I really didn’t want to spend a day at the beach. I have never been much of a swimmer, and lying in the sun was just so boring. Needless to say, I had a fairly average body, tall, slim, and not particularly muscular. But Beth, my wife, had promised to help her sister with the last of the redecoration of her sister’s house, so I was stuck with the kids for the day, and they badly wanted to go to the beach. I decided to make a small sacrifice. I was not going to regret it.

Driving to the beach was bad enough to make me regret my decision even before we got there. It was a very warm day, and the car had been in the sun, so it was hotter than hell when we started. With all the windows wide open, it was still hot.

The boys were overly excited and just talked and talked and talked. Picture yourself in a hot car with two boys, 9 and 11 years old, talking to you all the time. Combine that with fairly heavy traffic and a strong aversion to going to the beach in the first place, and you have the kind of mood I was in.

If Dan and Alex had started fighting, I would have exploded. Fortunately, they were too excited about going to the beach to start fighting. They were good at fighting, though. If you have had two boys with only a little under two years between them, then you know how much they fight. Dan and Alex were no exception.

But they were also the best mates in the world. It was only a thin line between being best friends and hating each other’s guts.

We arrived safely at the beach. I always picked a beach a little farther away from town because it was less crowded than the Flypaper, north of town. Going there was bad enough; sitting or lying like herring in a barrel was unbearable.

It was pure luck that I picked that particular spot to settle. I mean, I picked it because there was a good view over the beach so I could watch the boys in the water. It was some 30 feet from the waterline and a little higher than the surrounding area.

The boys rushed into the water as soon as we had put down our stuff. I didn’t feel like going in, and it was also easier for me to keep an eye on them from land. So I sat down on the blanket and did nothing except keep an eye on the boys and let my thoughts wander freely.

I didn’t pay much attention to the people around me at first, but when a young woman walked into my view on her way down to the water, I noticed.

It was hard to tell how old she was. She might have been anything from 14 to 17.

She was very slim and not very tall. Her blond hair was shoulder-length. She was wearing a light blue bikini bottom and nothing else.

Just as she came into view, she stopped and turned to say something to her mother, who was lying only 10 feet from where I was. My god, that girl was pretty. She was young, her waist slim, and her hips were excessively wide, not fat, but a big thigh gap, giving her a ridiculously exaggerated hourglass figure. My eyes were drawn to her breasts. Handful, firm breasts, high on her chest, pointing straight out without any sign of influence from gravity. She only stood there for a second or two, but I was lost.

I followed her with my eyes every step of her way to the water. I saw, to my delight, that she walked to the same spot where my kids were playing in the water. I watched her walking into the waves, turning her back to the big ones. She shivered as the cold sea water washed over her hips and tummy for the first time. Every move she made was so light, so elegant, so nymph-like.

I could stare at her without being embarrassed because my own kids were next to her. She dove under, getting up again quickly, and although I couldn’t see it, I was sure her small nipples had become hard in the relatively cold water. Just as a precaution, I lay down on my stomach. I could feel my cock moving, and I didn’t want to be sporting a raging hard-on in my shorts, sitting up.

There was nothing unusual in topless girls or women on the beach. It’s very common in Denmark. Her mother was topless as well. She too was attractive, but it was different. I mean, I have seen a lot of tits and there was nothing special about her tits. Nice shape, only sagging a little and with beautiful, brown aureolas topped with big nipples, but it was nothing special. Her daughter, on the other hand, was very special. Girls that age were often embarrassed by the newly formed features on their chests and were less likely to go topless on the beach.

She didn’t stay in the water very long. I watched as she walked towards me, her tits hardly moving as she walked. As she got closer, I could see I was right about her nipples. They were hard. She walked close by me, so close I could see small drops of water on her skin.

She lay down on her tummy next to her mother, facing me. I was afraid she would spot me if I looked too directly at her, so I had to steal glimpses of her every now and then. I wished I had a pair of sunglasses with reflecting glass, like one-way mirrors. But I was nearsighted and had prescription sunglasses with fairly ordinary glass. Anyway, she just lay there, tanning, for some time, so I concentrated on keeping an eye on my own kids.

Finally, the boys got tired or cold and came out of the water, too. They sat down in the sand in front of me and began to build a sandcastle. It was no problem looking after them now, so I got my book and began to read. But my concentration was nowhere to be found. Every other minute, my eyes drifted to the young girl. I guess I hoped she would turn over and let me see those magnificent tits again.

My prayers were heard. She raised herself on her elbows and began to dust some sand off her tits. The way her breasts quivered when she brushed them with her hand was breathtaking. She spent a long time brushing her chest and breasts. Probably without thinking about it, she caressed her left tit a little, running her hand around it and flipping her finger over her nipple a couple of times. It looked so sexy, yet still very innocent. I don’t think she really knew why she did it. She was just in the phase of discovering how sensitive her tits were.