Ass, Lifeguard, Beach, Sam, Back
DAVID 180
LIFEGUARD – Chapter TWO
It had been the hardest thing in the world…to watch the water when he was around. When we switched shifts, I found myself hanging around the shack. I loved to watch the people gather around him. He had a knack for being approachable, yet he never took his eyes off the water. Sometimes when people would ask him a question, he wouldn’t answer for a few seconds. He’d just stare straight out at the ocean for ten seconds or so, and then he’d answer, and that usually got the message across to the crowd that he was working. He’d smile from behind his sunglasses, mention where he might be when he got off duty, and invite people to “stop on by”. That accent just made him more endearing.
“Ah think Ah’m jist gonna head on over to the Back Beach for the rest of the afternoon,” he told me. The Back Beach was several hundred feet fenced off from the main beach. It was surrounded by steep cliffs and the fence along the beach building. It was our own private beach, and it was one of the perks of being a lifeguard here. After your shift, you could retire to your own little beach all by yourself. I told him that some of the ladies sunbathed topless there and the first words out of his mouth were, “Can you beat that! Say, do any of the guys, you know, uh…go…you know…take off their trunks? Cuz mine sure dig in after a while.” He lifted his leg, hooked a thumb along the bottom of his trunks and tugged. Then he lifted the entire mass straining at the front of his pouch, hooked the other thumb beneath his balls, and pulled at his suit.
I couldn’t take my eyes off his crotch. He was massive. All of him was massive, but those trunks, that tiny bit of fabric that gripped him around the hips, that barely covered his butt, that defied gravity, that seemed painted on…grabbed you by the ears and made you stare at the huge display of manhood he had between his legs. I found my eyes riveted. It took every ounce of will to look him in the eyes, and then those too left me slackjawed. There were so many times he’d say something, and I heard him, but I had no idea what he said or asked. Those eyes, and those long black lashes…they just took your breath away. I wanted to ask him how he manages to stay so down to earth when he knows…he must know…the effect he has on people. He must know. When he walks out onto the beach, nearly naked…that pouch, those arms, that chest, those thighs, that face, that butt.
I blinked hard and finally tore my gaze from his crotch. I looked him in the eyes. He asked me something. Those eyes were the most glorious aqua blue. Bright. Light. I later realized that it was not the saturation that made them astounding, it was the lightness. They weren’t a blue topaz, they were aquamarines.
“Did you?” he asked.
“Huh?” I said.
“Did you ask Stan if it was okay if I took my trunks off on the Back Beach?”
My mind reeled. And as he asked this, there wasn’t one iota of lewdness in his demeanor. That’s what made it so hard. His body summoned the most base, primal urges in me, and yet those eyes, that face, that smile, that gaze were those of an angel. I wanted to reach down into that suit, grab that cock and press it against mine, and the very thought made me feel shockingly guilty. He was the sexiest boy scout in the world. An altar boy wearing either Hell’s greatest weapon or God’s greatest work of flesh.
“Oh," I said. "Well, honestly no. But it’s just you and me for the rest of the day. I’m sure it’s ok.”
“That’s great!” he said. He turned back to me just before he went through the door, and with a wry smile, he said: “See ya later.” He grabbed his towel and his bottle of oil and headed off, and I stood there, swollen and throbbing, thinking of him oiling himself up until he glistened in the sun.
I didn’t have a break that afternoon, because it was Sunday, and there was no one to relieve me. Relieve me. Hah. Yeah, right. If I had taken a break, I probably would have gone into the bathroom and jacked off. I was hard all afternoon. I had to dig into my bag and find some tissue so I could stuff it into my swim trunks because I was just drooling and I knew there would be a wet spot any time soon. Oh that was embarrassing. Finally, at five, I blew my whistle and the last of the people headed into their cars and drove off. I closed the gate to the parking lot and headed back down to the beach.
I stood there wondering. He hadn’t come back. He was still there. I told myself that I would tell him I was worried and that I was checking up on him, and then I went through the gate and locked it behind me. I walked, nervous and semi-erect, and then I saw him. He was lying on his towel, stomach down, with his head on his forearms. He was asleep. And he was naked. Oh my god, I just wanted to swear. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. His entire body was golden brown. His cock and balls rested between his legs, big, plump, hand-filling pieces of meat begging to be fondled. His huge thighs were splayed invitingly, and he didn’t know I was here. I reveled in the fact that finally I could stare and ogle and take everything in, and so I did. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to fill my hands with his butt and feel the weight of that cock in my palm.
His eyes fluttered open. I was suddenly so nervous. I thought about running or hiding, but it was too late.
“Oh…hi Sam,” he said. “What time is it? Want me to cover for you so you can take a break?”
“No,” I said. “It’s quitting time. The beach is closed.”
“Oh man! I fell asleep! It sure felt good—”
“Well you don’t have to get up,” I said. “Just stay there. Relax.” And he did. I knelt beside him. I didn’t know what I was going to say, but I just had to get close to him.
“I’m glad you came,” he said quietly, and he gave me a little sideways glance. “So…it’s just you and me here, huh?”
“That’s right,” I said.
“Say, Sam?”
“Yes?”
“Can I ask you a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Do you think you could rub some oil on my back? I sprayed some on, but what I really need is a bit of a massage. I pulled something in the gym yesterday and the sun has helped a lot but—”
“No problem!” I said. “Lie down.” I grabbed the oil and sprayed his back, and then I touched him. I spread my hands and began spreading the oil around his huge back.
He hoisted himself up on his arms, arching his back, closed his eyes and said, “Ahhhhhhh.” He let his head hang and I massaged his thick neck. I dug the heels of my palms along the sides of his spine and slid them slowly and firmly up and down. He loved that. I grabbed the sides of his back, the huge flaring lat muscles, and massaged them deeply. He moaned in ecstasy. I repeated everything, and finally, I massaged the spinal erectors, just above his butt. Though I massaged his lower back, my eyes were riveted on those glistening globes. I wanted so much to grab them, to oil them, to feel their iron muscles flexing beneath the warm slippery skin. I saw the fleshy jewels between his legs. His butt crack. I closed my eyes and dreamed about massaging the tender hole hidden deep within…in every way I knew how.
He moaned again.
I was going crazy. I don’t know what possessed me, but I took one well-oiled index finger and rubbed the underside of the head of his cock. “Did you oil this?” I said nervously. “You don’t want that to burn.”
His whole demeanor changed. Not ominously, but finally it seemed that the careful game we had been playing was over. Quietly, he said: “No, I didn’t.” And then he turned towards me, looked me in the eye, and said, “Would you mind?”
For a long time we just looked at each other, me with my mouth hanging open. Finally, I whispered, “David, please?”
He nodded, nailing me with those searing, blue eyes, and said, “And anything else you want to oil too.”
My heart was pounding in my chest. My hands were shaking. My cock was a throbbing, drooling thing desperate for release. I picked up the bottle of oil and unscrewed the cap and let a thin stream trickle down where his thigh met his buttock. He jerked at the sensation. “Tickle?” I asked.
He smiled and nodded. And then again, he locked his gaze onto me and said: “Don’t you think you’d better take your trunks off? Don’t want to get them all oily.”
(Sam's body morph by MoeGoofie)
2004