Summer "Lovers" Get In Final Trysts

In about a week, most public schools would be back in session, corralling hundreds of thousands of children and beginning another cycle of shoving reading, writing, and 'rithematic down their throats. The new school year would also mark a noted slow-down for summer-focused businesses like amusement parks, outdoor music venues, water parks, and "water sports" in general. So I talked to my editor and he agreed to let me do a feature on a handful of local businesses that still promise a few weeks of summer fun.

My first stop was a place called Sand Valley Marina, home of "The Catch Club." This business is owned by a retired navy officer who turned his boyhood love of the water and fishing and his skills as a "squid" into a thriving tourist destination.

I was dressed casually for the interview with Carl Jeffers, known to his friends as "Catch." I had on almond-toned cargo shorts and a new navy t-shirt that hugged my frame. I wore old loafers that wouldn't matter if drenched. I carried only a camera bag from work which cradled a water-proof digital camera and my notepad ... I didn't risk my digital voice recorder near so much water.

The Catch Club was located right on the end of a busy pier, surrounded by a few private boat slips. I had to park my car quite a ways back from the water, but I enjoyed the walk ... the warm sun on my pale skin felt wonderful. I don't get into the outdoors as much as I should and the breeze off the water was brisk and refreshing.

The directions I'd been given were to look for a large, pale blue "shack" with lanterns and a synthetic thatch roof. And flags ... lots of nautical flags from all over the globe. Even without the instructions, I could have spotted the thriving business just from the blaring music ... Beach Boys ... and the crazy amount of people.

The pier was jammed with families and couples and groups of energetic friends readying themselves for some time on the water. There were four gentlemen ... probably late 40s or early 50s ... talking animately on a bench, tons of tackle and gear at their flip-flopped feet. One guy even had the classic hat with several dangling lures. A small group of young ladies stood in a clump, giggling like little kids as they rented water skis and the services of a boat and driver to take them out. Off to one side, there was a line of older teenagers ... IDs in hand ... waiting to rent jet skis. And perhaps another 10 people meandered about, looking at schedules and price lists. Two little boys scooted off the pier as I approached to fly their colorful kites on the nearby beach.


Whatever The Catch Club had to offer, I was most impressed by the abundance of bare skin ... especially the various hunks parading around in board shorts, revealing square-cut swimsuits, and classic cut-off jeans and wifebeaters. As I walked up onto the rough-planked pier, I spied two such specimens behind the Catch's counter. One was on the tall side, bulky with sun-kissed brown hair on the wavy end of the spectrum. A smokey gray nylon swimsuit hugged his hairy legs, defining his impressive bulge as he handed out life vests to a number of customers. The other hottie was shorter ... darker hair set off his prominent nose and pillow-soft lips. He was busy helping a family of four sign up for a water safety course. As he spoke, he absently scratched the dark hair that fanned up from the top of his jean shorts to frame his sexy navel. I quickly checked the corners of my mouth for drool. Oh, yeah, there were two pretty girls helping out, too ... manning a "store" of sorts that offered snacks, sunglasses, ski wax, t-shirts, sun visors, lures, Styrofoam containers, and a ton of the usual beach trinkets.


I was waiting patiently, leaning against an old chest freezer adorned with an unappetizing sign reading "Ice/Bait." Suddenly, the taller Catch employee had a break in business, so I went up to the little make-shift counter and tried to get his attention. "Excuse me, I'm looking for Mr. Jeffers."


"You with the marina?" he asked in a snippy tone. Almost defensively, his posture stiffened and he straightened to his full height ... 6' 1" I guessed. I couldn't help staring at his large brown nipples as they protruded nicely from rounded pectoral muscles. Holy fuck! my brain screamed.


I acted completely nonplussed. My eyes lifted and focused on his sea-green irises. "No. I'm supposed to ..."


"With the health department? The water safety board?"


"Well, um, no ..."


With that, the young man's body deflated slightly and his whole form noticeably relaxed. The change in demeanor was strange and sexy at the same time. "Well, what the hell can I do you for, man?" he beamed at me with a smile that could power a small city. His hand shot out and coaxed my own into a shake. His forearm had loads of that sun-drenched hair, tendons playfully flexing just below the skin.


"I was supposed to meet Mr. Jeffers for a newspaper interview." I withdrew from his powerful grip and eyed him professionally ... I hoped.


His unruly hair swayed in front of his forehead as he nodded vigorously. "Well, Dad should have been back about 30 minutes ago, but he had some engine trouble. Uncle Danny hooked up with him and the problem's almost fixed. He should be here in about an hour. You wanna talk to him on the radio?" His tanned, sinewy arm gestured toward a beat-up CB-like console on a back counter.


"No ... I'll just wait around." He started to turn away. "So, Mr. Jeffers is your old man?" I queried, trying to maintain conversation with the handsome beach stud.


He stopped his body from twisting away and answered with another mega-watt grin. Make that a medium-sized city, I thought. "Don't let my Dad hear you say 'old' and his name in the same sentence. He's really sensitive about getting older ... and gray hair. Don't say anything about him going gray."


I was about to assure him that I wouldn't when he continued. "My name's Todd. I help Dad out during the summers, and when I'm off at college we still work on the books and make deals with suppliers and other boaters and junk. Mostly, I babysit the place when Dad's out on the water." Then he pointed over at the shorter beauty still assisting patrons. "And that's Gil, my college roommate and my 'first mate' when I'm in charge here." Gil looked over quickly and offered a sly look and a casual wave. "He's also responsible for all the tunes we play, so register your complaints ... or compliments ... with him."


I chuckled and took a moment to appreciate the smoothness of Gil's legs and his genuinely happy mannerisms as he explained water skiing rates to a slightly-overweight couple. He was such an attractive dude, almost feline in the way he gestured and bounced lightly on the balls of his feet. His skin was like porcelain, lightly tanned the hue of toasted coconut.


"He's a big help," Todd added, interrupting my ogling. "He's so good with people and helping Dad and me stock the place. I'd deny this if you quoted me, but this place runs the revenue we get from people forgetting sunglasses and sunscreen. And then Gil suggested we start caring the over-the-counter shit for nausea and seas sickness ... we can't hardly keep that little display stocked!" Almost like he was telepathic, Gil looked over again and treated us with a smirk.


I had a few other background questions for Todd, so I retrieved my notepad from the camera bag. He fielded my inquisitiveness like a pro. He explained how his father and his uncle, the aforementioned Dan Jeffers, had started the business on some cash inherited from a seldom-seen grandmother. They began small, offering fishing trips and lake tours to groups and local businesses. They started off with just word-of-mouth advertising, but then one day Todd and buddy Gil were sitting with the older Jeffers men and came up with a few clever low-cost advertising gimmicks ... like free water skiing lessons donated to area school raffles and boxes of cookies decorated with boats and water skis dropped off at area employers with business cards and a rate sheet. Uncle Dan got up real early several times to "appear" on four different local AM radio talk shows. And Todd and his Dad even taught a free boating and water safety seminar at the local American Red Cross center. The gimmicks paid off and business boomed, so Todd and Gil and Todd's sister, Frannie, started helping out each summer.


"It was some goofy stuff we came up with, but people liked it and word got around. Now we have customers we see every year on an ongoing basis and the people they send our way. And lots of them still talk about the cookies."


"So this is your fourth season in business?"


Todd puffed up with pride. "Fifth. And now we have some really cool stuff. We rent jet skis on top of the fishing charters and water skiing excursions. And we use to have to rely on just our two smaller boats for the skiers, but Dad and Uncle Danny spent one whole winter and spring networking with some other boaters and now we have a group of about 10 guys that take out our customers. A lot of it's reservation-based so they schedule their time accordingly and make easy money being out on the water, which is what they love to do. We make a nice percentage and take care of the money and stuff. I'm not sure of all the details, but it lets me and Gil and Frannie ... oh, and her buddy Samantha ... take care of the on-shore stuff."


As I listened to Todd describe what was obviously a fun-filled family business, I couldn't help but get caught up in his enthusiasm. And, of course, his body and his nearness had my dick plumped up and achy.


"So how much longer is your season?"


"Well, Gil and I head back to school in two weeks but we'll be coming back every weekend and help out through the last week in October. Then all the equipment and the shack 'goes to sleep' ... that's what me Dad calls it. He spends the late fall and winter fiddling with stuff and working for my uncle's contracting business."


I checked my watch to see that I probably had another 40 minutes until "Catch" came back to dry land. I was about to ask Todd if I could just wander around and observe the place when his eyes widened with a new thought. "I just thought of something. This past spring I was talking to Dad about buying a couple of canoes and kayaks for rentals, but he thought the wake from all the boats and Waverunners would make it too problematic. Uncle Dan said it would just be too fuckin' dangerous." His foul language popped my cock to its full stature.


Regaining my composure and quietly tamping down my junk, I encouraged him to continue his story. "So kayaks were a no-go project?"


"Dead in the water," he chuckled. "Too bad, because paddling really builds up your arms." And then Todd posed with his hands braced behind his head and his arms extended like triangular wings. His armpits were covered with lush, damp hair. I imagined that I could smell his sweet sweat. "But then I brought up para sailing. It's all the rage in the Carolinas and Florida, and our lake here is just big enough for it to work. So Dad bought the initial rigging this year and we're gonna offer it next season. Did you know this lake is one of the five largest in the state?"


Before I could answer him, Todd got Gil's attention. "Dude, I'm gonna show this guy the para sail rig ..." Then he looked back at me expectantly. "... if he's interested."


"Hell, yeah," I blurted more loudly than needed. "I'm interested." I looked briefly between Todd and Gil. Todd looked excited, like a kid with a new toy to show off. Gil gave me an odd conspiratory wink.


Todd came around the counter and took my camera bag. He spun around and really stretched over the wooden surface to stow my belongings out of sight. His thoughtfulness provided me with a dynamite view of his back, lats, and mouth-watering posterior. He sprung back up and led me a few yards to a walkway running down the side of the shop. I was full of apprehension because something felt just a little off ... just out of my control. There was a metal door painted a darker blue than the surrounding walls. Todd reached into his pocket and produced a small keyring. After locating the proper key he deftly opened the door and reached around to the left; pale light drove away the shadows in the doorway. "After you," he indicated.


The room was clearly used for storage, the old-style wood parquet flooring covered in a fine layer of dust and debris. One wall contained a work bench and peg board littered with assorted tools; larger pegs held faded orange life jackets in various states of disrepair. Boxes and cartons were stacked haphazardly along with a few lawn chairs, awnings, and assorted miscellanea. In one fairly clear corner sat a metal framework that resembled the harness and airframe supports from a hang glider. I moved in to get a closer look when I felt the absence of my escort. Turning slowly, I saw that Todd was a few paces back leaning against the closed door. "It's a beauty, huh?" he said without breaking contact with my eyes.


"I really have nothing to compare it to." My breathing was growing shallow, and I could feel perspiration pooling under my arms and beneath my throbbing balls.


"I meant Gil," he answered in an eerie deadpan. "I could see you looking at him out there. Checking him out ... checking both of us out."


Stammering and sputtering for an appropriate response, Todd took a step forward to silence me. "Don't worry, dude. Gil loves the attention. Hell, I've passed him around at parties and seen him take four big dicks in a row." I know I must have looked like an idiot standing there, horned up and slack jawed.


Todd took another step forward, untying his nylon shorts as he moved. Once undone, gravity took them to the ground and the young college student moved them off to the side with a sandaled foot. Todd stood costumed in gleaming red Calvin briefs, every contour of his cock and balls easily discerned. Careful not to scrape myself, I dropped to my knees and sniffed his groin noisily. Holding my head gently, Todd swayed his hips, buffing my face with his hidden hog. My tongue darted out as he moved, producing moist spots on the thin fabric.


"You want this, don't you? You want dick bad?" His questions held no menace. "I'm gonna show you how we do it at the beach. I'm gonna choke you with my thick peter. Gonna fuck your pretty face good ... cream all over that pretty face ... ALL OVER!"


After enduring his sexy taunts and gyrating crotch folong enough, I pushed my head back and lifted my hands. With almost painful slowness, I grabbed the black waist band of Todd's stylish underwear and lowered the front to where it rested below his ample nutsac. His cock bobbed up to celebrate its freedom. Thick and veiny, Todd's dick was a hefty seven and a half inches of uncut USDA prime. Although his whang was topped with an ample bush ... like his armpits ... his balls were clean shaven. Well, almost ... a bit of stubble had surfaced, like maybe he hadn't shaved in three or four days. I could care less floated through my brain as I plunged my head forward and devoured rigid cock.


"Oh, buddy ... you know what you're doing. Gil's my boy, but fresh lips feel so good ... so fuckin' good. Eat my shit, man ... eat me like you're starvin'. Eat my prick ... eat my dirty, smelly ... AGGGGGHHHHH!!!!"


As I worked my tongue to massage his fleshy tube, my taste buds were assaulted with a blend of man sweat and the sour taste of piss. My own dick spasmed slightly in my pants, but I wasn't in a position to "release the hound." I was determined to eat as much of Todd's heady stalk as possible.


As one hand gripped the base tightly, my mouth wrestled another inch down past my sensitive gag reflex. I want this one down to the fuckin' intestines, I thought as I savored the pounding of my pulse and the constriction of my nearly-empty lungs. Todd thrust forward at that moment, and impaled me on his meat. I held him for a few seconds ... pubes tickling my nostrils ... before my brain overrode my love of cock and forced me off to breath in a few ragged breaths. Todd's breathing was accelerated as well. "Dude, please tell me you swallow cause you've got me so notched up that I'm not gonna last much longer."


"I'll take it!" I panted hoarsely. "I'll take every motherfuckin' drop you've got!!"


With alacrity, I got back on Todd's dick, just not as deeply so I had room to maneuver. I looked up at him occasionally through watery eyes for signs of approval, but his head was thrown back and he had retreated into a world of sensation ... tethered to reality only by the connection of his pecker to my warm mouth. Cupping him lightly, I started tickling his fat nuts as I sucked, rubbling the coarse little hairs beginning to sprout. In my mind's eye, I saw the collegiate beauty standing in a dorm shower, stroking his cock to hardness and then carefully shaving his scrotum. Maybe Gil gets in there to help, I thought to myself ... the mental picture caused my suctioning to become frantic.


"Dude ... DUDE! ... oh, man ... OH, MAN ... OH, SHHHHIIIIIITTTTTT!!!!" The cum cascaded out of Todd's piss slit so fast that I could barely keep up, the thick splooge threatening to gag me. I calmed my panic and swallowed in slow, deliberate gulps. The built-up seed slid effortlessly down and warmed my entire body.


After he had wilted some, I released Todd's cock from my mouth and aching jaws. I lewdly smacked my lips and tasted a bit of run-off. I knelt there in sort of a hunch ... breathing returning to normal ... when strong hands grabbed me beneath my pits and lifted me almost effortlessly to my feet. In a flash, I found myself in a dizzying reversal of positions ... I was leaning against the cool metal door and Todd was down on one knee working open the zipper on my shorts. He worked both my pants and boxer briefs down my hips and legs; the shimmying fabric sent chills along my thighs as it descended to pool at my feet.


"Dude," he said, breaking the sexual enchantment that had engulfed the dingy storeroom, "we gotta make this kind of quick because I need to get back out there before the girls ask where I'm at."


That statement sobered me somewhat. "But what if they come looking?" I asked with a note of definite fear. "I can't ..."


"Relax ... relax ... the door's locked and Gil and my Dad are the only other people that have copies of the key. Plus," he stated, tapping the stucco behind me, "these walls are pretty thick. No one's ever heard me and Gil go at it!" His sexy leer put me at ease; his hands touching my unencumbered, juice-covered cock made me quiver in anticipation.


I wanted to tell Todd that I was pretty close to spewing from all my lavishings on his tool, but he beat me to the punch by swooping in and easing more than half of my uncut eight inches into his spitty yap. As he mumbled his pleasure around my stiff johnson, I was well on my way to breeding his tonsils. The rattle of a key in the door changed all that in an instant. Panicked, I stumbled away from the egress, too stunned to even think about covering my hard cock. Todd just stepped a few feet back looking unconcerned. "I thought you said ..." I stammered, "what the hell are we gonna say to whoever that is?"


The door opened and there stood Gil with a concerned look. "Dude," he said emphatically as he closed the door. "Your sister's wondering where you are." Then he broke into his own ohm-filled smile. "So I figured I'd come relieve you and take command of the situation." Todd laughed and shot forward to pound Gil's shoulders like a wrestler "tapping in" from the edge of the mat. I just stood there wishing I had access to that nausea medication out at the sales counter. What the fuck was going on?


"Dude, this guy is so fine," Todd recounted as he donned his board shorts and dusted them off with his palms. "He sucks wood like a pro. But you gotta tell me how good he tastes when he nuts 'cause I only got started."


"Every detail ... I promise." Todd thumped Gil's shoulders again and slipped out the door. Gil reengaged the lock and moved closer. My dick had deflated a little during the scare, but Gil began rubbing it briskly. "Let's get this soldier back in fighting form," he teased. "I have to keep my promise and get that load out of those pretty balls, now don't I!"


Gil led me by my pecker to a large crate. He hastily threw a blanket over it and pushed me down into a seated position. The dark beauty grabbed a second coverlet and placed it on the floor at my feet. I began stroking my dick to complete fullness while Gil unbelted his denim shorts; the pants slid down easily as he worked them below to mid thigh. While a bit smaller than Todd's, Gil's cock was full and dusky in color. And his flanks and groin were forested with dark hair. Even from a yard away, I could smell the young man's heady musk.


I thought maybe Gil wanted me to initiate contact, but after taking just a few quick strokes to stretch out his tight foreskin he dropped down on the blanket and moved his face to within inches of my straining manhood. "We're both gonna enjoy this, buddy," he stated crypticly.


I expecting to feel the cushions of his lips immediately, but Gil surprised and delighted me when he hawked a huge gob of spit onto my dick. He repeated this until my crotch was awash in his saliva. Then with little fanfare, he began to slobber all over my cock. Gil twisted my nads a little. He rubbed my perineum viciously. He was noisy and crude in his technique, but this young college man had my crank humming in seconds.


I sensed that Gil and I were a bit alike, not totally comfortable with taking too much shaft too quickly. But his wild treatment of my genitals had me rapidly moving toward orgasm. I gently pushed the hunk back on his haunches and told him I desperately wanted to blow him. He seemed disappointed, happy to keep my dick stewing in his grateful gob. But once he noticed the laser look of desire I was aiming at his crotch, he quickly acquiesced and stood. I also rose to my feet and directed Gil into a standing position leaning into the crate with his weight on his elbows and forearms. He peered over his shoulder in bewilderment.


"Just go with it, kid," I said with a chuckle. "Like someone once told me, we're both gonna enjoy this." Gil gave me a look that conveyed an unspoken Whatever! and faced away. As I dropped down onto the musty blanket, I glanced up longingly at this young man who was probably eight years my junior. His back was well muscled if somewhat thin, clearly defined vertebrea showing underneath flawless dermis. Gil's ass was like pale alabaster, smooth but also solid. I slapped his lump playfully. He let out a small yelp, no pain and all pleasure. I whacked him again and he thrust his glutes back toward me while bending his knees and spreading his thighs. In that stance, I couldn't help but be reminded of someone who'd been sent to the principal's office for punishment and then asked to "assume the position."


But this wasn't the principal's office ... this was a cluttered storage area that reeked of mildew and the smell of men. I was completely clammy, so I removed my shirt. I looked again at the beautiful body standing stooped before me as I roughly tweaked my touchy nipples. Little bolts of bioelectricity coursed through my body to discharge in my dick.


I climbed up onto my knees and ran a fingertip down Gil's hairless ass crack. It was moist and slightly pinkish, standing out from the surrounding flesh ... except for the red steaks raised by my earlier playfulness. Moving carefully, I reached my right hand through Gil's splayed loins and found his hardness. Slowly, using my other hand to reach up and gently push down on the middle of his back, I drew his cock back between his legs. The knob was slightly purple and bubbling pre-cum. I placed my lips against just the very tip and loudly sucked up the shiny moisture. Gil groaned and, for a moment, I though he might lose his balance and collapse. But I gripped his left leg firmly while I held his cock parallel with the floor and began to slurp and slobber with gusto.


Maybe three minutes later, I could tell that Gil's pecker needed a rest, so I let it plop from my mouth to hang hard in the cloying air of the room. Now, using both my hands, I pulled the hottie's buttcheeks apart to reveal a beautiful knot of crinkled flesh. It was one of the most spectacular gashes I had ever seen. Tentatively at first, I stuck out my tough and gave his anus a quick swipe. I was rewarded with a sexy muffled moan from Gil. I took another, slightly longer lick and the moan grew in volume. With a lusty smile, I gave up any pretense of patience and started eating his slick crevice, really nursing on his sweet little hole.


"Fuck, man ... that's ... that's fantastic. Eat me, dude ... lick my smelly hole. Eat me like you mean it!" His words sent me into a higher gear. I plowed my nose into his hole, working the index finger of my left hand up against my tongue to pop open his pucker and tease and rub his sensitive rim. My right hand, without any conscious thought behind it, had found Gil's cock again and was milking it vehemently.

Amidst his mumbled obscenities and flexing thighs, I pushed back and away. The air stung my face slightly, making me realize I must be covered in spit and pungunt ass juice. Gil's cock looked bloated and mad, a cobra ready to spit its milky venom. I decided to take the plunge. I ramped up the shucking motion on Gil's neatly clipped manmeat and worked the index and middle fingers of my left hand into my mouth. Once sufficiently coated, I placed the drenched digits lightly against Gil's hole. I tapped it a few times and it winked and pulsated in response. In sync with a downwork stroke on his rod, I plunged those fingers deep into his steaming pit. The scream he released made my own dick jump and gurgle, but I had no free hand to calm it down.

On the upward stripping motion of my right hand, I twisted my embedded fingers violently to roughly manipulate the lining of Gil's rectum. The sound that escaped from his chest was different, more of a lingering moan. As my hand slid along his puffed-up penis, I continued to saw and twist my fingers around in his hole. After maybe a dozen more strokes, Gil's body tensed and he silently pumped out stream after stream of watery cum. I tried to direct the discharge down toward the floor, but the runny seed flew in all directions, some of it dousing my cock. One hit from his warm juice sent me into a hands-free unloading of my own testicles ... something that has maybe happened three times in my life.

I got slowly to my feet, trying to avoid the puddles of clotted cream. I found a rag and wiped off my dick before pulling my clothes back on. Gil just sat forward on the crate, fingering the crown of his dwindling phallus. Like a child making mudpies, he played with the sticky mess decorating his bush and and lower abdomen.

I watched in awe, wishing I had a sampling of his cum to compare with that of his best bud. But just as I was forming the words to ask for a taste, there was a loud pounding on the door. It was Todd. "You guys! My Dad's boat just rounded the cove. He'll be on land in 10 minutes ... tops!"

I hurriedly finished throwing on my t-shirt. Gil stopped playing in his goo and looked at me with doe-like eyes. He wildly smeared his semen all over his hairy tummy before he stood and hiked up his jeans.

Moving toward the door, I was stopped when Gil called out. "Shit, I promised Todd I'd tell him about your swimmers, but that salad tossing caught me by surprise. He's gonna be pissed."

"Well," I stated seductively, "maybe we don't have to disappoint him. I could always swing by here after you guys finish for the day. Maybe we could grab a pizza ... come back here and play a new game. All THREE of us!"

"Dude," Gil beamed, "you are SOOOOO on!"

The two of us stepped out into the sunshine. While Gil hurried ahead to resume his "first mate" duties, I stood and cracked my spine while taking a huge inhilation of lake air. It may be a fresh-water lake, I mused, but I've still got the taste of salt ... Todd's salt and Gil's knob trickle ... on my tongue!

HEADLINE: Summer "Lovers" Get In Final Trysts