Out in the Surf (Out in College 9)

Just when I thought I should warn him, he slowed the pace and rolled us over so I was on top. He told me to ride him. So I did.

I splayed one hand on his chest and rode him hard. So much for being sensitive. I wanted him too much. My control teetered, then faltered as my orgasm approached like a runaway freight train.

“Fuck, you are so hot. You feel so good, so tight, so…” Cal roared, grabbing my thighs for purchase as he bucked his hips wildly and fell apart.

One more pull on my cock and I was right there with him. Cum spurted over my fist and across his abs. I gasped for air, playfully smearing the mess I’d made. We laughed for no reason and all the reasons…this felt good and right and real. Maybe it was only a moment, but it was worth holding on to for as long as possible.

Sometime later, we redressed, put on sweatshirts, and went to the upstairs deck to watch the stars and listen to the waves. We were quiet for a short while, but it wasn’t awkward at all. It was sweet. It felt nice to be with someone and not feel the need to fill the silence.

And when we did speak, something unexpected happened. It was as if our respective armor cracked, allowing us to share freely. Don’t get crazy. We didn’t deep-dive into childhood trauma or analyze our life choices. We talked about our favorite movies and our dream jobs when we were kids. Topics we’d glossed over in the past suddenly seemed significant. I didn’t just want to know the name of that favorite movie, I wanted to know why, how old he’d been, and who he’d watched it with. I wanted his every detail.

Our six-year age difference wasn’t much in the scheme of things. However, according to Cal, I’d missed out on a few awesome video games and Nickelodeon shows. I teased him about his throwbacks to the dark ages and he pretended to be offended. But he also couldn’t stop touching me. His hand on my arm, my hip, my waist, my hair. And I couldn’t get enough. I leaned into his touch and hung on his every word, feeling more centered and at peace than I had in a year.

I rested my hip on the railing and wrapped my arms over my chest for warmth when the wind kicked up. I didn’t want to ruin the moment, but I had to know something.

“Tonight was good. I just…want to be sure you’re okay.”

Cal turned to me, his features half-shadowed in the moonlight. He cupped my chin and rubbed his thumb along my jawline. It was a lover’s touch. Not a fuck-buddy or a friend thing. It was the simplest, sweetest, smallest gesture, but it was filled with easy affection. He didn’t have to say a word, but he did.

“I loved it. Thank you.”

I snorted. “Don’t thank me. As you could tell, it was definitely my pleasure.”

Cal smiled, slipping his arm around my waist and pulling me against his side. “Mine too, but that wasn’t what I meant. Thank you for…being you. Tonight was perfect. It is perfect.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Do you want to stay?”

I did a double take. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask if that was really okay or wise. Someone might notice, and he’d have some explaining to do. But Cal was a smart dude. He didn’t need to be reminded that I was a guy. He knew the risks. So I swallowed my “Are you sure?” speech and bit his chin playfully.

“What’s for breakfast?”

“Oatmeal?”

“Hmm. With brown sugar?”

“Of course. I have berries too.”

I nudged my nose against his. “Strawberries?”

“And blueberries.”

“I’m in.”

Cal grinned. “Good. You have to help me change the sheets first.”

“Deal.”

I winked, then turned to the sea to hide my smile when it threatened to give me away.

Damn, I had it bad.

Sure, I’d had a crush on this man from the moment we’d met, but the reality of Cal was so much sweeter than the idealized surfer sage hero I’d imagined. He didn’t profess to know all the answers. He couldn’t solve my problems or erase old scars, but being with him calmed me. And in all my messy, clueless-wonder ways, I wanted to think I had something to offer him too. I had no idea what that might be. For now, I was content and happy. Knowing he felt the same was enough.

More than enough.

6

Cal

“Grr. Would you care to discuss the joys of neoprene with the middle-aged know-it-all out front?”

I glanced up from a box of new apparel when Sarah swept into the back room and made a beeline to the rack of rental wetsuits.

“Instead of unpacking all this winter crap? But I’m having a blast,” I snarked.

Sarah twitched her nose in distaste. “I bet. Did we get anything fun?”