Lifeguarding at Falls Lake

NCbear · Posted: Fri Apr 24, 2009 10:39 pm Post subject: Lifeguarding at Falls Lake

This is a [mostly] true story from my days as a lifeguard for the state of North Carolina at the Sandling Beach State Recreation Area on Falls Lake, the manmade lake that’s the main reservoir for the Triangle area. I was a lifeguard there during the summers of 1987-89, working 9:00-6:00 five days a week. There were five of us, four men and one woman, which meant that one person was always walking around (we traded seats on our four lifeguard stands every 30 minutes). We had two bathhouses, one for each end of the beach. We guards used the one on the north end.

My last summer there, I’d just come out publicly at college and I was always horny. I had just turned twenty; I was six feet tall and about 160 pounds of lanky young man, a bit hairier than most, but not a furry bear like some of the older men at the beach. I rode my bicycle a lot, so my legs and butt were really muscular.

Every minute of every day, seemingly, I thought about sex. It didn’t help that a constant stream of hard-muscled young male bodies paraded in front of my lifeguard stand every time I was on duty. Most men wore those long Jams surfer trunks, but a few—especially the bodybuilders—wore Speedo bikinis. Those skintight bike shorts with no front lining were just then coming into vogue; I remember one stunning caramel-colored “mixed” bodybuilder wearing a yellow pair of shorts coming out of the water with his thick soft cock showing plainly through the unlined fabric. I had to shift in my chair to avoid getting a noticeable hard-on. Luckily, his trunks dried quickly enough that no one had to actually go over and warn him about indecent exposure.

As the summer drew slowly to its close, the days grew longer and hotter. The sun would go down in our eyes, and it became difficult to see swimmers in the water after about 4:30 or 5:00. Some days, I was sure I was baking in my own juices, and the water looked so inviting. When I was the guard on walking duty, I began offering short dips to the others as a break from the intense heat and humidity. The lake water was lukewarm, especially in the shallows, but swimming out to deeper water allowed us to go all the way under: the water near the bottom was noticeably cooler and rather refreshing.

One day, I’d noticed a guy playing a game of beach volleyball with friends, all of them Black. The group had set up a net and was playing rather energetically, considering the heat of the day. He had braids, not dreadlocks, but they were almost as thick as dreads and corn-rowed. It was a classier look than braids normally are. His fairly light-skinned, rather muscular arms were hairy, as was his chest, and his smile was broad and charming from behind a full but neatly trimmed beard. Two earrings in each lobe, some dark shades, a blue cotton tank top, a pale khaki pair of trunks, and those Mexican woven leather sandals completed the ensemble. All in all, he was a good-looking man in his late twenties or early thirties enjoying himself running around in the sand. My eyes strayed his way often, especially as he began sweating heavily and his tank top began sticking to his chest muscles.

It was about 3:00 or 3:30 on an August day—actually, the last day of work before going back to college for the fall. The sun lay like sheet steel over the dark lake water. We had a crowd of about 150-200 people, but they were spread out enough to look fairly sparse. I was the next walking guard, so I went to each guard station in turn, asking Will, Brian, Steve and then Dawn if they needed a break to cool down in the water. All of them accepted.

Dawn’s stand was nearest the beach volleyball game. When I got to her, the game was breaking up and the man I’d noticed earlier was stripping off his shirt to go into the water. I saw his large but limp cock swing back and forth in his trunks as he walked down to the water’s edge. That wasn’t new to me, because a lot of the younger, more fit men didn’t wear underwear, but I was a bit surprised at the jolt of pure desire that shot through me at the sight. I was glad I had on sunglasses so he (and Dawn) couldn’t see where I was looking.

She went into the water right after he did. He just dipped in, splashed around some, and walked back out. I was astonished. His trunks were almost skin-tight: I (and everyone else) could see through the thick fabric the clear outline of his cock bouncing off each thigh as he walked. I sneaked a glance at some of the people behind the stand. Even a few of the men were staring. This guy’s cock was as big around as a woman’s wrist and two-thirds the length of a ruler—and still soft. It was obviously real, not a sock.

He walked right up to me, standing there at the guard stand, and (like many straight men do) stopped to chitchat. We shared some talk about the weather; he asked me what it was like to be a guard, and so forth—standard questions. I complimented him on his muscles and he grinned, telling me he’d “been working out all summer to look this good.” My eyes returned to the water, because my knees and hands were trembling with awareness and desire and I had to clear my head for a moment (and return to doing my job).

[more to (ahem!) come Laughing

]

NCbear · Posted: Fri Apr 24, 2009 10:43 pm Post subject:

Dawn was still splashing around, so I knew I had some time. I told him I wished I looked like he did, but I was too embarrassed to enroll in a gym.

“Why, man?” He seemed puzzled.

I explained that I had no upper-body strength and couldn't seem to gain weight. I told him that I didn't feel "normal" because of being born with hypospadias. Those two reasons kept me from feeling completely comfortable in the locker room and showers.

In fact (as I warmed to my subject), I told him that I’d seen uncut guys in the gym and though they looked different from the cut guys, they also looked different from me, because their foreskin completely covered the head instead of just the ridge of the glans. I then confessed to a certain degree of fascination with uncut cocks because I wished I’d been born “normal.”

“Really,” he said. It was the first time he’d spoken in several sentences. He still had his easygoing stance, but he had an arrested expression on his face, as though he couldn’t believe I was saying all these things. Hell, I couldn’t believe I was saying all these things!

I could hardly get the words out through a sudden lump in my throat. “In fact, I’ve always wanted to see one up close.”

I gulped. It seemed loud. I couldn’t look at him, and then I glanced at his face. He didn’t seem angry, so I went on, my voice low and hoarse with sexual desire. I hoped he thought I was just nervous.

“I just want to see it up close to see how it works. I’m just curious.”

I paused, wondering what he was thinking. He was standing there and staring at me, the eyes behind the dark glasses seeming to bore into mine. He took a sudden breath, the heavy muscles of his chest and shoulders expanding, and then let it out slowly.

“That can be arranged, man, that can be arranged.” His smooth, mellow voice reassured me; I breathed a sigh of relief. But I had to clarify things.

“Does that mean you’re uncut?”

He seemed a bit impatient. “Yeah, sure it does.”

“And you’ll be all right with showing me how it works?”

“Sure, man.” He looked toward his friends and then back at me, his expression serious. “When do you get off work?”

“Six o’clock.”

“I’ll meet you in there, man,” he said, indicating the north bathhouse. “Nothing wrong with a little curiosity.” With a little salute, he sauntered off down the beach, seemingly unconcerned that he’d just made plans to show his dick to another man.

Dawn walked up, toweling her long brown hair, a smile lurking at the corner of her mouth, her one-piece suit loudly red in the midafternoon sunshine. She knew I was gay, but she wasn’t sure whether I was trying to pick someone up or whether I’d just turned someone down. (We were all propositioned all the time by both genders.)

“Nice-looking guy,” Dawn said, after a pause, looking after him.

“Yep” was all I said. I wanted to be anywhere but there. Dawn was too damned perceptive.

NCbear · Posted: Fri Apr 24, 2009 10:44 pm Post subject:

She glanced at me, probably guessing my mood, and then changed the subject, thanking me for the chance to get in the cool water. We chatted some more until it was almost time for the next rotation. I told her I had to go to the bathroom before we switched places.

I stole looks at him every so often as the afternoon went on, trying to control myself so I wouldn’t have a hard-on while I walked around or sat on my stand. Even without a hard-on, my hands still trembled with pent-up desire. I could hardly concentrate on my job, even though he didn’t seem to look at me at all.

The afternoon seemed to take forever. Once, I saw him go to his car—a green and white 1965 Ford sedan, very sharp. I decided that he must live somewhere in Durham.

Finally, we were done for the day. We blew our whistles and got everyone out of the water and put up the signs that said “Swim At Your Own Risk.” I dawdled a bit, taking my time getting my water jug, wallet, and keys from the guard office. I put my shirt on, slowly. The other guards left quickly, and then he came walking up the beach toward me in just his trunks and sandals, his friends nowhere to be seen.

When he was still about 75 yards from me, I ducked into the men’s side of the bathhouse. No one was in there, and no one was headed that direction from the parking lot. The bathroom, lit only by natural light, was quiet and private. I wondered whether he wanted to do anything, whether we could do anything, and…. He was there.

“Hey, man.” He still seemed mellow, easygoing, unthreatened by the idea of showing another guy his dick. Without his shirt, his hairy chest looked like a fur rug, its tightly curled hairs moist with sweat. He grinned at me and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his trunks, pulling them down. “Is this what you wanted to see?”

His cock was long and thick but not yet hard, or at least it didn’t look that way to me. The foreskin seemed to taper down to a small circle about the size of a pencil eraser. The opening was puckered and obviously soft-skinned. My hands shook from wanting to touch it. I heard my voice, again low and hoarse from desire. “How does it work?”

He looked at me—still with his shades on—and then skinned his cock slowly, pulling the smooth, soft dark skin (darker than his hand) back over the pink glans. His hand was caramel-colored, and his cockskin was the shade of the semisweet chocolate chunks my mother used for baking cookies. His cockhead was the same pink as his lips and tongue, I realized.

I said something inane like “I see.”

“Wanna take a closer look?” His voice had gotten lower and throatier, too. I glanced at his face, but I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Still, he hadn’t beat me up yet….

“Yeah.” I bent down and looked at his hand pulling the smooth-sliding skin back and forth. His cock still didn’t seem hard. I took a chance. “Mind if I touch it? Just to see how it works?” I was rock-hard in my trunks.

“Sure.” Still easygoing, he took his hand away and stood there with both thumbs in his waistband, which was tucked under his balls. Each was about the size of an extra-large egg, and they were in a sack the same color as his cockshaft. I took his cock in my hand, the heft of it surprising, since it was still soft. I felt like I was holding a hotdog out to a customer, it was so thick and big.

As I moved my hand back and forth, my palm on the underside of his cock, it started to pulse and grow. All of a sudden, I had a man’s thick hard-on in my hand. The shaft was curved slightly, pointing the head up at me: I had a sudden image of a rose-pink bottlenose dolphin with a dark-brown sock cap on. I glanced up at him, unsure of what to do or say next, my hand still wrapped around his warm cock and slowly skinning him back and forth.

(more in a moment)

NCbear · Posted: Fri Apr 24, 2009 10:45 pm Post subject:

He grinned at me, wrapping his hand around mine and showing me how to pump a little harder, a little longer, stroking a little farther up and down, clenching my fingers tighter around the warm thick cockshaft. He leaned back on his heels and took off his shades. I suddenly realized that we couldn’t do anything there, and that I had to break this off or else a ranger would catch me in a moment, and I’d lose my job, and go to jail, and…. I had to end this now.

I looked up into his brown eyes, smiled quickly, and said lightly, “Well, thanks for showing me how it works. I appreciate it. I’ve gotta go, though. See ya around!”

I turned to leave, but he caught me by the wrist. There was a line between his eyebrows, and his deep mellow voice now held an edge. “Not so fast. You gonna leave me like this?” He nodded toward his now urgently hard cock, its head glistening with precum.

I couldn’t pretend that I wasn’t interested in doing more with him, but I was really scared of being caught. Everyone, even the rangers, used those bathhouses all the time. Still, we hadn’t been discovered yet….

“Well…,” I said. We stared at each other.

He smiled a knowing smile. “You still curious?”

“C’mere,” I said. I held his hard cock as I walked with him to one of the toilet stalls and sat down, lifting my feet off the floor to sit Indian-style on the toilet lid. He twisted around to lock the stall door and then my mouth was on him.

NCbear · Posted: Fri Apr 24, 2009 10:46 pm Post subject:

At first, I could get only a little past the head into my mouth. His precum tasted a little salty. I played with his foreskin as it slipped back and forth, but my actions were so slow and gentle that I didn’t know whether he’d like it that way. I made myself relax and my throat opened.

He sensed it and began thrusting in and out using long slow strokes, his hands on my head. What I could see of his body was a symphony of muscle as his hips moved back and forth, pushing that thick cock down my throat, going faster now. My lips were tight around his cockshaft, and I could hear the slick sound of cock being sucked. A couple of times, my lips tripped over his foreskin on the in-stroke, but we soon got back into the rhythm.

He started breathing hard and pumping harder, his hairy chest rising and falling. I put my other hand up and reached for his nipples. When I rubbed them, he gasped and his cock grew steely hard in my mouth.

I smiled around his cock and kept on. Every time I pinched or rubbed his nipples, his cock pulsed strongly as it went in and out. His muscular hairy caramel-colored thighs and stomach were all I could see.

“Yeah, man!” His voice was lower and raspier than before. Even though he was whispering, I could tell he wanted to shout. My cock was harder than it had ever been, so hard it was painful.

“Suck me harder!” he demanded in a hoarse whisper. I clamped my lips around his cock as his thrusting motions picked up speed and flicked at his frenulum with my tongue on every out-stroke. Then, I had a brilliant idea and did it on every in-stroke too.

“Oh!” he gasped the first time he felt my tongue pushing back his foreskin and teasing his sensitive frenulum, there on the underside of his cockhead. He paused for a moment and stared down at me, and then started pumping again. I felt his cock begin to pulse more rhythmically.

I was rolling his balls around in the palm of one hand; my other hand was rubbing his nipples, which were standing out stiff. His stomach muscles were moving in and out about four inches with each deep breath. He looked like he was hyperventilating.

His cock pulsed more and more strongly as he drove it in and out of my throat. My hands were all over his firm muscular ass cheeks, his tight shoulders, the hair of his chest and belly, his tender nipples, even his thick thighs. He kept on pumping, going faster and faster, his breathing becoming ragged, his cock pushing farther and farther back in my throat. I thought he’d reach my stomach. He began to gasp on every in-stroke when my lips and tongue stripped back his foreskin.

NCbear · Posted: Fri Apr 24, 2009 10:47 pm Post subject:

“Oh! Ah! Oh!” A strong thrusting pulse in my mouth accompanied each gasp.

His cockhead became harder and the corona flared out, catching my lips on each out-stroke. Now, his dick in my mouth felt like the circumcised penises I was used to sucking. The skin of his shaft was tight, and the head of his cock stood out from the shaft. It was like a small apple on a thick pole. I could no longer feel his foreskin moving up and down his cockshaft.

Suddenly, I sensed a change in his movements: he was reaching for his climax. One of my hands found my hard cock, massaging it through my trunks. His thrusts became deeper but less regular, his legs started shaking uncontrollably, and his entire body started quivering.

“I’m … almost … there,” he whispered between uneven thrusts. His balls drew up. “I’m … close,” he warned me again. His cock was even harder now, unbelievably. His breastbone flushed darkly and then the sex flush moved up to his neck and then to his face. I kept my eyes on his face; he was holding my head with both hands and staring down at my lips around his cock, his hips thrusting back and forth, until….

NCbear · Posted: Fri Apr 24, 2009 10:47 pm Post subject:

“AAAHHHH,” he groaned in a loud whisper as his cock began to come down my throat, my lips around the base. I came in my trunks at the same time from the sight, sound, smell, and taste of him. Six or eight heavy shots later, with him sighing deeply with each pulse of his cock, he began to soften, though his cock was still spurting. He leaned back against the door and looked at me with happy amazement.

“Damn, man! ‘Just curious’ my ass.” I kept on sucking, cleaning him up, his come tasting like fresh bread, a little yeasty, a little salty. I could tell he wanted to sit down but knew he couldn’t. He was really unsteady on his feet. Me, I could hardly balance on the toilet lid.

He gasped and stiffened as I flicked his frenulum with my tongue one last time.

“Gently, man, gently.”

He put both hands on my ears and pulled my head off his softening cock. I reached up and tweaked one nipple and he gasped again. Then, he sighed deeply.

“Whoo-ee! That was great, man. I really enjoyed it.”

He patted my head, rubbed my shoulders, leaned down to kiss me on the mouth, pulled up his trunks, did one deep-knee bend to the floor, and then opened up the stall door to see whether anyone was in the bathroom. Luckily, no one was. He walked over to the sink, pulled down his shorts again and rinsed his cock, gasping each time he pulled the foreskin back and let the cold water wash over his cockhead.

I stepped out of the stall. He pulled up his trunks, dried his hands under the air dryer and turned around to grin at me. He was now a bit steadier on his feet. His cock was still thick and big in his pants, but going down slowly.

“Thanks, man! Another time, maybe?”

“Yeah,” I said, smiling back at him. He sauntered out and stretched his arms over his head in the open doorway, preening like a rooster. He looked like what he was—a man who’d just had a really good, long, satisfying blowjob. I smiled to myself all the way home after washing out my trunks and drying them under the air dryer.

I meant to do it again with him, but I got another job the next summer. I stopped back by Sandling Beach a couple of years later, just to see how the place looked, and I saw his car—that same distinctive 1965 Ford sedan. On a sudden impulse, I parked and got out.

A little darker, a little heavier, and with shorter hair, he was sitting with a woman who was staring around jealously at everybody, as though someone would steal her man from her if she turned her back. I walked to the bathhouse where we’d done the deed and wandered around it, seeming to study its design. He turned to look at me and then said something to the woman and got up and walked about 50 yards over to me.

Hesitantly, he said, “Didn’t you work here—um—about two years ago?”

I smiled. “Yeah.”

He relaxed a bit, smiled back, and said, “And didn’t we…?” His eyebrows went up and down.

I said, “Yeah, we did. But you’re otherwise occupied now. Maybe another time?”

“Sure,” he said, his smile white in his dark caramel face. “Later, man.”

He clasped my hand and pulled me close, thumping me on the back a few times. Still mellow, still easygoing, he walked back to where his jealous girlfriend waited, her eyes narrowed after watching him hug me. I never could imagine what he might have said to her to explain how we knew each other.

Ton-O-Names · Joined: 28 Jul 2010 Posts: 48

Don't stop now tell us what happen next!

herbs123 · Joined: 02 Sep 2010 Posts: 17

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