DYLAN'S VACATION BACK HOME
CHAPTER 18
by Donny Mumford
Waking up Sunday morning I glance over and see Chubby's still asleep in the other twin bed. It's a bummer we don't have a double bed in our bedroom like last year. I still like sharing a bed with Chubby even though we never do anything even slightly sexy anymore. Our quick kiss 'hello' in the morning isn't intended to convey anything sexual. It's just a way to show brotherly love. Most men in America can't imagine kissing another man, but it's not uncommon for men in some European countries, parts of the Middle East, and Latin America to kiss when greeting one another. They think nothing of it. When Chubby and I were younger we would, on rare occasions, experiment with sex together. Nothing like Dodger's and Robby's early sexual relationship, but we did a tiny bit of it. Chubby's so fucking attractive it was a thrill for me. It's no wonder he always has a couple of girlfriends, and by saying he's 'attractive' I'm not just referring to his cute looks, but rather his overall demeanor and personality. To know Chubby is to love him. I actually contemplate for a second sliding into bed with him right now, then reject the idea as being too childish. Growing up blows! I get up instead and look out the window seeing a beautiful day for the beach. I'm psyched about that. There are few things more gloomy than a rainy day at the shore.
Letting Chubby sleep, I do my bathroom stuff and then get dressed. In the back of my mind I'm thinking Charlie will be on the beach today and I want to look my best. So, a sleeveless t-shirt to show off my tattoo and my God-given 'guns'. I've done some weightlifting at college this past year, but even before that I had good definition in my bicep muscles. Actually, at the risk of sounding vain, I've got a pretty 'hot' body. Chubby does too and we assume it's a gift from our dad's genes. Okay, do I want to wear the gray sleeveless t-shirt that reads on the front: 'I'm silently correcting your grammar'? Hmmm, or maybe my lime colored one with blue lettering that spells out: 'Who's Pete Sake?' I'll go with the Pete Sake t-shirt, plus the boardie bathing-suit I bought the other day when Chubby and I were shopping at the Rockingham Mall. Board-shorts and bathing suits come in different styles. This one is slack fitting with longer the legs than a regular bathing suit; it hangs down just below my knees and looks cool.
Stepping into last year's sandals I check myself out in the mirror. Not bad, ha ha. My hair looks like a fuzzy buzz cut now that it's grown out a for a few weeks. Luckily my hair grows pretty fast, and it's gonna keep growing too. Ryan's haircuts stimulated my haircut fetish awesomely, but I'll forego that thrill to eventually have hair I can finally comb. My cross necklace is worn outside my t-shirt and as usual I've got my waterproof sport watch on; both gifts from Willie. I have the ring Robby gave me last year on my left hand and the one Chubby gave me on my right. And obviously I'm not referring to that silly diamond engagement ring Robby gave me, but the one he gave me for my last birthday. Neither ring has a stone, just a flat design in the metal. Of course I'm wearing my matching little hoop earrings.
Sliding my Oakley sunglasses up on top of my head finishes the 'look'. Sweet!
This is the most jewelry I'd ever wear at the same time and since none of it is the least bit gaudy... it's cool. I'd wear my leather bracelet too except it would get ruined in the ocean.
Finished admiring myself, I make a mug of coffee and an egg sandwich.
Taking the sandwich and coffee out on the deck into the bright sunshine I'm feeling really good. Pulling my sunglasses down over my eyes, I sit in one of the captain's chairs and eat my breakfast sandwich. There's no activity on Jessica's deck and now it's almost nine o'clock. Everyone there, and here, is wasting this beautiful Sunday morning except me. Done with the egg sandwich I'm contemplating another one when Jesse comes out on their deck followed by Charlie. They're both kinda dressed up. Church? They go to church on vacation? Huh. They both have steaming mugs of something as they talk leaning against the railing with their backs to me. They look like twins but of course they're not; Charlie's twenty and Jesse's twenty-one. Nice hair on both of them! Charlie's the rare guy who looks cool with long hair. It's combed in a guy's hairstyle with a part on the side. Most guys with long hair part it in the middle, which is okay, but I like the part on the side better. Ha ha, I just had a picture flash through my head of Billie in New York City. He had long, straight blond hair, but with bangs across his forehead that his master, John, cuts weekly. Long hair and bangs, an absurd look for a guy. Poor Billy. I wonder why he never called me. Oh well, it's probably just as well because their sub/dom behavior is actually a slave/master relationship, and that's way too extreme for me.
My New York City adventure, while foolish, did teach me a lesson. I discovered I don't like being dominated nearly to the extent those two go at it.
I'm apparently more sensible and have more self-respect than Billy. Anyway I've pretty much given up on any thought of a for-real extended sub/dom situation. My experience in Marietta, with Ryan was in-charge, was real enough, although mild. I actually found it sexily pleasurable for the most part.
Ryan does 'dominant' almost perfectly as far as I'm concerned, but I'm not in love with him. That's the big qualifier. So, even though I liked Ryan being in-charge, that can't compete with the love affair Robby and I are in.
Hey, that reminds me: let me check my cellphone to see if Robby read the text I sent him last night. Pulling my cellphone from my pocket I see that he did read it and he sent me a text at eight o'clock this morning saying pretty much what I said in my text to him. Plus, he says he's expecting Dodger and his friend this afternoon. Can't wait to see Dodger when he comes down here to visit on Wednesday.
Chubby comes out on the deck carrying a mug of coffee. He leans down and gives my shoulders a hug while we do a quick kiss. "Good morning, Dylan!
How'd you sleep?" He sits next to me and I tell him about my great night's sleep, but that I miss sleeping with him in the double bed we had last year.
He's dressed very much like I am. His t-shirt reads, 'Who are these children, and why do they keep calling me Daddy?' We were together when we bought these t-shirts. Chubby has another one that reads, 'I'm lost, please take me home with you'. I bought three T-shirts and the third one reads, 'Cool story, bro' and in smaller letters under that, 'Tell it again why don'cha.' I'll wear that one tomorrow. I like it because it drips with sarcasm.
"Yo Chub, look at our new friends over there on their deck. They're dressed for church." He mutters, "There's worse places to go than church, but better them than us, huh?" I'm like, "I don't know. I went to church every Sunday in Georgia and it wasn't so bad. I met some cool guys there, and after church I felt like it was a worthwhile hour, everything considered. The music was good too... uplifting, ya know?" Across the way the mother sticks her head out the door and I assume tells Charlie and Jessica to come inside because that's what they do. She looked very attractive, at least what I could tell from here. I know their father's handsome because I saw him last night for a few seconds. No one reappears on the deck so I suppose they went out the front door.
Chubby finishes his coffee, and says, "Let's leave a note for the moms that we'll be on the beach." I go, "Good idea! While you write the note I'll get the keys for the Volvo and pull out the beach stuff. Tell the moms in the note that we're taken their chairs and umbrella to the beach for them."
Chubby goes, "Good plan, Dylan," and that's what we do. Carrying two chairs apiece, me with a beach bag over my shoulder, and each of us with an end of the umbrella under our arms, we walk the two blocks to the beach. There's a board pathway from the sidewalk through coarse sand-grass to the beach, and then there's approximately a hundred yards of sand leading to the majestic steel-gray Atlantic Ocean. Quite a sight. A few yards to our left is a stand that rents beach chairs and umbrellas by the day. We rented chairs last year but wised-up this year and brought the chairs with us. Saved twenty dollars a day on the chairs alone. Then there's the lifeguard stand a little to our left, down closer to the water. As the tide comes in they move the stand back. We're at one end of the boardwalk this year, but the beach goes on for another mile to our left; there are no lifeguards for that mile of beach.
This early in the morning there are only a few people on the beach. I see an older couple sitting on rented chairs with a rented umbrella between them protecting them from the sun. They're both wearing hats and they're fully
dressed in slacks and long sleeved shirts so going in the ocean is obviously not part of their agenda. There's a family with two kids about ten years old. The parents have chairs and the kids have beach towels laid out on the sand, but they're not laying on them. They're digging in the sand. The only other people here so far are a guy and girl in their mid-twenties, both lying on their stomachs on breach towels. Chubby and I lug our stuff close to the water away from the lifeguard stand. We take a few minutes to cover each other with sunscreen and I'd be lying if I said it doesn't feel sexy having Chubby's hands sliding over my body. Somehow I managed not to spring a boner, but it's a close call. Same thing when my hands are sliding over Chubby's hot little body.
After that we set up the four chairs and position the umbrella between the mom's chairs. It's not easy getting the umbrella far enough down in the sand so it won't blow over, but between the two of us we get the job done and work up a sweat doing it. "Let's cool off in the ocean, Dylan," says my grinning brother. Everything makes him grin. We go into the ocean the way we always do it: running like crazy and keep going until we're in deep enough to dive under. The slow approach of entering the ocean that you see people doing is torturous. Leaving ninety degree heat to slowly, inch by inch, go into water that's at least twenty degrees colder is a bit of a shock to your system, but once you're totally in the water, no problem... it's refreshing. The slow method is shock after shock and not real smart. Get it over with quickly, that's the way to go.
We swim out to where the water's much too deep to touch the bottom, which gets both life guards standing and blowing their whistles at us while waving their arms for us to come in closer to shore. Lifeguards: a couple of muscle-bound numb-nuts on a power trip. We oblige them having accomplished what we wanted, which was to give the lifeguards something to do. Chub and I wave at them, then swim back towards shore until the lifeguards sit the fuck
down again. They go back to talking with two girls who are wearing barely legal bikinis. Chuckling, we swim together for a while, then body surf into the beach, wade back out and wait for another good wave to do it all over again. It's a good workout and we're feeling invigorated by time we're ready for a break. In the half hour we've been in the ocean more people have staked a claim to more areas of the beach. For now no one has set their stuff close to anyone else, but when it's crowded later this afternoon everyone will be within a couple of feet of the groups surrounding them.
Back in our beach chairs, Chubby says, "This would be a perfect time for a cigarette, huh?" I shrug, "Yeah, but it's forbidden on the beach this year. Second hand smoke is offensive to others, and I can agree with that even though I smoke." He says, "It's not that we can't smoke. We can if we want to pay the $250 fine. A rich dude could sit on the beach and smoke all day while passing out hundred dollar bills each time he lights up. They could assign a beach patrol guy to stand next to him collecting the fines." I chuckle, "It's an escalating fine though. Second offense is $500 and so on."
Chubby takes a cigarette from his Marlboro box and puts it between his lips doing his mischievous grin, telling me, "I wanna see which one of these cunts goes for their cellphone to report me." I laugh, "You should flick your Bic lighter too." No one pays us any attention though so he puts the cigarette back in the box and we slouch down in our chairs to sun bath silently.
Well, Chubby and I are silent, but it's far from silent around us. The ocean waves never stop breaking on the shore, then receding and there's the ceaseless squawking birds and the high pitched squeal of little kids having fun digging in the sand or running too close to sunbathers kicking sand on them. And we hear the sharp voices of parents trying half-heartedly to control their children. Sounds of the boardwalk drift down as well, and there are the voices of people walking the beach that we hear snatches of conversations from, as well as someone's radio playing rap music behind us. The thing is, all these sounds blend together to make white noise in kind of a relaxing way. I've never had a problem dozing off on a beach blanket or chair surrounded by beach sounds. The breeze is very pleasant too, and so is the salt water smell from the ocean that comes in with the breeze.
The brochure about Wildwood claims five miles of wide, white sandy beaches, but the sand is more gray than white. The sand can get dangerously hot from the sun too, so for the walk from the road down the beach to the ocean footwear is a must. There are many things special about the seashore even though law makers try their best to forbid you from doing just about anything you can think of except laying on the beach and swimming, but only in limited parts of the ocean. There are many rules. Signs posted at every beach entry point lists what's forbidden. The signs tell you if that part of the beach is lifeguard protected and the times the lifeguards are on duty: 10:00 AM to 5:30 PM. Forbidden on the beach are such things as: No Smoking! No alcoholic Beverages, No Vehicles, No Obscene Language, No Surf Fishing, No Ball Playing, No Frisbees, No Litter, No Kite Flying, No Animals, and No Fires. In small letters the sign says flotation devices are permitted in posted areas ONLY! Beach Is Closed 11:00 PM to 6:00 AM. There are things you're allowed to do, like breath, but not too close to anyone else: hold your breath in that case. And the lawmakers are thinking hard this very moment to come up with other things to forbid people from doing. They haven't thought of forbidding gum chewing yet, for example, or gawking at others, so there's still a few things one is allowed to do... for now. Oh yeah, they still allow boogie-boarding. An oversight?
It does seem very restrictive except most of the forbidden things are done
regularly on the beach, just not at the lifeguard protected areas. Sure, there are a few beach patrol Jeeps flying around acting like cowboys trying to catch someone doing something wrong, but they're easy to spot coming down the beach so you simply stop doing whatever forbidden thing you're doing until they pass by, giving you their dirty looks. It's actually not all that bad and for the most part we don't even want to do most of the forbidden things. And on the plus side, Wildwood is the only beach in New Jersey that's free. Other beaches like Margate City and Ocean City require everyone to buy beach tags for like ten to twenty dollars a day, and they have roving bitches checking to make sure you're wearing the beach tag. Considering that Wildwood's Chamber of Commerce claims there are nine million guests visiting this resort town every summer, that's a lot of potential income they're leaving on the table.
Chubby says, "Here come the moms," so I look behind me and see them walking towards us, both talking at the same time. When they look up we get their big smiles, but no waves because their arms are full. We get up to help them carry their 'stuff'. They always have big beach bags full of whatever, plus a beach blanket, beach towels, and a cooler. Big hats on both of them and some sort of a flimsy top covering their bathing suits. Ya know what?
They look good for their age; both turned thirty-eight earlier this year but looking younger then that. We jog up to them and Mom says, "Oh, our handsome boys!" As we relieve them of their stuff, my mom tells us, "Rider texted Tris that they'll be here around noon and they're bringing a couple of pizzas down for our lunch." Tris says, "I described to Bud, in great detail, where we'll be on the beach, so there's a fifty-fifty chance they'll find us." The mom laugh at that, then my mom says, "They're very successful business men, but their sense of direction..." and as the moms get settled they continue that conversation between themselves. Chubby and I roll our eyes, grinning at one another.
It's almost eleven o'clock before we spot Jessica and Ellie walking down the beach carrying beach bags over their shoulders and struggling with beach chairs. Chubby says, "C'mon, Dylan, lets help the girls." We get up and jog through the sand again. I'm looking for Charlie, and not seeing him.
Chubby smiles brightly, "We've come to your rescue. Let us carry that stuff for you." He takes the chairs, one in each hand, saying, "Bro, get their beach bags." The girls offer me their beach bags with Ellie smiling, "Oh my, chivalry lives on," and Jessica tells me, "Funny t-shirt, Dylan." I look down at it as if I don't know what I'm wearing, mumbling, "Oh, yeah, ha ha.
Chubby's shirt is funny too." In addition to the beach bags both girls are carrying huge purses, so Chubby sarcastically asks, "Ya sure you didn't forget anything?" They laugh, then Jessica turns around and waves at her patents who are twenty feet behind us, saying unnecessarily, "Our parents are behind us." Then she yells, "Mom, Dad, over here." Oh great! They're all here except the one I was hoping to see.
We get the girls situated and introduced to our moms. They immediately have lots to say to each other. Women are like that. Chubby's not done sucking up to the girls yet, saying, "I'm gonna help your dad with those chairs."
I'd go too but Jesse pulls on my arm, saying, "Wait, let me see your tattoo, Dylan." She looks, then says in a quizzical way, "Your name? You had your own name tattooed on your arm? Why, so you won't forget it?" I'm blushing, mumbling, "I didn't know what to get. There was this tattoo guy with a Mohawk and, oh, never mind." Then I add, "Chubby's got his name tattooed on his arm too," but Ellie ignores that, asking Tris, "Why does Dylan keep calling Jeff, Chubby?" and Tris tells her the real reason. Ellie laughs, "That's cute. Guess what Jeff told us the reason was?" She tells the moms and they all laugh as Chubby sets up Jessica's parents' chairs. The moms are introducing themselves to the very good looking Mr. and Mrs. Barns. The Barns family consists of: Ann and Toby, the parents, and their children Jessica and Charlie, plus Jesse's friend, Ellie. Nice looking family, and at the moment, minus Charlie.
The girls want to go in the ocean right away so Chubby and I gladly leave the parents to their chatter, getting better acquainted. The girls prefer the torturous method of entering the water while Chubby and I use the method we used earlier. Finally the girl reaches us in deeper water with Chubby smiling and splashing water in Ellie's pretty face. She goes, "Oh you!" and uses that as an excuse to sort of wrestle with Chubby so they can both enjoy a little bodily contact with one another. Jesse and I just stand here. I very much want to ask Jesse about Charlie, but don't. Instead I make a face, nodding at Chubby and Ellie, mumbling to Jesse, "How childish." She grins and asks me, "Do you have a boyfriend back home, Dylan?" We talk about Robby a little and she tells me she's in love with a guy at college who's visited her in Delaware two weeks ago. Unfortunately her parents took an instant dislike to the guy. She goes, "It was awkward because he stayed with us,"
and she laughs, adding, "Tyron and I just ignored the negative vibes coming at us, ha ha. He's gorgeous." Tyrone sounds like a black guy's name, but it would be rude of me to ask if he's an African American. Chubby heard Jesse say the name though, and ask, "Are you dating a black guy, Jesse?" She says, "He's not black. He's mocha colored and beautiful. Talented too. He plays piano awesomely, and sings." Ellie says, "Yeah, Tyrone's hot!"
We stay in the water until Chubby says, "Hey Dylan, the twin fiancés are walking down the beach." I look up the beach and see Bud carrying a box of what looks like take-out soft drinks with lids, and Rider's carrying three large pizza boxes from the Mac's Pizza shop that's directly up from where our chairs are. There's a hefty kid from the beach rental stand walking behind the guys carrying two beach chairs. We wade out of the water answering the girl's questions about the twin fiancés. By the time we walk up to the group the twins' introductions have already been made. Rider, mom's fiancé, gives me a man hug, saying, "Dylan, great to see you. How'd you survive your Georgia adventure?" I tell him it was great and Tris' fiancé, Bud, goes through basically the same routine with me as Rider did. Chubby gets the same treatment, but neither of us mind. Both guys have Chubby's and my stamp of approval which, believe it or not, meant a lot to our moms. Bud is the nickname for Timothy Rider, and he's engaged to marry Tris. My mom's fiancé, Rider, has always had that nickname. His given name is Thomas Rider. I don't know their middle names yet, and maybe I never will.
We do musical chairs for a minute with Bud and Rider setting their chairs on either side of the moms. Chubby and I rearrange our chairs on the other side of the girl's chairs so the six older adults can converse about whatever older adults converse about and us younger adults can goof around conversing mostly about nonsense. There's flirting going on between Chubby and Ellie, and a discussion about our love lives between Jesse and me. All together there's ten of us now making us the largest group on this part of the beach, which is quickly becoming a bit crowded. Early arrivals like Chubby and I get the best spots. As for lunch it's slightly awkward since the fiancés thought there'd be six of us instead of ten. There are twenty-four slices of pizza though, so that's enough, but Bud only bought six take-out cups of soda. My mom has Cokes in the cooler so it's all good. Many 'thank-you's' from everyone to Bud and Rider for our lunch, but especially from Mr. and Mrs. Barns who say they'll treat us to lunch tomorrow. The pizza's barely warm by the time we finish it off. Then I ask if anyone wants to go for a walk, hoping Chubby says yes and the girls say no. Chubby and the girls want to go for a swim though, so I get the next best result: going for a walk alone.
I like walking the beach and gawking at people. I'm mostly interested in gawking at male people of a certain age group. Some guys are naturally cool while others are nerds or geeks, but I like nerds and geeks. Some of them anyway. With my sunglasses on and my eyes moving from side to side I can look at guys without appearing to be looking at them. Most guys do not like being looked at. Myself, I don't care, but I'm in the minority in that regard. As usual there aren't many really cute guys to look at. There's some cool guys though, and some nerdy guys doing something I think is cool. Things I wouldn't do myself of course, like dancing awkwardly together in the sand to a particularly hot tune on the radio. A tune they perceive as hot anyway. The next best thing to looking for cute hot sexy guys is seeing friends touching. Like good natured pushing or getting someone in a headlock. Young straight guys enjoying the feel of their friend's body. In any group of young guys you'll always see pushing or arms across the shoulders or touching of some kind. The poor straight bastards don't dare do openly embracing, although some would probably like to. In my lifetime, giving a friend a quick hug as a greeting is perfectly acceptable, but I don't believe that was so in previous generations. Age is a funny thing. I'm going to be twenty-one, and that's cool, but in a way I'd like to be fourteen again. Me and Chubby at fourteen; that was a wonderful year. So was fifteen, sixteen and so on. Ha!
According to the cute-o-meter in my brain I detect the same rare number of truly cute guys on the beach I always find. Still, there's something cute about most young guys even though overall they're merely average looking.
As I often say, it's the nose that screws up an otherwise cute guy. Some guys are simply too Neanderthal looking to have any cute features, through no fault of their own obviously; for example, the low percentage of young guys who already have hairy backs, which isn't cute at all. Very overweight guys have a hard time looking cute too. But overall, most young guys look good simply because they're young. Obviously all this is my perspective as a young guy myself, so maybe ten years from now I'll see things differently.
After a half hour walking near the top of the beach, I turn around and walk back closer to the water where there's a fresh group of young guys to look at. There's a problem though and its that most of the people on the beach aren't young, and only half the ones who are young are guys. Further compounding the problem is the fact that a lot of the young guys are too young.
Nothing's perfect though, is it? I started out walking on the beach following the boardwalk, but coming back I walk past where our beach chairs are and continue past the beginning of the boardwalk onto the beach without lifeguards. There aren't as many people on this part of the beach precisely because there are no lifeguards. Not too far up the un-lifeguarded beach there are guys playing two hand touch in the sand. Near the water two guys and two girls have outlined a handball court in the wet sand and are playing handball. Both forbidden activities on the beach. It's a more relaxed beach atmosphere the further past the boardwalk I go. A group of college age guys and girls are obviously drinking beer from plastic cups. I can see the beer foam. If the beach patrol should come along the cups will disappear until the beach cops go by. There's also a boy walking his small dog near the water; another no-no.
Turning around to head back thinking I'm about ready to plop down in my beach chair and relax, I see a slim guy with long blond hair walking ten feet in front of me. His long hair is straight for about four inches and then turns curly the bottom four inches. Odd, yes, but I know someone with hair like that. And, damn, he's got a hot ass too! A wife-beater type shirt is draped over one shoulder of this slim blond, and he has a cool little walk.
Of course I'm assuming its Charlie, but I better make sure. I speed up and get level with him about ten feet to his left with people in between us.
We're close to where our chairs are by now, and it is Charlie. He's wearing sunglasses and my dick flips in my board swimsuit because he looks so fucking cool, cute, and sexy. Sauntering down to him, I put my arm across his shoulders and he jumps away, going, "Aaah," pushing at me. Charlie blushes a bright red when he sees it's me grinning at him, "Sorry, Charlie, didn't mean to scare the shit outta you."
He's shaking his head slowly, not looking at me, mumbling, "I'm such a dork sometimes. How ya doing, Dylan?" I go, "Pretty good. Where ya been all day?" He looks at me now, muttering, "Trying to lose my shadow, Ronny Tarleckie. That's who I thought you were for a second there." Not daring to touch him again, I walk next to him, asking, "What's he all about?" Charlie shrugs, "He doesn't have anyone else at the shore to hang out with, so I'm stuck with him. It's a mystery why he wants to hook up with me anyway since he calls me faggot all the time and he's always sort of wrestle with me." I mutter, "Huh, maybe he's the faggot." Charlie shrugs again, "Maybe he is, but ya couldn't prove it by me. Not that I'd want anything to do with him if he is gay." I ask, "Have you been in the ocean yet?" and he shakes his head, "Nah, Ronny likes the arcades; that's mostly where I've been today. This is the first time I've been on the beach since we got here." I say, "Well, everybody's sitting not very far up the beach from here. Um, where's your shadow now?" He goes, "That asshole wanted me to play Xbox with him." He glances over at me, "Can you imagine staying in and playing Xbox on a great beach day like this?" Fuck, never mind that, I can't imagine spending half the day in an arcade, but I say, "Um, no, of course not, but I also brought my Xbox with me in case of a rainy day, God forbid! You wanna play?" He knows that's suppose to be a joke so he forces a laugh, muttering, "Oh gee, can we?" Cute! Then I remember to say, "Hey, happy belated birthday to you, Charlie. You've left the teen years behind." He goes, "Thanks, but being twenty sucks." I mutter, "I know what you mean."
I'd kinda like to have Charlie to myself for a while, so before we get to where everyone's sitting, I suggest, "Let's go for a swim right now." He shrugs again, mumbling, "Yeah, alright. If you want to." I take a chance and put my hand on his shoulder, "Let's do it then." He grins, looking down, saying, "See, I didn't jump out of my bathing suit when you touched me this time." As we walk down to the water, I'm like, "Some people don't like to be touched," and he goes, "Oh, I don't mind being touched. You just startled me back there." I pat his shoulder this time and he looks at me smirking, "Don't overdo it though," which makes me snort out a laugh. I'm not sure if he's shy or maybe putting me on. Charlie goes in the oceans the slow way so I suffer shock after shock doing it with him, moving a foot at a time into deeper and deeper water until I go, "This is deep enough to dive in now,"
and that's what I do. When I come up wiping water from my face Charlie's still standing there. "Don't ya want to get your pretty hair wet, Charlie?"
I'm grinning, saying that as a joke. He grins back at me, asking, "You think I have pretty hair?" I go, "Yeah, don't you?" He says, "Actually I like your hair better than mine," and he dives under water, coming up ten feet away.
Swimming over to him, I grab his arm to help me stand up, as he asks, "You're gay, right?" I nod, "Yeah, totally, why?" He shrugs, "I just wanted to be sure. Some guys joke around about it, but they're not really gay." I ask the obvious question, "Do you have a boyfriend?" He shakes his head, "Nope. Never had one," and he dives under again swimming under water coming up maybe twenty feet from me this time. He looks back grinning at me again as I swim to him wondering what he's all about. His hair is flat on his head now and it reaching his shoulders with a lot of the curly part becoming straight now that it's soaking wet. There's no hair on his slim pink torso. When I get to him, I ask, "Did you put sun screen on before you left the house?" He shakes his head, grinning again, saying, "Sun screens for pussies." I say, "C'mon, pussy, I'll put some on for you or else you'll get a bad sunburn on that pale skin of yours." He shrugs again. He's the king of shrugging. He mumbles, "Okay," and we swim together until we're even with where the chairs of our group are situated.
Wading in to shore he steals glances at me, then quietly says, "You're really good looking and, um, cute." I'm surprised he'd say that, so I'm like, "Wow, that's nice of you to say, Charlie. So are you," and he goes, "Wouldn't our babies be cute?" Is he putting me on? We walk up to the group with me saying to everyone, "Look who I found," and Charlie gets a big greeting from everyone and then he's introduced to the twin fiancés. I let him sit in my chair as his sister, Jesse, asks, "How'd you lose Tarleckie, bro?" and he tells her what he told me. He seems quite comfortable in my chair, while I stand. Chubby nudges me, saying, "Keep me company, Dylan, I'm dying for a cigarette." I nod and we walk up the beach toward the street. It's at least fifteen degrees hotter on the street. As we light a cigarette to share,
Chubby asks, "Making any progress with Charlie?" I snort a little laugh, "No, not really. How 'bout you and Ellie?" He says, "We're going to have a date tonight; just her and me. Jesse's meeting her boyfriend in Margate where he's staying the week, without her parents knowing he's there. You should hook up with Charlie." I'm like, "He's shy one minute and forward the next. He said I was really good looking and cute." Chubby asks, "Is that the shy Charlie?" I laugh, "No, that'd be the forward Charlie."
After we share two cigarettes we walk down a block to buy sno-cones from a street vender who's doing a brisk business. Sweet cherry flavor over shaved ice is very refreshing. On our way back down the beach we decide to have some beers after another hour here. Chubby tells me, "Bud and Rider are taking us out to dinner tonight at the Bay Shore restaurant around seven o'clock." I go, "My favorite shore restaurant," and Chubby says, "Yeah, so we'll probably be done around nine if you want to set something up with Charlie." I go, "It'll have to be me setting it up because I can't see Charlie suggesting it." Back at our beach chairs only Ellie and Charlie are still there. All the older adults have finally worked up the nerve to go in the ocean to cool off. Chubby's grinning at the way our moms are going in the water a foot at a time. Then he asks Ellie, "Is Jesse in the ocean with our parents?" She says, "No, she went back to the house. She's going to see Tyrone in Margate tonight and she has an appointment to get her hair done." I pat Charlie on the back, asking, "How's my chair working out for you, Charlie?"
He says, "its okay I guess, but I wish it was one of those chairs with an adjustable back so I could lay back on it." I go, "I'll rent one for you tomorrow." He's getting sunburned so I ask, "Did you put sun block on yet?" He goes, "Oops, no, I forgot," and Ellie says, "You'll be the color of a lobster, Charlie."
Charlie shrugs and I get Chubby's sun screen and begin rubbing it on Charlie's pink shoulders. No complaint from him, so after his shoulders are covered in sun block, I say, "Lean forward and I'll get your back." Chubby and Ellie are giggling about something, not paying any attention to us. Done his back, I tell him, "Sit back now," and when he does I stand next to him putting sun screen on his forehead, saying, "You feel hot, like you have a fever." He shrugs and closes his eyes as I rub my fingers on his nose, cheeks and chin, then his hairless chest and down to his stomach. Not a peep out of Charlie, but my dick has awakened and moves a little in my swimsuit.
When I do his thighs my fingers go an inch or so up his swimsuit's legs and around to the back of his thigh. I'm grinning to myself seeing Charlie finally getting a little tense and the lap of his swimsuit begins forming a tent.
He abruptly sits forward, saying, "Thanks, I can do my legs." I hand him the bottle of sun screen and rub his head. His dry hair is like silk and it's getting streaks of lighter blond hairs from the sun.
He's sitting forward as he spreads sunscreen on his legs, hiding his boner. I say, "Don't forget the tops of your feet," and he looks up at me cutely, mumbling, "Yes, Daddy." I say, "Just think of me as your big brother."
Done with the sunscreen he hands the bottle back to me glancing at Chubby and Ellie, who are laughing and screwing around with her bottle of sunscreen.
Seeing they're occupied, Charlie quietly asks, "Aren't you ever going to ask me out, Dylan?" I smile at him, "Yes, I am. Do you want to meet me tonight about nine o'clock?" He says, "That's better. You need to be the aggressor because I'm much too shy." I mumble, "I'm not so sure about that. Where shall we meet?" He goes, "At the end of the boardwalk, down from our condos," and he glances at Chubby and Ellie again before saying, "Have a condom or two with you." I chuckle, then say, "Okay, shy boy, whatever you say," and he snorts out a laugh while blushing and shaking his head, mumbling, "I can't believe I just said that. Jesus! Is it getting hotter out here?"
I rub his hair again and he pushes my hand away, saying, "You'll get sunscreen in my hair." I'm like, "Let's take a walk," and he goes, "I need to cool off," so we do both things. We walk a block down the beach and then go in the ocean away from our various parents. This time I tell him, "Go in fast like I do it," and he does. We run until the water's above our waist, then dive under together and come up bumping into each other while wiping salt water from our faces. "That felt good," from Charlie, and I shrug making him laugh. He says, "I know I'm always shrugging, it's my favorite habit."
We swim around, then body surf for a while until he purposely body surfs right into me and we get tangled up. Grinning we stand, with Charlie saying, "Jesus, am I going to need to initiate everything? I'm the shy boy, remember?" I say, "Oh yeah, I forgot," and kiss his lips. It's a two second kiss which is longer then it sounds when you're doing the kissing. Charlie looks around blushing and saying, "Now you're getting there, Dylan. That's the spirit!" I shrug again.
We're working our way down further from the end of the boardwalk where there's less people. As we do that we have lots of clumsy encounters with one another and lots of bodily contact. We're goofing around in water that reaches half way up our stomachs when he stops and asks, "You got a boner yet?
I do," and we both laugh. I say, "I'd grab your crotch to verify that except it'd be too childish," and he grabs mine and holds it, saying, "I'm barely twenty years old. Two days ago I was a childish teenager." I have a hand on each of his shoulders, asking, "Have you ever docked cocks with anyone?"
He squeezes my junk, mumbling, "I don't think so," and I say, "You should try it with your boyfriend some time." He lets go of my crotch and casually works his hand down inside the waistband of my swim trunks getting his fist around my fairly firm cock, saying, "I already told you, I don't have a boyfriend." I say, "In case you don't realize it, people are swimming around us." He shrugs, then blurts out a laugh and awkwardly strokes my cock a few times before saying, "The people will think we're just talking," and he stokes my cock into a pretty hard boner until I feel an orgasm coming on and gasp, "Don't, Charlie."
Pulling his hand out, he mumbles, "Killjoy," and swims away. We walk out of the water with him asking, "Do you kiss before having sex?" I say, "Sometimes. I already kissed you once," and he says, "Good. That's good." We walk up to the group of chairs to get our sandals with me telling the moms, "Charlie and I are going for walk on the boardwalk." My mom says, "Sure, honey," then, "Charlie, I like your long hair." He blushes, "Thank you. I, ah, like being different." I'm like, "Mom, tell Cubby I'll be back before five.
He and I want to have a beer on the deck before getting ready to go out to dinner." Rider asks, "Is your birthday tomorrow, Dylan?" I nod, "Yeah, twenty-one at last. Yahoo." Bud mumbles, "A good age as I recall." Charlie and I give everyone a goofy wave and then grab our sandals and walk away in the sand exchanging gay smirks.
When we're a good distance away from the group he puts his arm across my shoulders. We're actually heading down the beach away from the boardwalk.
Charlie and I are the same height with basically the same body type, except Charlie doesn't have a lot of muscle definition. He was on a roll earlier with his gay innuendoes so I wait for him to say something else, and he does. With his arm remaining across my shoulders, he asks, "Have you ever heard of a foot fetish?" I go, "Duh, yeah, who hasn't heard of it?" He turns his head to look at me, saying, "I'm just trying to get to know you. Um, would you think it weird of me if I ask you to let me put nail polish on your toenails?" I laugh, "Um, yeah, I would definitely think that weird of you, Charlie." He goes, "Well I'm going to do it anyway, whaddaya think about that?" I go, "I already told you. I think it's weird, but I like weird stuff."
He goes, "Oh good! We're gonna have a really good date tonight!"
to be continued... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com
donnymumford@outlook.com
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Hoping some readers may be interested, there are books of mine published and available on Amazon.com. Anyone who has Kindle can download them for next to nothing. The books are under ten dollars. They are about a 19 year old gay boy (Oliver) who has a far different life than Dylan's. And there is a new book, 'Mike, his Bike and Me'. Please at least check them out by typing my name on Amazon.com. Information about the story in the books can be found in some detail there. Thank you.
Donny Mumford
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