This quickie features
Gay Male
sex, and as such, it was really outside the comfort zone for me to write. Nevertheless, I had a ton of fun writing it. I hope you enjoy reading it!
This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
This One Time at Surf Camp
"Pretty much every girl here wants a piece of Damien. What can I say, Jake? He's hot. You can see that, can't you? But... he's as gay as they come. Funny how that works, huh?"
Those were the words that came from my friend Roz as we bobbed on surfboards just off a beautiful beach in Bali waiting to catch the next wave. Words that made my heart pound though there was no reason why they should. Sure, Damien was objectively attractive. But I wasn't gay. So why should I care? Why should my heart be racing?
Roz was a spunky spitfire of an Asian American girl I met in a hostel in Chiang Mai. We had clicked, and since then, have been traveling all around Southeast Asia together. She had been the one to convince me that a weeklong surf camp in Bali was just the thing I needed to get over the breakup with my girlfriend of over eight years. I figured she was right, so that's how I found myself floating next to her on a surfboard right off the beach of the most stunning places I've ever been to.
I scoffed at her for her assertion. "What? No way."
"Yeah way! Wanna bet?" She replied. But before she could give any supporting evidence, a surfable wave began to form and she paddled into position to catch it, leaving me behind to reckon with the confluence of a couple of troubling facts. The first being that despite there being an insane number of very hot, single girls at this surf camp, I found my eyes and mind often wandering to Damien. The second was my involuntary reaction to the possibility that he might be gay, which was nothing short of excitement.
Damien was from Ireland. He had dirty blonde hair and the body of a Greek god. The pensive way he held his body while he stared out at the ocean horizon with his sea-green eyes, and the soft way with which he spoke, had every chick in this camp swooning. As much as I wanted to hate his cliche broodiness, I couldn't deny that I was also drawn to him. But as uncomfortable as it made me feel whenever I caught myself watching him, the most uncomfortable, was how whenever he broke his sea-green eyes off of whatever distant thing he stared at, he'd always turn those eyes to me as if it were an instinct to find me, and then he'd catch me watching him and smile. I'd glance away of course, but not before catching his smile. Because of this, I concertedly avoided interacting with him alone. I was afraid of what might happen if I did. Now more so after Roz confirmed my suspicions.
I had nothing against gay people. The problem is, for as long as I remembered, I always had an undeniable attraction to men. This was a problem because of the way I grew up. I grew up on a farm in a very conservative part of Idaho. There was a certain expectation there. Play football. Drive a pick up. Marry your high school sweetheart, and not be gay. I wasn't supposed to be into men. That would change everything about me. What would my mom and dad think of me? And my two younger brothers? It was better to suppress it. Yet... I couldn't deny the feeling. I couldn't deny that I was attracted to Damien.
Once, while preparing dinner, Damien came over to a spot next to me in the kitchen while I sliced English cucumbers for the salad. He started chopping carrots and because space was tight, he constantly brushed his arm against mine as he chopped. The brushing of his skin, the flexing of his muscles whenever he drove the knife down on the carrot, and his masculine scent -- it all filled me with unbearable electricity. I had such a throbbing hard-on, that once I was done slicing the cucumbers, I couldn't move away from my spot. I was afraid he might spot my hard dick in my sweatpants. Instead, dick-hard, I stayed at my station, and dumbly started to julienne the cucumbers into matchsticks.
That night, we all went out clubbing. I danced with Roz. A salvo of shots later, we made out on the dance floor, then we snuck away from the group. We went to her bungalow room back at the camp and fucked. This wasn't the first time she tried to fuck me. She had tried before in Chiang Mai, and that's how we became friends. She got her way with me this time because there was a lot at stake. Like, if I didn't fuck her, then that just proved that I was veritably attracted to Damien. So, fucking her was a sort of rejection of the feelings inside me that I had always been taught to reject.
That wasn't to say that I didn't find Roz attractive. Objectively speaking, she was hot. She was kinky. Better yet, she offered me the opportunity to quench my forbidden fire with her fire. Despite that my thoughts still somehow cut to Damien while we fucked. I couldn't stop the intruding fantasies. Her lips against mine made me think of Damien's lips. Putting my hand up her shirt made me think how Damien's rippled abs and taut chest might feel. Entering her made me think of...
fuck!
I couldn't help it. When I had my cock deep inside her, it only made sense for me to think of being inside Damien. And that did it for me.
After sex, Roz and I went out to the bonfire that had been stoked by the others who had by then lingered back from the night clubs. An unseasonable monsoon swept through. We sat out in the rain and got drenched. The bonfire turned into a smoky sizzle. I spotted Damien sitting on a log by himself on the edge of the beach. He glanced back and saw me with Roz and I spotted through the warm rain a weak smile that said he knew we had just hooked up. That smile felt like a punch to the gut.
For the remaining days of surf camp, he avoided me or when he couldn't, he'd only speak to me cordially. Still, I had him constantly on my mind. Even more so now, in fact. Frantic thoughts that I had somehow fucked it all up. What "it" was exactly that I fucked up was beside the point.
It was on the last night of the surf camp -- Roz and I were heading to Jakarta the following day -- when the deeply unsettled feeling of desperation began to boil over inside me that I stumbled onto an opportunity to make it all up with Damien in one way or another.
At sundown and after packing my bags, I went for one last walk along the beach to settle the terrible feeling of desperation when, to my surprise, I found Damien alone at the far end of the beach lying on a beach towel, leaning on an elbow, watching the sun paint the sky and the feathery clouds amber. His swim trunks were wet, and water swept his hair back and dripped freshly onto his muscular shoulders.
Seeing him cheered me up and frightened me at the same time. I stood awkwardly for a second before clearing my throat and saying, "Hey, Damien. Getting a last swim in?"
"Hiya Jake. Yeah. Had to. Really going to miss this place."
I went to sit next to him. "So what's next for you?" I asked.
He replied with a shrug, then gestured with his chin to the dipping sun. "Just taking it one sunset at a time."
We sat silently and watched the sun melt into the ocean, and listened to the roar of the breakers, and the fizzing of the shore waves sliding over the sand. I was hot from Damien's nearness. My heart raced. I was careful not to glance his way, scared that I'd catch his eyes and be forced to confront that thing I was most afraid of in myself. But there was a fundamental flaw in that plan. The more I restrained myself from committing that forbidden gesture, the more easily the taboo thoughts entered my mind. Soon enough, I felt my cock grow inside my swim trunks. I shifted uncomfortably.
That shift did me in. Damien noticed and glanced down at my crotch. And that glance made me do what I had been, until that point, diligently careful to not do. It was kind of like how they say don't look directly at a solar eclipse without the proper equipment. Of course, you're going to look. How can you not after being warned? So, I looked down at his swim trunks too, like the moon had just blotted out the sun there, and saw that he was also hard. I let out an inadvertent exhale then I glanced back up into Damien's eyes. I don't know what expression I had on my face, but likely something that made my attraction to him fairly obvious, because just then, without saying a word, he leaned in and kissed me on the lips. My mouth went open for a moment permissively, but when I felt his tongue brush against mine, I jolted and pulled away from him.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I said. The words came out of me automatically, as if I were programmed to say them.
He gave me a look that was more hurt than confused. He cocked his head to one side and said,
