thinking about my cis friends inviting me to a nudist beach. for the first time in years i’m not gendered by my clothing, my softened face, or my carefully trained voice.
gender and pronouns at a nudist beach are so easy, i hear someone joke. “you don’t need to worry about offending anyone,” she laughs, seemingly without a shred of awareness. i realize suddenly i have found myself far from the world of passing and presentation and “name and pronoun rounds”.
one of my friends chides another, “of course you can look at people’s bodies, you moron, just don’t stare!”
all it takes now is little glance, and people know. every laughing, beaming, nervous, brave person stepping out of their comfort zone and trying something new, wordlessly sharing in the joy of feeling free and the excitement of doing something so vulnerable, they’re all nervous about the same thing, about people seeing what they have. penises and pussies. but in truth, nobody minds all that much. i overhear a stranger telling her friend as much, “look, every other woman here’s in the same position as you. bush or no bush, we’ve all got the same bits!”
all bodies are natural and beautiful, my friends remind me, sensing my nerves. even mine. but walking side by side with them, suddenly i’m overhearing whispers from strangers.
“doesn’t he have the most incredible smooth skin?”
“oh my god, the butt on that guy”
“aww, he has such a pretty little face”
i hear one woman giggle, “you’d almost mistake him for a girl if he didn’t have that.
a couple of times girls approach me with a glimmer in their eyes, asking me how i get my hair looking so soft. one of my cis girl friends smiles and replies, “he’s blessed, isn’t he?”
i’m stunned. more stunned when i ask and discover she didn’t say it by mistake. “aw, i’m so sorry, babe,” she says, sincerely. “i didn’t think it was right for me to just out you, you know?”
my silence makes her uncomfortable and she continues. “if i say she, people are going to...” i can hear her struggling not to mention my penis. “with what people are saying today, about you, i thought it might be simpler for you.”
my friends are just looking out for me. they have decided that today it’s best for me to just be a boy. something about that fact, the fact that here, naked, i am just a boy, that my boyness is so admired and even coveted here, that no matter how feminine my other parts might be, my maleness is undeniable, unhideable, swelling... i notice myself swelling suddenly. i cover myself, try to make it look natural.
“boy problems,” i hear a woman laugh to her friend as they walk past. i fall to my knees in the sand. i can’t even look up.
my friend tries to reassure me, “it’s okay, precious, it’s perfectly natural.” my heart is racing. “it’s your first time. it’s normal for it to have an effect on some gu- some… on some people. i know it’s embarrassing, but… do you wanna go and take care of yourself in the bathroom? no one will see.”
she offers to walk me over to the public bathroom and i accept, walking directly behind her to give myself as much chance of hiding it as possible. it doesn’t help that i’ve got the perfect naked female curves of her butt to look at the whole time.
by the time we approach the bathrooms my girldick is completely stiff. my heart races as she walks me towards the bathroom with FEMALE painted on the brick beside the entrance. i almost panic and refuse, but i can sense i’ve been through enough humiliation for one day, and having to go into the male bathroom might just break me. despite her blatant misgendering of me earlier, she must sense that too. but she seems oblivious to the danger i’m walking into, and it takes all my strength to follow her in.
she enters the change rooms naked and immune with the undeniable femaleness of her body, no balls beneath the roundness of her butt, nothing but smooth tummy and pubic hair on her front. the bathroom is mercifully empty. i like to think she would have shown some caution if it hadn’t been, but she leads me in without seeming to share in any of my terror. despite it being empty, having my hard penis hanging there inside a place designated FEMALE feels like a disgusting violation.
my friend gestures lightly toward the two cubicles. “do you want me to stay here or wait outside?” she asks. my face goes hot.
“outside,” i say as briefly as i can. the thought of my friend hearing me masturbate might have had some appeal under other circumstances, but after the day’s endless humiliation i just wish i could vanish into the floor. i step inside the cubicle and hear the sound of her bare feet on the wet concrete as she leaves, mingled with the sound of new footsteps coming in, giving me just enough time to slam the door behind me. it’s an old door and i see that there’s no lock. i stand there holding the door, gritting my teeth. with a couple of shoves i’m able to jam it into place without the need of a lock, but it’s not ideal.
at this point i notice i’m so wet that it’s left a trail of stickiness from the tip of my penis to my tummy. the two girls who’ve entered are talking loudly, almost yelling in the echo of the bathroom.
“…like he was so polite, and it was a fair enough, but like”
“there’s the timing, right? like i’m not gonna walk in first thing when i get home and just start telling him to…”
it’s loud enough that there’s no way anybody would overhear me slicking myself. my heart speeds up. i’m about to masturbate in the girls’ bathroom because my cis female friend told me to. surely that’s okay, right? nobody wants to see someone walking around the beach with a hard-on. it’s only polite, i tell myself. there’s no way i can go back out anyway, not like this.
i start stroking and try to tune out the yelling. with how hard i am it’s clear it won’t take me long. naked, glistening, and rubbing myself off in such a naturally male motion while women talk naked nearby in a place nobody without a vagina is meant to be, it’s impossible for me not to feel like a boy. i can feel myself twitching, about to go over the edge.
“hang on,” i hear one of the girls say. i freeze. i’m so close but i let go of my dick and bend over on the toilet as much as i can to cover myself as her footsteps near. right as i think she’s about to burst through the door the sound of the next cubicle door creaking makes me inhale audibly. she sits down naked on the plastic seat and her stream is so heavy i decide i can get away with finishing. i’m too close. my fingers are so slick and i pump away with impunity knowing she won’t hear. i’m ready to finish myself.
the door is shoved open in front of me and the woman squeals an apology, backing out, noticing before i have a chance to cover it what exactly i have between my legs.
“oh. oh my god,” she stammers.
“i’m sorry,” i say through the orgasm that finally washes over my helpless, twitching body as she watches. it’s too late and my cum spurts onto to the floor between us.
“oh my god, there’s a boy. there’s a boy in here touching himself.”
i almost tell them i’m a girl, but there’s no point. like my friends have already decided, i’m a boy here.
“get the FUCK OUT. NOW. this is a FEMALE bathroom, get OUT you disgusting male.”
still hard, i bolt out, completely failing to cover my still dripping, twitching cock. tears are welling in my eyes. my friend catches me, having just heard the commotion, and quickly leads me away.
“in here,” she says, doing me a favour and sending me into the male bathroom. “go clean yourself up. quick.”
