we were the only people at the community pool

[somethingtosingabout]

well I got horny and started jerking off / writing, and now here's a bonus chapter I guess

BONUS CHAPTER: JAKE
Samir was making out with some random dude, like always, so Manny and I left Torso early. I know I'm only 27, but I've felt myself aging out of clubs like that since I was 25.

I work a high-profile ad sales job. I just can’t risk being seen in some seedy black room or wearing a skimpy outfit out on the town. Too many corporate fags lurking around every corner, always ready to get leverage on you.

Manny and I grabbed an Uber back to me and Samir's place. Manny sleeps there four times a week and tonight was one of those nights.

"Do you think Samir's okay on his own?" Manny looked at me, worried.

"You know he is," I replied, a little rehearsed. We’ve had this exact conversation in a hundred different Ubers.

Manny was always worried about everyone. It was sweet but it took up a lot of our nights. I just wanted to be home.

I took a shower as soon as we got in. No way was I getting into bed with the nastiness of the club still on my body. I wasn’t like this when I was younger, but I think COVID turned me into a germ freak.

Manny was more laissez-faire about germs. He likes to joke that I have some undiagonsed mental illness about germs, though it actually doesn't feel that much like a joke when we let ourselves think about it for longer than two seconds.

The good news is our shower is fucking incredible.

Off of Samir’s recommendation (definitely something he picked up from his job taking care of old people), we installed a bench and a handheld showerhead in the master bedroom where I sleep. Sorry. Primary bedroom. Samir's always on my ass about the language I use.

Manny had already crawled into bed, so I let myself enjoy a few extra minutes in the shower. I pulled the showerhead down toward my dick and let the water wash over my neatly trimmed pubes.

I lowered it beneath my balls, letting the water splash up from below to the tip of my dick, which started to perk up. I'm only two inches flaccid which fucking sucks. When I first started dating Manny, I only ever let him see my penis if I was hard. And even then, I'm just over four inches fully erect.

I hit the gym six days a week in the gayest neighborhood in town but I’ve never once let anyone see me naked there. I show up in my workout clothes and leave in them. Then I shower at home.

I keep myself in good shape, generally speaking. My body’s toned from years of high school lacrosse and now an adulthood of strategic HIIT workouts. I stay smooth, except for the conservative amount of body hair I keep, knowing Manny thinks it’s sexy. I like how I look for the most part. And Manny likes my small dick. He says it complements his sensitive gag reflex. We’re a match made in heaven (ha!).

I lifted my leg onto the bench, moved the showerhead further back then leaned forward a bit to open up my ass cheeks. When it hits at just the right angle, the water pressure feels better than a tongue. I hold it there and reach around with my other hand and start stroking myself off.

I didn't finish in the shower. I’m saving it for Manny, I thought. Either he’ll have the energy to fuck tonight, or, if not, I’ll let him watch me jerk off.

He told me once that he loves the face I make when I cum. Not just because it turns him on, though I hope it does, but because he says I look so happy and relaxed when it happens. He said the first time he saw my orgasm face, he knew he was in love with me.

I’ve been blowing loads for 12 years now, and he’s the only person who’s ever made it feel romantic.

************

I walked into the bedroom in just a pair of briefs.

Manny was reading a book. He and Samir are both nerds, or “intellectuals,” as they like to correct me.

I took the book out of his hand and moved it to the bedside table.

“Oh yeah?” Manny eyed me seductively.

I nodded, then closed my eyes and kissed him.

Manny’s a good half-foot taller than me, and everything about him is just bigger. His face. His full lips.

Sometimes we make out for hours at a time.

I slipped his shirt off and let my tongue work down his neck to his chest. I took his left nipple into my mouth. I know it’s the more sensitive one, and he leaned back, moaning in pleasure. I teased it, then bit down gently before suctioning it back into my mouth, my tongue flicking over it fast.

Manny reached into his boxer shorts to grab his cock but I stopped him. Not so fast.

I kissed down his body. His belly was pure muscle, but thanks to his build, it looks a little like a beer gut. I love it. I love laying on it, sleeping on it, kissing it even though I know he’s extremely ticklish there.

I moved further south.

I slid his boxers off and grabbed his half-hard cock. Uncircumcised. Perfectly proportionate to his body. Aka: fucking massive.

I looked him in the eye and let a string of spit fall from my mouth to the tip of his dick. Now that it was wet, I started to stroke him and he moaned again.

“Suck it?”

“Yes sir.” I’m not really a sub and Manny’s not really a dom, but we’ve adopted the language of BDSM as we see fit.

I worked my mouth around his cock, circling the tip with my tongue before taking him deeper. Unlike Manny, I’ve never had a gag reflex problem. And I could tell he was hungry for it tonight, so I didn’t make him wait long for his favorite part.

I took the full length of his shaft down my throat, then, once I reached the base, started licking his balls. It drives him crazy. I stayed there as long as I could. It’s like I hardly need oxygen when I’m this horny.

As I slowly released him from my throat, Manny guided me back up and kissed me. Then, with ease, he flipped me underneath him and returned the favor, taking my cock into his mouth.

It’s not exactly deepthroating when my dick is that small and his mouth is that big, but it still felt amazing to have him take all of me.

Then he started licking my balls while he jerked me off.

“Slow down,” I said, our code for you’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up.

He let go of my cock and lifted my hips into the air so he could eat me out. That feeling never gets old. His wet tongue circling the rim of my hole before plunging in deeper.

“Fuck me, please,” I whimpered impatiently.

“Let me grab the lube,” Manny said, reaching for the drawer.

“We don’t need it.”

Manny grunted. Suit yourself. He spit on his cock and stroked himself before slowly entering me.

I remember the first time Manny and I had sex. It hurt like hell. And then it was the best orgasm I’d ever had. If feeling that good meant getting split in half, so be it. I wanted him as deep in me as our bodies would allow.

Manny started with slow thrusts, but I was so fucking desperate I started grinding back against him faster and faster. He flipped me again so I was on top, riding him.

His eyes squeezed closed and his breaths shortened into staccato gasps.

“Slow down,” he said. I knew what that meant.

I rode him faster.

“Seriously, you’re gonna make me nut,” he warned.

“Cum inside me,” I begged.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned as I felt him release inside me, his cock pulsing deep against my tightness.

He pulled out slowly. I collapsed on the bed and he tossed me a towel for the cum now leaking from my ass.

“Do you want to finish?”

“No, I’m good.” And suprisingly, I meant it. It wasn’t always about cumming, as long as everyone had fun. I know Manny wanted to watch me finish. He probably would've licked up my nut from wherever it landed. He never missed a single drop. But I felt a little empowered leaving him wanting more tonight.

Besides, it's like my body somehow knew what was coming next.

Buzz buzz. A text from Samir lit up our group chat.

I opened it and read his message:
"Guys, I really fucked up."

 

[somethingtosingabout]

Chapter 9: Tommy
"I don't know if I'm bisexual, Tom. I'm just… curious. I've always been a little curious. Is that alright?"

Hal sounded defensive. I didn’t blame him. For all its laid-back charm, San Diego County wasn’t always the most open minded place to be. And Hal hardly knew me or where I stood on anything, really.

"Of course that’s alright," I said quickly. "I'm gay, man. I don’t give a shit about that stuff."

"The fuck? You are?" Hal looked genuinely surprised.

"Yeah..."

I thought telling him might make him feel more comfortable to talk about his feelings, but instead, he pulled further back. Hal reached for his shirt and pulled it on.

I took inventory of the situation. There was a gorgeous, drunk, bicurious man sitting beside me. A lesser man might’ve tried to take advantage of this situation but I felt strangely sober all the sudden. I just wanted to help him.

"It’s perfectly natural to be curious," I offered.

"I know that, mate."

"Is Katie upset about it?"

"She’s a progressive girl. She wants me to have my fun." He said flatly.

"So what’s the problem then?"

"I don’t know. What if it's not just fun. What if I unlock something I can’t ever put away? What if I’m never me again after this?"

"I get that. That’s a really normal feeling."

"So what’s the answer?"

"There isn’t one," I struggled to find the words. "But... maybe the version of ‘you’ that you think you are right now... maybe that’s not the full picture." I cringed at the clumsiness of my speech then tried again. "Or maybe you won’t be different at all. Or, like, you won't be a whole new you at least. Maybe you're just giving a new part of yourself a chance to stretch its legs or something."

"Bro, I don’t know what the fuck you’re saying right now," he whined, somehow sounding more British than ever.

I wasn’t good with words. I never had been. The beers weren't helping either, but honestly, who was I to be giving someone advice on how to be your authentic self?

"Can I ask you some questions?" I said, switching gears. Maybe this would work better if I let him do more of the talking.

"Go on," he muttered.

"Have you ever done anything with a guy before?"

"What, like had a wank with my boarding school mates? No. I’m not fucking posh. I didn’t grow up like that."

"What about team sports? Or a college fraternity? Did you ever do that kind of stuff?" I asked. Those were the usual sanctioned spaces where straight guys gave themselves permission to share affection and physical intimacy with one another.

"I never laid a finger on any of my boys."

I wasn’t trying to shame him or dig for dirty details. I just wanted to know what we were working with here.

"Do you remember the first time you felt curious about another guy?"

He paused somberly. It was like watching a lifetime pass behind his eyes.

"Christ," he muttered, cracking open another beer.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes," he said, with the slightest tilt of his head and a flicker of sass.

"Can you tell me about it? Tell me about him."

 

[janbelk]

Fuckkkk it’s awesome story!!!! Thanks for that Bro, and I will be waiting for more

 

[ItalMusc]

Stumbled onto this story and glad I did. Great, sexy fun. Well done twists and turns. I’m all in

 

[NakedBuddy]

Very engaging story so far…

 

[somethingtosingabout]

Dudes thank you! I'm about to publish my favorite chapter so far. It's a bit long and moves us out of first person POV, but I hope you like it!!

 

[somethingtosingabout]

Chapter 10: Hal and August

12 Years Ago.

"Can I get a pack of fags?" Hal asked the store clerk.

"What kind?" the clerk responded, never looking up from the till. Hal smiled at him anyway.

"Whatever's cheap."

He paid in coins as the clerk slid the cigarettes across the counter. Hal was baby-faced and clean-shaven, newly eighteen and a little too eager to buy his first box. Eager to get carded, even.

But this wasn’t that kind of shop. Everyone came here to buy drinks and smokes before they were of age.

Still he walked out of the store proud, grinning at nothing, with a skip in his step.Though with Hal, it was more like there was a step in his skip.

He wasn’t a smoker. Never would be.

But August was.

************

Hal and August first met at sixteen years old, waiting for a bus to their sixth form college in Sheffield.

August was smoking a cigarette he’d nicked from his older brother, hoodie pulled up over the headphones clamped to his ears. He kept to himself, backed up against the timetable post. The music blasting in his headphones was loud enough that Hal could hear it even from a few feet away.

Hal had never paid August much attention around school. They moved in different orbits. Hal had a bouncy, bright sort of energy that made people in town glance twice. It wasn't a bad thing at all but he didn't fit the mood of the city around him. And August, well, he had an alienating broodiness about him. They were opposites from the start, like how two magnets resist when you try to press the wrong ends together.

The first thing Hal noticed that morning was August’s hair which was buzzed close and sharp around the ears. In hindsight, Hal figured it should’ve been August’s eyes that he clocked first. They were big and blue, almost too large for his angular face. He looked like a reanimated Victorian corpse; or, more flatteringly, a Tim Burton character. Though really, what’s the difference?

August was beautiful in a haunting way. And Hal was worried about the health of his ear drums, as he listened to the tinny pulse of the music spilling out from August's headphones.

"Bit dramatic for half seven in the morning, innit?" Hal said.

August didn't hear him but he must have felt the shift in the air. He pulled off his headphones and looked up at Hal.

"What?"

"The music," Hal nodded. "It's loud."

"It's Joy Division."

"Right. Sure."

Hal stood there, just looking at him expectantly.

"Sorry, is there something I can help you with?" August asked, narrowing his eyes.

Hal looked up at the overcast sky then back down at the empty road beside them.

"Just feels like a shit day already. It's about to rain. This bus has definitely forgotten us. So the music choice feels a bit on the nose."

August stared right at Hal then, surprisingly, paused the music and looked down the road. No bus in sight.

"You really think it's not coming?"

The bus never showed.

So they walked to school together instead. August rested his headphones around his neck the whole time and Hal had a captive audience.

Hal was plenty popular at school. He didn’t want for friends or conversation. Everyone liked him. He was a known quantity. But sometimes when too many people only know bits and bobs of you, no one really sees the whole.

Despite having dozens of friends across various cliques and extracurriculars, Hal didn't feel particularly close with anyone.

He hadn’t expected August to be the one to fill that role. August was nothing like the friends Hal normally kept. He was so blunt and dry and detached.

But like a Polaroid picture, you shake things up and hope something beautiful might develop.

By the end of their walk to school, Hal knew he was quite fond of August. And August hated to admit that he felt the same.

************

Hal kept patting the pocket of his hoodie, making sure he hadn't lost the cigarettes he just bought. As he approached the car park, he could already see August waiting for him, leaning against the bonnet of his mum's car with arms crossed.

"You're late," August said as Hal approached. A standard greeting for them. They never hugged and they weren't the handshake type, either.

"I brought you a present," Hal replied, pulling the pack of cigarettes from his hoodie and handing them over.

"Your first legal purchase?" August smirked. He took the pack and flipped it in his hand.

"No one I'd rather use it on," Hal smiled, meaning every word.

"Fuck off," August stood up straight, no patience for Hal's earnestness.

"So this hot spring," he added, changing the subject. "Are we sure it exists? I couldn't find anything online."

"That's why it's a hidden gem," Hal said, "We just need to use a map."

"Do either of us know how to read a map?"

"We'll find it," Hal said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

This would be their last trip together. At least for a while.

Hal had taken his A-levels, finished college, and packed his things. He was heading to London for uni to study... well, that was still to be determined.

August was staying behind and would continue working with his uncle’s scaffolding crew. The same crew that used to call Hal one of their own. August had been born in Parson Cross and planned to live, die and be buried there as well. He had no intention of ever leaving his neighborhood.

But Hal had always dreamed big. Well, big and scattered. He tended to chase more dreams than he could feasibly wrap his arms around.

So this trip, a camping weekend at some rumoured hot spring tucked in the Peak District, was their way of saying goodbye without saying it.

On the drive into the woods, Hal glanced to the backseat. August had only packed a single, small backpack for the weekend.

"You packed light."

"I assumed you'd overpack for the both of us."

"I brought a kettle."

"Of course you did."

************

They reached the spot by early afternoon. August pulled the car into a patch of flattened grass and killed the engine. There were no signs, fences, or other campers around.

They hiked in with their bags slung over shoulders, following the sound of running water. Setting up camp was easy. Hal hammered in the stakes while August unrolled the sleeping bags. At August’s insistence, they each had their own tents -- one for him, one for Hal -- where they’d sleep and, presently, change into their speedos.

August followed Hal deeper into the woods, his pale torso not accustomed to this much sun exposure. August's body was covered in tattoos: sleeves down both arms and black ink spilling across his pale, hairless chest and creeping over his shoulder blades. He’d been getting them for years, long before he was legally allowed to.

Hal hadn’t seen most of them up close before but he liked the way they looked. He wondered if they had stories behind them. Probably. But that wasn’t the kind of thing they talked about together.

Eventually, they found the hot spring. It was hidden in a dip just past the treeline, with steam rising off the surface. The pool was smaller than Hal expected, but fine enough for two bodies. August was just impressed it actually existed at all.

They climbed in, and the heat hit Hal like a truck.

“Christ,” he hissed, wincing as he lowered himself into the water.

August had already sunk in with surprising ease, resting his back against a smooth rock.

“You'll get used to it,” he said. “It’s meant to be good for your muscles.”

“Oh, my muscles, eh?” Hal punctuated it with a dramatic flex of his arm.

“Reckon you’ve spent more time in the gym than with me lately.” August said it casually enough that he didn’t sound like a jealous girlfriend.

“Steady on,” Hal said, rolling his eyes. “You know Isabel likes her men a bit buff.”

August didn’t reply right away. Just nodded like he understood without needing the whole explanation. Hal looked down at the water where the steam blurred the edge of his chest.

“You think you’ll stay with Isabel after you leave?” August asked.

“We’ve talked about long distance.”

“And?”

“Dunno. Feels stupid to break up now. We’ve only just started getting it right.”

“Getting what right?”

Hal looked at him.

“Sex,” he said. “I used to blow my wad the second I was inside her. Like, embarrassingly fast, man.”

August’s face didn’t change.

“And now you don’t?”

“Now I last a whole respectable five minutes.”

“Congrats,” August murmured. “Proud of you.”

There wasn’t a trace of sarcasm in his voice. Hal laughed under his breath, trying to shake the heat rising to his face.

“Just saying. I worked hard for that five minutes.”

“You and Isabel serious, then?”

“I think so,” Hal said. “I guess.”

August looked out over the water like there was something worth watching in the trees. There probably was.

Hal let himself watch August instead. The sharp lines of his jaw. The scatter of tattoos across his collarbone. His skin glistening just above the surface.

“What about Saskia?” Hal asked. “Haven’t seen her around.”

“We’re not seeing each other anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Didn’t feel right.”

“You cheeky cunt! I thought you liked her.”

August shrugged.

“We weren’t on the same page.”

“You say that every time.”

Hal didn’t push it further. He didn’t have to. August had a pattern with girls: start strong, pull away, end it quietly. He always said it just wasn’t working. No hard feelings.

Hal had thought Saskia seemed good for him, or at least they liked the same stuff. But that wasn’t enough, apparently.

Hal sank a little deeper in the water, his chest submerged and head resting against the warm stone. He didn’t say what he was really thinking: I’m leaving in two weeks. And I’ll miss you more than I’ll ever miss Isabel.

He closed his eyes. And August didn’t ask what was wrong.

The silence stretched, as warm and heavy as the water they were sitting in. Hal’s fingers skimmed the surface, drawing lazy circles.

“Wanna play a game?” he said.

August gave him a look.

“What are we, twelve?”

“You got a better idea?”

August didn’t answer.

“Never Have I Ever,” Hal offered.

August sighed, which was his way of agreeing.

“Fine. You go first.”

Hal smiled and held up ten fingers just above the surface of the water. August mirrored him, expression unreadable.

“Never have I ever failed a maths test.”

August immediately dropped a finger.

“Never have I ever…” August paused to think. “Been to London.”

Hal put a finger down without hesitation, but with a clarification:

“That is soon to be rectified," Hal said, then paused for a moment. “Never have I ever eaten a kebab off the pavement.”

August didn’t move.

“Liar.”

“Five-second rule doesn’t count!”

Hal raised an eyebrow and August reluctantly dropped a finger. The water lapped gently around them.

“Never have I ever…” August hesitated, then looked at Hal directly. “Shaved my chest.”

“That’s a bit pointed.”

“You putting a finger down or not?”

“Isabel prefers me this way,” Hal said, dropping a finger.

“And she didn’t tell you you missed a spot?”

Before Hal could react, August reached across and tugged lightly on a stray hair just beneath Hal's nipple.

“Fuck off!” Hal swatted at him, splashing water in the process. August just smirked.

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. But it had shifted. The game had become something else that neither man would ever put a name to.

“Alright,” Hal said, quieter. “Never have I ever gotten a tattoo on my arse.”

August’s brow creased, “I haven’t.”

“You told me your last tattoo was ‘where the sun don’t shine.’”

“Yeah,” August said. “On my knob.”

Hal stared. “Wait, seriously? You have a tattoo on your little willy?”

“Yup.”

“What is it?”

August smiled. His first proper smile of the day.

“Ask your mum.”

Hal rolled his eyes. He didn’t often spend time thinking about August’s penis. But since August had been the one to bring it up, the thought settled stubbornly in his mind. He realized he’d never actually seen August naked. In fact, even seeing him in a speedo felt like uncharted territory between them. They didn’t spend much time at the beach or the pools.

Hal remembered the only time August had seen him naked. Well, it wasn’t really a memory that Hal could recall. It was more something August had to fill in for him.

A few months back at a party, Hal had gotten way too drunk. He blacked out and threw up all over the place. He remembered none of it.

August had been there and took it upon himself to strip Hal down, peel off his soiled clothes, and take him to the shower.

When Hal woke the next morning in fresh boxer shots, August had to tell him what happened. Hal never asked for many details. He didn't want to know the exactness of that night. It was the first time he'd ever drank so much that he lost entire hours of his life.

But thinking about it now... August taking care of him with such quiet care sent a strange thrill rippling through him. The idea of August having seen him naked, so fully on display and vulnerable excited Hal. He wished he could remember that night. It was as if the heat of the water was melting away a layer of repressed desire he never knew he had.

Then August’s voice cut through the mist. “Never have I ever skinny dipped.”

Hal was almost frightened by the words. It was like August had read his mind. Like he’d sensed the thought swirling just beneath the surface and brought it out into the open.

“I haven’t,” Hal insisted, leaving his fingers up.

August’s eyes glinted with mischief or maybe a challenge.

And without hesitation, Hal slipped out of his speedo, water droplets trailing from his fingers as he tossed the fabric at August's face.

“What the fuck?” August laughed, peeling Hal's Speedo off his chest where it had landed.

August took his own speedo off in protest, throwing it back at Hal who dodged it with ease. The two men faced each other, not daring to look down at the shape of their exposed junk now distorted under the bubbles. A new kind of vulnerability hidden just below the surface.

“Well," August said, "Put a finger down.”

 

[somethingtosingabout]

Chapter 10: Hal and August (Continued)

************

After dinner, they’d both gone quiet. The fire crackled and moths danced around its glow. Neither man said much, the way close friends sometimes don’t have to. When the last of the heat faded, they retired to their separate tents, but Hal couldn’t sleep.

He tossed and turned in his sleeping bag. Always too hot or too cold. Feeling every crumble of terrain pressing up from the earth below him.

But what was keeping him up most was what had happened earlier. An image he couldn’t stop replaying in his mind.

At one point in the hot spring, August had gotten too warm and hoisted himself up to sit on the ledge. He crossed his legs casually, just enough to stay modest, water dripping off of him and steam curling around his bare torso.

Hal had watched for a minute, then said, “Can I see it?”

August raised an eyebrow. “See what?”

“The tattoo."

August hesitated.

“It’s not fair,” Hal protested. “You’ve seen my cock at its worst. It probably shriveled itself back up into my body that night when I was blacked out."

"I wasn't looking at your cock that night, mate. Honest."

"Sure you weren't."

August rolled his eyes. “You’re fucking mental.”

“Seriously. I just want to see the tattoo. This is strictly for the purpose of artistic appreciation.”

After a moment, August gave in. He uncrossed his legs without fanfare and let it hang there. Hal tried not to ogle.

A mermaid tattoo curled along the length of August’s cock, her tail wrapping around the shaft in carefully shaded spirals.

Tattoo aside, August he had a lot going on down there. Big balls. And a full, curly bush. The kind that should make a cock look smaller just by sheer surface area. But his cock was long enough to still look massive, even through the thick of the hair. It was long, slightly curved and seemed to take up too much space between his thighs.

“Alright,” August said, catching Hal’s eyes and crossing his legs again. “Eyes up here.”

“Sorry. Just wasn’t expecting all that.”

“You asked.”

“Fair.”

"So. You're circumcised? I didn't know that happened here."

“Yeah,” August said. “My parents were weird about that. They said it was cleaner or whatever. American influence, probably, or some dodgy NHS leaflet."

“Huh.” Hal paused. “Does it feel different, you think?”

August shrugged. “Dunno. I’ve only ever had the one cock.”

Hal laughed. “Yeah, true.”

“But like, I’ve heard the uncut ones are more sensitive, right?”

“They say that,” Hal nodded. “Foreskin’s meant to protect the head. More nerve endings or something.”

"So when you’re, y’know. Wanking. It’s different?”

“I don’t really need lube or anything, it kind of does its own thing. Slides over itself."

August nodded. “Yeah, mine's a bit more friction-based, I guess."

Hal liked seeing this new side of August, so open and talkative. "What about pissing?” he asked.

August tilted his head. “Honestly? Kind of great. No splashback. Full stream. No weird flappy bit catching the dribble.”

Hal laughed again. “Gross.”

August narrowed his eyes. “You think I’m missing out?”

“Missing out?”

“On the foreskin. All that supposed sensitivity.”

Hal thought for a second. “I dunno. I’ve always liked mine."

The conversation drifted from there, but the weight of it stuck with Hal as he lay in his tent. It was so much more than their usual banter. Hal had never talked that freely to anyone -- especially to August -- like that before.

He kept thinking about the casual way August had uncrossed his legs. The heft of his cock and the mermaid spiraling down it. The lack of hesitation once he decided to share it. The complete absence of shame.

Hal was supposed to be the brazen one. The one who didn’t flinch. Yet, here was August, outdoing him without even trying. Hal wanted to bottle that ease, absorb it into his bloodstream, make it part of his every fiber.

At that moment, Hal had, perhaps, the hardest erection of his life. He wondered if August shared any of these feelings. Hal had never felt this way about a man before. He loved women. He loved pussy. But this closeness with August was different than any other relationship he'd ever had.

With blood pulsing through his cock, Hal slipped from his sleeping bag and quietly made his way to August’s tent. He unzipped the flap and stood in the doorway, looking down at August, sound asleep and shirtless, the moonlight catching the sheen of his skin.

For what felt like an eternity, but was likely only thirty seconds, Hal just stood there watching August. He tried to slow his own heart rate, syncing his breath with the steady rise and fall of August’s sleeping chest

Hal’s gaze dropped to a small pile of dirty clothes crumpled on the floor. He reached down and picked through them until he found one of August’s socks. He brought it to his nose and inhaled. It smelled faintly musty from the hike.

His heart hammered in his chest as he quietly slipped the sock into his pocket, then backed out and zipped the tent closed behind him.

When he quietly snuck back into his own tent, Hal hesitated only a moment before pulling the sock out. With a shaky breath, he rolled it over his cock like a condom then mounted his pillow.
He began fucking it slowly at first, then faster and faster, his panting rising above the chirping crickets and rustling woods.

Hal had always liked fucking socks. Sometimes they even felt better than a mouth or pussy to him. Really, he liked it that much. And this was no different.

Especially knowing that this might be the closest he’d ever get to fucking August, or getting his cock anywhere near August’s body. The tension built, sparking to a powerful, rattling orgasm.

A explosive cumshot burst through the thick fabric of August’s sock, soaking it completely and spraying onto the pillow beneath.

“Fuck,” Hal muttered, flipping the pillow as he collapsed onto its clean side and passed out.

************

The next morning, Hal woke to an uncharacteristically loud and angry August, standing at the entrance of his tent.

“Oi, why the fuck is my sock in here? Stiff, damp, and smelling like spunk?”

Hal froze.

August shook his head, incredulous. “What the fuck, mate? I only packed one pair of socks for this trip.”

 

[Yoda234398657]

Can we get Hal & Tommy - chapter 10 please

 

[somethingtosingabout]

As you wish! More Hal and Tommy. There's a lot more to their story. For now... things get a little rocky.

Chapter 11: Tommy
“Do I sound like a filthy fucking pervert?” Hal asked me, his voice sounded almost panicked. “I must sound like a filthy. Fucking. Pervert.”

We were still on the roof, somewhere in the middle of the night. He'd just told me about his best friend from high school, August, and the awkward camping trip that apparently ruined their friendship. He hadn’t finished the story, how things really ended with them, before pivoting into this spiral.

“It sounds normal, Hal. I promise.”

“How could that be normal? If it were normal, Auggie wouldn’t have ghosted me.”

He leapt to his feet, fast. I stood up too. The roof was only one story high but if he landed wrong things could get ugly here. Uglier, that is. And frankly, I had enough on my plate in the caretaking department already.

Without thinking, I grabbed his hand. It was a reflex to steady him so he didn't tumble right off the roof. A slight tug toward me then he folded right into me. He crumpled in my arms and started to sob.

It struck me how deeply queer this moment felt. Not just because Hal was crying in my arms about a boy, but because so many of us had these formative, confusing, homoerotic friendships that shaped our adolescence.

I had one, too. Even earlier than Hal did. In elementary school. Dylan. The boy I was obsessed with in a way I didn’t understand at the time. That relationship informed the way I’ve connected with guys ever since.

And I just couldn’t imagine a totally straight guy crying over a friendship that ended more than ten years ago. Not like this. This kind of grief was reserved for the queers. I wondered if maybe every gay guy shared some variation of the same story.

When Hal’s breathing finally evened out, I helped him down the ladder and back into the house.

************

I tucked Hal into bed with a big glass of water on the nightstand and a trashcan nearby just in case. He looked so small in the bed, propped up by a mountain of pillows.

It was strange being in a house built exactly like Grandma’s, only cleaner and more nicely appointed. There was no medical equipment crammed into corners and no scent of ointments and bleach. It was the same layout but for a completely different life.

I sat down on the edge of the bed next to Hal.

“I promise you I’ve felt the same things you’re feeling. The confusion. The guilt. The what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-me stuff.”

As recently as tonight. Here. With you, I almost added.

“I never cry like this,” Hal said, his cheeks flushed.

“That’s okay. It’s good, even.”

I didn’t know what kind of comfort he needed right now, if any. There were a lot of angles we could tackle this from.

"I used to imagine my wedding day when I was a lad," Hal said suddenly. "August was always my best man."

“Did you tell him you're getting married?”

He shook his head. “No. Now I’m afraid he’d crash it just to tell Katie I’m some closeted homo trying to trap her into a marriage. ‘He only wants you for your dowry,’ he’d probably say.” Hal laughed to himself, at his own joke.

“When’s the last time you talked to him?”

Hal rolled his eyes. “Irrelevant.”

“Was he the last guy you had feelings for?”

“Jesus Christ, man. You’re still on that?”

“I’m just trying to figure out if this is really about August... or if August is a symptom of something bigger going on with you.”

“You just want me to be a fag.”

“I want to understand you.”

“Why? Because if you’re nice to me, maybe I’ll get hard for you?”

I winced. “I don’t know, man. Isn’t that why you’re here? Isn’t that the whole point of this trip? To explore some stuff? To maybe fuck some dudes?”

“Back off, Tommy. You’re trying to force something here.”

“I’m not. I swear.” I softened my tone. “I just want you to know you’re not alone in this. I’ve felt these things. I still do.”

“And that’s supposed to help? That I’m just like you?” He sneered. “I don’t want to be anything like you, Tommy. Your life looks depressing as fuck. No offense.”

He took a long gulp of water then slammed the glass down on the table so hard it scared us both.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “That was cruel. I can be cruel when I drink.”

“It’s fine. We’re both fucked up. You should sleep. Maybe we can pick this up again tomorrow.”

“I’m busy tomorrow. And the rest of the week, actually. I’ve got a lot planned.”

“Right. Okay. Well, just text me? Maybe I can join you for some of it?”

“This isn’t what I’m looking for, Tommy. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

************

What the actual fuck was that?

Somehow, I’d gone from zero social drama to full soap opera in under 24 hours.

I did feel for Hal. Truly. But was I going easier on him because I was attracted to him? He really was acting like a huge fucking asshole.

Whatever.

I checked on Grandma one last time before trying to crash for the night. It was late, but maybe I could squeeze in a few hours of sleep.

Yeah, right.

This is why I don’t put myself out there. Why I avoid meeting guys.

I opened my phone, which I'd mostly ignored all night, except when checking on grandma. One notification on Grindr. Great.

A new message from Samir. His private album was unlocked.

It was his nudes. His cock. His ass. His precum.

I’d wanted to see all of that earlier. But now? It just made me feel hollow. Disgusted, even.

I swear, it only goes two ways with men. They either shove you away when you try to be emotionally available to them. Or they reduce you to a hole.

Fuck Hal. Fuck Samir.

I typed out my response to Samir: "I’m requesting another nurse. I’m not comfortable having you in our home anymore.”

I hit send.

Then I deleted the app and tried to sleep.

 

[somethingtosingabout]

Chapter 12: Tommy

It wasn’t until the home health agency called at 7:30am letting me know they couldn’t get a new nurse out to the house until 2:00pm that I remembered what I’d done last night.

Sure, my drunken conversation with Hal had been upsetting.

But the situation with Samir was so much worse.

I had actually emailed his agency supervisor and asked them to relieve Samir of his duties with Grandma.

Shit.

I called the agency right away and tried to explain that it was all a misunderstanding. That Grandma would love for Samir to come back.

Too late.

They said they’d have to check in with him first. He’d already been pulled from today’s schedule and was now being considered for placement in another home.

************

To my surprise, Samir showed up at the house anyway around 10:00am.

Not to work.

To talk to me.

I told him we should step outside. I didn’t want Grandma getting her hopes up that he was back.

“Hey, man, I’m sorry about last night,” Samir said.

He was apologizing... to me?

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry,” I said. “I was drunk. I took things too far. The agency said you were considering other placements. I hope you'll change your mind.”

“They have to say that,” he said. “They’ve put me on paid leave while they look into everything. That’s standard policy when someone files a complaint, especially out of the blue, about a long-term caregiver. They’ll probably follow up with you. Ask more questions. Poke around a bit.”

“Jesus,” I muttered. “I’ve really fucked this up. I’m so sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have sent you those pictures,” he said.

God. The Grindr pics.

Pics of Samir naked and hard and dripping with cum. If I could've looked past myself last night and just been honest then I’d have to confess that I found the pictures insanely hot.

I couldn’t exactly admit it now how turned on I’d been. That wouldn’t be appropriate... not after everything I’d put in motion. But if I could make this right, if I could undo some of the damage, maybe I’d open up that album again and take another look.

“I’m not trying to mess up your life,” I said, which was true so long as you ignored all my actions that suggested otherwise.

“Whatever happens, I'll figure it out. But that’s not the only reason I came by,” Samir said.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small baggy of white tablets. And then he came clean about the ecstasy he's been giving to grandma.

************

I probably should’ve been furious. But honestly, I’d seen a noticeable difference in Grandma since Samir started here. She was lighter and more present. Happier, even. Whatever he was doing, nefarious or not... legal, or not... It was working.

I appreciated his honesty. Even if professionalism clearly wasn’t his strong suit.

He handed me the pills and gave me careful dosing instructions in case Grandma wanted more in the coming days. The idea of managing that myself made me nervous, but it didn’t sound terribly complicated. I’d just have to keep it hidden from the new caretaker.

It would be my and Grandma's little secret. It wouldn’t be the first secret we shared. In fact, it was one major secret that first brought her into my life as my full-time guardian.

Sometimes secrets were a lifeline.

Maybe this one would bring us even closer once again.

I promised Samir I’d make things right. That I’d do whatever it took to get him back on our rotation.

He seemed to believe me.

In a way, it was a win-win.

If I was successful, Samir could treat this time off like a paid vacation. And I could keep this round of ecstasy pills for myself.

************

After the new nurse showed up in the afternoon I popped over to Hal's rental.

He told me he'd be busy today. Still, I knocked on the door.

No answer.

I poked my head over the gate at the community pool.

Just some kids on summer vacation sprawled across inflatable pool mattresses.

I thought about how different my life was just 24 hours earlier. How different everything would be if I hadn't gotten in that very pool yesterday.

I wasn't mad at Hal anymore. I just wanted him to be okay. And I hoped I'd get the chance to tell him that.

 

[somethingtosingabout]

Chapter 13: Hal

I woke up to a pile of pillows on the floor, an empty glass of water on the table, and the worst fucking hangover.

Nothing a few ibuprofen couldn’t sort. But still, it was rough going.

I’d been a complete shit to Tommy.

And the trouble is, I actually quite like him.

He probably won’t speak to me again. Just like Auggie.

Jesus H. Christ. I told Tommy about Auggie. My August. I didn't give him every detail. I didn't tell him about the final conversation with August that destroyed me. I would keep that for myself. But I told him enough to paint a picture.

Tommy wanted to know if I've ever felt that way about another bloke since Auggie. The truth was, yes. I had a bit of a problem. I could fall in love with just about anyone after spending some time with them. But I never acted on anything. Never set myself up for failure like that again. Not with a man, at least. With women, sure. That was safe.

I missed Katie.

I looked down and, despite feeling like shite, I had a proper tent in my trousers. Brilliant.

I hadn’t blown my wad in about a month. Katie and I hadn’t been shagging before the trip. Not because we didn’t want to but because I wanted the most accurate and comprehensive STD results before flying overseas. It felt like the responsible thing to do.

Not that I thought Katie had been messing about. We were solid and monogamous. Clean. But I wanted to be absolutely sure. I hadn't been tested in years. Not since locking it down with Katie. I wanted to have the bloodwork in writing to prove it, in case anything came up.

Same would go for anyone I hooked up with out here. I'd expect a full panel or no go. Which means I needed to lock someone down with enough time for them to go out and get tested.

But here and now, my willy was demanding my attention. For weeks I hadn't touched it outside of cleaning it in the shower or when taking a piss. I flipped onto my belly and let myself grind into the mattress. I wouldn't let myself go all the way. I wouldn't go over the edge. Just a little playtime before getting up for the day.

I suppose I’d accidentally been doing that whole semen retention thing. Sounded like bollocks when I first heard about it. It seemed like some Tory TikTok bullshit or something you’d hear on a podcast about the Manosphere.

But as it turns out, it was kind of working.

Not rubbing one out every time I got stressed or horny made everything feel so sharp and wild. I wanted to see what feral impulses might bubble up within me.

Problem is, I discovered the downside to all that last night. Is there a saying about how you can't have flowers without weeds? Or a rose without a thorn? Whatever. You get the point.

The way I went after Tommy. It wasn’t fair. I tore into him like an animal. But he was pushy, wasn’t he? Or was that just in my head? You can’t exactly trust your own judgment when you're nine pints deeps.

I needed time to get my head straight.

I looked around the room. No point in humping the bed all day.

While I brushed my teeth, I downloaded Grindr.

I selected a few pics that felt like me. One from a night out in Shoreditch. Another I took at the gym with nothing on but towel round the waist. One I’d sent Katie once: me in just my pants, looking fit if I do say so myself. She gave it a heart react on iMessage which felt a bit stingy.

.I kept my bio simple: “A visitor in paradise. Let’s connect.”

Grindr really is exactly how they describe it. Portraits upon portraits of men. Every type. All available, on demand. I wondered if Tommy had a profile but I didn't see him on there.

Then this one guy caught my eye. One of the few face pics in a thousand foot radius. But he was actually properly handsome, and shirtless at the beach.

I hesitated for a second, wondering how people even start conversations on here.

Was it straight to business? Or could you actually chat?

I typed: “Hey. That beach looks gorgeous. Is it around here somewhere?”
Sent.

There was a green dot on his picture which meant he was online. I wondered if he’d reply.
I didn't have to wait long.

“Hey. Yeah. That’s Black’s Beach. Not too far. Clothing optional. Funny you should mention it, I have the day off and was thinking of going today.”

Christ, was it really this easy for gay blokes?

I typed back: “Want some company?”

Why not. I needed to tap back into that spontaneous part of myself. Last night was a blip. I was ready for something else. I wanted some fun.

Buzz. He messaged back.
“Sure.”

So it turns out it really is that easy for gay blokes.

I messaged: “Can you drive?”

Buzz. Immediate reply:
“Yeah I can. You seem close? I can pick you up.”

Buzz. Another message from him:
“I’m Samir, btw.”

 

[Codger]

Ya know …. I was wondering about Samir. This is gonna be good!! Enjoying the smooth read.

 

[alan882324]

Chapter 13: Hal

I woke up to a pile of pillows on the floor, an empty glass of water on the table, and the worst fucking hangover.

Nothing a few ibuprofen couldn’t sort. But still, it was rough going.

I’d been a complete shit to Tommy.

And the trouble is, I actually quite like him.

He probably won’t speak to me again. Just like Auggie.

Jesus H. Christ. I told Tommy about Auggie. My August. I didn't give him every detail. I didn't tell him about the final conversation with August that destroyed me. I would keep that for myself. But I told him enough to paint a picture.

Tommy wanted to know if I've ever felt that way about another bloke since Auggie. The truth was, yes. I had a bit of a problem. I could fall in love with just about anyone after spending some time with them. But I never acted on anything. Never set myself up for failure like that again. Not with a man, at least. With women, sure. That was safe.

I missed Katie.

I looked down and, despite feeling like shite, I had a proper tent in my trousers. Brilliant.

I hadn’t blown my wad in about a month. Katie and I hadn’t been shagging before the trip. Not because we didn’t want to but because I wanted the most accurate and comprehensive STD results before flying overseas. It felt like the responsible thing to do.

Not that I thought Katie had been messing about. We were solid and monogamous. Clean. But I wanted to be absolutely sure. I hadn't been tested in years. Not since locking it down with Katie. I wanted to have the bloodwork in writing to prove it, in case anything came up.

Same would go for anyone I hooked up with out here. I'd expect a full panel or no go. Which means I needed to lock someone down with enough time for them to go out and get tested.

But here and now, my willy was demanding my attention. For weeks I hadn't touched it outside of cleaning it in the shower or when taking a piss. I flipped onto my belly and let myself grind into the mattress. I wouldn't let myself go all the way. I wouldn't go over the edge. Just a little playtime before getting up for the day.

I suppose I’d accidentally been doing that whole semen retention thing. Sounded like bollocks when I first heard about it. It seemed like some Tory TikTok bullshit or something you’d hear on a podcast about the Manosphere.

But as it turns out, it was kind of working.

Not rubbing one out every time I got stressed or horny made everything feel so sharp and wild. I wanted to see what feral impulses might bubble up within me.

Problem is, I discovered the downside to all that last night. Is there a saying about how you can't have flowers without weeds? Or a rose without a thorn? Whatever. You get the point.

The way I went after Tommy. It wasn’t fair. I tore into him like an animal. But he was pushy, wasn’t he? Or was that just in my head? You can’t exactly trust your own judgment when you're nine pints deeps.

I needed time to get my head straight.

I looked around the room. No point in humping the bed all day.

While I brushed my teeth, I downloaded Grindr.

I selected a few pics that felt like me. One from a night out in Shoreditch. Another I took at the gym with nothing on but towel round the waist. One I’d sent Katie once: me in just my pants, looking fit if I do say so myself. She gave it a heart react on iMessage which felt a bit stingy.

.I kept my bio simple: “A visitor in paradise. Let’s connect.”

Grindr really is exactly how they describe it. Portraits upon portraits of men. Every type. All available, on demand. I wondered if Tommy had a profile but I didn't see him on there.

Then this one guy caught my eye. One of the few face pics in a thousand foot radius. But he was actually properly handsome, and shirtless at the beach.

I hesitated for a second, wondering how people even start conversations on here.

Was it straight to business? Or could you actually chat?

I typed: “Hey. That beach looks gorgeous. Is it around here somewhere?”
Sent.

There was a green dot on his picture which meant he was online. I wondered if he’d reply.
I didn't have to wait long.

“Hey. Yeah. That’s Black’s Beach. Not too far. Clothing optional. Funny you should mention it, I have the day off and was thinking of going today.”

Christ, was it really this easy for gay blokes?

I typed back: “Want some company?”

Why not. I needed to tap back into that spontaneous part of myself. Last night was a blip. I was ready for something else. I wanted some fun.

Buzz. He messaged back.
“Sure.”

So it turns out it really is that easy for gay blokes.

I messaged: “Can you drive?”

Buzz. Immediate reply:
“Yeah I can. You seem close? I can pick you up.”

Buzz. Another message from him:
“I’m Samir, btw.”

Daaaymn before I got to that last line I was like it's gon be Samir isn't it LOL

 

[somethingtosingabout]

Chapter 14: Samir

My conversation with Tommy went better than expected, and then it was out of my hands.

While still parked in Barb’s driveway, I opened Grindr. I wanted to delete last night's chat with Tommy. The pics and his reaction to them. I just wanted it off my phone.

Grindr is where good conversations and promising connections go to die. It's a digital graveyard and last night's exchange with Tommy hovered over me like a ghost. The call was coming from inside the phone.

As I finished scrubbing it all from the Grindr record, a new message popped up.

A hot new bombshell named...

Hal.

He looked like some Greco-British god in his pictures and I wanted him immediately.

Plus, he was visiting? Well that was even better. I tended to form deeper connections with guys I knew wouldn't be sticking around. No pretense. We could skip the small talk and just be real with each other. I hoped that would be the case with Hal.

Hal was staying just down the street from Tommy’s place, and within minutes, I was picking him up to go to Black’s Beach.

Given how good he looked in his photos, I was fully prepared to get catfished. I kept the car doors locked until I saw him walk up and confirmed he matched his pics.

If anything, he looked better.

He wore a striped tank top and some very short shorts that highlighted every muscular groove of his body. He was practically bursting out of his clothes.

I believed in a Higher Power, and I believed that whatever divine chaos had spun out over the last 24 hours was meant to land me here, with this adonis.

************

"Samir's a brilliant name. I rather like it," Hal said once we hit the road. He was sweet and energetic, even as he wiped sleep out of his eyes with one hand and tried to tame his bedhead with the other.

"Are you an onomastician too?" Which was a question that, unfortunately, actually came out of my mouth.

"Oh. I’m not really doing labels right now, mate..." he said, confused as hell.

“Sorry. I’m just a huge fucking nerd, apparently. Onomastics is the study of names.”

“Oh, well, no. I mean, yes, I like names. But I don't get all scholarly about it.”

I nodded.

Jake was always telling me to tone down the geek when I'm first meeting someone new. He thought I would scare off normal guys, which to him meant hot guys who are dumb. But I wasn't in the business of hiding anymore, so Hal was getting the full-on geek treatment today.

"So, you go by Hal?" I asked. "Is that short for Harold, Harry, or Henry?"

"Henry. My real name’s Henry."

"Nice. So your parents must've liked Shakespeare then." I said. "Before he was crowned King Henry V, Prince Henry was referred to colloquially as Hal in Shakespeare's Henriad. It caught on as a popular nickname for Henry after that. Henrys who go by Hal tend to be charismatic, ambitious. Capable of ruthlessness if pushed. Hedonistic. When the mood strikes...”

I rattled this off to him like a horoscope or tarot reading, then added, “Does that sound like you, Hal?”

"You really think you can tell all that from a name?" he asked. "Didn’t Shakespeare also write something about a rose by any other name?"

"Sure. But that was Juliet speaking, and she was a fucking idiot," I added flippantly. "I don’t agree with her. Names matter. I think we grow into them, or live up to them. We become our names."

Hal nodded. I tried to catch the look on his face without fully looking away from the road ahead. I think he was smiling.

"So what’s it like being a Samir then?" he asked.

"Samirs are great companions," I said. “Impossible not to fall in love with them.”

************

The walk from our parking spot down to Black’s Beach was not an easy one. It never is. There’s a service road just south of Gliderport that winds about half a mile downhill to a secluded, clothing-optional stretch of sand. The walk back to the car is, of course, significantly worse. All uphill and relentlessly steep. But you can’t think about that part until you’re doing it, or you'd never go down in the first place.

Black’s Beach was first developed in the 1920s as a private property. In those days, access was restricted to people of “Caucasian European ancestry,” which by definition excluded all Jews and people of color. The race restrictions were a selling point.

In recent years, there was a push to rename the beach, to separate it from the legacy of founder William H. Black and everything his name stood for.

I signed the petitions, though we all still just call it Black’s, because that's what the locals do.

The culture of the beach has changed over the years, of course. We've replaced the beach's racist origins with a bunch gay men waving their dicks around in the sun.

But that’s what gets to me. How often queer safe spaces are built right up against someone else’s exclusion. And how easy it is to forget or ignore that.

I’m not naive. I don’t think changing the name of a beach is going to change the world. But it does say something about what we’re willing to let slide.

I don’t say any of this to Hal. I’m too winded from the walk, or maybe just from life, and that’s not where I want to go right now. There was magic waiting for us at the bottom of the hill.

************

“This place is a bloody circus,” Hal said, eyes wide as he took in the hundreds of naked men sprawled across the beach.

“Actually, it’s a zoo,” I said.

Black’s usually isn’t this crowded. On a normal day, it’s mostly older guys and chubs looking to cruise. But the day after a summer holiday, everyone and their muscle daddy was out.

Off in the distance, there was a circle of men gathered around something. I could tell Hal was curious.

“Go check it out,” I encouraged him, trying not to slip into caregiver voice.

We made our way through the crowd until we could see what they were all looking at.

Two bears, big, sweaty and fully nude, were fucking on the ground. One was on his knees, his thick legs planted in the sand as the other kneeled behind him, pounding into him with slow, hard strokes that made his whole body rock forward. You could hear the slap of their flesh on flesh, their grunts and short breaths.

The men surrounding them had formed a loose, protective circle, shielding the scene from casual passersby. But this wasn’t private. It was a performance for all of us.

Closer in, a dozen men lined the inside of the circle, with their hands wrapped tight around their cocks as they watched the show.

A man in big round glasses started panting loudly, his strokes speeding up.

The top, who was bearded with a hairy chest that was damp with sweat and freckled with sand, looked over at him. “You wanna cum in his mouth?” he asked, still grinding deep into his partner.

The bespectacled man nodded furiously, already shaking in anticipation.

“Go on, then. He’ll take it. He loves it. He's a good little cum slut.”

The bear on bottom turned, opened his mouth wide and stuck his tongue out. The man in glasses shuffled forward with his cock in hand and pushed himself into the waiting mouth. He fucked only a few pumps into the bottom's throat before he let out the choked sound of an orgasm.

The man collapsed into the sand in a daze, as the bottom looked up, opened his mouth again and let the cum spill back out across his tongue for everyone to see.

“Good boy,” the top muttered, not once taking a break from thrusting into him.

“Fucking hell,” Hal muttered, almost hypnotized.

I honestly thought I might have to grab his hand and drag him away.

A few guys started clapping. I noticed a couple phones out filming the whole thing. Of course. Everything is content now. I was ready to move on.

I turned to Hal. “Wanna lay out?”

Hal nodded, and we found a quieter stretch of beach and set our towels down.

We both undressed. I took off my shirt and shorts as Hal did the same.

“It’s not always this crazy here,” I told Hal, who looked a bit overstimulated.

On the drive over, Hal told me he’d never hooked up with a guy before. Some guys just say that because they have a virginity kink, or a straight acting kink, and the whole “I’ve never hooked up with a guy” thing is just part of the act. But I believed Hal when he told me that. There was a kind of naïveté to him. Like this was all genuinely new. And there was a softness to the way he took it all in. I wanted him to feel comfortable. And if he wanted me to be his first, I had no qualms with that.

I glanced over at three guys sitting nearby. From where I was lying, I could tell they were taking turns sucking each other off, using their carefully positioned legs and towels for a semblance of privacy.

“You keeping your trunks on?” Hal asked, eyeing my briefs, which were now the only thing I had on.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” I said.

“I might keep my Speedo on for now. But don’t let me stop you.”

“You’re sure?”

“Suit yourself. Or, un-suit yourself, rather,” he joked.

I stripped out of my underwear in one fell swoop, feeling the dangle of my cock and balls as I did. I laid back on my towel and bent one knee, partly covering myself so it didn’t feel like I was putting on a show.

Hal just stood there, looking down at me.

“What’s up?” I asked
.
“You’re just a really good-looking bloke,” he said, adjusting himself in his Speedo.

“Takes one to know one.”

************

Hal decided to take a dip in the ocean. I warned him about the powerful current that once swept me away, fully nude, and dumped me right in the middle of the surfing section down the beach.

A group of surfers started hooting and hollering then paused until they saw I was rock hard and scrambling to cover myself. One of them yelled, “Nice package, bro!” and a group of guys broke into laughter. Little did they know I loved a bit of humiliation. The only thing that would've made the memory sexier to me is if my cock had shrunk to its most embarrassingly flaccid size.

While Hal swam, I continued to let myself bake in the sun.

Then a shadow stretched across my chest.

I opened one eye.

It was Ethan, the deaf guy from last night.

He’d peeled away from a group of friends. This time he was in a plain black Speedo, not the American flag one from last night. His hair was damp like he’d already been swimming. He looked down at me and waved.

He had this clean look about him. A clean-cut, baby face with dark eyes. His body was lean and toned like a swimmer. His pecs were defined and cast a shadow over his flat stomach and the soft blond trail of hair leading down beneath his waistband.

He kneeled down next to my towel. I sat up a little, perching myself on my elbows and reached for my phone. He did the same.

Ethan:
You look relaxed.

I opened my legs just a bit, giving him a better view of something he hadn’t seen last night. I caught his eyes flicker down, then back up to mine. I smiled and typed back:

Me:
Trying to be.
Still recovering from last night.

He raised an eyebrow.

Ethan:
Sad we didn’t get to do more.
Thought you weren’t into it.

Me:
I was.
I had a work emergency. Or I would've stayed.

He read that and nodded slowly. Tapped something else.

Ethan:
So you're into me?

I didn’t type anything that time. I just pulled him in for a kiss.

His mouth was soft and salty from the sea air. His hand landed gently on my knee where his thumb grazed my skin back and forth, which sent chills spider-crawling up my spine.

We kept it low key at first. Just small, quiet kisses like this in between text message flirtations.

Me:
I can taste your sunscreen.

Ethan laughed, wiping his mouth.

I reached for his waistband. He tensed and glanced back at the dunes where his friends were still distracted. Then he looked back at me and nodded.

I tugged his Speedo down just enough to free the tip of his cock. He was hard and I could see the head was wet with precum. It looked almost too sensitive to touch.

I dragged a finger over the bead of slick on his tip. He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath through his nose. Then he opened them again, watching me, as he knelt deeper into the sand, sitting back on his heels.

I brought my finger to my lips and tasted him, warm and salty, without ever breaking eye contact.

He nodded like he wanted more, so I did it again, tracing a slow, deliberate circle around the head of his cock with the pad of my finger. I brought my hand up to examine the results. I stretched his precum between my index finger and thumb, watching it expand under the sunlight before licking it off my fingertips.

He leaned forward and kissed me deeper this time. His body pushed gently against mine, still careful not to draw too much attention.

As he leaned into me I felt my boner press hot against my stomach.

I glanced around. A few people passed by, but no one was really looking at us, or at least they were pretending not to notice.

I felt a flutter of nerves. We shouldn’t be doing this.

Ethan straddled me, his thighs resting against mine. I brushed his hair back off his forehead and kissed him softly.

As he pulled away, he looked down at my cock resting against my stomach, dripping. He looked me in the eyes and then grabbed his phone:

Ethan:
Can I taste you too?

We were in our own world until we felt the shift: footsteps approaching, the sand beneath us jumping a little higher with each step.

It was Hal.

Back from his swim.

He was soaking wet. Water and sand falling off every inch of him. His Speedo clung so tightly to his crotch that I could make out the shape of his cock, thick and long with a slight curve to the right.

He looked at us with a calm curiosity.

“Hi boys,” he said, casually.

Then, without warning, he leaned forward to peel off his Speedo and stood there naked, as if he was presenting himself to us.

Ethan and I both gave him the once-over.

Hal kept himself mostly natural, just a little trim around the chest and groin. His uncut cock hung heavy over his balls and looked somewhere between soft and hard. I could've sworn I saw it twitch while he stood before us.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Hal said.

“You’re good,” I replied, voice a little hoarse.

Ethan reached for his phone, typed something, and held it up to Hal:

“Do you want to join us?”

Hal contemplated.

“Actually,” he said, “I was wondering if I could watch?”

 

[SimpleXum]

Can’t wait for hal and tommy to finally explore and taste each other

 

[GoBlueNotBlueBalls]

Soooo good.

 

[hiter]

Aaaah, screaming, damn this is so good, got sucked in

 

[somethingtosingabout]

**REPOSTING THIS CHAPTER BECAUSE OF THE INCORRECT NAMES LAST TIME I TRIED LOL.***

That's what I get for writing these while I'm jerking off

Chapter 15: Hal

Samir and Ethan, who I’d just learned was deaf, walked off toward the edge of the dunes. Samir’s dick was hard and he wasn’t doing much to hide it. He held his small backpack and phone in front of it, but it still poked out pretty clearly against them.

Ethan followed close behind him, a towel in one hand.

I hesitated for only a moment then ran off after them.

They stopped a little past the last dune, out of the way enough to feel private. Ethan laid out the towel while Samir stood nearby, his hands at his sides now, not bothering to cover himself.

Ethan's Speedo was still on. His body was tight and pale.

Samir laid down on the towel, hands behind his head, legs spread. Ethan knelt between them and pulled his speedo down just below his buttocks.

I stayed put, a few feet away. Just watching.

Ethan leaned forward and kissed him. Then he spit into his hand and coated Samir's asshole with saliva, before lining himself up and pushing in.

Samir exhaled, eyes flickering closed.

Ethan started fucking him in a steady rhythm, syncopated with grunts and panting. I wondered if Ethan had any idea what he sounded like.

Samir reached for his own cock and started jerking himself off.

I was fully hard now. My foreskin had slipped back just enough to expose the head. But I refused to touch myself.

I just wanted to watch.

Not like a perv hiding in the bushes. It was more like I was studying them. Trying to understand what I was looking at. Trying to understand myself.

This is what I’d come to the States for.

Ethan kept his eyes on Samir the whole time. Samir's chest rose and fell quickly like he could barely keep up with the feeling. He was moaning and stroking himself furiously.

Eventually, his hand slowed. He looked up at Ethan and gave a tiny nod, as if to say I'm close.

Ethan nodded back. Then pulled out of Samir.

Ethan reached down and wrapped his right hand around both of their cocks and started stroking them together.

Samir came first. It shot up across his chest in thick, hot ropes. His whole body arched off the towel.

Ethan came right after.

Ethan leaned down and licked the cum off of Samir's chest. He gathered it all in his mouth, then met Samir's lips for a deep, open-mouthed kiss as they passed their cum back and forth between one other.

After a few minutes, they pulled away from each other and stood up. I was the only one still hard, and it didn't seem like that was going to change anytime soon.

Ethan nodded toward the beach, a quiet suggestion to rejoin the crowd.

Samir held up a finger. Wait.

He pulled out his phone and typed something, like he was looking something up, and then he made a strange little fist with his thumb tucked between his fingers, and shook it.

I learned later that it meant bathroom in American Sign Language.

There were no public toilets at Black's Beach so Samir turned to walk toward a bush.

But Ethan grabbed his arm, stopped him, then ran his hands slowly down his own chest and abs, offering himself up, as he dropped to his knees in front of Samir.

Samir raised an eyebrow. Really?
Ethan nodded. Yes.

Samir smirked and stepped closer, pulled back his foreskin and began to piss all over Ethan. He emptied himself onto him right there in the sand.

It hit Ethan's chest first then ran down his stomach, soaking his cock on its way to the ground below.

I watched the whole thing in amazement. It wasn’t the act itself that got to me. Piss wasn’t something I got off on.

But there was something about the fucking intimacy of it.

Ethan wanted it and Samir gave it to him.

How do two men, barely able to communicate, find something that deep without words, just a glance shared between them?

I wondered where they learned to trust each other like that?

That was what I wanted.The kind of connection where you could ask for something that specific. That filthy.

And be met with not only a yes, but with here you go.

Katie and I had been working on it. And sometimes, yeah, it felt like we were getting somewhere.
She’d encouraged me to go on this trip, after all. She was really trying.

But I’d been all over the place lately and there was only so much she could do to help me sort through it.

But I realized something at the beach.

In the short time I'd known him, there was only one person who seemed to see right into me.

He scared the hell out of me. So I’d been an absolute clot to him.

I wanted to talk to him.

Tommy.

 

[Codger]

Hot hot hot … next next next please! Love your precise writing style.