It was uncharacteristically sunny for this time of year. The December sun shone brightly in the middle of a blue, cloudless sky and it invited me to leave the rented beach house and walk down to the rocky beach. I donned a t-shirt, my loose running shorts commando, sneakers and a hooded windbreaker, prepared a full flask of hot black coffee, picked up my pack of cigarettes, and strolled down towards the rocks.
There was barely any wind, and I could feel the sun on my face, so refreshing after the preceding cold months. My dad had come up with the idea of getting away from the city and had rented a beach house for us to spend the holidays in. It had been a smart decision. Even though both Dad and Mom had to drive down to work, we were enjoying the evenings and the weekends. It was convenient for me since my work was mostly online.
I chose a dry outcropping and sat on the rock, pouring some coffee, lighting a cigarette and contemplating the far horizon. The sea waves were mild, barely splashing against the rocks, almost caressing. Everything was so serene that it took me a while to notice the ripples in the water some 500 meters away followed by a bobbing black body.
I stood up and gazed. It was a diver. I could now see the whole body floating, then dipping, and going down under, only to reappear moments later. He seemed to be heading in my direction. I wondered what would make someone dive into the chilly December water. I was not an expert swimmer, but even for those who were crazy about swimming, the notion of immersing oneself into cold water was not very appealing to me.
It took the diver around ten minutes to reach where I was sitting. I watched as he pulled himself out of the water onto the rocks. He was in full diving gear: hood, wet suit, gloves, and all. As he stood up and started to take off his diving flippers, I noticed how the wet suit stuck to his body. The sun rays reflected off the rubbery black suit in such a way to accentuate the body it covered. I could see his muscles ripple clearly. It was as if he wasn't wearing any clothes, the wet suit stretched material enveloping his body so tightly.
Carrying the flippers in one hand, the guy walked over, a smile on his face.
"Hey," he greeted me, climbing onto the rock I was sitting on.
"Hey," I responded, noticing the cute face with its trimmed beard and rosy cheeks, but totally taken by the way the wet suit revealed the guy's body. I could tell he was a fit swimmer, lean and ripped. As he stood up next to me, I couldn't help but gaze at his crotch. His dick outlined perfectly, to the left. The stretched material revealed the ridge of his cock head as if he were naked. I inwardly drooled.
"Hot coffee?" I asked moving my gaze up his ribbed chest to his smiling face.
"Fucking-A" he said, sitting next to me, adjusting his dick and balls inside the tight suit, making me feel a chill down my spine.
As I poured some coffee for him, I couldn't help but commenting: "It must be freezing down there."
"Yeah, it's pretty cold. But once you get over the initial dip, the water inside the suit heats up."
I shook my head, handing him the steaming plastic cup. "Oh man, I wouldn't think of doing it."
"It's good fun, dude."
"But it can't be that comfortable, with the tight suit and all," I said, glancing down at his crotch meaningfully and then back to his face.
He laughed. "It's comfortable enough except sometimes with the wrong move, certain parts of your body get squished a bit."
"I bet." Another glance at his crotch, as he re-adjusted his dick.
The guy sipped the coffee slowly, thanked me again, and then started to unzip his suit. "It's pretty warm."
I watched. A patch of chest hair. Some hairs around pink nipples. A trail of hair between a defined six-abbed abdomen, a navel, the trail disappearing into what I figured must be a full bush. The guy was fit without being overly muscular. I was dying for him to keep unzipping his suit so I could get a look at what he was packing, and what I assumed was quite interesting from the way it was outlined.
I wasn't in any relationship. I hadn't been in any serious relationship for a couple of years, since the time when Ricky and I had broken up. I had decided then that I wouldn't fall for another exclusive commitment with anyone. Not yet, at least. I had had a few passing encounters, though. A married older man I met at a bar, who invited me up to his hotel room and who had gone after my cock like a hungry barracuda. I was his first, he had claimed, but the way he swallowed my 8-incher proved to me that he had had quite a few inside his slobbering hungry mouth.
There had also been this young kid, a college dude, who came on to me at a Macdonald's of all places, and who had also been able to swallow my dick down to the base. This kid was the best cocksucker I had ever experienced, however, his throat constricting and vibrating around my cut cock knob, his lips pursed in a tight grip around the base, and his hot breaths blasting into my thick pubes. I cummed so hard that he had choked and gagged more from my copious ejaculation than from my fat cock buried inside his throat.
This diver, however, had something different that I couldn't put my finger on. A certain charisma, maybe? Or was I too hungry for sex and he looked too appealing? When I decided to come down to the rocks, I hadn't thought I'd be meeting such a beautiful person. It was like a mermaid emerging from the sea. My mermaid... or merdude? What a ridiculous thought! The fact remained that what consumed my mind was whether I could get him to bed.
We had some small talk, sipping coffee and smoking, with me enjoying the proximity of this bare-chested hunk of a guy. I learned that Rodney--or Rod, as he preferred--had finished grad school and was now under probation in a job in the city. I, James, told him about how we were spending our holidays and about the beach house, after which I invited him up to the house, hope against hope that he would accept.
