensed, his muscles rippling, but he couldn’t even lift his head.
Susan laughed as John’s orgasm neared. “Have I defeated you?” she asked.
“No!” he said with the last ounce of defiance in his soul.
“Oh, really? Watch this!”
She stood and walked away, leaving him there. He still couldn’t even sit up. On a small shelf by the door, Susan found two small pebbles. She grabbed them and returned.
“John, you are so weak now, that these little rocks will hold you down!” She shoved him roughly onto his back, pushed his arms against the floor, and placed a single pebble in each palm.
Then she sat back on her knees, her small breasts dangling not far from John’s cock.
“Now, John. If you can just get up … if you can just lift those pebbles … you can do anything you want to me. Anything at all!”
With a single finger, she teased his cock. And waited to see if John could find his strength.

Epilogue
He looked the pebbles and willed his arms to move.
They didn’t. Not an inch. He could bench press 300 pounds, do a hundred press-ups with ease … but as this little girl gently massaged his cock with one finger, he found he couldn’t lift these tiny pebbles.
He was absolutely helpless.
As his body sagged and weakened, as the pleasure defeated his will, as he felt warmth of her wetness against his thigh and the soft paradise of her hand against his cock, John’s consciousness left him and the world faded to gray and then black …