Date: Sun, 07 Aug 2022 22:24:24 +0000 From: keithflagg Subject: A Day at the Beach (Gay Young Friends) A Day at the Beach By Keith Flagg Please help out the folks at Nifty! Donate today. And if you want to give me feedback on my story, write me at keithflagg@protonmail.com. When I was five, my dad worked for a California aerospace company that closed down for 2 weeks every year to perform maintenance on the shops, machinery, and equipment. The company had a private park for employees and their guests, so I kept bugging my dad to take me since he had 2 weeks off. Unfortunately, we didn't know the park was closed too, so instead we had to go to a beach that was about 20 miles away. It was located on the northern side of Malibu, and most people called it the Topanga Canyon Beach. It wasn't as popular as the Malibu or Zuma beaches because there was a rock outcropping leading down to the shore. It was okay for me though, because there were swings, teeter totters, and these horses mounted upon springs to rock on. At first, we were the only ones there. I was wearing shorts, tennis shoes, socks and a tee shirt, since we'd expected to be going to a park, not the beach. Dad said I could take my shoes and socks off but to leave my shirt and shorts on so I wouldn't burn and to stay out of the water since we hadn't brought towels. I didn't mind; I was content with playing on the swings. Dad pushed me in the swings until he got tired. Then he set up his reclining patio chair and sat with the sun to his back and slid his hat down over his eyes. I kept playing. After maybe 20 minutes, some other people showed up and set up behind us by the outcropping. They had a boy that looked to be my age. I watched them as I played. It was funny because the parents were dressed like they were going to the beach but the boy looked like he was going to church. He had dress pants on, button down shirt, dress shoes, and even a tie. They spread out a blanket, then set up a big beach umbrella. The dad took out a camera and tripod. Now I was even more curious about what they were going to do. They were close enough I could hear them talking about where the boy should stand. There was a clump of seaweed off to the side so they had him go over by it. The dad started taking pictures of him in various positions at first, then told the mom to start taking his clothes off, which she did all the while his dad was taking pictures. Although the surf was crashing onto the sand, I could still hear their conversation. The boy's name was Bradley. I wandered back over by my dad and stretched out on my tummy on the sand, watching them with my chin resting on my arms. Bradley's dad stopped taking pictures and said, "Okay, pull his pants down." "All the way?" she asked. "No. Just to his knees." Bradley turned to face his mom, and she undid his pants and slid them down. After a few more pictures, the dad said, "Okay, take them the rest of the way off." Now the boy was just in his underwear. After a few underwear pictures, the dad said, "Brad, how about pulling the front of your undies down like you have to pee?" The boy hooked his thumbs in his underwear and pulled the front of them down. This really sparked my interest seeing another boy's dinger. Mine popped out to its full two inches of hardness. Ever since I'd turned four, I had discovered how good it felt to rub my dinger against the floor while laying on my tummy in the carpet. Every Saturday morning, I would lay under one of the end tables by the couch with the middle snaps of my PJs open, watching Bugs Bunny and Road Runner, thrusting and grinding against the carpet. I could get that warm flushing feeling over and over, sometimes as many as four times while I watched cartoons. While watching Bradley with his dinger hanging out above his underwear, I worked the front of my shorts and underwear down so my boner was poking into the soft sand. It didn't press back at all, so I reached my hand down under me and pushed my hips against my own hand. I suppose if anyone had been paying attention, they would have known right away what I was doing. Brad's dad told him to pull his underwear down. The mom asked if he wanted them all the way off. His dad said, "No. Just down enough so he's showing it all." She pulled the underwear down to just above Brad's knees. All this time, the dad was snapping pictures. After a bit, the mom slid his underwear down to his ankles. Finally, the dad asked her to take the underwear off and toss them aside. "Did you give him a bath before we came?" the dad asked. "Yes, he's all clean," the mom replied. Brad's dad took the camera off the tripod and began taking pictures of Brad's dinger and butt up close, at one point asking him to bend over. "I can't get a good shot," the dad said after a while, so Brad's mom pulled his butt cheeks apart while his dad took more pictures. While she was doing that, the mom looked my way, so she knew I was watching. His dad stopped and said he had to run back to the car for more film. As he walked past me, he said, "Hi there, young man." The mom pointed to me and said, "Brad, go say hi." Naked Bradley ran over and said hi, then ran back. We were only five, so we didn't have a lot to say, I guess. Brad's dad returned quickly with new film loaded in the camera. He took a few more shots of Brad, then said, "Okay, Brad, can you make your weiner hard? Do you want your beach ball or a toy?" Bradley said he wanted a toy, so his mom pulled a stuffed animal out of a bag and gave it to him. He stretched out on the blanket and lined up and started thrusting against the stuffed animal like I did against my bed and the floor. As he was doing that, his dad said, "That's it. Make it all big." Soon, Brad moved the stuffed toy aside to show he had a boner. I thought they'd stop taking pictures and have Brad put on a swimsuit. But they didn't. They kept taking more and more pictures. The swings were just on the other side of where they set up. I slipped my dinger back in my shorts and walked over to lay down on my stomach in one of the swings. I wanted to be closer and watch what Brad was doing. It wasn't long before Brad and his dad walked over to where I was. I was embarrassed because I'd been caught watching Brad. His dad said, "Hello there again. Do you want to play with my son?" I nodded. "How old are you?" he asked. "Five." "Brad is five too. He just turned five." I couldn't help myself. I kept staring at Brad's dinger. "What's your name?" asked the dad. "Kyle." "Have you ever seen another boy naked, Kyle?" "Ummm, no." He pulled his boy in front of him and walked him closer. "You haven't? Well, Brad, is it okay if he looks at your weenie?" Bradley looked up at his dad and nodded yes. Bradley's dad smiled and asked, "Is it okay if he feels your weenie?" Another nod, so I shyly reached out and touched his tube as his dad took pictures. As I felt Bradley's dinger, he got hard again. Then his dad said, "I bet Brad would like to see your weenie." Brad nodded his head in agreement. I said, "I think my dad would get mad if he saw me naked." "I have an idea," Bradley's dad said. "Turn your back to your dad and just pull the front of your pants down." So I stood up, turned around, and pulled the front of my shorts down, showing them my dinger. "You're a bit thicker than Brad is. How about you pull your shorts down and stand next to Brad?" I shook my head. "Dad might see me." Bradley's father motioned for us to follow him over to their big beach umbrella. He pulled it out of the sand and laid it on its side. "There. Now you two stand side by side." I stood next to Brad while the dad took more pictures. Then he said, "Okay, Kyle, can you pull your shorts down?" I looked around, kind of hesitating. His mom said, "Don't be shy. Bradley is naked, and there is no one around." I grabbed the sides of my shorts and pulled them to the ground. His dad said, "How about stepping out of those shorts and taking your shirt off so both of you are naked?" When I did what he asked, he said, "Maybe Bradley can feel your weenie and you can feel his again." I just shrugged my shoulders and said, "I guess." His mom said, "Go ahead, Bradley. Feel your little friend's weenie." Brad's mom looked at me and asked, "What do your mom and dad call it?" "It's my dinger," I replied. "Okay," she said, "reach out and touch Brad's dinger." Brad was now standing right in front of me. It was my first time seeing another boy up close. His looked just like mine, except his pee hole was more like a slit. Eventually, I gathered up enough courage to touch his dinger. Bradley just giggled, and that made me laugh. We began feeling each other, making our dingers stick up. Right then, my dad yelled for me. The mom said, "He's over here. Playing with our son." Dad said, "Oh. Okay. As long as he is behaving." I wasn't behaving. I was being a naughty little boy. We were both hard now and having fun rubbing our dingers and balls. "Look how much bigger his sack is," Bradley's dad said. Then he asked me, "Kyle, is your rear clean?" His mom said, "Bend over and let me check." While I did, she took a napkin and wiped my hole. I knew what was next as Brad and I stood side by side and bent over, showing our holes for the camera. Then we were on our backs with our legs pulled back showing everything. Brad's parents told us to play and don't be shy. So we did. We touched each other and rubbed our dingers together, giggling about how it felt. They didn't tell us what to do. We just had fun doing what little boys do with their favorite toy. It felt weird being able to touch his dinger and have him feeling mine. My mom always scolded me when I would play with myself in the bathtub, but there I was, outside, no one saying anything as we played naked with each other. Brad's dad had me lay down in the sand while Brad straddled my hips, rubbing his boner against my belly. My boner was against his balls. His dad had him move up a little and then his dad pulled my dinger out so that it poked against Brad's hole. My dinger kept slipping up under Bradley's balls, so Brad's dad reached under a few times to pull it back out to poke his hole. It had to be 20 minutes Bradley and I played, all the time being photographed. Finally, the mother said, "Well, it's time to go." She brushed off the sand in places I couldn't see and helped me get dressed again. Then they gathered up Bradley's clothes and put them in a bag. He led the way back to their car, butt naked. To this day, I often wonder what became of those pictures ...