Date: Wed, 19 Jun 2002 22:25:14 -0700 (PDT) From: smithers1066@yahoo.com Subject: Owen on the Beach The following story contains explicit descriptions of sexual situations between two consenting adult homosexual men. If such content offends you or is illegal for you to view due to age or laws in your state or country, please do not continue. All persons and events in the following story are fictional. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. I'm still fairly new at this, so comments are welcome. Owen on the Beach It was a long drive out to Malibu, full of ragged turns and steep hills. But I had to get out of the city, it was smoky and cruel. And yes, I realize I'm borrowing liberally from Roy Orbison there, but it was one of those days. I couldn't be in my apartment anymore. It was too hot, it was too small and the flashing light on the answering machine told me I hadn't deleted his message yet. The message told me that he and Rico were moving to San Francisco so Rico (the new boyfriend) could pursue his dream of becoming a professional surfer. There were so many things wrong with that idea I didn't know where to begin. The fact that Rico was 5'2", grew up in Iowa and had never so much as touched a surfboard would probably be the best place. So, I grabbed a towel, some CD's, my stereo and my cooler, threw them into my Camry and headed West. We had been broken up for two months, Fuckhead and I. I refuse to use his real name, not because it's too painful to speak it or anything, he just doesn't deserve the press. I'm not saying I was over him at that point, but I was certainly over being under him. I just wanted to go sit in the sand, look out at the horizon and write atrocious, angry poetry I would never share. I needed to hate him somewhere beautiful. Once my car summited the final hill and I could see the ocean stretching before me down below, I felt an immediate sense of release. I cranked up the stereo to 11 and let the angry grrrl rock pound itself into me. Once I hit PCH, I looked for a market to get some food for my picnic of bitterness. The sun was bright, illuminating the mansions dotting the hillsides. I looked up at the homes and flipped off Barbra and James, as was my way. I pulled into a small market and stepped out of the car. The breeze played with my hair a bit as I marched into the store. I grabbed a cart and started cruising the aisles. I grabbed some soda and water, a couple sandwiches from the deli and some chips. The store was pretty crowded, full of families and couples. A guy and girl, probably 18 or 19, stood in front of the beer case speaking to each other with all the shmoopiness each could muster. "Get whatever you want, honey," the guy said. "I want whatever you want, baby," she cooed at him. "Shut the fuck up," I said. But only in my head. At that moment I hated them, all of them. All those sickening couples, holding hands, staring longingly, giggling. Even the old couple in matching jogging suits bickering about the price of frozen peas. They were in love and therefore my natural enemies. I was a superhero, Bitter Boy, my power forged in a nasty break-up and a protracted custody battle over shared DVDs and a half-dead Boston fern. I had a sacred duty to fight the forces of romance, minions of the great villain, Hallmark. I walked down the frozen food aisle, imagining myself in a tight blue suit, leaping tall buildings and sewing acrimony between all things cuddly. A shadow loomed down on me. I saw shoes in front of me and looked up. As the mist rose from the open ice case, wrapping itself around his form my eyes locked with my nemesis, the one person Bitter Boy was helpless against. Before me, in his costume of khaki shorts and white tank top, white necklace around his throat and peering into me with deep hazel eyes, stood the Cutest Boy in the World. "You want some ice," he said, his politeness masking his nefarious mission. "Uh, yeah," I said, reaching in for a bag. "Nice day, huh?" he said after a pause. It was no "Ever dance with the devil in the pale moonlight?" but my stomach lurched all the same. "Yeah," I said, throwing the ice in my bag. "You going to the beach?" I was already weakening. "Yep. You?" "Un-huh." "Cool." He glanced down, taking me in. It was an almost imperceptible move, but then I was a superhero, with powers. "See ya," he said, giving me a slight smile and turning. "See ya," I said, awkwardly. I watched him walk away, seeing his exposed shoulders rise and fall. And, of course, glancing down to take in his lovely round ass. But, no, today was about bad poetry, not booty. I paid for my groceries, glancing up to see him waiting in another aisle. I smiled a bit at him, then took my bags and headed to my car. I considered waiting there and following him, but quickly decided against it. I drove out and turned back up PCH. The beach I was headed for was very secluded. I had discovered it once after getting lost on a hike during high tide. I had been there a dozen times and never seen anyone else. I wondered if it was supposed to be haunted or something, since every other beach was usually at least halfway full. Especially on days like today. I had a feeling it would still be empty, like it existed only for me. If I weren't already tiring of this superhero metaphor, I would refer to it as my Fortress of Solitude. If I wasn't tired of the metaphor. I pulled off an unmarked road and drove down the hill a bit. I pulled into the parking lot and saw a couple of other cars. But, since this lot was for three or four different stretches of beach, I still wasn't concerned. I grabbed my stuff and started off down the trail. I immediately cursed myself for packing so much damn crap. It was an awkward climb down the steep path to the sand, but when I reached the bottom, I didn't see anyone. What I did see was a deep blue horizon, sun bouncing off the waves like a child skipping rope. A large, weather-beaten rock stood in the center, with a lone pine tree on top. I trudged to the far side of the beach, setting my small cooler and backpack in the sand. I kicked my shoes off and felt the warm sand dissolve into my toes. I spread my large checked blanket and spread out my stuff. I found a CD and started it playing as I dropped my shorts, leaving me only in swim trunks and a t-shirt. I plopped down on the blanket and pulled the shirt over my head. I spread sunscreen over my arms and chest, then my legs as the bouncy, beach CD I had burned played. As the Go-Go's sang about a vacation I laid back, my head resting against my balled t-shirt and shorts, and let out a long, deep breath. I was halfway through both the CD and a Heineken when I heard footsteps, scattering dust on the path above. I turned off the music and cocked my head to see who was coming. It was just my luck that today of all days, when I most wanted to be alone, I would be joined by a pack of rowdy teens or, worse, a fawning couple. Ick. The person, and it seemed to be only one, drew closer, finally coming into view around the rock. Shit. It was him. From the store. Cutest Boy in the World. Had he followed me? And did he get cuter in the last hour or something. "Hey!" he said, surprise in his voice. "I didn't think anyone would be here." "Hey. We just met, right?" Well, duh. "Yeah. I didn't follow you, I promise. You wanna be alone? You want me to go somewhere else?" Now my actions were directed either my deeply instilled sense of hospitality or my cock. Let's just pretend it was the former. "No. You don't have to go anywhere. There's plenty of beach." "Cool. Thanks dude." He was standing only a few feet from me now. He approached, his taut arm extended. "Owen." I reached my own hand out and felt a powerful grasp. There was a charge of something there. "Scott," I said, smiling. "Nice to meet you Owen." He stood for a moment, smiling at me, then turned and walked several yards down the beach, laying out a towel. "You don't have to turn your music off, dude." He was standing, kicking off his shoes. "It's just a CD I burned. Beach music sort of stuff." I tried to keep my eyes focused on the ocean, but the little buggers kept drifting back over to him. I guessed he was about 25. He was lean and muscular, but not a gym bunny. For this I was glad. I knew where that path led: cheating on me with other gym bunnies. His hair was a spiky, bottle blond tangle and his face was smooth and broad -- boyish even. I caught the motion of his shirt raising and looked over while his eyes were still covered. His large pink nipples capped a beautiful set of pecs. There was a tiny patch of hair between them. As he contorted his body to get the shirt off, I saw a flash of a six-pack. I think he caught me staring as I turned and pushed play on the stereo. A series of cuts from "Pet Sounds" began. "Beach Boys. Cool." There was a nice sincerity in his voice. "It's a little on the nose, but... You're gonna burn up if you don't put some sunscreen on." "I put it on earlier," he shrugged. Damn, there went the only beach pick-up line I knew. But, Hell, I didn't even know if he was gay. He had called me dude a couple times already, which usually meant straight. He lay down on his stomach, his face turned to the side, toward me. I saw his eyes close and lowered myself back down. We lay there for a while, listening to the music. When the CD ended, I reached for another one. "Hey, you like Jimmy Eat World?" I asked. Most of my musical taste was either eclectic or arcane, so I went with the more recognizable current choice. His eyes opened. "Sure." I pushed play and lay back down. "Hey, Scott," Owen whispered, as if we could be overheard. "You get high?" "What?" I was startled. The answer was yes, but I was still caught off guard. "You smoke weed?" He was on his side now, his hairy legs scissored and his arms flexed. "Yeah, actually." Was he a narc or something? Yeah, right, Scott. Brilliant. He wasn't a narc. "Cool." He rose and grabbed something out of his pack. I scooted over and sat up on the blanket. He approached me, smiling slyly, then plopped cross-legged next to me. "Here," he said, handing me a joint and lighter. "You first." I took the joint to my lips and lit the tip. The smoke filled my lungs with coarse fingers. I handed him the joint, coughing. "That's it dude," he said, smiling. "The more you cough, the more you get off." I chuckled as the smoke left my lungs. That was my freshman year roommate's personal motto. Owen inhaled expertly and passed the joint back to me. We sat and talked. I made contact with his hazel eyes a little more than usual. He was 25, visiting some relatives in the city from his home in Seattle. "When do you go back?" I asked, a little too curiously. "Couple weeks. I might move out here." "Cool." There was a beat. "Tell me about yourself, dude." I wanted to reach out and touch him, flaying my fingers like a spider over his chest, but I wasn't ready to try anything. I told him I was 28, born in L.A. I told him a little about my job as a production assistant for movies. He was interested so I described movie sets a bit. As the weed kicked in, we both began to relax. Suddenly I realized we were both lying on the blanket, staring at the horizon. Owen rolled up on his side, facing me. I felt his fingers softly graze my chest hair. "Can I kiss you, dude?" I turned my head to find those hazel eyes with their glints of gold staring straight into my own. I turned my body to face him. He arm gently slid up from my chest to the back of my head. With a bit of force, he pulled my lips into his own. I was struggling to see through a haze of pot and lust. He opened his mouth and closed it on my lower lip. I opened my lips, asking silently for his tongue. I felt it slide in like a tender, soft lava flow. I reached up and ran my fingers in his spiky hair. It was surprisingly soft. Our legs began to braid themselves together as we pulled each other closer. My hairy chest made contact with him and I immediately pulled him closer. We were kissing intensely now, our tongues doing a seductive dance. His mouth left mine and he licked a trail to my ear, taking the lobe in and sucking. "I'm so glad we ended up at the same beach," I said, my breath light and intoxicated. "Dude, I totally followed you." I felt his hot breath carry the words into my ear. I guess it should have creeped me out, but instead I was turned on all the more. This guy wanted me; he even hiked to get to me. This was the exact boost my battered ego needed. Still, I couldn't believe it was happening. This guy was beautiful, far prettier than me. Sure, I had been told I was cute before, but I hadn't set foot in a gym in a year and my muscles were a little deflated. I felt his hands in my dark brown, wavy hair and prayed this wasn't a dream. "Come on," he said. In a second, he was pulling me up by the hand and dragging me at a run to the shoreline. Our feet hit the cold water and he stopped, throwing his arms around me and craning his neck to kiss me. I took his tongue into my mouth and flayed my hands on his back muscles. He turned so his back faced the horizon and pulled me further out into the water, our hands locked together. The water was cool, but not unbearable and my legs soon adjusted. The wet sand sank gently beneath my feet as the currents jostled us gently into each other. We were waste deep in the water when Owen ducked his head and began sucking on my neck. I threw my head back, staring into the clean blue sky. He kissed my shoulder, then my clavicle, then licked his way to my right nipple. I felt his tongue cover it as his hot mouth closed around it. "You are so hot," I hissed. "So are you, dude." He moved to my left nipple, taking it in and making it stand, hard. His head came back up and he peered into my blue eyes. "I want to make love to you. Right here." "Are you sure?" I asked, mesmerized by him. I felt his hands snake their way down my back and cup my ass. "Fuck, yeah," he said, seething with desire. He once again thrust his tongue into my mouth, this time much harder and with more passion. My own hands were now on his ass, pushing out granite cocks together. His fingers were at the waistband of my trunks and I felt them giving way, lowering in the water. I thumbed his shorts and began pulling them down as well. The trunks were now at my ankles and my seven-inch cock was bobbing at the water line. Owen looked down, and then gave me a hungry smile. I shimmied his Speedo down his hairy legs, seeing his own lovely uncut member rise in the water. We grabbed our trunks and threw them to the shore. The ocean was our only clothing now. I felt his hand close around my cock, gently stroking it in the water. His own dick was sliding past his hand, poking me gingerly. I reached up and pushed the two cocks together, stroking them together. He laid his arms down, letting his hands float in the water. The his fingers closed around my arms and pulled me deeper into the water. We were up to our nipples now and his legs were wrapped around and through mine. I had to hold him tight to keep him upright. His cock pressed itself against my hairy stomach and he began sliding it back and forth. I opened my mouth and sucked hard on his neck. I was going to leave a reminder for him. He pulled away quickly and took a deep breath, then submerged. I saw his head go under and his blond hair sway a little the current. Then I felt his warm, soft mouth close around my cock. My eyes rolled up in my head as his expert tongue caressed me underwater. Then I felt a rush of feathery currents swirl around my dick and saw tiny bubbles break on the surface of the water. I let out a deep moan as he released me and came back up for hair. This guy was a little crazy. "What was that?" I asked as I looked down into his smirking face. "Just wanted to try something." Before he could even stand up, my own lungs were full of air and I was diving down. I had my eyes closed, so I could only feel. The hard head of his cock brushed my nose and I opened my mouth, taking him in. I sucked gently, then, just as he had done, exhaled. The bubbles made him dick bob around in my mouth. I was out of breath, so I resurfaced to find his head thrown back and a scream on his voice. He relaxed and stared back in my eyes. His fingers locked in mine as he pulled me toward the shore. As we ran, we stumbled into each other, our cocks rubbing against the silky wet flesh. When we were up to our calves in the water, he collapsed under me, and I fell on top of him. "I've always wanted to do it in the surf." There was a devious smile on his pink lips. "Me, too," I breathed. I was sure any number of the houses along the rim of the coast could have seen us, but this was a once in a lifetime opportunity that I was not going to forgo. His hands locked around the back of my neck and he pulled me in for another deep kiss. Our wet, slippery bodies were rubbing everywhere, forcing our cocks together. The waves were coming every 30 seconds or so, crashing over us, up to his chest, then washing back out, trying to pull our joined bodies with them. It gave me the feeling that time was standing still. I think we both desperately wanted to be fucked, but neither wanted to be the first to say it. But I had let him lead up to this point, so it seemed only fair to make a request. I pressed my face into the side of his face, my nose running through his wet hair until my mouth was at his ear. "Please fuck me, dude," I said. He turned his face and kissed my cheek. "Yes, sir." He was excited. He rolled me on my side and got up. I watched his perfect, dimpled ass as he bent over and grabbed something out of his magic backpack. "You better rinse off. Sand doesn't really help." He had a point. I ran out into the surf and ducked my body under, letting the waves lick the sand off my body. I heard him coming behind me and stood up. His hands wrapped around me as he kissed the nape of my neck. I turned around and he once again led me to shore. When we had reached the blanket, he looked at me. "How do you wanna do this?" he asked. "I wanna see you." I lay down on my back and looked up at him. The boyish face was beaming. He knelt at my side and rubbed his hands up and down my chest. He leaned in and offered me his tongue as he threw his legs over me and lay down. He grabbed my hands and held them out to the sides as he kissed my chin, then down my Adam's apple. His fingers rubbed the soft skin under my forearms as I felt him inch his cock down my body. He continued tracing a path with his fingers and his tongue until I felt warm breath on my cockhead. Taking a breath, he dove down on my cock, swallowing it to the bush. I let out a loud moan as my eyes rolled back. He held me in, massaging me with his tongue and throat. Then he came up for air and smiled at me. "I love that cock," he said. He lapped my balls, then sucked them into his mouth. I could hear him opening a wrapper and covering his shaft. His tongue traced down my perineum and them gently flicked my hole. My whole body shuddered. My hole opened slowly for his gentle tongue. Then I felt him fold it to a point and stick it in powerfully. Another shudder crashed over me. "I want you to keep from cumming as long as you can, okay?" I nodded. He rose up on his knees and lined himself up. The warm tip lightly pressed into my rosebud and I did my best to relax for him. Little by little I felt him invade me. The cold water had made me tighter than usual and it was a little painful as he entered me. But the constricting and relaxing muscles were driving him wild. I breathed deeply, opening myself up to him until I felt his wet bush against my balls. He looked down at me and bit his lip. I was positive he could see the sheer need on my face. Achingly, he pulled himself out and a groan wended its way up from my stomach. "You feel so good," I growled. He pushed himself back in. The pain was subsiding, and instead I was melting into pure pleasure. Slowly, he kept fucking me, pushing in to the hilt then withdrawing. My own body was desperate for him and I started pushing harder into his cock. He took the clue and increased his pace as he leaned down and grabbed fists of the blanket. I looked up at his face hovering above me, his firm arm muscles doing everything they could to keep from collapsing. The sound of waves crashed in my ears as he pounded, faster and faster. Our wet bodies slapped together with more and more force. His face was screwed into rictus of lust. "I'm gonna cum, man!" he screamed as I felt bolts of heat inflate the condom inside me. "Ahhhhhhhhh!" I reached for my cock, but he pushed my hand away, still grinding into me. He slowed to a stop, then loomed over me, panting for a moment. I felt his hand on my hardening cock as he threw his body to my side. He released my dick and turned away and I heard another rip of plastic. With lightning hands, he held my shaft and unfurled a condom on it. Then, he threw his leg over and stood up, straddling me. He opened his mouth to speak, but I think my broad smile told him what he needed to know. I held my sheathed cock straight up and his knees bent. He kissed my head with his second mouth, then took a deep breath. Forcing himself down, his hole opened up willingly to my steel girder of a dick. In one motion, he had taken me in, letting out a booming, echoing moan in the process. He sat on me, panting as his hole relaxed around me. It was warm and tight and he obviously had experience. I saw his hairy legs tense and he began slowly rising and falling on my cock. I was grabbing at the blanket and moaning. Any inhibitions, any thought of my life in the city was being carried out to sea. His tight hole was gripping me tightly, almost sucking me. I reached up and took each of his nipples into a hand. "Yeah, that's so good," he panted. I was thrusting up into him now, every muscle in my body tense and ready for release. He rose and fell faster and faster, squeezing and stroking my cock harder and harder. I felt the cum build in my balls. I bit my lip and grunted. Like missiles, I felt the waves of cum shoot up my cock and into the rubber. I threw my hand around his re-hardened cock and stroked vigorously as I came. He threw his head back and we screamed together as a few spurts of cream shot from his cock. He slowed his body as my cock softened inside him, then he collapsed on top of me. The mix of sweat and saltwater on our skin made us slick and warm. His breath washed against my neck as he composed himself. My cock slipped out of him with a pop. We lay there for several minutes, just catching our breath. "That was incredible," I said, my eyes still closed. "Oh yeah. You were so good." "Me?" I said, kissing his wet hair. He raised his head and looked down at me, smiling. Then he lowered his mouth for a soft, sweet kiss. We stayed like that for a while longer, then I offered him a sandwich. We ate and drank, lying naked on the blanket facing each other. As the sun lowered moved out of sight and the light became amber, we put on our suits and sat, arms around each other, looking at the sunset. We redressed and packed up our stuff. As we walked up the trail to our cars, Owen turned to me. "Hey, Scott." "Yeah." "I'm gonna be in town for a couple more weeks. You want to get together or something?" He was a little nervous. "Definitely," I said. It was an opportunity I couldn't pass up. I wasn't really ready for a relationship, but his leaving meant we could have one hell of a fling. He closed the trunk of his rental car and looked over at me. I smiled at him and held out a piece of paper with my number. He walked over to me and took it, the stared back at me with those hazel eyes. I cocked my head and leaned in to his soft lips. We said our goodbyes and I drove out, still high on him. When I got home, I had a new energy. Most of the bitterness I was consumed with had been left on the beach. I looked at my answering machine, with it's blinking light, and immediately slammed my finger down on the delete button. It was after I pushed it that I saw there was a new message, now lost. Luckily, Owen called back the next day.