Summer wore on at Bonnaroo Beach, and absolutely filthy thoughts of Sophia continued to dominate most of my daily brain capacity - and that of most of the other guards as well. The only one who continued to seem unfazed was our head lifeguard, Hank, who just laughed and shook his head whenever he overheard our slack-jawed commentary on the communal fixation that was Sophia.
One by one, my friends all fell short in the "Sophia challenge" until one day, 6 weeks into the summer, only one guard had not yet sprung a Sophia-induced hard-on within sight of another member of the beach patrol: Bryant, a fellow veteran lifeguard who was in a committed long-term relationship and made a valiant effort to keep his eyes exclusively on the ocean.
That is, until now.
"Hey man," Nate (my best friend since childhood) consoled Bryant in a faux-saccharine tone. "You're only human. I'm sure Amanda would be reassured to know all is in working order down there."
Nathan giggled as Bryant gave him a good-natured shove. "My fiancee is well aware, you little shit,* he growled, "as I've demonstrated nearly every night this week. When's the last time someone other than your own hand got your proof of your clean bill of health?*
Nate dropped his shoulders and pulled his face into a self-deprecating grimace. "Touche," he sighed dramatically. "Touche."
Bryant chuckled and nudged him toward the beach wagon. "Finish collecting the gear, and try not to get distracted." He gave Nate what was supposed to be an intimidating side-eye but instead came off suffused with Bryant's signature warmth.
"Aye, aye, captain!* Nathan emphatically saluted back before reconsidering. "Co-captain? Captain-in-waiting? Vice Captain?"
Bryant just sighed in mock annoyance and went back to puliing the swim zone flags out of the sand, doing his damnedest to keep his eyes above waist-level.
Because moments earlier, looking down had been his undoing. Sprawled out there on her back in all her gleaming golden glory, was Sophia, napping in the sun, luscious tits nearly spilling out the top of her cobalt blue balconette bikini and mermaid waves fanned out under her hat, with one elegant hand draped across the soft curves of her belly, fingers toying suggestively with the waistband of her low-slung bottoms. Even in her sleep this woman radiated sex.
Bryant, Nate, and I had been on cleanup duty, and it had been only seconds after entering Sophia's vicinity that Bryant's eyes innocently drifted across her blanket and then doubled back in the most comically exaggerated cartoon-style double-take I'd ever witnessed. I'd been quietly laughing to myself when Nate whispered, "JJ," to get my attention and smirked in the direct of Bryant's crotch, which was indeed visibly swelling the longer he eyed Sophia.
Nathan broke Bryant's reverie by loudly announcing, "And that, my friends, marks the end of the summer challenge!"
Thankfully, despite the raucous laughter from the guard tent, Sophia didn't stir under her hat, and Bryant accepted Nate's subsequent 45 minutes of ribbing with grace.
For my part, as the beach cleared out and her eyes remained covered by the brim of her hat, I unabashedly took advantage of the opportunity to feast my eyes on the delectable spread of womanhood before me - at least until Hank caught me and snapped his fingers twice to get my attention. "Move it along, Jesse," he admonished. But even though I couldn't see his eyes behind his polarized shades, I had a feeling there was a knowing gleam in them.
As Bryant had proven this afternoon, no one was immune to Sophia's charms. No one.
--
The next morning, I was on setup duty with Hank and arrived bright and early to help him unload our gear from the shed and bring it down to the beach. It was a clear, brilliant morning, and already growing hot under a cloudless sky.
Hank and I made quick work of the setup and settled into the south chair for the first shift. It was early enough that the beach was still relatively empty, only those families within walking distance beginning to arrive. Naturally, Sophia's was one of them.
Her empty chair with oversized hat draped over the arm caught my eye, and I glanced up and down the shoreline to see if I could find her. My search was coming up empty, until I heard a gleeful shriek and Sophia's kids came bounding out of the water to our right, splashing in every direction as they chased each other back to their blanket with slimy strands of seaweed hanging from their fists.
A few steps behind the chaos, Sophia emerged from the waves like a vision, unbothered, sunlight glinting off her long shapely legs and delicate ankles with every step through the gentle knee-high water.
Today she'd donned another of those inexplicably titillating cut-out one-pieces, in a swirling pattern of teals and blues that made her blue eyes pop. Droplets of water swooped down the slope of her curves, sparkling like sequins whenever one caught the morning rays just right.
Mesmerizing, unreal - like an impossibly perfect Bond girl out of an old Hollywood movie. And yet, here she was.
She strolled unhurriedly towards the shoreline, reaching over her shoulders for her long, dripping wet hair. She gathered her locks in her hands and squeezed the excess water out, sending a shimmer cascading down her back and over that gloriously round ass.
I swallowed dryly, my dick already jumping to attention.
As she turned to our left and started walking towards our chair to return to her blanket, she flexed her hands around her mound of hair once more, drawing my attention to the generous (thank you Lord baby Jesus!) gaps in the sides of her swimsuit exposing a glorious helping of side-boob which bounced invitingly as she wrung her hair and shook it out, raking her fingers through her crown.
What I wouldn't give to have those fingers raking across *my* scalp as she took her pleasure on my throbbing cock. Fuckkkkk, yes.
Hank, I noticed, had gone unnaturally still beside me. "Hell of a view, huh?" I croaked, clearing my throat.
Hank shifted in his seat in a mostly futile effort to disguise whatever was going on in his lap. He groaned deep in his throat, taking off his baseball cap with one hand and nervously shoving his fingers through his thick dark hair with the other. He slid the cap back on as he mumbled under his breath to me, "I swear to God this woman's only goal in life is to make me pop wood in front of my wife."
Like most days, Hank's wife was laid out on a blanket a little behind him and down the beach. But with Sophia now coming level with the guard chair, he didn't even spare his wife a glance.
No, our eyes were glued to one thing, and one thing only: Sophia.
As she crossed directly in front of us, she dropped her arms, and gave us a quick smile and nod, licking the salt water from her lips.
It clicked in that moment, as her eyes skimmed across our sunglasses, that she must have realized we had been ogling her and that the quiet commentary we'd traded upon her approach was about her. Shit!
Any remaining blood drained from my head in a panic as I frantically racked my brain for ideas of how to smooth the awkwardness over. Luckily, Hank came to our rescue.
He cleared his throat audibly then called out, "Hi, Sophia," pairing the greeting with a winning smile. His straight, white teeth glowed against his deep tan and he leaned back, casually draping a well-muscled tattooed arm over the back of the chair. That old dog! I didn't know he still had it in him. Not gonna lie, I was definitely taking notes.
