An encounter in the sea

The beach was now deserted; the sun low on the horizon. Deep pink moved upward to dissolve into a soft blue gray. The water, virtually still and waveless, shimmered between a golden rose and a gentle green. I was alone along the water’s edge. The hollowness grew in the depth of my stomach. I wanted. I knew what I wanted. But there was no one to fulfill. Then, off in the distance there was a figure: a figure that moved at a steady clip in my direction. Still far off, I perceived only a silhoutte against the colorless sand, its surface made mirror like by the incoming wash of the tide. The shadow grew more distinct. He was running, running along the small licks of the waves last ripples.

The head was singular, oval, mounted on a dark column of the neck. The shoulders were broad and heaved with his every stride. The shape of the arms was distinguishable as the swayed up and down alongside the width of the chest. The breadth of the upper torso slid sharply to the narrow span of the waist and from there the hips rolled effortlessly above the dense pistons of the thighs. Delicately the distended spheres of the calves arched and descended to the ankles and feet and finally the toes. He was all a dark shadow against the sand and sky and sea. Quickly yet in my desire ever so slowly his racing legs and striding arms made their way in my direction.

He was closer. The shadows now took on color. Skin became reflective. I distinguished yellow hair and summer’s golden tan. Closer. Legs became bends of muscle. Arms became soft turns of sinew. Now almost before me, I saw every flutter, every tension, every release. Almost naked but for the pale blue of his small suit, he shimmered above the water mirrored sand. The silken suit hugged the roundness of his hips and unveiled the depth of his thighs. From its center, the tiny tie string flittered just below the thin line of hair below his navel. With every pulse of his legs and arms, the desired objects within the silken pouch btween his legs jumped and jostled. Even in the twilight the head of a small and hidden manhood outined itself against its confines. 

My eyes caught their prey. They followed transfixed as he passed. Then as he passed with the setting sun now at his back, I turned and there beneath the sharp angles of his massive back, the fully rounded globes, left and right, heaved and thudded rythmically beneath the light blue. Almost transparent, the material left unhidden the dark cleft that marked the way towards my desire.

Without thinking I grabbed at my crotch. The impulse was too strong. Did he see me?

A few yards ahead he glanced back. He ran into the water. He dived. He plunged. He rose up covered and wet and glistening pink in the evening light. Again he looked toward me. Was this an invitation?

Again he dived and this time when he emerged he faced me and with his hand he pushed down the front of his suit and palmed his flesh upward, just enough for me to see, as though he were only resetting himself for his comfort. 

This was an invitation. I was sure of it. 

I turned to the water but kept my distance. I too, dived deeply and swam several yards before surfacing to see his whereabouts.

(To be Continued)