Parker saw him walk into the hardware store again and work his way around the outer aisle. Parker was helping a customer pick out paint and wondered if the good-looking man would work his way over to Parker's station, being attracted to Parker, or if this was the hardware store he had always come to and Parker just hadn't noticed him before his visit the other day.
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I was swimming the day my chance came. It was a nice day, but for some reason there weren't many people at the beach. I'd swum out to one of the rafts that the council provide and was just lying there, when she also swam out to the raft and hopped aboard. It was definitely my lucky day.
Denise. What can I say about Denise. She was our beautiful, virgin, bitch queen. That description isn't a hundred percent accurate. She was definitely beautiful, and even more definitely a bitch.
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Authors Note: These stories are based on my life experiences. If you haven't read the first part of my story, I'd suggest that you do so... The names (or most of them) have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent. By the way, in case any of you are wondering after the end of this story, the answer is: "Yes, Cheryl is still a part of my life – even if we aren't roommates anymore."
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Jenni Adams parked her rusted pickup behind the Harper house and killed the engine, sat at the wheel as an east wind brought rain over the steep shingle roof and drove it hard against the windshield. The surf would be big today and she anticipated a fight getting through the waves. She wanted this moment to last, sitting perfectly still, letting the urge to swim build inside, the anticipation almost sexual. For Jenni, a lot of things were almost sexual.
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I discovered very early in my life that I am an inveterate voyeur. My most fulfilling, most erotic sexual experiences have always involved watching. Watching movies. Watching television. Watching on the Internet. Even watching in my minds eye as I read stories. Naturally, I simply enjoy watching women as they go about their daily activities.
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Jason stood on a rock overlooking a deserted beach beneath him. The cool sea breeze that sent an occasional whiff of salt up to him was a delightful refreshment under the glaring sun. He felt slightly dazed, uncertain if that was due to the heat, the amounts of red wine he had been drinking the night before, or ... he rubbed his eyes, incredulously.
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I felt guilt-ridden, taking pleasure from staring at the cute guy's cock. In any case, I reasoned, it was his own fault for wearing a wide-legged, boxer-style swimsuit; and therefore, I was entitled to continue admiring his jewels with impunity.
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Sure, it all sounds great. I'm 29, I have my own business. A great house with way more bedrooms and bathrooms than I'll ever need. Plus, my work brings me to Hawaii every 6 months. You see I own a surf gear company. We make wet suits and boards, tees and shorts with our logo on them. Every six months I go to Waikiki to our head plant. I check that everything is being made properly and legally.
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"I'm spending the day at the beach," announced Barbara.
"You're mad. You'll be the only person there. It's not really warm enough," Sally pointed out.
"It will be. I'm going up to Point Revon. The hills block the wind there and the beach will be sunny. I'm not going swimming, just working on my tan. Why don't you come."
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We have a really nice girl friend, named Donna, who lives near us. She is a bit shy, but she likes to do stuff with us, including sex, now and then.
One of the things she really likes, is going to the beach, so we take her with us whenever we go. For being a 40 year old woman, she looks pretty hot in a bathing suit, although she does not think so.
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