The Boy Can't Help It

Blue Star Boy

Blue Star Boy

Taking the summer off before graduate school to do a s*x tour of America turned out to be my best idea ever. After screwing an airline pilot, a gymnast, and a biker who rode one of those crotch-rocket Ninjas, my next target was a surfer. Oddly, the hunt brought me to Texas. I’d been told online gossip about a boy named Adriano who surfed Matagorda Bay during the week and gave up his gorgeous ass to different guys right there on the beach after sunset. From the photos I’d seen on a certain website, I absolutely wanted to be inside him. Correction: I needed to be.

I stood on a small scrubby dune overlooking the water. It was Wednesday, and I’d been told he usually was the only one out on a weekday morning. It had taken me a couple days to find the deserted beach he was said to frequent. Now I watched him through binoculars, making sure I had the right guy. Yep, there it was: A blue star tattooed on his lower back, just above the band of the board shorts that clung to his ass. His body reminded me of the tennis player, Rafael Nadal—ripped biceps and a firm, round rump that couldn’t help but jut out. My d**k stiffened.

He inspected his upper arm a moment, and then he shouldered his board and waded to shore. Through binoculars, I saw him wave to me to come meet him on the beach. I hustled down the dune and waited for him. I found myself staring at his smooth, pumped chest and flat abs. Up close he looked about twenty.

“Hey, guy,” he said, “I think I got stung by a jellyfish. You don’t have any painkillers, do you? Or Benadryl?”

“Oh, gosh. Let me see.” I put my hands on his muscular, damp arm, but he pulled away.

“Dude, don’t touch it. If you get the venom on you, it’ll sting like a bitch.”

I examined his shoulder, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Until he brushed away my hands, I’d thought the jellyfish sting had been a ruse to get next to me. Now I wasn’t so sure.

“Uh, what’s good for that? Vinegar? I could go back to town and get you some. And Benadryl or whatever.”

“Would you? You’d totally be my hero.”

Oh, hello. “Yeah, rinse off your shoulder in the water and then sit tight.”

Twenty minutes later, I returned with vinegar, gauze, and everything but a nurse.

“Holy s**t, I’m not dying,” he said when he saw the big paper sack of supplies.

“Just let me take care of you.” I spoke in the relaxing voice I used when I wanted a guy to give me control. God, I wanted him. He was about 5’8”—perfect since I like my bottoms to be a little shorter than me. Now that his hair was dry, I could see his dark curls fell to just above his shoulders.

His arm did have a small row of welts now. He winced as I dabbed vinegar-soaked cotton over them. He popped a Benadryl.

“I brought you a soda so you could take the pills, but I see you don’t need it.”

He grinned. Wow, what a beautiful smile.

“This’ll teach me not to wear a rash guard. I really appreciate your help.”

“No sweat, Adriano.”

He looked up, stunned. Oh, s**t.

“How did you know my name?”

“Just…I guess…I recognized you.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You did a search for gay s*x and surfing and came up with a page for BlueStarSurfer.”

“Yeah, you caught me. That was it.”

“My goddamn ex put that up. s**t, the trouble he’s caused me.”

At least he continued to let me tape gauze to his shoulder instead of storming off. His skin was smooth, tan, and invitingly soft. So soft, in fact, I touched him more than I needed just to apply a bandage.

“So, no, I don’t let every guy that watches me surf f**k me at sunset.”

“Yeah, well, good…but I did think you were adorable in the photos,” I said. He’d been flirting up until he found out I knew his name. I had to salvage this.

“Thanks,” he said but his voice had gone cold. He didn’t look at me. “At least you’re honest about why you’re here. That’s a first.”

“Yeah, but I guess I’m still a sleazy ass-hound, huh?”

“True that. But you bandaged up my arm. That’s worth a kiss.”

He leaned over and put his lips on mine as a pleasurable, warm sensation rose from my stomach. It startled me because I almost never like kissing.

“But that’s all, ass-hound. I’m gonna walk home and get in bed before the Benadryl takes me down.” He blinked hair out of his beautiful brown eyes. “What’s your name?”

“Jerry.”

“Okay, Jerry. Thanks. See you around.” I watched him saunter away, his bouncing walk revealing the confidence of a young man who knew he was often desired. It was odd that I should think of him as “young.” Though I was only a couple years older, I felt ancient in comparison.

The next day it rained, but Friday I returned to my dune and watched Adriano. I couldn’t resist, and I hadn’t given up hope that my act of kindness would be rewarded big time. He was shirtless again which made me chuckle. It must have been more important to show off his body than to protect himself from jellyfish.

I didn’t get the impression Adriano was some kind of champion surfer. If so, he wouldn’t be on the Texas coast on a beach that no one bothered with except on weekends. On the other hand, he seemed to know which waves were going to be worth riding before I could even see the swell, and he always managed several cuts up and down before stepping off the board in the shallows. He only fell once, and when he tried to remount his board, I saw a lot farther below the blue star. The wave had knocked his shorts down around his knees, giving me a great view of his perfect, round ass, glistening wet in the sunshine. When he realized what had happened, he yanked up his shorts as fast as he could and turned to where I’d been watching with an embarrassed laugh. I gave him a loud wolf whistle and a thumbs-up. He laughed again. It was such a sweet sound I felt myself yearning to hold him in my arms.

I tried to shake the feeling off. I don’t fall for the guys I f****d or wanted to f**k. I was too young. Jerry, just focus on tagging this boy’s tail.

A half hour later when Adriano walked up the beach, I had returned fully to hound mode.

“Okay, now that you’ve let me see it, you’ve got to let me f**k it, dude,” I said, rubbing my crotch in what I hoped was a provocative manner.

He shot me a playful grin. “No, I don’t.”

“I took care of your jellyfish sting. What do I need to do to earn a shot at your ass?”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Man, you’re bold.” He thought for a minute. “All right. Let me teach you to surf. If you get good enough to ride one all the way in, then…well…” He broke off, laughing.

“Seriously? I have to learn to surf?”

“Why not? That’ll prove that you’re interested in making me happy, too, instead of just getting your own rocks off.”

“But the other guys didn’t have to learn to surf, did they? They just got to f**k you.”

He frowned and fidgeted.

I started to massage his crotch and stroked the blue star on his back. “Dude, let me get your legs in the air for a little while. It won’t be just you giving me pleasure, I promise. I know how to be good to a bottom. You’ll be begging me never to stop.”

I felt him start to stiffen in his shorts, but he pulled my hand away. “C’mon, don’t.” His breath came rapidly. “Look, I want to, but I’m not into people thinking I’m a slut.”

“Please,” I begged.

He whimpered twice, gave me a look of resignation, and stripped off his board shorts. In a flash, he was on all fours, offering up his ass like it said he would on the website. So he was a slut. My favorite kind of guy. I smiled. I was getting him way before sunset.

As I bent down to stroke his crack in conquest, I caught the expression on his face. It was not one of lust or expectant ecstasy. Instead, I read conflict, maybe even sadness.

Fucking hell. My d**k had never wanted to claim an ass so badly, and there was nothing to stop me. But maybe for the first time ever I felt like I didn’t want to take from someone who was so trusting and sweet when there was a good chance there’d be regret and resentment after his orgasm. I’d seen it before.

“Hey,” I said, moving around so I could take his chin in my fingers. “Teach me to surf.”

He gave me a confused look. Considering how gorgeous he was, I bet no one had stopped himself before. s**t. I hoped I didn’t insult him by not just going for it. Maybe it’d been a bad idea to deny my d**k right at that moment.

He flipped over on his back and looked at me with genuine curiosity.

“There’s a small rip current here that can be dangerous at low tide,” Adriano said, his breathing still shallow and fast. “Are you a good swimmer?”

“Not bad, but probably not rip current good.”

He stood up and grabbed his board shorts. “Okay, we’ll go up to the main beach. Let’s stop by my uncle’s and get my other board and some trunks for you.”

We drove my car down a sandy, barely paved road for about two miles. He held his right hand out the window, keeping his board fixed to the roof. I drove slowly to help him out.

The only redeeming quality of the dilapidated shack Adriano shared with his uncle was that you could walk to that hidden beach. Adriano’s room wasn’t much bigger than a closet, but it held a mattress and a dresser. As far as I could tell there wasn’t a TV or computer anywhere in the house, but he’d left a radio on, and a droning voice spoke of tides and water temperature. On the walls amidst cracked and dented plaster, there were a few posters. Two of surfers riding huge waves and one of a koala. Interesting. Now that I thought about it, Adriano kind of had a cuddly koala quality to him.

He tossed a blue bathing suit at me. “See if that fits. And here’s a rash guard,” he said, throwing me a clingy black shirt.

I turned my back and stripped.

“I don’t get to see your d**k?” Adriano asked behind me. Even without looking, I knew he had a mischievous grin on his face.

“Nope. Not yet. It’s worth waiting for though.”

We piled his longboards into the back of a rusted pickup and drove about five miles in the opposite direction from his little hidden beach.

“So what do you do for money, Blue Star Boy?” I asked.

“Valero gas station. I fill in some weekends.”

“That’s it?”

He was silent for a moment. “And I turn a few tricks. Older local guys I trust.” He looked embarrassed and regretful. “Does that ruin me for you?”

“Not at all. But does it ruin you for you?”

He bit his lip. “Let’s change the subject. Are you nervous?”

“Nah. You’re not going to let anything happen to me.”

He took his eyes off the road and gave me another meaningful look, practically studying me. “That’s right. I won’t.”

Adriano wanted to start on the sand to show me how to “pop up” on the board from prone to standing, but I told him to skip it. I’d already seen him do it tons of times.

Texas waters aren’t the cleanest, and Matagorda is no exception. Today, at least, the water was not too murky or gunked up with seaweed.

“Good amount of wind. Not too choppy,” Adriano said as we waded out. “Okay, first, get on deck, and I’ll show you how to paddle out to the break.”

“I think I can figure that out. I’m a quick learner.”

“Yeah, maybe, but you’re getting on the surfboard the wrong way around.”

“Oh.”

I did about that well for the first half hour. He said he was giving me a course called “Getting to Know Your Wave.” This must have bored him to pieces, but he was patient. He would just yell “Now! Now, now, now!” whenever he wanted me to “drop in” on a wave. I’d ride in on my stomach, getting a face full of water each time. I felt like I was a little kid back in Michigan experiencing the thrill of a toboggan for the first time. I must have had a big goofy grin, and all I could think was “Again! Again!”

Naturally, I figured I could do more than what I was told I could, and after riding waves on my stomach about ten times, I decided to stand up. I heard Adriano shout “Whoa! Whoa!” when I made it to my knees, but then the front of the board tilted sharply up, and I fell over backwards, crashing into the water. Adriano reached me before I’d recovered, and he helped me retrieve my board.

“That was brave, dude, but put your left foot in front—hey, you really banged up your arm.”

“It’s all right. Lemme try again.”

He grabbed my hand under the water. “It’s getting a little rough out here for a newbie. You want to stay over and do a dawn patrol tomorrow?”

Of course, I did.

He drove me to my car, and then I took him to a cheap restaurant for dinner. He ate enough spaghetti for three people. I wondered how often he got a decent meal.

“Your uncle won’t mind if I’m there tonight?”

“He’s on an oil rig. He won’t be back for another week.”

I licked my lips. “Perfect.”

That night I was getting his ass, and we both knew it. He took a shower to wash off the salt and didn’t even bother to dress again. He just tumbled face down onto his mattress nude and looked up at me expectantly.

I grabbed some lube and a condom from my jeans’ pocket. I warmed up a dollop of lubricant in my hand so it wouldn’t be too cold when I rubbed it on his hole.

“Just a sec.” Adriano reached over and turned off the weather report. Then he switched on a CD player. Out came Joan Jett singing “Crimson and Clover.” My eyes widened in surprise.

“Hey, this is my favorite song,” I said.

“Seriously? Mine, too,” he said, arching his back for me. “I like having s*x to it.”

I know most guys like foreplay and sucking before moving on to anal intercourse. That’s okay once in a while, but I preferred getting into an ass as soon as possible. I slid two fingers inside Adriano, trying to slowly stretch him for my large prick, then I couldn’t wait any more.

“Unnh!” he barked as my d**k drove into him, his head snapping back in effort. He felt incredible. So tight, so intensely soft, and so warm. He wriggled underneath me, making me need to chase his ass a bit, so I could stay buried as deep as possible. He had me so turned on it felt like my erection was bigger than ever.

I’m large enough that a lot of bottoms have to just stay still and take deep, relaxing breaths to manage me. After a minute, Adriano pushed back on my d**k, meeting every thrust like no one had done before. His skin was so soft I needed to touch him everywhere. I pushed him flat on his stomach, so I could have as much body contact as possible. I know that position is too tight and painful for a lot of bottoms, but Adriano’s fevered grinding made sure I stayed in as deep as I could. With every stroke, it felt like he gave me not just his ass, but his entire being. Before I knew what I was doing, I kissed his neck and back, biting him lightly, which made him gasp with pleasure. I almost never kissed anyone, but this time I couldn’t resist.

Adriano was so good at taking my d**k I wanted to try something that had never worked for me before. I remembered there had been a counter out in the kitchen. Being buried inside Adriano felt so good it pained me to pull out, but I stood up and lifted him in my arms.

He looked confused. “What are you doing? Did you come?”

“Ohhhh, no. You’ll definitely know it when that happens.” I carried him out to the kitchen, flipped him over and set him down on the countertop. He obediently lay back, gripped the edges of the counter with his hands, and lifted his legs for me.

“In this position, I don’t have to support my weight on my knees, so I can f**k as hard as possible. You think you can take it?”

Adriano looked up and smiled. “I don’t know. You’re goddamn huge, but I’d love to try for you.”

The counter was nearly the perfect height. I only needed to bend my knees a tiny bit. My d**k was so hard I found I could push inside Adriano’s hole with no help from my hands. Then I gripped his legs to roll him back farther and began hammering in and out. With each wicked flick of my hips, Adriano writhed and moaned.

After only a minute of being ravaged, his groans became shouts, and he shot come as far as his shoulders and the floor behind him. His orgasm made his insides tighten around my c**k, and I could hold out no longer. I gritted my teeth and let out a huge growl as I thrust in one final time and lost my load deep inside him.

“Please tell me you’re going to want to do this again in an hour,” Adriano said, sweat dripping from his brow.

“I’m not sure I can wait that long,” I said, kissing and stroking his leg.

Before sunrise I f****d him twice more. Adriano again proved himself the most willing and talented bottom I’d ever enjoyed. Instead of checking him off my mental “to do” list, I thought about filling him up again and again, but I also fantasized about kissing him and keeping him safe. He dozed in my arms just long enough for me to learn he spoke Spanish in his sleep. It was adorable. I wondered if there was a way I could keep him in my life longer. I’d had unbelievable s*x before, but until now, I’d never felt smitten, and that’s the only way to describe the sensation.

Instead of lounging around and cuddling, Adriano was true to his word and made us head for the water to catch the “morning glass.” When I asked what that meant, he said the water was smoothest early before the wind kicked up.

There were several other surfers there when we arrived. Adriano knew a couple of girls, and he borrowed an ankle leash for me and temporarily traded one of his boards for one with foam cushioning.

“Last time you almost hit your head,” he said. “This way you’ll be safer, and you won’t get separated from the board.”

“I knew you’d take care of me,” I said, stroking his cheek before I could stop myself. No one noticed, and he smiled and blushed.

It was lucky Adriano got me the safer board, because I must have wiped out a million times before eight A.M. He never laughed and told me I did tons better than he first did.

“Tell me if your arms are sore from paddling and we’ll stop.”

“Nah, I want to keep going,” I said. “Except for the damn seaweed that keeps getting in my face, this is hella fun.”

Finally I slid down a wave on my feet for a full two seconds before I got excited and tumbled over. Under the water I had a sudden thought.

My grad school is in California.

Adriano rode his board over to me and dropped into the water to make sure I was all right.

“That was excellent! You would have held on longer, but that wave totally fell apart on you.”

“Hey, do they have surfing in Santa Cruz?”

“Santa Cruz, California? Major surfing,” he said. “Ten times better than this. Heck, twenty times. Why?”

I looked around for a second to be sure no one was close to where we were treading water. Then I kissed him.

“Let’s talk,” I said.

We went to a pancake house, and once again, Adriano ate like he’d never seen food.

“How do you feel about monogamy?” I said, realizing that came out of the blue.

His face fell. “What? I mean, it sounds nice, but I’m pretty sure I’d suck at it. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. That was a trick question. I’d never want monogamy either.”

He laughed. “Okay then. It’s nice to meet someone who isn’t possessive,” he said, looking away shyly.

I explained my idea, and his eyes lit up.

“Really? You want me to come out there? I bet I could even make money teaching surfing!” He frowned. “But come on, we hardly know each other.”

“You’re right,” I agreed. “But if it doesn’t work or you don’t like it out there or whatever, I’ll make sure you can get back here safe and sound.” He considered this and gave me an uncertain nod.

“You know, I planned on touring around for another month, but what if I just stayed at my hotel in Corpus Christi or someplace closer, so I can spend some time getting to know you?”

He looked at me with surprise and gave me an excited smile. “I’d like that a lot. Then maybe I’ll be up for going out to Santa Cruz.” He took a bite of his pancakes. “You know. Of all the guys who have found me on that damn website, you are the first one whose lines I actually believe.”

“Oh, yeah? Why is that?”

“You’re the only one who made the effort to surf.”

“And now you have all summer to teach me,” I said, grabbing his hand under the table. “I’m yours for as long as you want, my Blue Star Boy.”