top of page
Search
  • Writer's pictureGood Guy

Adam Šindler: On the rocks



A summer story based on true events in September 2023


“John! Did you see him?” I turn sharply behind me and tap my partner on the shoulder.

We glide along the promenade of a small town and go to the sea. It's warm, bags in hand and folding foam sunbeds. We pass one yacht next to another, today they have a meeting or something. There were only a few around this time yesterday. But one of them has a huge, rainbow flag flying, which of course catches our attention.


We are already some way behind the ship, when at the last moment I peripherally register the movement on board. I'm turning around. John has also stopped and is staring with me. We are incredibly curious as to who could possibly be on a yacht with such an unambiguously eye-catching symbol.


A smaller, stocky figure with a plastered-on head and a week's beard leans against the rail at the stern, peering in our direction just as inquisitively.


"Do you think it belongs to him or is he just sucking someone's dick?" I'm trying to joke.


John waves and the figure at the stern responds with the same gesture.


"He really waved too, did you see that?" I am laughing.


We continue, the promenade slowly ends, we are at the edge of the town. We see a small, pebbly beach in such a tight bay. There are only textile guys on it. Nothing for us. We go for nude beach. It's not here, but a little further on there are white rocks, with flat boulders, and we'll stay somewhere there.


"Look, look!" I strain between my teeth and nudge John from behind so that it cannot be seen.


There is a strange trio against us. A small, skinny twist in pink shorts. An older mustachioed guy, wrapped in what looks like a fishing net. And then a smaller, stronger gentleman with a patch on his forehead.


"You think they're from that ship?" I imagine as soon as we greeted them and let them go on.


"Yeah, they could," agrees John, "we're going this way, up the trail."


The disadvantage of places where you can swim without a swimsuit is that you can usually only get to them by difficult-to-pass roads, often mountaineering equipment would be useful. Goat trails. When we were on Vis last year, we had to abseil to nuda beach on a rope that someone had wrapped around the trunk of a pine tree. True, there were even gloves lying there, which is a nice gesture. In any case, you will do it once or twice at the most, because climbing a rope to the beach while carrying a hearty snack and liters of water, tanning gear, towels and deckchairs... that's like hiring a local sherpa.


Here, the goat trail is fine. We have to make our way through an olive grove, cross a few terraces and it's not that steep. We walk over white boulders, the water is beautiful here, the wind is not blowing, an ideal day. A little further on there are several nice flat ones, you can even lie down here.


"Flawless, we can stay here," smiles John, "and no one is here!"


We kiss each other as a sign of joy that we found a nice place where we can enjoy a nice day.


We are so exhausted after the difficult journey through the whole town that we immediately go barefoot and into the water. I love the first swim after arriving at the beach. A hot and sweaty body is cooled and washed, and never mind when the water is colder. For a while we look for a suitable place to climb in, then it gets stuck and we are there.


The water is great, crystal clear, just warm, no urchins anywhere. A holiday paradise! I enjoy the feeling of the sea on my naked body and I honestly don't understand how anyone can swim in a swimsuit. It is only a small piece of fabric, but the feeling of absolute freedom and acceptance can only be experienced without them.


"Someone's coming!" I'm disappointed that our paradise was disturbed by an intruder so soon.


A figure slowly creeps along the rocks, but it is somehow familiar to me. I swim closer to John.


"Isn't that the one from that ship?" asks John and watches carefully, because he can't see far enough.


"And you know you might!"


A young guy, no more than thirty years old, stops near our belongings. Down the boulders to the water. John waves at him once from the water. The boy answers. He strips down to his swimsuit.


"That's him, huh?" I make sure and start to get nervous. What does that mean?

"Yes, he is," confirms Honza and smiles stupidly.


This has only one meaning. There's something going on in his head. And it's clear what is it!


A boy in a swimsuit climbs into the water and swims a little further away from us. We both watch him.


"A bit cold huh?" John passes to him in English.


The boy nods in agreement, but says nothing more.


So we continue to swim in the water, but it looks more like we are just circling around hungrily, waiting for prey. I'm a bit disappointed as I was looking forward to sunbathe undisturbed and so far it looks like there will be a conversation with an unknown visitor. I really don't like making contacts, but John loves it. The advantage is that he says everything for me as well, and I usually just go along in silence.


The boy climbs out of the water. Looks good. Round face, lightly bearded, smaller but not fat. We both watch him.


He takes off his swimsuit and wring it. Our eyes now point in only one direction, to one specific place. The time of revelation has arrived and the man's curiosity will allow nothing but to stare hungrily. Yeah, right there.


The boy stands upright. Almost majestically. Like a lion. He looks around and is not ashamed at all. That gets me. He's just showing off here.


And what more! He is getting hard!


We stare dumbfounded as the boy displays himself on the rock and pretends nothing is wrong. Provocateur! Now it is clear that it does not seem so to us, because the proof is quite evident and sufficiently visible even from a distance. It's a huge hammer.


I guess I'm just dreaming. What will it be like now?


"Can we follow you?" John asks. The dilemma is solved.


I feel like I'm in a dream, I don't notice anything around me at all, all thoughts have left me. I don't have time to assess the situation. My husband, as usual, confronts me with the finished situation. I am not protesting, there is no room to disturb this unique situation.


We emerge at his boulder. Now he is looking at us curiously. We're already well-rounded, so there's nothing to be ashamed of.


"Hello captain," I greet him, but at the same time I'm eagerly touching his chubby butt, "are you the captain?"

"I am," he replies.


He has beautiful eyes full of sparkles, he smiles beautifully and is so easy-going to look at. He's actually really cute. And his confidence is absolutely disarming.


"Can I kiss you?" I ask and I know he won't say no. 


We are three naked guys on a boulder and the groping and kissing begins. We caress each other, kiss and touch to test the calibration and caliber. I kneel down first and taste. It is so wide that it hardly fits to my mouth, I have to try really hard. We are all fired up, excited and full of expectations.


It is high noon, we are all alone on the rocks, naked and longing. We make each other good. I don't get it at all. What is the probability of this happening? 


Suddenly the waves rise, the horn is blown, and a large ferry passes by. It's quite far, but not so far that they can't see what's going on from the deck. We turn our backs, the passengers have to make do with our bare asses.


I kneel down again and take turns taking them both while the two of them make a screen in front of the ferry. Then we take turns for a while, the captain is gentle and gentle with me, just the way I like it. I sigh into the waves. I might burst with excitement. Finally the captain takes turns on both of us and we kiss passionately while he serves us quite decently below.


It can't be sustained for long, so we climb into a circle, tails against each other, and watch three hands hard at work on the rock finale. We cum almost at the same time. The captain is the first to cum, and the sight is so hot that then we can do it on our own. The cumshots alternately fall on the stone on which we stand and almost immediately are laughed at by ripples that still reverberate after the passage of the ferry.


We are squealed, splashed, and the final kisses and caresses are underway.


"Thanks guys for a nice experience," he pulls on his swimsuit and heads back to his yacht.


And now we can really enjoy sunbathing in peace. In peace? Who would leave this alone?




 


     


   


       



Recent Posts

See All

Comments


bottom of page