All characters 18+
I steadied myself as I knelt on the board, waiting. When you imagine surfing all anyone thinks about is the ride, cutting through the waves. But most of it was waiting, getting ready to take the most of an opportunity when it came. And mine was coming.
The water began to swell, as I got ready for the new wave. Patience. Timing. Luck.Β If you didn't have these you shouldn't be surfing at all.
And I had all three in spades.
I launched myself into it, kneeling to begin when it had just formed, before I started to stand, feeling the air flow past me, tensing my core to keep upright as the world rushed past.
FuckΒ - it felt good. It felt free.
But all waves crash eventually as I directed my board to the beach. Dismounting I checked my watch. It was late. I was hungry. I had been surfing all afternoon
I grabbed my bad and started heading to the public showers to rinse off the salt water. Getting in I saw an old rundown changing room, with some open-air showers at the back behind a whitewashed wall that didn't even run to the roof. I had been in worse.
I stripped off and started checking myself out in the mirror. I flexed for it. I grinned. I looked good.
The last month of surfing, along with my calisthenics on this trip had turned any inch of fat into muscle. Along with my already handsome face I was my own wet dream. My hair was getting long though, the blonde hair unmanaged. I wasn't sure if I should cut it or keep growing it. I had never had it long before. Maybe this was the summer for it.
I continued undressing, slipping off my wetsuit fully. I put my towel over my shoulder and walked to the showers, washbag in hand, swinging proudly. I heard the running water echo in the hallway as I got closer. I wasn't alone.
I walked in, seeing a pair of strangers showering at the side. The first one looked older, maybe 70, out of shape, shampooing.Β I looked away quickly.
The second one though, that was worth looking at. He looked about 20, my age, trim with messy black hair. He was facing the wall a little too close, a little insecurely. He might have not felt confident about his dick, but fuck, his ass was a work of art, the perfect plumpness, the small round shelf.
I wasn't sure if I wanted to cum in it or on it.
I sauntered to the shower beside him, setting my bag on the ground. I turned on the water, letting the warm flow take away the dry salty scale I had developed.
He glanced at me through the corner of his eye, slightly turning his head. "Shit," he looked cute. The faintest hint of black stubble covering his jaw, high cheekbones, and his blue eyes darting nervously.
I turned to face him, showing myself off completely. The nervous eyes stopped bouncing, running along me as I presented myself. I saw them lock once they got to between my legs.
'Bingo.'
I smirked, giving him a minute to stare. Then I interrupted him. 'Can I borrow some soap?'
I saw him gulp as he turned away quickly, embarrassed. He reached down to his feet grabbing his bottle and passing it to me. He was angling the front of his body the other way.
"I wonder why."Β I grinned.
I took the bottle, pouring far too much into my hand, the white liquid overflowing, before dropping it back in his open hand. Still facing him I rubbed it down my body, massaging it into my chest. I lifted my arms presenting my pits, washing them. His eyes didn't leave me.
I grinned some more as my hands went down to clean my flaccid dick, his eyes tracing every movement, as I gently rubbed.
'What's your name?' I asked him, not stopping lathering my groin, leaving a pile of soapy bubbles almost covering my junk. Almost.
He gulped, 'Chris.' He offered shakily.