Well, let’s not get too carried away here!
Does drinking the drink “sex on the beach” count?
Cape Cod many places, no really bad expierences except for this one. Coast Guard beach, if I recall correctly. Just before dark, 2 couples. Our friends were about 200 yards off and since he is a minute man, they were running around naked just being stupid, since I hadn’t seen my old lady (all of 19yrs then) for 2 weeks we were talking and teasing each other. We start going at it, I’m on top looking over occasionaly to check my friends girlfriend out, of course running around naked. Up the beach comes a little old lady and her dog. She stops since there are two clearly crazy, though amazingly absolutely sober people running around naked. At this point I was too busy to notice much of anything until there was a cold wet dog nose trying to find its way to my mouth through the back door. Needless to say, I jumped slightly and the end result was one really red old lady and 4 naked teenagers laughing their ass off.
I would say that was the worst, time has a way of eroding the memories of the lost keys and sand burns, the rest of it was a lot of fun.
We had the best of both worlds. Years ago, out in California “somewhere just south of Half Moon Bay”.
A “friend of a friend” showed us how to get to a cave. We were told it was a gunnery cave left over from WWII, set up in case of Japanese invasion. You got into it by crawling through a tunnel. The cave was big enough to lay down two sleeping bags, dry, with a dirt!! floor–no sand. It opened on a cliff over a sandy beach. You could look out over the ocean, hear the waves, smell the shore smells. And when you were 17 & newly married in the late sixties…well…you could get higher than a kite and enjoy yourself immensely. On occasion, someone else got to the cave before us, and then we had to camp out on the beach.
Sand beach
Wild grass beach
Pebble beach
Cobble beach
Slate beach
Granite beach
Ice floe beach
Frank Zappa: Do you ever find fish blood on the sheets of your beds here?
Mr Tickman: Not identifiable as such, no…
FZ: I see. Do you know any stories about, uh, bizarre sexual activities performed with squid, octopus, and Mudsharks here in your rooms?
Mr Tickman: No . . . I should think a Mudshark could be a little uncomfortable, since its skin is so sandy…
– Zappa’s “Mudshark Interview” with the front office manager at the Edgewater Inn in Seattle
You know, I thought of that after I posted it Already in Use. I found it funny.
Often.
Horny teens living on the coast = lots of beach sex.
Lots of sex in the water, in the dunes, in the backseat in the beach carpark, on his towel, on my towel, out past the break, in the shallows, under water (very quickly 
) etc… Yep, lots of sex on the beach.
Sounds like a lot of you aren’t familiar with, or never owned, one of those beach rafts that’s shaped like an inflatable air mattress. Solves a world of problems. 
Often
Living on the coast afforded many opportunites.
Fortunately, Olive shares this passion. We have a secluded spot where we go - it’s a mile and a half walk on shifting sand, but definately worth it. No suits needed - and we can do it whenever we want. Added benefit - no need to keep looking for people strolling by - you can concentrate on the task at hand.
(Reluctantly posting this since, although I’m not elderly, I am past the age where hip young people find it perfectly acceptable to reverse their stomachs at the though of me having sex)
Many years ago, on a MUD beach (oh youthfull, wanton abandon!). Upon awakening under a sky filled with stars, we found ourselves surrounded by thousands of bright green gloworms.
That’s no glo-worm!
Tried to in a seemingly deserted stretch of beach on North Carolina’s Outer banks.
We were suddenly visited by a group of birdwatchers (with binoculars! no less) who were drawn to the group of sea gulls who thought it would be fun to dive bomb us while we tried to have a romantic interlude.
All in all a thoroughly dissapointing attempt.
Plenty of make-out experiences on the beach here.
But only one through-and-through sexual experience on the beach.
3 am in the morning, behind one of those huge wooden boxes that they lock the umbrellas in at night. Lots of alcohol and excitment was involved (we had just met 3 hours prior in a bar)
and it was passionate indeed.
About 15 minutes after insertion, she got sand in her eyes and started crying. Everything stopped cold. We had a bottle of water, so were able to wash her eyes out, but it was pretty much impossible to get the mood back, so we went skinny dipping in the frigid water, went back to the bar for a few beers, and then bade farewell.
Final opinion: Overrated, and only for the movies.
Took the virginity of a young hitchhiking Yorkshireman in Bodega Dunes, California years ago.
Are you out there, Cliff?
Junior year at University, my GF and I had saved up some money. With the help of her parents and mine, we booked a trip to Aruba. The winds there turn the shoreline into a sandblaster most of the day, so people stick near the pools around the hotels. One morning it was calm, so we took our drinks and our blankets to the beach. We rubbed each other down with sunscreen, then realized no one else was around. We dared each other to drop our swimsuits, which (of course) required more sunscreen for our sensitive areas. One thing led to another. Being slightly buzzed and anesthetized by sex, we did not realize that sand had been sticking to the sunscreen.
We spent the next two days icing down burns and swelling from that morning. The combination of oil, fine sand, and friction was real bad (for her more so than me). Shoulda stayed in the damn hotel room from the start.
If you are ever on Big Bay beach on Madeline Island in the Apostle Islands chain of islands in Lake Superior, you should know that there is a nature trail that goes along the whole beach. And at parts, from the beach, you can’t see the nature trail or the people on it, but they can see you. And they can see you well enough that they can recognize you that night. At the bar. And they can announce what they saw. Loudly. To a bunch of complete strangers.
Yep, almost anywhere else better. Plus everything tastes like salt.
Although on a cool night, low tide near the water (no loose sand) a small fire and a bottle of wine. The quilts spread out under a starry sky with just me and she, sounds nice.
In the sea, just once. We were floating and frolicking as you do. She wrapped her legs around me. I pushed her bikini bottom aside and sort of let the waves rock us. Then it got too urgent to just let the waves do it. We got off offshore!
Sand.
Horse flies.
'Nuff said.