Friday, April 27, 2012

Beach Story



Michael got off work from the graveyard shift working as a dispatcher at an oil company. 7:00 AM and the sun was already warm on his skin as he walked to his rusty old Chevy Nova with two surfboards on the roof rack; the two gleaming boards worth more than the car that carried them.

He took the god awful third shift job so he could spend his days surfing on Wrightsville Beach. He’d nap a while on the beach then surf the rest of the day only to head back to his night shift job again at 11:00.

It wasn’t much of a life, but Michael needed time to sort out his career options. He recently graduated from college and had been accepted to grad school, but didn’t feel he could face more education right then.

It was 1978 and a down economy limited job prospects. Job opportunities didn’t look much better with a master’s degree; besides, he earned more than he could spend working the dispatcher job.  

His needs were simple: Zog’s Sex Wax for his boards, a couple of swim suits and a pile of t-shirts. He’d even started wearing the swim trunks to work. Hell, who cared? There was nobody in the plant to see him at night.

He parked at the north end of the island; grabbed a seven foot, soft rail board from the roof and started walking north along the beach. The board was perfect for the smallish, 4 to 6 foot, waves at Wrightsville and it was his favorite. After walking about half a mile, he headed into the dunes.

The dunes, covered with scrub brush and sea oats would make perfect cover while he slept; not that anyone ever ventured up this far. There would be an occasional jogger, but they’d stay down near the water line.

Michael stripped off his t-shirt revealing sun darkened skin that still had the smoothness of youth. At 5 foot 9 inches, he was under weight for his height. He had a surfer’s build; broad, muscular shoulders from paddling the board through waves but his body dropped off to a 29 inch waist from which he slid off his trunks.

He became aware of the wind off the ocean as it tickled the hairs on his scrotum. It felt really good to be free of the fabric of the swimsuit and he got semi-erect while watching the sun glint off the ocean. He muttered to himself, “this won’t do” thinking that he was going to be full mast very soon. At 21, it didn’t take much to make him hard.

He quickly surveyed the beach before lying down. “No one in sight” he thought. Soon, the warmth of the sun combined with the cool ocean breeze lulled Michael into a blissful sleep that lasted for hours.

***

Bill padded along the beach in obvious discomfort. He wasn’t a beach person, but two friends talked him into an excursion. His yellow board shorts made his pale skin look even paler. He was uncomfortable without a shirt since it showed off his soft belly; not fat, but not “in shape” especially compared to the surfers he saw all along the beach.

When he first got settled on his beach towel, he couldn’t help but stare at one surfer glistening with salt water, as he came on shore to add more wax to his board. Long brown hair fell in tangles down to his broad shoulders; pecs formed perfect rock hard muscle pairs on his chest; and Bill realized that he was getting an erection.

Bill needed a distraction. Not a very strong swimmer, he decided that best way to while away the time was to walk the beach. And walk he did; far from the crowds where his friends were sunning; all the way up to the north end of Wrightsville Beach.

It took him about 90 minutes of walking before he realized that he really needed to pee. He looked out at the rough breakers and considered peeing in the ocean, but the surf was too rough.” It’d be safer to head into the dunes,” he thought.

Bill slogged through the soft sand up to the dunes and was startled by the naked young man he found lying there.

“You ok?” he called out in surprise.

“What a dumb thing to say,” Bill thought, but it was too late.

Michael heard him and groggily began to move. “Sure… Sure… I’m fine… What time is it?” He didn’t seem particularly shy about being naked and didn’t try to cover himself; merely shielded the sun from his eyes as he tried to identify who was talking to him.

***

Before he knew what was happening, Michael realized that the man was kneeling beside him and touching his chest. Gently; softly a finger moved from near his left nipple to the center of his chest, then followed the thin hair down to his navel.

He looked up into the man’s eyes. The stranger’s face seemed lost in thought. Michael had no fear. The stranger’s gaze moved from Michael’s navel to his eyes. Eyes locked; breathing deepened and grew steady. Michael realized that he’s penis was rock hard and pulsed in rhythm to his heartbeat.

Bill’s hand continued its exploration, moving lower just to the beginning of Michael’s pubic hair. Bill looked down at Michael’s rock hard cock; then back in Michael’s eyes. Not seeing an objection, Bill lowered his head toward Michael’s groin; gently parting his lips and kissing the head of the object of his desire.

Michael’s hips rose involuntarily as he slid half the shaft into Bill’s mouth. A blue vein ran along the top of the shaft and Michael saw it disappear into the eager mouth of the stranger.

Bill relaxed his throat as he slowly tried to take in more of the cock. Feeling himself start to gag, he backed off a bit, but eagerly tried again swallowing more of the shaft with each stroke.

Bill felt Michael’s balls coming closer to his body; felt the tightness of the muscles; and knew he was about to shoot his load. Not wanting the experience to end so soon, Bill slowed his sucking. He grabbed Michael’s balls and gave them a tug toward the young man’s feet.

Michael moaned in surprise and delight as he lifted his head, raised his upper body to rest on his elbows and stared down at the head bobbing on his manhood. Bill glanced up and caught Michael’s eye once again. Bill let the cock slip from his mouth but kept his lips firmly closed around the head using his tongue to tickle it and lick up the salty pre-cum.

Michael caught his breath a bit and regained control. He knew that he was in the hands of a master who wouldn’t let him cum until the other man was good and ready. He felt his balls relaxing as they fell back between his legs. He was breathing hard as he let his head look toward the sky and his back relaxed back on the sand.

Bill once again had taken in the full shaft into his mouth, but wasn’t moving much. Instead, he alternated between sucking hard and relaxing. It was like a vacuum had hold of the cock and Michael once again thought he’d lose control.

Bill used his throat muscles to massage the head of the cock as he sucked harder and faster. Again he felt Michael’s balls moving closer. They touched the corner of his mouth and almost retreated into the young man’s body. Bill didn’t hesitate, but knew Michael was about to blow his load.

Michael involuntarily arched his back, lifted his hips to shove every inch of his cock into the eager mouth. His body tensed as his pelvic muscles spasmed as he shot cum in warm waves down the stranger’s throat.

Exhausted and out of breath Michael relaxed his body as his hips fell back to the sand; his cock already growing limp. Bill didn’t let go immediately, instead teasing the cock with a few more tugs; a few more sucks to get every last drop. Michael shivered as his already too sensitive head got its final, pleasurable torture.

Bill stood and gazed back down at Michael. Their eyes met a final time as Michael asked, “Who are you? Can I see you again?”

Bill smiled back then turned and plodded back down the beach from whence he came.