Free Balling (mm)

After landing at Newcastle Airport late yesterday afternoon and a quick stop at my lovely guesthouse by the beach at Seaburn followed by a few pints down the local pub meeting up with Kyle, I had gone to the shop and got myself a few bits and pieces and then turned in. Though my native Denmark is just across the North Sea the two sets of flights from Billund to my beloved North East of England, including the combined travel by bus and Metro to and from the airports, means what is basically a simple enough journey still takes most of a day.


But being back made me feel very happy, always does. And seeing Kyle again is always a pleasure. But the journey is tiring, and an early night was needed.


But it also meant I woke up early the next morning and as always on my first morning back, I got up and quietly left my room and went down to the beautiful beach with dear ol’ pipey packed in my trusted rucksack. I wanted to see the sunrise and as always, I wasn’t disappointed. It was stunning.


I found my usual bench by the old, white-painted iron lighthouse. Most of the benches by the beach had a plaque on them dedicating each bench to someone who has passed on but was still fondly remembered by their dear ones. My bench had the name of a former fighter pilot engraved in its plaque. I didn’t know him, but I have always liked the idea that I share my favourite bench with a local hero.




As always in recent years when back over and watching the beautiful sunrise, I listened to my Lost Love playlist on Spotify once seated on the fighter pilot’s bench. And as Still Loving You kicked in so did my returning, great fondness of where I found myself. It is just about the perfect sunrise song anywhere but especially here on the bench overlooking the beach watching the dawning of a new day. At this very moment I couldn’t be happier. It was pure bliss and I soaked it all in.




With not another soul around yet I sat there for a few moments. Then I reached out for my rucksack, got out the pipe stuff and having stuffed the ol’ pipey nicely I moved my back into the bench, stroke a match and lit the pipe. A few puffs later I had a decent burn going and stretching out my legs in front of me I wondered if Life could get any better.


I sat there for probably twenty or so minutes all on my todd. Then the first dog walker walked past. As usual a friendly Good Morning greeting from one of the locals. It is one of the many reasons why I love the North East of England so much, it is different in many ways but at the same time maybe the closest to home as well. The friendliness knows no boundaries. A good mate of mine living in London once told me he may say Hello to his next-door neighbour if and when he sees him but that he doesn’t actually know his name. Despite living next door to each other for fifteen years. Around the Millennium I visited the English capital, and I know you can’t tell an entire local population by one person alone, of course, but I went on one of the famous red double-decker busses, said Good Morning to the driver. And he just grunted back at me. You wouldn’t find or hear that back home in my native Denmark. And you wouldn’t find or hear it in the North East of England either. Maybe it is a left-over Viking thing, who knows. But I truly believe the more people living together the less friendly they get. Which in so many ways are a shame.


The first dog walker was not long after followed by the second. And as the sunrise went into full mood and my dedicated playlist of songs proved yet again how wonderful it was to be back again, I continued to soak it all up there on the old fighter pilot’s bench by the old, white painted, iron lighthouse.


Staying put for a while yet, after all I was on my holidays and this being my first morning back, I saw no reason to go back to my room at the wonderful guesthouse just yet. I would only go back to sleep anyway. And the sunrise was too beautiful to miss. So, I stayed put and puffed dear, ol’ pipey. The skies turned lighter by what seemed to be by the minute now.


Been coming here for years and though only for a fortnight each late Summer, I still meet local folk on mornings like this that I remember from previous years and who also remember me. One of them is a lovely lad who works in a bank, I think. He walks his beautiful dog very early on the beach each week-end and I had a feeling I would meet them both again this morning. So, last night when I popped by the local shop, I made sure I bought a bag of doggy biscuits for the dog. I began doing that the previous year and after just one morning the dog knew where to go for a wee snack.


Puffing my dear pipe a bit more I noticed in the distance the first runner of the morning approaching. If you are that way inclined it must be wonderfully liberating going for a run this early in the morning, by the beach, at sunrise and all on your own with the chance of meeting many people, if any, being remote.


As the runner came nearer, I could see it was a lad. A rather fit looking one of that, too. No surprise there, I guess, with a hobby like that. When he came closer still, I noticed he was wearing a plain, white top. And a pair of loose fitting, light grey sweatpants. With every step he took his cock swung nicely from side to side inside. It was mesmerising to say the least. And as he got nearer still our andy began to stir a bit in my own Summer shorts. They were loose fit as well and though no-one else was around at this hour of the day it wouldn’t be the easiest task of all to try and hide a possible solid erection should it happen.


-          Morning.


The lad said and gave me a smile as he passed me sitting there on my bench.


-           Morning.


I smiled back, and as he went past me my eyes instantly focused on his arse. Just can’t help myself. With something this good just running past me how am I supposed to just ignore it ?


My eyes kept following him till he was borderline out of distance again and then my focus was interrupted by the wonderfully familiar sound of a dog running up to me. It was the young banker’s dog, of course, and the lovely being seemed to recognize me from the previous years. And last year especially as she went straight for my rucksack looking for her biscuits. It made me smile and feel all warm inside. Dogs are wonderful and this one especially so.


The young banker lad soon followed troop and stopped at the bench, too. It was good to see him again. The both of them. And I reached into my rucksack and found the bag of doggy biscuits, I bought the night before for this very occasion.


As she tucked into her biscuits the banker lad and I had a good catch up on all things happening since I was last over. I do like catching up with people. Well mostly anyway, but this time it was well nice. But eventually the dog ran out of biscuits and not wanting to be responsible for a possibly dodgy tummy I didn’t want to give her the entire bag of goodies. And when she eventually ran out of patience and just sat down in front of me, looking at me in an almost pleading kind of way, the banker lad told her it was time to go.


And off they went again. But not before he asked me how long I was over for this time and if I was back there tomorrow. He left with a smile and for a while after I was still smiling, too. North East locals are just so very friendly. What is not to love about this wonderful place.




Staying put for a bit longer, and lighting dear ol’ pipey again, I continued enjoying myself watching what remained of the sunrise. A fishing boat passed the long pier and paused its way pretty much right in front of me a bit out in the distance. I watched in silence on the bench how they put the gear out into the water. Well. I say in silence, I was still listening to my Lost Love playlist, of course. But it was still a good sign of everything being as they always are, even here almost a year on since my last stay.


And I watched the tiny bin truck go past me and empty all the bins by the beach. As well as noticing the public toilet attendants getting the loos ready for the day and then drive on, too.


And as the place slowly seemed to wake up for the day, I noticed the fit running lad coming back from the other side on his way back. As he got closer, I tried my best not to look at his swinging crotch too much again. Needless to say, I failed. But I think I got away with it.


-          Morning.


The lad said again, as he passed me again, still smiling. God he was fit. And just as before my eyes focused on his arse when he passed me again. Nice buns in those light grey sweatpants.




My first day back over was as glorious and as relaxing as always and time was well spent on catching up with dear friends, some lovely pork pies and plenty of cold pints down the local pub by the beach. And smoking dear ol’ pipey, too of course. It had been a great day all round and when I eventually turned in, I was knackered.


And yet I still woke up right at dawn the next day again.




A quick but wonderfully refreshing shower later I found myself back sitting on the fighter pilot’s bench by the old, white painted iron lighthouse. As morning rituals go this wasn’t too bad at all. In fact, I fail to find a single negative about it full stop.


But arriving at my beloved bench a bit later this morning than I did yesterday I missed the full rise of the sun, it was already more than halfway up when I left the guesthouse and just turned full circle as I found my seat and took out my pipe from my trusted, old rucksack. I seemed to remember, with it being a Sunday, that the young banker lad and his wonderful dog went walkies a bit later than on Saturday mornings. They would probably still walk by and stop for a chat and some biscuits but probably not for another hour or so.


But the fit running lad seemed to have a pretty set routine in place. Not long after I had a decent burn going in dear ol’ pipey to my right I could see him approaching in the distance.


As he got closer, I felt our andy move in my orange Summer shorts. Always a good sign of appreciation.


The lad came closer still. As he did, it was just as noticeable as the day before that he didn’t wear anything underneath his light grey sweatpants. His cock and balls swung as freely and liberated as yesterday morning by each step he ran. It was indeed mesmerising to watch but I forced myself to look away from his dangling crotch the nearer he got to me there on the bench.


-          Morning.


He smiled, as he got within a few metres from me.


-          Morning.


I smiled back, as he passed me again.


Then my focus was straight back on his firm arse as he continued his run along the path between the bench and the beach. I took a deep breath of fresh, early morning sea air. And sighed. As he got further and further out of sight again.


Shortly after, the small bin truck came round again emptying all the bins on its way. And just as it drove off again the toilet attendants were back, too.




Enjoying the morning sun and getting back to puffing dear ol’ pipey again I got the earplugs out of my rucksack as well and found my Lost Love playlist. Thought about picking a different playlist today but somehow that would have seemed wrong. And as Still Loving You filled my ears again, I leaned back into the fighter pilot’s bench and was at pure peace with myself.




About twenty or so minutes later and with no sign of the young banking lad and his wonderful dog yet, I needed a wee and not wanting to leave my rucksack on the bench, despite the public beach toilet being a mere fifty or so metres away, I got my things together, placed the rucksack on my back and headed for the toilets.


Once down the stairs to the underground men’s room it was nice and clean, of course, with the attendants having just been. And I was likely the first person to use the urinals this morning. In some parts the floor was still wet from having just been washed.


There were about ten or so urinal spaces. I picked one near the end of the wall. And pretty much the same time I pulled our andy out of my orange Summer shorts I heard a sound to my left. Someone else was coming down the stairs. To my delight, yet surprise it was the fit running lad…


When he saw me, he smiled, walked along the wall of urinals and stopped at the one right next to me. Turning to the bowl he looked at me:


-          Heading home ?


He said and at the same time pulled his cock out over the top of his light grey sweatpants. I didn’t mean to look but just couldn’t help myself. His cock was just as beautiful as I had imagined.


Taking a wee right next to him made me feel a bit uneasy for some reason, God knows why. But his jolliness and lovely personality made me ease up pretty quick.


-          Yeh… Well back to the guesthouse at least.


I smiled back. And as we both got a good stream going, we didn’t say another word for a few moments. I finished first and as I shook our andy a bit I moved my foreskin back and forth a few times. He noticed that:


-          Nice cock...


He said and gave me another good smile.


-          Cheers.


I smiled back:


-          Yours isn’t bad either.


We both grinned and despite being done with my wee I just stood there with my cock out and began to play with it a bit. The lad finished his wee as well and began to play with his cock, too. For a few moments we just stood there next to each other playing with our cocks. Our andy was getting bigger by the second and before long I was stroking a decent chub-on. I could feel the lad looking at me, so I turned my head and looked him in the eyes. He smiled again and returning it, I then moved my eyes down to his crotch. He was stroking a solid hard-on.


-          Very nice.


I said in a soft, almost whispering voice.


-          You, too...


Then he turned to me and doing the same we now faced each other front to front. Our andy was rock solid as well now. I took a good grip of him and began to stroke myself off a bit harder. Within seconds the lad reached out and cupped my shaved ballsack. It felt good. And not to leave him out I reached out and cupped him as well.


His hairless balls were so smooth, and I really wanted to go down on him and give them a good licking. But I somehow managed to control myself.


Instead, while still cupping him with my left hand, I took my right hand from my own hard cock and reached out and took a hold of his. He moved his own hand away letting me get a good, firm grip. And as I began to stroke him nicely, he reached out his hand and took a firm grip of our andy, too. For a few moments we stood there in front of each other by the urinals wanking each other off. It felt really good and I was getting hornier and hornier by each stroke he took of my hard cock.


He moved closer to me, now standing in cock to cock touching distance. We both upped the speed of our wanking hands on the other’s cock. Looking at his pre-cum making his cock head all moist and glossy, I could almost taste him


-          Am getting close...


I moaned gently. Not having had my usual morning wank yet and feeling the lad’s busy hand up and down my hard cock made me realise I wouldn’t last long.


-          Me, too...


He moaned back.


As I felt my balls pull up, I turned slightly and faced the urinals again. Doing the same but not letting go of our andy he now stood by my side again. Our wanking speed increased a bit more and I knew it would only be a matter of time now.


-          Am gonna cum...


He said, still moaning the nicest way possible but a bit louder.


-          Yeh… Cum… Cum for me...


I was getting a bit out of breath. We both were.


-          Mmmm !


As he shut his creamy load into the urinal in front of him, his firm hand around our andy slowed down to an almost halt. He kept shooting like a right glorious sinner and as I slowed down my firm hand around his cock, I squeezed the last bits of warm cum out of his cock head. It dripped down onto my hand.


-          Nice one.


I said and we both grinned.


-          Your turn.


Then he took a firm grip of my hard cock again and continued where he left, moving his strong hand up and down, harder and harder. The brief pause hadn’t slowed down any of my rapidly building up lust and within about a minute or so I was ready to follow his lead.


-          Fuuuck...


I moaned as I shut my own creamy load into the urinal in front of me, too. The lad kept milking me like he was churning cream into butter, getting every last drop of warm cum out.


Grinningly moments later he swept his now semi hard cock back inside his light grey sweatpants. Still free balling nicely. Our andy also went back inside and we both went to the sinks to wash our hands.


-          Maybe I’ll see you around again.


He said as we walked up the stairs and back out into the open air. Returning his smile as agreement, when we reached the fighter pilot’s bench again, he said his goodbye and off he jogged again. I found my seat on the bench, took out dear ol’ pipey from my trusted rucksack and just as I got a decent burn going, I saw the young banker lad approaching. His wonderful dog had long seen me, too and she was at the bench in no time, instantly taking a seat on the ground. Not in front of me but in front of my rucksack. It was biscuits time. And the beginning of another fine sunny day by the beach.