"Shit," Gabe exclaimed, as he shucked his athletic T, slithered down the ladder of the lifeguard stand, raced to the water, and dove into the breakers. When had the little fuck gone into the water? ran through his mind as he knifed through the ocean toward the flailing arms.

He couldn't watch the guy all day. Or, he certainly could have, but he wouldn't be doing his job if he did--and he'd pretty obviously be showing his interest.

The young guy had come with a family in the early afternoon. Gabe didn't know if they were Jewish or Arab, but what he did know was that they all were strikingly good looking. Well, except for the ones who appeared to be granddad and grandma, but granddad wasn't too bad looking. A little chunky, but more solid than fat, and with a prodigious bush of salt and pepper hair on his chest. Grandma was short and rotund, but ever smiling, and even with her, Gabe could tell there had been beauty passed on from there. The father was imposing and the mother looked like a model. So did the rest of the brood--three young men and a young woman, who was so obviously the pride of the family that there always was one senior member of the family or other nearby, ever watchful.

But even though she was a raven-haired beauty with a great figure, the daughter wasn't the one who had held Gabe's attention. It was the middle son. The older one, though handsome, was swarthy and looked world wise. Too old for Gabe, for certain--and wary and no evidence that he was approachable. He probably was Gabe's age, but that definitely made him too old for Gabe. Gabe liked them fresh and young, and in his role as a lifeguard on the Ocean City ten-mile stretch of beach, he pretty much had his pick of the fresh ones.

Gabe didn't absolutely have to be the first, but he wanted to be near enough and got a high out of initiating. He did want them willing, though--certainly at first and reluctant only when they realized what they faced. Eventually yielding and then going with the rhythm.

The younger son was much too young. Early teens, probably, but he was beautiful, with a berry-brown, lithe body; a mop of dark curls; a generous, smiling mouth; and stark-blue eyes. In maybe four years, if the family came back to the beach . . . and Gabe certainly hoped they would. Something to look forward to and anticipate. He'd had one or two of those. Three summers of ripening for him and then just falling off the tree and into his lap.

The middle son had all of the attributes of the younger one, with the exception that he had a more mature, and very well-defined, musculature, and he was ripe for it. And in Gabe's experienced eyes, it seemed likely that he wanted it too. Just about to fall out of the tree and into someone's lap. Gabe didn't know why it shouldn't be him.

Whenever Gabe could manage to turn an eye on the family grouping, which had taken over a section of the beach not more than forty feet from his stand and just a bit closer to the water, Gabe caught the middle son eying the men walking parallel to the surf. He watched the well-built ones more closely than any of the others. Shapely women in bikinis didn't seem to have any effect on his interest.

This was Gabe's fourth year on the beach as a lifeguard. He'd learned to gauge the signs. The question was whether the young man realized what he was interested in getting. That and how experienced he was. Gabe liked them fresh.

There didn't seem much question that the middle son was interested in Gabe too, and Gabe did what he could to milk that. When he caught, out of the corner of his eye, the young man looking up at his stand, he suddenly had the urge to stretch and stood on the stand, flexing his muscles and working out the kinks.

The family packed up and left before 4:00 p.m., and Gabe was disappointed to see them go. But when the hustle and bustle cleared of picking up all of the gear and struggling through the loose sand on the path across the dunes to a tall condo opposite the ocean, the middle son was still there, sitting on his towel, and looking out to sea. Gabe could have been convinced that the young man was posing. He was wearing an electric-blue Speedo. But other than that he was all young, sleek, bronzed body and a black, curly mop of head hair.

Gabe wanted to believe that the youth had remained to make a connection with him, but there was no move to do so--unless having swum out beyond the surf and quickly exhausted himself so that all he could do was flail his arms in a call for help was his way of making a connection.

And maybe it was, Gabe later thought, when he was trying to justify having taken advantage of him and possibly wrecking him for any other choices in life.

He reached the young man easily, and held him close, dog paddling, until the youth calmed down a bit. They both were breathing hard, possibly neither wholly from the exertion of the swim, and Gabe made no effort to hide in that close hold that he was hard. If the young man realized that, he certainly didn't seem to shrink from it, which Gabe saw as a favorable sign.

When they got back to the beach, though, with the young man draped on Gabe's back and hanging on tight--and was that an erection he was sporting too, Gage wondered--the young man thanked him for the assist, with great embarrassment, but he didn't linger. He grabbed up his towel, raced up the beach on slender legs, and disappeared over the top of the dune and into an entrance into the nearest condo building.

"He'll be back tomorrow," Gabe muttered, trying to assure himself that the young man's embarrassment was a sign of inexperience rather than rejection.

Gabe didn't have to wait as long as for the next day on the beach.

He went out cruising on the Ocean City boardwalk that evening. There wasn't much action in Ocean City--the powers that be discouraged it, wanting this to be a family beach--but what there was would congregate on the boardwalk down near the inlet and would only subtly signal interest and availability.

Gabe was horny following the ocean rescue of that young Middle Eastern guy and was on the prowl. He hit pay dirt when he glanced into one of the penny arcades fronting on the boardwalk and saw the very same luscious young man playing a pinball machine. Not one to miss his chances, he sauntered up to the guy. "Having any luck?"

"I think these machines are rigged," the young guy said.

It was all Gabe could do to keep from rolling his eyes. Could a guy get more naïve, he wondered. But he couldn't deny that it turned him on, and he felt himself go hard. He was determined to make a try on this sweet piece of tail. It could be that the guy was putting him on, but if he was flirting with him, that must mean he was interested.

"You might not remember me," he said. "My name is Gabe. I was on the lifeguard stand out on the beach today."

"Of course I remember you," the young man said quickly. "How could I forget you? You saved my life. Uh, my name is Fadi."

"Fadi? Where does that name come from? You from Israel?"

"Hardly," Fadi said, with a little laugh. "I'm from the Bronx. But my family's originally from Lebanon. Second-generation American, though. I was born in the Bronx."

"Born in the Bronx?" Gabe was asking a different question, and Fadi seemed to be aware he was.

"Yeah, eighteen years ago."

Satisfied with that answer, and even more satisfied that the young man seemed savvy enough to be going willingly with the pitch, Gabe doubled back. "Lebanon? But from the Bronx?"

"Yes. My grandfather--you may have seen him on the beach today--came here from Beirut during the heavy fighting there in the early 80s. Brought the whole family with him. He doesn't speak much English yet, after all this time. We have Lebanese bakeries."

"In the Bronx?"

"Yes . . . and elsewhere in the city and state and up in Boston and down in Philadelphia."

"Oh," Gabe said. A rich kid. That went with the upscale of the condo he'd seen the family disappear into at the beach. That sometimes made it easier, he'd found. They thought they could have whatever they wanted and they didn't care much what society thought about it.

Fadi had lowered his face and when he lifted it up again to look into Gabe's eyes, his long eyelashes fluttered and he looked embarrassed--but to Gabe's eyes, he also was signaling what he wanted--and who he wanted it from. "I wish there was something I could do to thank you for pulling me out of the ocean this afternoon."

Of course there's something you can do, Gabe thought. You can lie on your back, open your legs and wrap them around my waist, and take my cock. But what he said was, "You could buy me a beer, I guess, although I just was doing my job."

"Uh, sure," Fadi said, but he hesitated in saying it.

"You're not old enough to buy a beer, are you?" Gabe asked, checking again--constantly checking.

Fadi didn't answer; he just lowered his head again.

Hot diggedity was what Gabe was thinking, but he knew he had to check. "How old are you, really?"

"I told you. I'm eighteen. But I'm almost nineteen," Fadi said. "I could give you money for a beer."

"That would be no fun. Do you drink beer?"

"Sure, when I can get it," Fadi answered.

"Well, then, let's say you cover a six pack that I buy, and then we'll go someplace where we can drink it in private, no one to see or challenge."

"OK with me," Fadi said, again hesitating a bit. "But do you know of someplace?"

"I know just the place," Gabe answered. Gabe always knew just the perfect place.

* * * *

Fadi struggled in the wake of Gabe over the tall dune at the end of 130th Street and between two darkened beach houses. They were ten blocks above where the North Ocean City big high-rise condos ended and were in an area of shorter condo blocks and single beach houses.

Gabe had carefully chosen this place--and had used it often. There was the big, man-made dune between the buildings and the beach and then, at this location, there was a smaller, but still over six feet high, dune, with a shelf of sand below that. There was an area just above the tide line that was out of the line of sight of any of the buildings here, as well as secluded from anyone walking the upper beach. At night it even was deep in the shadows from the perspective of anyone walking the surf line. That's where Gabe opened up a huge beach towel and plopped the cold six pack down on it. He was already flipping two cans open and holding one out to Fadi when the young man struggled down to where he was on the beach.

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.

Gabe patted the towel next to him. "Have a seat." Fadi squatted down next to Gabe, close to him, and sat cross legged.

Was that a bulge of an erection in the crotch of the Speedo, Gabe wondered. Was this a forward little piece or was he just naïve? Gabe took several gulps of his beer, if only to entice Fadi to do the same. The ploy worked. Fadi was trembling, and swigging the beer gave him something to do.

"Just about finished with that one?" Gabe asked. "Here's another. Maybe we should have gotten two six packs."

"I can't really handle too many," Fadi whispered.

I certainly hope not, Gabe thought. "You said you were eighteen," he said, making his voice casual. Check continually, he thought. That was key. The closer they got to it, the more prone they were to reveal the unwanted edge. This was important to Gabe. He wanted them right on the edge, but he had no interest in going to prison.

"Almost nineteen," Fadi responded.

"Still in school?"

"I'm a sophomore at Penn State. Taking engineering."

"Ah, engineering."

"Yes, I want to build things. Going into the bakery business is what Walid--my older brother--is happy doing, but I want to build things. Things I can see and say I helped put that up. Like these condo buildings here." Fadi's tongue was loosening and his body was relaxing. He was well into his second beer. Gabe was nursing his second one.

Gabe had pulled up a couple of stalks of sea oats and had been running those along his own bare knees. Fadi didn't seem to notice when the tips of the stalks moved over to his legs. Gabe could tell from the sigh Fadi gave that he felt the effects of the slight tickling, though. That was either unconsciously, being in entirely new territory, or was a sign of willingness. Although Gabe wanted willingness, he was more aroused by blindsided naïveté. If Fadi was familiar with the dance, he wasn't showing it. He was aiding Gabe's arousal and expectation.

That's one of the primary things Gabe liked about fucking virgins. They only slowly became aware of the sensations of external stimuli. He couldn't remember how many times he'd gotten his dick inside a guy who didn't realize how aroused and wanting he was--all from the preparation Gabe had done--until the moment of penetration. The expression on their faces as he first entered them flipped Gabe's arousal up into the stratosphere. At his best, they were already open enough to take him without realizing they had been prepared.

"A lot of foxy girls at Penn State?" he asked.

"Yeah . . . yeah, I guess," Fadi answered, not particularly enthusiastically.

"And guys. The guys at Penn State as good looking and sexy as you are? Here, you need another beer. You must work out a lot."

"Uh, thanks," Fadi said, taking the fresh can of beer and imbibing a big gulp from it, embarrassed by the barrage of leading questions.

Gabe gave the guy a moment to contemplate the question, before zeroing in again. "A lot of guys at Penn State as cut and sexy as you?"

"Uh . . ."

"Because you are sexy, you know. You fuck a lot of girls at Penn State?"

"Uh, yes . . . sure."

Which meant "no," Gabe assumed.

"How about guys. You get it on with guys too?"

"Uh, no, of course not."

"Because you don't want to or because you've never taken the opportunity? I bet there are guys at Penn State who would like to have it on with you. Here, you take the last of the beer. I started before I met up with you." Which, of course, was a lie.

"I've never thought if it, of course. I'm not--"

"Oh, I think you've thought of it, Fadi. I watched you on the beach today. I think you thought of it every time a hunk walked by. You like muscular men, don't you?"

"Uh . . . yeah, I guess. A bit. I'd like to be like that too, I guess. I'm sure that's why I like to look--"

"How about me, Fadi? Do you like my body? Here, feel my biceps. Pretty hard, right? And my six pack. I bet with a little more work you could have this too." He held Fadi's hand in his and moved it around from the bicep that Fadi had willingly touched, down the line of his hard chest, to his abdomen. Fadi, three sheets to the wind now, didn't fight him, although he was trembling almost uncontrollably. So Gabe moved the hand down farther, to lay on his basket--and his tented erection.

Fadi only let his palm rest there for a few seconds before pulling the hand away. He lay full length on his back on the towel and looked up at the stars. He was lightly panting. Looking down at him, Gabe wanted him now more than ever before.

"Woowie, I think I've had enough of that beer," Fadi whispered. As it was, he'd quickly downed three and a half cans.

Gabe stretched out full length beside him and moved an arm under the young man's neck. Fadi didn't seem to notice. His eyes seemed intent on picking out the constellations in the clear sky. He began to sigh softly, as Gabe ran the tips of the sea oat stalks up and down Fadi's chest, from his pecs, where the nipples puffed up nicely, down to his belly, which shimmered at the touch. The tenting of the young man's Speedo pouch was becoming more and more pronounced.

Gabe hovered his face over Fadi's. "I asked you if you found my body attractive."

"Yes, of course," Fadi squeaked.

"Sexy even? I know you're aroused. We both know we both are aroused."

"Yes," Fadi squeaked again.

"Has a man ever kissed you?"

"No," the admission was given in a low, throaty voice.

"I'm going to kiss you now, Fadi."

Fadi's eyes opened wide in a panicked look, but he remained motionless--if only for a moment--as Gabe's mouth came to his in a kiss that started gentle, with Gabe providing all of the pressure, but built to Gabe pushing Fadi's lips apart with his and running his tongue into Fadi's mouth cavity. Fadi shuddered, and he surrendered to the kiss like a series of gates opening until his body was shuddering and he was hungrily sucking on Gabe's tongue.

The young man's body tensed in Gabe's embrace but his muscles relaxed as the kiss continued and deepened. Gabe held the kiss until he felt Fadi's erection start to move, ever so slightly, against Gabe's hip. Fadi probably didn't even know that a rhythm of the fuck had instinctively started in his body. But Gabe knew it. It always marked for Gabe some sort of barrier surmounted beyond which Gabe knew he was going to get his dick dipped and his rocks off.

Gabe dropped the stalks of oats and slowly ran a hand down across Fadi's heaving belly and under the waistband of the Speedo. As he grasped Fadi's cock, which was ramrod hard, Fadi struggled a bit and ineffectually, only half heartedly. He was making little whimpering sounds in the back of his throat. Gabe only stroked the cock a few times, before he felt Fadi involuntarily lift his hips to take over the stroking. Then Gabe pulled the front of the Speedo down to where its waistband was hooked under Fadi's balls and returned to grasping the cock, but only loosely this time. He allowed Fadi to stroke himself in the loose grasp of the hand, thrusting up and down.

Fadi's eyes were wide open, staring at the stars overhead, as if he wanted to deny what was happening down here on earth but at the same time didn't want to pull away from it. His mouth was open and slack, and without stopping to provide a sheath with his hand for Fadi to stroke, Gabe leaned over and took possession of Fadi's mouth again with his. He drew out Fadi's tongue lightly with his teeth and began to suck on it.

Fadi came quickly, and Gabe, laughing, pulled away from the kiss.

"Oh, god, sorry," Fadi whispered.

"No matter; there's more." In fact, Gabe was exhilarated at the evidence of Fadi's virginity. "Have you ever done that with a man before?" he asked, knowing from the response he'd gotten that Fadi hadn't--but had dreamed of it.

"No," Fadi whimpered.

"Have you ever been fucked by a man before?"

"No," Fadi answered, the sound coming out in a low, prolonged moan.

"But you've thought about it, wanted it, haven't you?"

No response; just trembling in Gabe's strong grasp

"There has to be a first time, if you think it's what you want, Fadi. I want to give you the first time. I've done it before. I'll treat you right."

"No," again the low moan.

"Don't be afraid, Fadi. I know it's what you want. See this, Fadi? We'll use this." He was holding up a Magnum condom packet. Of course he never told them he had to use Magnums. Not the virgins he fucked. Few of them realized how big their first one was until they went on to making comparisons. He knew that few of them would want to take his first if they realized how big he was built.

"Please," Fadi murmured.

"You mean please yes, don't you? We'll go slow. I'll get you ready for it."

Gabe rose on his knees and scooted down, slipping Fadi's Speedo off his legs and moving his knees between Fadi's calves. He lowered his mouth over Fadi's cock and ran his lips down the sides as he took it into his mouth.

Fadi moaned an "Oh, please," and dug his heels into the surface of the yielding towel and raised his hips to Gabe's face. Gabe palmed the young man's buttocks and kneaded and separated them as he sucked the cock. His thumbs moved ever closer to the hole until they were hooked on the rim on either side and pulling the hole open.

Fadi cried out "Oh, god, oh shit," as Gabe rolled Fadi's hips up and his mouth and tongue moved to the hole. The cry was carried away by the howling scream of the angry surf.

Now for what often was the most difficult part. But it was important to Gabe. The guy had to be willing.

"You want me inside you now, Fadi," he murmured. "If you don't want what I can give you, you have to say so."

He moved two fingers to the hole and then pressed in. He wanted Fadi ready to take him. Fadi shuddered but didn't resist. Even more indicative of his willingness, Fadi let his channel slowly move on the fingers Gabe was holding rigid inside him. "My cock, Fadi. You want me to ride you. You've been dreaming of this. You can't pass up this opportunity. Tell me you want me to fuck you. I'll do it right."

A short pause, laced with heavy breathing, Fadi's hips continuing their slow rocking on Gabe's buried fingers. But then, "Yes, I want you to fuck me," Fadi whimpered, the acknowledgment sounding like it had been pulled out of him with tongs.

Naked and crowned, Gabe stretched out beside a trembling and moaning Fadi and gently rolled the young man over on his side. He positioned his cock head between Fadi's butt cheeks, embraced him closely from behind with an arm encasing Fadi's chest. Fadi tensed, arched his back, and cried out, as the bulb of the cock entered him. With his free arm, Gabe pulled the young man's leg over his thigh, the closeness of the fit giving him another inch inside Fadi's passage.

He fucked Fadi shallowly, finding and caressing the young man's prostate with the bulb of his cock, patiently waiting for the huffing and puffing young man to open further to him.

At the sound of voices on the dune above them, the two men froze. Gabe held there, three inches inside Fadi's channel. His hand covered Fadi's mouth and his own mouth went to Fadi's ear. "Be very quiet. They can't see us here."

And that proved to be the case. In just a few moments the couple walking the beach at night were past them. The time of tension and suspension of fucking had a relaxing effect on Fadi, his muscles unclenched, and he moaned softly as Gabe sank inside him--only about five inches, though--and began to slow pump him. Fadi reached for his own cock and stroked himself off, again coming quickly.

When Gabe tensed and jerked and filled the bulb of the condom, he loosened his grip on Fadi. Fadi pulled away from him immediately, jumped up, grabbed his Speedo and T-shirt and raced up the sand toward the lights of the condos and houses.

Gabe let out a deep puff of air and turned on his back and smiled up at the constellations in the sky. If he'd had cigarettes on him, he would have had a victory smoke. He'd fucked his way into another virgin--a sweet-assed one. He just regretted he hadn't been able to give the guy a deep fuck. He'd been too aroused by everything Fadi was and did to hold off for a longer, deeper session. He would have liked to move to doggy fucking the sweet piece hard and fast and deep--finding out how much Fadi could take, how much he wanted it.

Of course he'd liked to have barebacked him too. But you couldn't have everything.

The euphoria of the victory lap didn't last as long as he'd wished. He'd never had a tail jump up and disappear that fast after he'd given them their first spike. Had he forced or rushed it? Was Fadi not really ready for it--wanting it as much as Gabe had thought he did? Had he wrecked the guy on the beach? He went over the whole evening in his mind, looking for the mixed or negative signals. Maybe Fadi hadn't been as much into losing his virginity to a man as Gabe wanted him to have been.

He maybe lay there for fifteen minutes before, with a groan, he stood up, rolled the spent condom off his pecker--not even thinking of littering the beach with it--and pulled his shorts on, slipping the condom in his pocket. He had a drawer in his apartment for this--marked with the name and date of the conquest. He pulled the towel up and folded it, tossed his T-shirt over his shoulder, and headed up toward the line of buildings.

Fadi was waiting for him, at where 130th Street met the beach. He was leaning against the wall of the side of a condo building, his arms crossed on his chest like he was cold.

"You OK?" Gabe asked as he approached, genuinely concerned that they hadn't done anything that Fadi really wanted and needed.

"Do you have someplace else we can go?" Fadi asked in a low voice.

"My rooms are only a couple of blocks away."

"Let's hurry," Fadi answered.

This time Gabe fucked Fadi deep and at length, the small of Fadi's back lying on the end of Gabe's bed, his legs wrapped around Gabe's waist, just as Gabe had envisioned earlier, and commanding Gabe to give it to him good.

Which Gabe was happy to do.

Once more, after the fuck, Fadi was up and out of there. But Gabe no longer wondered if the sweet little piece had wanted it. When they had gotten around to the hard, fast, and deep doggy position, Fadi had seemed to like it just fine.

* * * *

The Lebanese family didn't come back to Gabe's section of the beach either the next day or the day after that, and Gabe pretty much forgot about another encounter with the sweet young Fadi, aided by having landed and spiked another "looking for it for the first time" eighteen-year-old surfer the second night. The guy had sought him out. The seduction didn't even require a six pack of beer--just a smile and the flexing of his muscles, a ride out onto the beach in his truck, and the rocking of the truck as the surfer sat, facing him, in his lap and fucked himself on the cock. The guy couldn't lose his virginity to Gabe fast enough.

Still, the taking of Fadi was sweeter, Gabe thought. More of a challenge; more of a reward in Fadi's surrender to him--followed by Fadi wanting him again and then stoically taking him multiple times.

On the third night after the Fadi taking, Gabe was surprised to run into him again. There was only one gay-friendly bar in Ocean City, the Underground. Gabe entered that to be taken aback when his eyes adjusted to the dim light, by the vision of a massive, hairy trucker type of guy wrapped around a smiling and eyelash fluttering Fadi at the bar. There was a beer in front of both of them.

Had the guy with Fadi intimidated the barkeep to serve Fadi, or was Fadi older than nineteen, Gabe wondered.

Also, the way the trucker type was pawing Fadi and Fadi was responding to it, the thought that maybe Fadi hadn't been as virginal as Gabe thought he was started needling at Gabe's brain. Fadi saw him belly up to the bar and gave him a warm smile. Whatever the circumstances had been, it had been a good fuck, Gabe reasoned.

"Fuck it," he muttered, "We had fun." And, as the hulk guided Fadi toward a beaded-curtain-hung doorway at the back of the bar, beyond where, Gabe knew, there were private rooms, Gabe turned his attention to a group of three guys at a table. A guy maybe in his forties, with a pretty face but not with the muscles Gabe had, was with two young guys with deer-in-the-headlights looks in their faces. Both were honeys. With luck college freshmen or sophomores here from their university town with the pact between them to lose it at the beach.

Free game and with all the markings of seeking virgins, he thought, as he moved toward the table. The old guy couldn't possibly break in both of them, and he was no competition for Gabe anyway, the hunky lifeguard thought, as he pulled a chair out from the table and asked, "You guys want a bit of company? And maybe a good time?"

The looks he got from the fresh bodies told him that he could have his pick--or maybe both.



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