With Greg's heavy involvement with lifesaving you'd think he would have got more involved, but it doesn't really work that way. Never the less he'd acquired a mini-mal some years ago that he used occasionally but never really mastered. My father had given me a short board for one Christmas and even though dad had given me lessons on it, like Greg, I'd used it a few times since but never really got the hang of the whole thing.
A heavy swell moving up from the South had got the point working well β much to the delight of dad and my brothers, but on this particular day also was generating a nice rolling break at the nursery area β just the sort Greg and I found attractive for a bit of practice.
So after our swim, instead of going for a run, we each retrieved our surfboards. Fortunately the storm down South which had generated the swell on this day had not made it this far North, so the weather continued hot and sunny and the water was crystal clear. When we reconvened on the beach ready for a surf, Greg was wearing his boardies (board shorts) and I just a bikini.
We paddled out and started our somewhat comic routine of trying to catch waves and then stand up. Fortunately we had the nursery area to ourselves so at least we didn't have to worry about running in to other people. We each managed one or two waves where we got a reasonable ride, but for the most part the routine was more a case of paddle on to the wave, try and stand up and then fall off before paddling back out again. Off in the distance I could see dad and my brothers among those riding the point and at one stage dad had even noticed me out and give me a big wave and hands above the head clapping; indicating in his own dad daggy way his approval of my being out and giving it a go.
After yet another inelegant fall, I paddled back out and glided into a position alongside Greg who was waiting for another suitable wave just beyond the break zone. Greg was facing seaward watching the wave, whereas I came to a stop facing shoreward; in the opposite direction. I may have been starting to get bored with the surfing, but whatever the cause, as I drifted to a stop alongside him seeing his gorgeous body perched upright on his board like that caused a sudden surge of desire in my loins. As I came within reach I put my hand on his thigh to anchor myself next to him. To engage him in conversation I think I might have asked him how many good waves he'd had or some other such trivial question; it didn't really matter I just wanted a reason to keep him next to me.
After a minute or two, without any warning, I slid my hand up the leg of his boardies and fondled his cock. I must have caught him by surprise, because he was entirely flaccid when my hand wrapped itself around him; nearly but not quite able to encase it lightly in my palm. Almost instantly that changed as it engorged; pushing apart my fingers and growing out from between my thumb and forefinger like some fast motion shot of a sapling bursting out of the ground and growing in to a tree before your eyes. I loved the feel of Greg growing in my hand and when I got to, I loved watching it just as much. And yet it was a rare treat. Usually by the time I got him undressed enough to get a hand down his pants or see what was happening he was already pretty big. The feeling of him growing like that aroused me strongly; my own body responding in synch with his preparing itself for his arrival.
I leant in to kiss him; or at least tried too β since my small board didn't quite float my weight and I couldn't get my mouth as high as Greg's. Greg bent down and our mouths meet and our tongues fondled each other before penetrating each other's mouth.
Greg had put a balancing hand on my thigh as he bent down. Now it slid up to my crutch moving gently against it and bringing out a throbbing intensity in my clit as our kiss intensified. Greg's board β being larger β was much more stable than mine, so Greg could afford to put his other hand gently around my neck holding us together while we kissed and fondled each other; whereas I need to use my other hand to hold on for grim death to my board to stop from rolling off.
After just a short while like this, Greg's fingers rolled over the top of my bikini bottom to gain direct access to my now very needy clit. Even in the salty cool ocean, the sensuous touch of his finger sent a shiver of pleasure through me as it slid along the length of my slot between the board and my crutch before exploring the all too ready opening to my tunnel while the back of his thumb gently massaged my clit. In and out he pushed the finger, each push going just a little bit deeper; pushing harder against the front wall while with each movement his thumb moved smoothly and now firmly against the throbbing nub. As my breathing quickened he removed his fingers to the place where his thumb had been, expertly caressing, rubbing and teasing the most immediate cause of my building climax. Almost involuntarily I started rocking my crutch in sync to Greg's fingers causing a slap, slap, slapping noise as the water washed between my stomach and my board as we both rose and fell with the passing below us of each unbroken wave.
With my father not really all that far away, I tried to suppress my usual vocalisation as I came; instead directing the pleasure back down through my crutch as my knees tightened against the side of my board and my hand held a death grip on Greg's cock. Feeling an irresistible need to bend over double with the pleasure of the contractions rampaging through my groin, I broke away from Greg's mouth and bent in towards my board. But all I succeeded in doing was losing my balance. So I ended up rolling off my board in to the water; my mind all the time totally focused on maintaining the momentum of my orgasmic waves. Since I remained firmly anchored to Greg by the hand I had up the leg of his boardies and around his shaft, I succeeded in pulling him off his board too.
Once he was in the water, Greg wrapped his arms under my armpits and held each side of my board with his hands; sandwiching me between him and my board. I felt his hand slide down between our bodies, releasing the press stud securing the waist of his boardies and stripping apart the Velcro closing the fly. The head of his naked shaft was pressed up against the crutch of my bikini; knocking on the door of my tunnel seeking entry with an urgency that communicated itself in every aspect of the contact between our bodies. His desperate need for me excited me; I wanted him in me. I wanted his body thrusting against me and I wanted it as urgently as he did.
With one hand I reached down and pulled aside the crutch of my bikini bottom and guided his shaft into my waiting pussy while I wrapped the other around the back of his head and pulled him in to a kiss. As he entered me, we each pushed our bodies to deepen the penetration; my hand now wrapped around his bum cheek to encourage him to satisfy himself; to take me with all the passion he was feeling.
Greg started thrusting; low slow and deep at first, then with increasing intensity until his eyes acquired that glazed over look that indicated he was about to come. His body tensed and the cool water was suddenly filled with the warmth of the seed pumping out of his body as he let forth a deep satisfying groan.
As my senses started to be able to focus on things other than my loins, I could feel that Greg's boardies were no longer anywhere on his legs and I thought they might have slipped off and floated away while we were concentrating on other things. Greg knew better. Although they had floated down his legs, they were captured by the leg rope still attaching his ankle to his board; so at least we didn't have to go duck diving for them to retrieve them from the bottom if Greg wasn't to do a nudie run up the beach.