The Rad 80's Surfers Return to Being Ryder and Justin the Skater Kids, Only 1970's
by kooldoggie
It had been a rad day for catching some bitchin' waves for Dillon and Justin, who totally killed the curls and had been having the time of their lives in their funloving retro surfer bodies, but now it was near sunset as they jogged in from the surf, totally exhausted, Dillon's tan, lightly built but still well-muscled chest heaving a bit with his exertions. He drank in the late afternoon air, finding his period Ray-Bans by a laid-out towel and putting them on as he dried off, helping his lover Justin towel off as well. Dillon reapplied some bright sunscreen to his nose, thinking he might lay out for a while, but then the sound of wheels hitting concrete grabbed his attention, and something stirred within him. He knew the time had come they could return to the street surfers he knew they both were at heart. He nudged Justin, who was combing through his blonde bangs, making sure the hair dried back into its perfect wave just over his ears, with a bit of curl in the back, but upon hearing the clatter of skateboards, the young surfer understood. He sighed and left behind his shortboard, as did Dillon, as they padded barefoot back to the boardwalk.
The skaterboys had been gathering there throughout the day, only the surferboys had been too engaged in their new personas to notice. With increasing longing, the two tall blondes sat on a short wall and dreamily watched the lackadaisical performance of the hobbyist skaterkids, their moves so basic and just for the chill of it. Not having any memories past the mid-80's anymore, the two surfers thought the modern skaters looked kind of odd, anyway, and though they thought 80's skaters were still kind of cool with their bright neon colors and more punkish hair, they really favored the classical 1970's surferboys who had pioneered the sport, dudes closer to being pure surfers than the sort of poser skaters that seemed way too corporate for their own good. I mean, look at even these weird kids, with their skate shirts and fancy shoes, advertising all sorts of companies that wanted to feed off them. Yeah, Dillon may be a trendy surfer, but he thought those 70's boys were the real street surfers, able to do tricks on the halfpipe Ð or even just a drained swimming pool Ð that would freak out the kids on the boardwalk. And so while the burning urge to return to being skaters was starting to overcome the two, another compromise would be achieved, allowing Dillon and Justin to finally become the ideal, beautiful retro skaterboys they sort of had failed to become the first time around, ultimately settling into a style of corporate skatewear.
The constant sound of wheels on concrete was triggering the change. Dillon groaned, feeling his tall surfer body reducing in height, by a lot this time, as the body determined it needed to be as small and lightweight as possible for a 21 year old blonde to achieve catching the extreme air it desired. He closed his eyes, taking off his Ray-Bans and letting them perch on his blonde surfer wavy hair, which now seemed to be losing much of its body and growing longer and straighter at the same time, a total natural 1970's hippie style that young Keiran might have appreciated. But only a second later he found the glasses irritating and tossed them away, the same going for the silly bright sunscreen that he promptly wiped off his face.
At the same time, the 6'2" pin-up model body retracted several inches back to 5'4", shorter than even Keiran had been, while pounds of what already had been light muscle drained away, leaving him skinny and boyish at only 105 lbs., but with a lithe grace and agility that would make him sail through the air with ease. Ryder was re-emerging as a small, blonde angel, the long, straight hair, parted in the middle, growing ever paler until it was almost white, hitting his shoulders and moving well beyond, so that it ended somewhere just south of his sharp shoulderblades, a stunning contrast to the deep tan of his smooth back. For the already tan surfer found his darkness increasing by several shades, more like the dusky mahogany of Keoni, revealing a golden seraph who spent every waking hour out in the sun, on his board.
Justin was admiring the beautiful changes happening to his already stunning boyfriend, but he was not immune to the deep need to become something along the same lines. He felt his hair, too, straightening and growing out, while the firm muscle on his body lessened, becoming wirier and denser, a springy lightness emerging that would make him shred the halfpipe. He didn't lose as much of his height, topping out at 5'8", 120 lbs, with a firm, flat chest and tummy. No longer much of a six-pack, but it really wasn't necessary for catching air. While his tan, as well, deepened deliciously, just about as dark as Ryder's, he fumbled at his neon yellow shorts, trying to massage the hardon that was now a long and thin, uncircumcised penis, nearly as brown as the rest of him. But he was distracted by the too-loud color of the short shorts, now offensive to his 70's sensibilities. He found his frayed, bellbottom jeans lying on the wall, and he quickly pulled down the ugly shorts, flashing everyone around him for a moment, before pulling on the jeans, which fit firmly around his 27" waist. That's all a beach skaterboy like him needed, no shoes, no shirt, just his comfortable Lee's. He wiggled the toes of his very tan size 9 feet, the same size as Ryder's now, finding his skateboard nearby and deciding to do a handstand on it as he propelled it down the boardwalk. His now medium brown, long, straight locks fell about his face as he did his acrobatic feat, smiling, his eyes now turned a jade-green so similar to what emo Ryder once had flashed. He felt ever-so light and perfect in this persona, what he had wanted all along, it seemed, as his tough bare feet once again met the pavement.
Ryder laughed as he watched his boyfriend perform his silly trick. He knew they could do so much more, and they would be heading to Justin's house in a bit to catch some air in the drained swimming pool, do some cool flips. Speaking of cool flips, his long hair looked ever so perfect now as he tossed aside the white-blonde locks, revealing a beaded necklace around his slim neck. He got up and stretched out his lithe-to-the-bone boyish body, the ridges of his six-pack only barely visible over his taut navel, the pecs only slightly raised, his shoulders narrow. Only the essential graced his skater body, as he placed his very dusky feet onto his own skateboard and began riding down to join Justin. The brunette skater looked back at his perfect lover, admiring the ultimate blondness, which now even applied to his light eyebrows above cool-as-ice blue eyes, all set within a perfect elfin face that was tanned the color of milk chocolate.
The skateboarding barefoot boys met up with each other and took the opportunity to hold their small hands, smiling at each other as they thought of the fun times to be had, and the groovy sex they'd be having later tonight.