by Neil Plakcy
Now I was one of them, and I knew I would defend our territory as viciously as they did. Especially if some hot surfer boy found his way into our forbidden waters.
My dick was starting to get hard again. Seeing it grow before their eyes, my buddies grinned at each other.
Soon enough I was lost in the embrace of the cult again, and with the sand under me, the sun on top of me, and the sound of the waves forever in my ears, I knew there was nowhere I’d rather be.
SLEEPING IN THE SAND
Danielle de Santiago
At first, I just called him Surfer Boy, because I didn’t know his name. I saw him waxing his board in front of the tent he and his buddy had pitched on the beach. The tent’s colors blurred with the blue of the African sky over Djerba, a beautiful island off the coast of Tunisia.
Standing with him in the breakers while he was looking out on the water searching for the next wave to roll in, I learned his name was Julien and that he and his buddy Gaspard were both French and both were nineteen years old.
I liked Julien from the start. He had those wild dark curls of the southern French men that always fell in his face, and his long muscular body had this golden brown tan that matched the dark of his doe eyes.
I liked to watch him. In my imagination I sketched his broad smooth chest, followed his silky skin over his little hard nipples down to his flat belly where a thin trail of dark hair disappeared into his shorts. My eyes stopped at his bulge, lingered for a second on the damp fabric that showed the outlines of his cock.
Then I went on to his muscular legs, as he stood up to his knees in the foaming breakers. His hand glided firmly over the surface of his surfboard and for a short, almost painful moment I wished his hand would do that to me. I imagined how his hand would wander down my wet back…to my hips and…No. I was sure that I wouldn’t have a chance. This dude was straight. I was sure about that…until that night in the club.
He and Gaspard walked in with Kathy, a little blonde who sold souvenirs down by the beach. From my chair I could see how she pushed them into the humid warmth of the club after she had shown her hot-pink all-inclusive wristband to the bouncer.
The souvenir-seller had become friends with the two surfer dudes, and I often saw her sitting in front of the tent, or in the mornings when she brought them leftovers from the breakfast buffet in the hotel and coffee in a thermos. Gaspard didn’t speak any English, so he was either out on the ocean with his board, or sitting in the tent with Kathy.
I was surprised when I saw Julien, Gaspard, and Kathy at the club, because it was usually restricted to staff and guests of the hotel. Julien saw my astonished look and laughed happily while he touched his lips in a gesture of discretion with one finger and pushed Kathy and Gaspard with the other hand toward the group of low leather sofas where I was sitting.
“Hey,” he said in that broad French accent which gave me goose bumps. He let himself fall next to me on the couch.
“You know Gaspard and Kathy, don’t you?” He pointed at the other two as they took seats on the opposite side of the table.
Kathy said, “Yes, sure. You bought two magic camels at my stand, didn’t you?”
Always looking out for interesting souvenirs to take home from my extended vacation, I had bought two mugs from Kathy. A camel’s head was the spout, and there was a hole in the bottom and the top. You pour rum into one hole and Coke in the other, turn the camel, and the drink doesn’t leak out.
Kathy laughed and went away to get drinks. Gaspard examined me almost scornfully, and then he murmured something in French and disappeared as well.
“He has to piss,” Julien translated for me. He took a sip from my glass. I couldn’t deny how good he looked. He had changed his surfer shorts for white, almost transparent linen pants that sat deep on his hips, and it was obvious that my surfer boy wasn’t a friend of underwear. I could see the dark shadows of his pubes as he stretched out his long legs.
He had tamed his curly dark hair with gel, and the only reminders of his beach life were the smell of salt water and the flip-flops on his feet. His white shirt was unbuttoned to the middle of his chest, and I was able see the dark moons of his nipples through the thin fabric.
“Do you like what you see?” Julien asked, as he caught me staring.
I blushed, and was just about to answer when Kathy and Gaspard returned with the drinks. Gaspard’s gray eyes were cool as he pointed at me with his chin and then said something in French to Kathy, who slapped him in a playful way on his biceps and then shook her head, laughing.
Kathy winked at me and handed me a bottle of beer. “Don’t mind him. He’s a bit crazy.”
I shrugged and took a sip from my bottle. Gaspard jumped up, took Kathy’s hands, and dragged her out on the dance floor. She nestled herself to him and allowed Gaspard’s hands to wander down her spine to her booty while she closed her arms around his neck.
Julien and I sat together as Gaspard and Kathy danced and came back for short breaks between songs to drink. They took Julien to the dance floor, where the three of them kept on dancing. He was looking so good as he unbuttoned his shirt completely and danced by himself between Kathy and Gaspard, his eyes closed as if he was far away. I smiled and drank more of my beer. Suddenly Julien opened his eyes and looked at me. He wiped the sweat off of his forehead, laughed, and waved at me to join them on the dance floor.
I made a face and shook my head. Julien looked impatient and when I still didn’t go over he talked quickly to the two others and came back to the sofas with both of them.
“Wow, that was good,” said Kathy and let herself fall down on the black leather next to Gaspard.
“Do you want to dance too?” Julien asked me, still standing.
“I…yeah…well…it seems like Kathy needs a break first… and…” I stuttered, and looked over at the girl on the other side of the table.
“Yes, Kathy needs a break for sure. But I don’t!” Julien laughed and stretched his hand to me. I looked at his hand with disbelief, as though I had never seen a hand before and was for a moment unable to understand what he had said. Could it be? Had he asked me for a dance?
The first notes of Lisa Hall’s “Is This Real” came out of the speakers and encouraged Julien in what he wanted to do. “C’mon…that’s my favorite song! Why do you Americans always have to be so complicated?” Still laughing, he grabbed my hand and pulled me up from the couch and onto the dance floor.
On the way there I almost stumbled, busy telling myself that this was a dream. For a moment I stood there, as if I was planted on the ground, and looked at Julien, who already had started to dance. With a quick movement he kicked those flip-flops off of his feet and started to dance in little circles around me. His hands were on my shoulders and he was so close that I could smell him again…the scent of the ocean…salt…sweat…and lust?
I started to dance to the rhythm of the song, slowly moving my hips. Julien was behind my back and I bowed my knees a bit when he laid his hands on my hips to bring us in sync.
Silently I lip-synced the words to the song, “…But is that real?” I was sweating and I became brave enough to rub my butt against Julien’s crotch.
I was just about to turn around as Gaspard appeared. With a single movement he pushed me aside and then gave Julian a hard push, screaming in French at him. I reached out to touch Gaspard’s shoulder when he spun around and gave me a hard slap in the face. For a moment he looked as shocked as I felt, but then he started to bark again and came closer.
Kathy arrived, pushing her body between Gaspard and me.
For a moment I stared with disbelief at Gaspard, and at Julien who was getting up from the floor. Then I turned around and left the club. I was in shock. Never in my life had someone hit me in the face. The night air was cool, pleasant, and welcoming in front of the club. I still was rubbing my burning cheek as I headed toward the beach.
There was no way I could go back to my room then. I took off my shoes when I reached t
he sand and started walking in the direction of the water. Then I heard Julien following me. I don’t know if it was shame or alcohol that made me pretend not to hear his voice and keep on walking. It took Julien a while to speed up but finally he caught me.
“What the hell was that?” he asked, grabbing my hand so hard that I almost fell.
“Yes, what’s up with your friend the asshole?” I pulled my hand back from Julien.
“Gaspard, you mean? Nothing…he just thinks I want to fuck you.” Julien lit a cigarette in the darkness and inhaled deeply. “He is totally out of his mind!”
Julien took my hand. “C’mon, don’t be like this. Don’t be mad. He’s having a hard time. I just told him a few days ago and who knows? Maybe I really want to.”
“Told him what? And what is it you might want?”
“Well…I told him that I like guys. And maybe I really want to go to bed with you!”
For a moment I was just quiet, then I turned around. Did this idiot think he could mess around with me? Did he think I was stupid? I started walking away, when he grabbed my shoulder and whirled me around again.
“What is wrong with you? Is that your way of treating people?”
“I’m sorry! It’s just that I really like you and…” I shrugged my shoulders.
“And what? I like you too, man!” Julien didn’t sound angry any more. He was really close to me, and his full lips touched mine and his seeking tongue melted into my mouth. He pulled me so close to him that I could feel his stiff dick.
Without unfastening his lips from mine, he slipped his shirt from his shoulders. He let it fall carelessly on the ground. He unbuttoned my shirt with quick fingers, and a little later it followed his to the sand below us. Hungrily I kissed him back and followed the secret ways of his body with my lips like I had followed them so often in my imagination.
I licked his broad smooth chest and pinched his nipples while my tongue shifted down south. His muscular belly flinched and Julien muttered softly as I licked around his navel. Finally I pressed my face hard against his pants. Rubbing him through the white linen, I could tell that his dick was enormous.
I caught my breath for a second when I finally managed to get him out of his trap, and he was hanging hard and heavy in front of my face. It was a fat boner, big and uncut and almost as thick as a beer can. I thought I would never manage to get the whole thing into my mouth, but I pulled back his foreskin and carefully began to lick its damp, warm head.
He took over my mouth with his long and deep thrusts. I was hard too and tried to open up my jeans. Everything inside me pulled tight together and I moaned. I tried to grab his dick again but suddenly Julien was all over me and pushing me down on the sand.
His hot tongue brushed my cheek and then it squeezed between my lips again. He seemed to have a thousand hands and fingers and used them all at once to touch me. I could feel him on my neck; he was kissing and caressing my chest, trying to pull down my jeans.
He fumbled around my belt and bit my lower lip furiously, which made me cry out loud. Deeper he pushed me into the sandy ground, shoving his pants and our shirts with a skilled movement underneath my head. He sat down on my chest, placing his muscular thighs left and right next to my shoulders.
He anchored his knees into the sand and let his heavy dick dangle over my face. In the darkness Julien ran his fingers through my hair, bowed down, kissed me, and made saliva rain down from his mouth on my opened lips.
“Do you like that?” he asked, but I was not in any condition to answer. Instead I nodded as much as I could, because his legs were so tight around my head that I barely could move anymore, and I felt the little raw hairs on his thighs rubbing on my ears and cheeks. Greedily, he dug in my hair and grabbed me harder.
He crossed his fingers steadily behind my head and took me into a grip like a clamp. It was impossible for me to move. I tried to turn my head a bit, but Julien’s cock glided between my lips, leaving a trace of salty slime and drilling deep into my mouth, which closed hot and wet around him.
Slowly he started to fuck my face, passing deeper and deeper into my throat, taking my breath away and making me gag. Spit dripped from the corners of my mouth and smeared all over my lips and chin with each movement of his dick.
For a moment he backed up, carefully stroked the hair out of my sweaty forehead and asked me if I was all right. I nodded as far as I was able to in the tight grip of his legs, and in a heartbeat he was all over me again, moaning and groaning and shoving his dick even deeper into me than he had before.
He was so deep inside my throat that I couldn’t breathe through my nose and the stars above his shoulders blurred as my eyes filled with tears. Again he loosened his grasp, shoved his hips a bit backward, and let his cock slap heavy and wet on my face.
Salty tears and precum mixed up on my lips and dragged strings between Julien’s dick and my mouth. Ravenous, I inhaled the cool breeze from the sea that blew over us. Like a demon Julien crouched on me, then sank down and licked my mouth and cheeks.
“I can taste the ocean in you,” he said, and before I could answer he closed my lips with another long kiss. Again his hands started to explore my body, checking me as if to make sure that I hadn’t been hurt during the hard ride. Fine grains of sand came between his fingers and my skin and bruised it, making me shiver while his tongue fought with mine.
“You like this,” he said. It was a declaration, not a question. He was French through and through, a great seducer, and he seemed to be sure about his skills as a lover as he slid aside and started to turn me slowly onto my stomach.
He shoved the stack of our clothing underneath my upper body and commanded, “Lean on that.” Sand trickled out of my hair and I tried to elevate myself while Julien disappeared behind my back. His fingers slid raw over my shoulder blades, rubbing me, then his tongue suddenly touched the back of my neck.
Julien bit me; he licked and kissed his way down my neck, explored my spine, massaged my ribs, and finally reached my butt. I wanted to protest, try to turn around, but Julien didn’t know mercy. Again I found myself caught up in the tight hold of his arms, and all I could do was bury my face in our clothes while Julien spread my buttcheeks.
A load of spit landed on my hole. Like a small, wet snake his tongue circled around my asshole, licked me with long rough strokes and claimed permission to enter my holiest, while I groaned blessed curses into our sandy clothes.
“That doesn’t help you at all,” Julien laughed, so close to my buttcheeks I could feel his breath on my skin. He took first one and then two fingers to support himself on his way inside me. Without any resistance they slid into me, turning inside me while Julien’s tongue slid back and forth between his fingers and my meat. He massaged me, motivated me, and drove me wild with those tempting moves in the boiling depths of my body.
I sighed, closed my eyes, and buried my fingers in the sand. Julien raised from behind as if he wanted to catch a breath, then sat down on the back of my legs and drove his fingers across my back and ass. “Your skin,” he muttered, and without another word he shoved the tip of his cock between my buttcheeks. For a second I was terrified and drew back, but I relaxed myself again directly as Julien bowed down like a wave, lying down on me and driving my legs apart with his knees.
My hole was soaked with his saliva, prepared for his huge dick. The tip of his cock stretched me and I could feel how the muscle gave in and nestled tight around Julien’s shaft. He was barely inside me before he almost slipped out again. Then he stopped and slid back in not more than an inch. Over and over he did this.
One arm tight around my shoulders, he lay on me. He grabbed my hair, caught a fistful of my sun-bleached curls and turned my head so that he was able to kiss me. Again and again he moved back and forth, inch by inch in and out of me, pushing me harder on the sandy ground.
“Please,” I moaned when I almost couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Please what?” Julien asked me, and I could hear the sadis
tic bite of a whip between those words.
“You know what I mean,” I whispered, and tried to impale myself deeper onto his cock.
“Yes…I know…but I wanna hear it…so say it,” answered the devil on my back, as he pulled himself a bit away from my thrusting hips.
“Please,” I tried again when Julien grabbed my hair yet harder.
“No…say it…say it or I’ll stop and go back to the club,” he tortured me.
“I…shit…please…please fuck me,” I growled between two kisses.
“See…that wasn’t too hard for you,” Julien whispered, satisfied, and started to shove his huge cock once more inside me.
Then he stopped again. He did nothing for a while, and it felt like years. He just held me tight and let me beg for his dick. I could feel how much he enjoyed my craving for that huge piece of meat and how much pleasure it gave him that I wanted him so badly.
Finally he let go of my hair. His arm was still wrapped tight around my shoulders, almost buried between my chest muscle and the sand underneath my body. He pinched one of my nipples hard while his other hand was pushed deep into the beach to support himself.
For a second he tried to find a new balance and almost floated above me. His slim, trained body made his dick seem even bigger, and I moaned at the thought of having his full length inside of me. His dick had become a snake, a carnivore waiting hungrily to slither through my body and give me its venom, its purest ecstasy.
Again he began to torture me with little, pointed thrusts but now he gave me more of his cock. Deeper and deeper he went, searching his way into my flesh. Underneath him I twitched and groaned. I was wax in his hands, hot and horny and waiting to be put into new shapes. I felt how much pleasure it gave him to torture me with his cock. To agonize me like a toy, a little hot toy that was close to exploding
“More,” I grunted, and tried to grab his hips to pull him deeper inside me.
