Date: Wed, 29 Apr 1998 16:55:51 -0500
From: jocktime@hotmail.com
Subject: Rococo Beach (Part 7) (Conclusion)

                        Rococo Beach
                        Part 7 (Conclusion)


   "What are you doing?"

   I couldn't believe it.  Nobody ever went into coach's room without
asking permission first.  And here Tommy Burge was, while coach was
stroking my dick and I was touching his balls, asking us what was going
on.

   "Come here, Burge," coach said.  And when Tommy stood beside us as
we sprawled on the bed, he continued, "What does it look like we're
doing?"

   Coach could be intimidating.  But Tommy was looking at coach's great
body: muscles everywhere, and one big dick, magnificently pointing
upward.  Tommy's eyes were as big as saucers.

   Coach sat up and reached over, pulling Tommy by the shoulder.  "You
like what you see, huh, Tommy?"

   He reached down to Tommy's shorts and yanked them down.  Tommy
wasn't wearing any underwear.  That dick of his was as hard as it had
been in the back seat of the car when I had been giving it the massage
of a lifetime.  The tip of the head still had a drop of moisture on it.

   Coach's eyes twinkled.  "Do you know what to do with that thing
you've got down there?  It looks like it wants some action."

   Tommy stood like he was in a trance.  His shorts were down at his
knees, and I could see the thatch of hair surrounding his dick.  He
finally came to, blinked, and said, "I don't work on mine the way some
other guys do.  I want to be a big athlete some day."

   My mind went back to the ride down in Danny's car, when we first
came to Rococo Beach.  I remembered how Martin said he always beat off
just before a game, because he claimed it made him feel so damned
rugged.  And then I realized that the whole event seemed so long ago,
as if we had been here at the beach for months.

   Coach reached over and stroked Tommy's dick.  "If you want to do
what the really big athletes do, you'll jack off all the time."  As he
stroked that dick, Tommy shuddered from the thrill.  I bet that before
today, no guy had ever touched his dick.  And from the way he held back
while I was stroking it in the car, I felt sure that nobody had ever
made him shoot off.

   I got up off the bed, with my hard dick bouncing in the air, and
stood behind Tommy, stroking that round, smooth, white butt of his.  I
noticed that Tommy's trembling increased.

   As if to keep him from shooting off too soon, coach stopped and just
stroked Tommy's pubic hair.  "What were you doing hitch hiking like
that when we saw you?"

   It occurred to me that I would have wondered the same thing, if it
had not been for the pressure of the approaching storm and the search
for Dogwater.  With all that going on, I had not really questioned
anything.  I continued rubbing Tommy's butt, and saw that he was
beginning to get something like goosebumps on it. He must be real
sensitive to being touched.

   Tommy waited a moment before he replied.  He sounded a little
guarded in his answer.  "There was a problem at home, and I was just
getting away for a while."

   Coach responded sympathetically, but sounded worried as well.  "Did
you run away?  Do your folks know where you are?"

   I stopped rubbing his butt. This didn't seem to be the time for that
sort of stuff.  But I vowed to try to get to do it later.

   "It just happened this morning.  We were staying about 5 miles down
the beach at a place my grandfather built. My folks got to arguing and
I decided to split and stay on the beach for a few days.  Sleep there
at night.  I've done it before - but I had permission those times."

   "So you haven't really been gone that long."

   "No.  They probably didn't even know I had slipped out until the
storm came.  And maybe they will think I've gone over to friends'
houses to stay."

   Before we could say anything more, there was a terrific roar of
wind, and something crashed with a terrific din on the roof of the
cabin.  Coach grabbed his shorts instantly, pulling them up as he ran
into the main room.  Tommy and I did likewise.  Tommy's bone was so
hard it stuck out from the bottom of his little short pants, pointing
forward like a spear.  For myself, I was glad my shorts had a longer
length to the legs.

   The main room was still intact, but the edge of the roof had begun
to pull up at the eves on one side.  Wind-blown rain was coming in the
narrow opening in sheets, and the gale itself was working on the edge
of the roof, trying to roll it back more.  Danny and Dogwater had
their flashlights on, trying to assess the damage.

   "Are you two all right?" Coach asked.

   They nodded.  Danny started to say something, then spied Tommy and
changed his mind.  Shining his flashlight on him, Danny grinned evilly
and asked, "Whatcha got there, Tommy?"  The light showed the strong,
firm dickhead poking out raising the leg of the shorts.

   "Don't waste time," coach commanded, "we've got to get those
mattresses out of the way of the rain or they'll be ruined.  We better
pull the iron bunks too, since they'll rust."

   We set to work.  The roar of the wind and the sound of the sheets of
rain pounding down seemed to give everybody extra energy to get things
done as quickly as possible.  I tried to work near Tommy, to get
another eyeful of the dick and see when it would finally go down, but
Dogwater in his constant quest for dick sizes stayed too close to him
for me to get in.  Dogwater's a great guy, but I think sometimes he
overdoes it.

   It must have been nearly dawn when the rain stopped and the winds
finally died down.  Now everything was just muggy, humid, sticky, and
really, really awful.  Naturally there was no electricity, which meant
no air conditioning.  We were dripping sweat, and a quick look at
people's trunks assured me everybody's dick was definitely down.

   We sat down finally and ate what food we had, and waited for the sun
to come up.  When it did, the beach was a mess.  The waves had eroded a
good part of the area where we had sat out there the day before.  The
winds had carried all sorts of debris: pine limbs, palm branches, bits
of roofing.  Really, just about anything that wasn't as heavy as a car.
It would be a long time before the beach would look as nice as it did
before the storm.

   I knew what storms like this did to the water itself. All kinds of
stinging fish and exotic sea life from out in the Gulf would be blown
in.  You didn't dare try to go swimming, because you couldn't tell what
was out there or how painful and maybe dangerous its bite or sting
might be.

   I didn't know where my watch was, or what the time was, but it must
have been about 7:30 when the beach officer knocked on the door to ask
how we were.  I felt sorry for him: he looked like he had been up all
night.  But then I realized we had been up all night too, so I guess
we must have looked as bad as he did.

  "I want to ask for your help.  I've got a couple of families down the
road that need someone to stay with the children while they take some
of the sick family members to the doctor's.  Could I take a couple of
your guys?"

   I could imagine me and Tommy being left here.  That thought seemed
real appealing.  But coach spoke up and said, "Tommy, you and Dogwater
go with the beach patrol."  Then turning to me, he said, "You and Danny
stay here with me."

   "Sir," the patrolman interrupted, "could you take them?  I'm needed
down the road.  Here's the two addresses."

   "Sure," coach said.



   After the patrolman was gone, and coach had taken the "baby-sitters"
to their jobs, Danny and I were alone.  I just sat on the waterlogged
edge of a mattress, feeling squishy and tired.

   Danny came and sat beside me.  "What was going on with you all in
coach's room last night?"

   His question didn't sound evil-minded, just curious.  I was glad of
that.  "Nothing much, Danny.  But why did Tommy charge in like that?
Doesn't he know coach's room is off limits without permission?"

   "Well, I guess being new as a transfer student, and considering how
he hadn't really been part of our group, I guess there wasn't much way
for him to know the rules."  That made sense to me.  Then Danny gave
me a grin, and this one really was evil minded, "Did you see that bone
on him while we were working on the mattresses?  I don't know how he
could keep it that hard that long without shooting off or going crazy."

   I probably had an evil grin too.  "Yeah, and with those little short
pants on, the head of that thing kept wanting to stick out the bottom.
I swear I was tempted to grab the bottom of the shorts leg and lift it
up and holler 'Look!' or something."

   "That little warhead would have jumped right out of there if you
had tried that!"  I could tell that Danny was getting into the spirit
of things.  Maybe it was the effect of the storm, or maybe because we
were getting so dead tired, but I began to get a really light-headed
feeling.  It was like nothing mattered that much to worry about.

   Danny edged over toward me, and I could see the bulge in his crotch
area,  He put his hand on my shoulder, and asked, "Do you remember that
night in the gym last spring?"

   "Yeah."  I remembered that monster dick of his and how it had felt
going into me.  I remembered too how great it felt to have that hot,
strong body pushing into mine.  I could feel again his hands
reaching around me from behind, taking my brick hard dick and working
on it with his fingers while he slammed his dick into my butt.  I could
smell the smells, and remember how wild it all felt, and then suddenly
I knew that I wanted it again.

   Danny's giant hands reached over and began rubbing me between the
legs.  His grin was happy and his eyes glowed with a warmth that seemed
to turn me on with it.  He began slipping my shorts off, and I reached
over and slid my hand up his shorts to where the massive hard dick was
straining to get out.  When I slid my fingers around it, massaging the
head and feeling the slick precum that was already oozing out, I felt
Danny vibrate, and heard him begin that soft moan that he had when he
was on the way to shooting off.

   "God but you know how to do me," Danny groaned as his voice got
huskier.  He had me completely stripped now, and he was playing with
my nuts with his left hand, while his right was doing a tattoo on my
dickhead.  I could feel that my dick was dripping almost as much as
his.  I knew I was straining as hard as I could, as if my dick was a
sausage wanting to bust out of the wrapper.

   I still hadn't gotten his shorts off, but I was concentrating more
on his dick than on how to get it out.  It felt so great to be working
that thing, to make it jump and practically sing as my fingers worked
away on it.  I began to discover that different movements and strokes
produced different reactions in Danny.  Fingers across the top of the
head and on the piss-slit made him begin to hump, while a tight
squeeze of the massive dick head between my thumb and first two
fingers made him squeeze his butt cheeks and thighs together.

   What power!  I suddenly was controlling Danny's reactions.  I could
feel his hot breath coming in sex-driven gasps against my chest where
he was resting his head.  At the same time, his left hand had moved
from my nuts to my butt.  He was pushing a couple of fingers up my
ass.

   I leaned over into his face and said, "Don't handle anything you
don't intend to eat, Danny."  He burst out laughing.

   "You stupid fuck!  Lemme pull my own shorts off for you.  It don't
seem like you know how to get a guy's pants off."  He was obviously
happy, like a little kid, just innocently having fun.  Like I always
say, when you're young and horny and jacking off, it seems like the
world will last forever.

   He twisted around, pulled his fingers out of my butt and let go of
my dripping dick, and yanked his shorts off.  His pole came up like a
rocket ready for launch, bobbing happily right in front of my face.  I
reached over and pulled it toward me, opening my mouth for the great
warhead to enter.

   Danny settled in for the time being, letting me suck while his
fingers went up by butt again.  He would get two of them in, then
slowly begin to spread them.  He must have remembered from last time
that doing that drove me wild.  With two fingers up my ass, he used his
thumb on the outside to massage the spot between my balls and my hole,
as if he wanted to feel his thumb touching his fingers through my
skin.  That began making me feel like I was about to take off into
space.  It got so I was vibrating so hard from the emotion that I
couldn't do much more sucking on his dick.  He pulled it out of my
mouth, and began giving my dick a hand job.

   At the moment when I was about to shoot off, he took his hand off
and took my dick in his mouth.  It was heaven.  I shot and shot and
shot.  It was not until it was all over that I realized that his dick
was still ramrod hard and his fingers and thumb were still holding
me by the butt, still massaging the hell out of that area.

   "Now I get my fun," Danny said, his dick still oozing masses of
sticky stuff.  He pulled his fingers out, smeared the precum all over
the gleaming head, and turned me on my stomach.  He began inserting
that thing up by butt.

   I lay across the bed sideways, with my legs on the floor and him
between them, thrusting that thing in and out.  It was great.  All
that work he had done with his fingers had limbered me up, and his dick
was so slick that it didn't hurt.  It was like having some greased
mop handle going way up inside me and coming almost all the way out
with each thrust.

   Danny got really carried away, slapping me on the butt or biting me
on the shoulder or pulling my head back by the hair.  He was having a
ball.  I was too.  When he finally came, I was almost ready to shoot
off again myself.


   After it was over, we showered and dressed again.  We were ready
when coach came back.  Coach looked tired.

   "The area is a mess.  It's going to take a long time for things to
get back in order.  I left Tommy and Dogwater as baby-sitters.  I know
those two families, and they said they would bring them back to town
tonight.  Now I better get you two boys back to town before your folks
start wondering what happened to you."

   And that was how we started back.  Danny and coach sat up front,
and I sat in the back.  All I could see were downed trees and power
lines, and debris scattered everywhere.  Small bits of black clouds
still scurried angrily across the sky, momentarily blotting out the
sun.

   I was glad I had been able to come here.  I knew it would be a long
while before any of us would come back again.  My life lay ahead of me,
back home with family and friends and my world back there.  I was glad
I had had the chance to meet Gary, and I felt like he would be my new
best friend, especially when school started up again in the fall.  I
was interested in Tommy too, but for different reasons and in a
different way.

   I felt like my life had taken a turn for the better somehow.  As
the road turned to the right, I took one last look backward at the
beach and the Gulf.  I imagined that I could still hear, far out where
the waves broke, the lost and anguished sound of the sea gulls.

                   (The End)
__________________________________________________________________
Thanks for the comments and suggestions. Further adventures will
have a new title.  Comments are always welcome.
jocktime@hotmail.com