Summary
It was dark out, after 9:00 p.m. A storm had gone through the previous day and another one was running up the coast about 100 miles offshore and was causing the surf to pound on the beach in big waves accompanied by a roar that cut anything the two men said off from the ears of the world. Lights twinkled on the horizon of the water, where tankers bound for the New Jersey oil refineries were standing well off of land in the angry sea. Only a smattering of lights appeared in the buildings behind them, and most of these were behind curtains closed to try to deaden the sound of the stormy surf.
“Are you sure this is OK?” Fadi asked in a nervous little voice. “I didn’t think there was supposed to be any alcohol on the beach.”
“There isn’t,” Gabe said. “But I work here. I’m special. You’re special too, you know.”
Fadi had taken the proffered beer can and lifted it to his mouth. Gabe could see that the young man was trembling. He had to hold the beer can with both hands. Gabe went harder. He couldn’t wait to get his dick inside this sweet little piece. He sat down on the towel, facing the sea, legs drawn up into his chest. It wasn’t time for Fadi to see how hard he was. There always had to be preliminaries with the fresh ones. Part of the fun was in finding out what worked best.
“Ah, feel that warm sea breeze,” he said, as he pulled his T-shirt over his head. “Come on, shuck off the T and feel the breeze too.”
Fadi started to say something, but then he shrugged and pulled his T-shirt over his head. He still was wearing the electric-blue Speedo underneath.