[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.My breath was coming in short gasps.The air smelled like lavender and salt, and Mike’s body was hot next to mine.He threw back his head and howled like a wolf at the moon, and I laughed and then my body contorted in spasms as he shot up my ass and then I spurted into the bathwater.I slid backward, releasing Mike’s dick from the grasp of my ass, and slumped against the wall of the Roman tub.Mike looked like he was having trouble catching his breath.We sat there, grinning stupidly at each other, our legs touching, until the water got cold.“More surfing tomorrow,” Mike said, with a grin, as he stood up.“Maybe I’ll show you who’s really Mr.Surfer in this household.”I stood up next to him, the water cascading around us, and wrapped my arms around his back.“I don’t care which one of us is best at riding the waves,” I said.“As long as I can keep riding you.”I felt his dick stiffening against me, and mine stiffened in return.“Somebody’s ready for another ride,” Mike said.In one fluid motion, he grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder once again.I grabbed hold of his asscheeks as he stepped out of the tub and headed toward the bed.We’d see who had energy left for surfing the next day.SURFING BONEYARDP.A.BrownThe first two waves closed out and dumped me in the rough surf of the Boneyard.It was a cool morning, with an early fog just beginning to burn off.I had driven in from Monterey at daybreak, determined to catch the best waves before the tourist rush.With only the sea lions to watch, it was exhilarating to challenge the gnarly reef and not end up smeared all over it as another statistic for the Boneyard.The kind of statistic my pitiful sex life had been that summer, a boneyard of wasted effort.It was a lot easier to come to the shore and lose myself in the waves than try to activate a life beyond the beach.I took my first fall in a comber that blew out and dumped me into mush you couldn’t ride.If it wasn’t for my rash guard I’d have been scratched up pretty bad.Boneyard wasn’t called that for nothing.It was almost as famous for the injuries and even deaths it caused as it was for the spectacular surf it offered.I spotted him when I came in on my second set.He was lean and blond and scrambled gracefully down the rock bowl toward me, his hair tousled and framing an arresting face that riveted me.When he came closer I saw he had the most brilliant green eyes I’ve ever seen on anyone, and a lithe body I just knew was packed with hard muscles.I’d never seen him around Monterey before.He definitely wasn’t a local.Fortunately he was tricked out in a supertight Hurley rash guard that didn’t leave anything to my overactive imagination and a pair of board shorts that hid way more than was cool.Woof, the guy was hot.It wasn’t fair that someone so perfect could be at the beach instead of back in my room, spread out on my bed, with me doing unspeakable things to him; his cock in his hand, waxing himself up, those sexy half-lidded eyes watching me.He licked his lips and I almost came right then and there.I hid my massive hard-on by lying down on my gun board.Damn, I needed to get laid in the worst way.It had been what, six, seven days? Too long.I paddled out farther, seeking out that mystical perfect wave.I was more into finessing the surf than hotdogging it.I treated each set like the waves were the greatest lays I ever had and I wanted each one to last forever, not that my reality was ever that good.The next thing I knew my stud muffin was paddling alongside my board.I lay my head sideways and watched him glide into place, the smooth muscles of his arms moving effortlessly through the cool Pacific surf.Water glistened on his tanned face and I longed to lick the drops off.By then my cock was so hard, it was making a dent in my polystyrene board and it hurt like a bitch.But I couldn’t do anything about it without giving away that I was as hard as a rock.I’d come out to surf, not get my ass kicked by some pissed-off grunt.I smiled at him and he grinned back.“Hi.Clean day, isn’t it?” I asked.He nodded—the strong, silent type; my favorite kind, unless they were in my bed, and then I wanted them to howl along with me.There was a light offshore breeze, so the wave faces were smooth and there was hardly any chop.The Boneyard was gnarly enough without having to fight strong winds, too.Off to my left, a girl I’d seen around was cooking.She slithered up on her egg board, a smaller one used by beginners and for tricks.The curl she was trying to ride buckled under her and got messy.Before she could react she was over the falls, tumbling through the air, her stick, unleashed, flying in the opposite direction.“Crazy bitch,” I muttered, totally unimpressed with amateurs who didn’t know their own limitations.The stranger must have heard me.“She is your girlfriend?” he said, speaking with an odd accent.“Fuck no,” I said forcefully, trying to place the accent.Not Spanish, that was for sure.I was pretty familiar with that, after a decade spent in L.A.Not French, either.And he sure wasn’t Asian.I studied him, liking what I saw more and more.I wanted to make it clear that I wasn’t into women.“Don’t know her at all
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]