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Stripping Down The Speedos

By Billy Jay

submitted July 9, 2001

Categories: Summer Adventures

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I'm Klick and my best friend got his nickname at the same time I got mine--he's Ridge. How? We were always taking out war movies and it's always the same story in the infantry: "Hey, how many more klicks do we have to go? Answer: About another three klicks across this ridge." Etc. So our friends named us Klick and Ridge. We were always hanging around one another.

With four years of college ahead of us, we both decided to take up my parents’ offer to just chill down at our place in Avalon, NJ. A month and a half of just doing whatever we wanted to do. Ridge and I were great swimmers and my parents’ place was a small white clapboard cottage that sits at the water's edge on the bay side of the Island, a perfect place to swim for miles with a buddy.

Although we're both swimmers and have the bodies to prove it, we both wear glasses--wire rims with lean rectangular lenses. I don't know if it works for Ridge like it does for me, but to look at his great tanned body in those wire rim glasses sets up very friendly feelings in me. I wanna touch him in a way that is different from the way we touch in the water or when we give each other a hand up out of the water. And right now while I'm driving the Jeep across the causeway with the food we've bought in the back, I take pleasure in seeing Ridge slouched back with his right leg hanging out over the road. The tan, his six-pack and what lies in his shorts attract looks of appreciation from me that he sees and frankly enjoys. There's not much we can hide from one another and yet....

There is one thing we do that keeps us apart. We both pretend to be straight. Everything we've ever done has been the kind of thing you do when you go to a private high school, that is, a ton of homework and after school sports and clubs, etc. If you were straight at our school you'd have a girlfriend and you'd be getting some--or at least be bragging that you've scored. Straight-acting gays talk around the whole subject of sex like Ridge and I did. Now, we don't have anybody looking at us and checking every word and action for what it means. Now, we can be who we are. Ridge has got his leg out and I have my leg up. Things are getting nice and easy, nice and easy does it.

We had gotten into this thing of doing a three-mile swim before breakfast. Now, nearing the end of our first week of freedom, we were beginning to really get into shape and getting horny as a guy can get without screaming. I didn't know what was happening when I reached out to Ridge to give him a hand to help him up onto the floating dock after our swim. He grabbed my forearm, resisted my pull and pulled me over him, back into the water. The water was icy and I was glad to be out of it. The dunking he gave me was followed by two more fast dunkings and I was sputtering.

Ridge just swam to the dock and pulled himself up out of the water effortlessly, glistening in the sun, with goosebumps from the chill water, with water dripping down from the bulge in his lime green Speedos. I got out glaring at him--he had done this kind of thing before and so had I, but this morning something else was going on.

My parents kept the place well landscaped using plants that were natural to the area. The plantings also made for an unusual amount of privacy. Ridge turned away from me and headed toward the outdoor shower where we usually took separate showers after our swim. My Speedos followed his Speedos. It was cock after cock. There was something horny in the air and I didn't know what was happening. I just followed his body as it jogged ahead of me toward a warm shower.

In a private space surrounded by evergreens and holly, with our feet in rough stubble and smooth white sand, Ridge turned on me suddenly. More masculine games. So I thought.

His feet spread wide apart and his arms straight in front of him he stopped me short with the palms of his hands against my pecs and as I pressed aggressively towards him, his arms gave me more and more ground until I was defiantly face to face with him. Our arms crisscrossed to touch the other's hips, to feel each other's firm buns in cold, wet Speedos. Hardening cocks, dripping cold salt water touched.

Our eyes went from hard mock-aggressive glaring into a softness in which our gaze drifted away and how is it that our lips met for the first time....

Our first tentative kiss was brought into glory by our hard cocks just barely touching through our swim suits. We opened our mouths for the full French Kiss and our pounding hearts were racing. Cold bodies, wet suits, hard cocks and a locked on passionate kiss in the morning sun. What, tell me what was happening. This guy is now declared for me and yo, we are going for it. Stripping down Speedos has never been like this before....


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