The Surfer


The story that follows contains relations between a man and a boy. Events depicted in this story are fictional but are based on some of the author's past experiences, although the juciest parts are made up. I'm assuming you like stories like this since you are here, but if you don't, hit your back button and go elsewhere.

Rick was a real boy, and I took him surfing most weekends, but that was in a galaxy far, far away, a long, long time ago.

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The Surfer

Twenty-four years-old, I was married and had two kids, both girls, whereas I had wanted one boy at least, so I joined the Big Brother program and became a Big Brother to a fourteen-year-old boy. He liked to surf so I bought myself a surfboard and we often drove across the mountains to Santa Cruz to go surfing. I lived in Los Altos, and he lived in Redwood City where I worked.

He had some friends he wanted to take along, so every weekend, I took him and three other boys surfing. One of them, a boy named Rick, was hot. He had brown hair, blue eyes, and always sported a great tan. He had an absent father, and his mother let him do about anything, never questioning why he was spending so much time with me, and I started spending more time with him than I did with Dave, my Little Brother. In fact, after an argument with Dave's mother, I quit being his Big Brother. I felt bad about that, but his mother was a bitch. I still took Rick and the other boys surfing, however. I had a van I had rigged out with folding bunks on the sides. With a mattress on the floor, we could easily sleep four or five of us in it and still have room for our surfboards.

One weekend, just Rick and I went surfing, and after surfing all day, we parked the van intending to sleep in it. Rather than put down the folding bunks, I said, "Let's just sleep on the floor."

I wanted to sleep next to him. I often saw him naked when he changed into his swimming trunks, and I liked what I saw. His dick, although not hard when I saw it, was respectable when soft. I figured it would be about six inches hard. The pubic hair about it was a dark brown, darker than the hair on his head, but he spent so much time in the sun that his hair was a bleached by it.

After we had gone to bed, and I thought he was asleep, I reached out to touch his cock. Most boys, asleep, get hard-ons, and I wanted to feel it, to get some idea how big it was hard. When I touched it, his dick wasn't fully hard, but I felt a wet spot on his underwear where he had just ejaculated. He was awake and so turned on by my touch, he spurted. It was enough invitation for me. I pulled down his underwear and, not saying anything, took his cock into my mouth. It didn't take him anytime to cum, that time into my mouth.

I blew him a couple more times before climbing on top of him. Lowering my mouth to his, I kissed him. He opened his mouth to let me insert my tongue. "I love you," I said.

He said nothing.

I pushed down my underwear, spit on my hand, and rubbed the spit on his hole, inserting my middle finger into it. He had to know what I intended, but still, he said nothing.

Before long, I had two fingers inside him, loosening his hole.

Still, he said nothing. I would have stopped had he asked.

When I thought he was loose enough, I guided my cock to his hole.

Still, he said nothing.

Even though I had loosened his hole with my fingers, he was still tight, and I had difficulty getting my cock in him. He moaned, "Oh," but said nothing else, and I pressed harder. Finally, my dick slid past his sphincter, and I was inside him.

"I know it hurt," I said, "but it won't hurt so much next timed, assuring him and me that there would be a next time.

Still, he said nothing.

Fucking him with slow and steady strokes, I came, but not before he had. He didn't moan or cry out, but as I squirted up his ass, he spurted onto his stomach. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" I said. "That was good. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did."

Still, he said nothing, and as I lay on top of him kissing him as my cock softened and withdrew from him. Feeling his cock harden, I gave him another blowjob, and again he squirted into my mouth.

Still, he said nothing.

I fucked him again, and we went to sleep.

When I awoke the next morning, he was awake and looking at me. I reached for his cock, and again, he came at my touch. I blew him again before climbing on top of him. My cock slid into him without much effort, and I fucked him, kissing him afterward and again, telling him I loved him.

Still, he said nothing, but again, he spurted onto his stomach.

We got dressed, had breakfast at a Denny's and went surfing, neither of us saying anything about what had happened the night before or that morning.

We spent that night in the van again. and I reached for him. He came at my touch, and I climbed on top of him, guiding my cock to his hole, kissing him while I fucked him, telling him I loved him, fucking him until I came and he spurted onto his stomach.

I fucked him again, and when he didn't come, I gave him a blowjob. He spurted into my mouth. "Do you like it?" I asked, but he said nothing.

On the way home, we talked about how great the surfing had been, but neither of us said anything about the other things we'd done.

The next weekend, we went surfing again, and after a rather shitty day of surfing, we went to bed in the van. Neither of us had mentioned what we had done the previous weekend, but that night, it was he who reached for my cock. He stroked it for a minute before leaning over and taking it into his mouth, sucking it until I came, after which, he climbed on top of me, spit on his hand, and rubbed the spit on my hole. I felt his cock press against it, and soon, he was inside of me. He came too quickly but was soon hard again, and fucked me a second time, lowering his face to mine, kissing me, and saying, "I love you."

I said nothing.