Date Posted:11:36:43 01/11/08 Fri Author:Zustara Subject: (s) Mediterranean Blue, Part 3 In reply to:
Zustara
's message, "(s) "Mediterranean Blue" Part 1." on 18:18:46 01/05/08 Sat
Anyone still reading, or am I boring you? :)
Here's part 3 as promised, hope you like it.
III:
We went downstairs to the lobby and followed the tiled path that meandered off to the beach. It would have been impossible to not find the way even had the ocean not been in plain sight of the hotel because of the wide and well-tended man-made path, AND the signs... The ground was scorching hot; even the tiles were so hot it was uncomfortable to walk on them, and the sand was just gruesome to touch with our poor sensitive little feet.
The beach was if possible even more packed than the pool area. There were hotels stacked almost shoulder to shoulder all along the sea, nearly all the way to the 'village'. I keep calling it 'village', because the ACTUAL village we were told is quite some ways inland, and what has grown up at the ocean is just a tourist venus trap meant to milk people out of their money with bars and night clubs and restaurants and stores. And hotels on top of more hotels.
But now I sound just as cynical as my dear mother. In reality I was absolutely loving it. The sky was blue with hardly a single cloud on it and clear all the way to the horizon, the ocean was intensely crystal blue and looked incredibly inviting, and the waves were just the right size, reaching high enough to create a nice surf going but not big enough to become scary!
I squeezed Jon-Jon in close to me with a hand right on his supple waist and he squealed with joy, making me feel the muscles play beneath his soft skin. Then we hurried down towards the water across the hothothothot sand, trying to not touch the ground at all when Jon-Jon's mum shouted for us. We stopped immediately, nuclear fusion-heated grains of sand plowing their way inbetween our toes.
"Heeey! Come back!" We turned and saw her waving a sun lotion bottle in the air. We turned and scuttled back, grimacing from the pain in the soles of our feet. Jon-Jon's parents had commandeered a large parasol and some accompanying beds for them to lie on (though my mum sat in the shade of the parasol in a chair), his dad paying a very suntanned old-ish and very lean Greek guy in his 50s some cash. How he'd seen us coming amongst the hordes of other people already at the beach I don't know, but he must have learned to spot newcomers over the years I guess. He wore a short-sleeved button-up shirt that was unbuttoned most of the way and long khaki shorts with legs that had been folded up a couple turns, and he had sort of leathery wrinkled skin (from being sunparched every day I suppose), and his hair was long and a bit squiggly and black in what almost looked like thin pseudo dreads, but starting to turn grey. He thanked Jon-Jon's dad, and then quickly walked off on gangly legs to nab the next family who'd arrived.
In the shade the sand was delightfully cool, and it was a relief to our skin as well. The sun and the heat was truly harsh, despite the moist ocean air.
"You gotta protect yourselves", she admonished. "You've been in the water for a long time now, you'll get baked if you don't watch out. It's only our first day, you don't have any natural protection yet."
"Yes mum!", Jon-Jon complained. He started doing my back again just like the first time, but quicker now that we weren't alone. The lotion felt uncomfortably cold, probably even colder now that my own body was so warm. Then we switched around and I did his back, rubbing him firmly so his whole body swayed with my motions. He giggled, and yelped when I actually did push my fingers down onto the upper part of his nice plump bum.
"Wouldn't want you to get sunburnt down here now would we?", I whispered in his ear, and I suppose he was busy boning again but I didn't check. He did feel great I must say. Nicer than anything I'd known until then...
Once we were all coated all over on every exposed spot, Jon-Jon's dad ordered us to sit in the shade for a while, to let the lotion 'set', as he called it. Apparantly, you're supposed to do that he'd read somewhere, but when queried about it couldn't remember where.
"That's just bullshit dad", Jon-Jon complained. "I wanna go swimming."
"Jon-Jon!", his mother immediately cut in. "Language, please!"
"Sorry mum."
I settled him down by taking his hand and playing with his fingers as we sat next to each other. This took his mind off things and made him smile at me. I sat and leaned in so close our shoulders and knees touched, and he seemed happier than I'd ever seen him. I didn't want that to ever go away!
Soon they released us out of prison, and we ran kind of like jet fighters with sand tossed up by our feet flying behind us right out into the frothing ocean. "Yyyyaaaaaahhhh!", Jon-Jon screamed excitedly, and then he screamed again but in a much higher-pitched voice as the cool ocean waves struck his hot skin!
The ocean wasn't cold though, it just felt that way at first. Actually it was very pleasant near the surface; it didn't get really cold until you got like fifty meters out from the beach where it got a lot deeper, and there was this weird layer where the temperature dropped hugely all of a sudden.
We swam around a bit and Jon-Jon was rather clingy and wanted to ride on my back a lot, but pretty soon our eyes stung really bad from all the salty seawater we got in 'em because of the waves; we'd need to buy goggles (and a snorkel) like Roger had said. ...Although I was unsure how we'd be able to go snorkling with waves like those.
"Didja see any sharks, huh?", Jon-Jon's dad asked mischievously once we'd returned to basecamp by the parasol. "Huh? Huh?!" He was all grinning like Jon-Jon does whenever he's trying to play a prank on someone. Seems this trait runs in the family.
"Sharks? What sharks?" Jon-Jon asked, a bit worriedly.
"Oh stop that, Holger!", his wife growled and slapped him swiftly upside the head with her paperback novel (a trashy romance story born out of the most clicheed recesses of Barbara Cartland's insipid and greedy little mind). "There aren't any sharks in the Mediterranean Ocean, honey", she then patiently explained to her son.
"Ow!", Holger complained, but didn't say any more as he received a stern lecture in fierce, whispering tones. I made sure Jon-Jon's back was turned and his mind distracted, because otherwise maybe he wouldn't want to go back into the water again, and that would put a damper on our entire vacation trip.
"Is that true, Oliver? That there aren't any sharks here?"
"Yeah, I think it is", I lied and hoped he couldn't detect it in my voice. "I think this water's too warm for them. Anyway, your mother probably knows best."
He smiled gently. "Yeah, actually she usually does. Except when it comes to driving!", he added, raising his voice.
"You want a taste of this too young man, is that it?", Jon-Jon's mum said and waved the book in our direction in a pretend-threatening manner. We all laughed. Jon-Jon's mum's name's Kirsten by the way, she's got a good sense of humour. "I think you two should relax in the shade for a bit now", she ordered. Actually, it didn't sound half bad.
We spread out two big towels on the sand - which meant evicting my mum out into the sun, but she didn't argue. She's rather cool for a mum, most of the time. Then we laid down on them on our stomachs, side by side. Suddenly his fingers were gently grazing my hand just a little, but it was still enough to give me another stiffy when we were relaxing like that. It was quite restful, and for once the temperature was just about right for a normal human being, while we were still wet and drying off. The mild breeze caressed us and slowly took away the moisture, keeping us cool. And then when we were almost dry the heat started to return again.
All the sunlight we'd absorbed, along with the salt etching at our skin, eventually made our bodies start stinging. That's when Jon-Jon's mum told us to go back up to the room and rinse ourselves off and wait there for them. They'd come along too in a little while and then we could all sit on our balcony and chill until it was time to go have dinner. After all, it was just about 4PM, and it had been a long eventful day.
"...And maybe also enjoy a cold one", Jon-Jon's dad had added hopefully. Blech! Not me!
"I'm about done too", my mum said. "Come on guys, I'll keep you company." I felt a little annoyed. We weren't babies, we could find our way back on our own! But then again, I knew my mum didn't enjoy sunbathing much these days so I didn't protest.
It actually WAS really nice to get back inside the hotel. In the cool hallways, I noticed just how powerful the sun had been, and I was hoping I hadn't burnt myself. That would suck, royally!
"Mum, does my back look red?", I asked, trying to peek over my shoulder as we were walking slowly back to our room (an idiotic and futile gesture, of course).
"Honey, I can't see very well here in the corridor. Wait until we get back to our room. I don't think you do though.
Thankfully I didn't. Not right then anyway, who knew about tomorrow! I guess I'd know in the morning. Jon-Jon insisted I should take my shower first. It was my hotel room after all, even though I on my hand insisted it was his just as much as mine. To no avail. By then, both of us had shrunken back to our ordinary size, Jon-Jon peeked at mine of course as I got naked and stepped inside the shower and pulled the curtain. I lathered myself up as best I could to get off the sun lotion and all the sand stuck in it and then turned off the water. I only had to use the cold tap - the 'cold' water pouring through it was so warm that even just a little from the hot tap made the shower uncomfortable to me.
Jon-Jon giggled as he passed me coming out, looking at my willy again. Even soft, it seemed twice his size, easily. Wonder what he'd thought if he'd seen Paul's? He pulled the curtain and the water started spraying. I dried myself off, taking my time, then went back to our bedroom to put on a clean set of underwear. I was just about to put on socks too when I heard the water go off and Jon-Jon called me back in.
"Oliver, can you bring me a towel please", he asked.
"There is a towel there for you already."
"No, I can't find it. I've looked everywhere. PLEASE?!"
I sighed, because my feet would get wet again. "All right...", I said, snatching one of the towels we'd brought with us as I passed it. "THERE'S yours", I said, pointing at the bar on the wall. There were like thee of 'em all lined up, put there ready and waiting by the hotel for all arriving guests.
"Oh. Right!" He blushed and squirmed a little when I saw him, because he was all naked and his little spike was pointing right out at me again. And he looked beautiful, so I stayed and admired him a little. I think that's what he wanted all along actually. I silently wished I could be as pretty as he was as he gingerly lifted his elegant feet to walk small steps to the middle of the bathroom.
"Um, Oliver... Could you maybe...like, do my back...maybe?" He stood with his back turned at me, tilting back his head and shaking it slightly so the wet tentacles of his hair swayed to and fro.
Silently I stepped across the short distance between us, ignoring the wet floor, and started rubbing him down, gently gently. He quivered as I touched him, and then jumped a little when I playfully grabbed both his bumcheeks through the towel and squeezed. He giggled boyishly and turned his head to look and smile at me. A drip of water flying from his hair landed on the tip of my nose.
Again, he just stood there when I was done with his back, so I stood behind him and started massaging his arms with the towel, and then chest and tummy as well. He slowly backed closer and closer to me making me back up until I hit the cupboard with the sink mounted in it, backed up all the way until his little firm buns hit me right in the groin, and then he wiggled himself in. I was so boned by then, and his little muscled melons were like firm puddings squeezing my boxer-covered shaft with a gentle grip. He did something I couldn't quite describe with his hips, pushing his bum out at me as he raised himself up on toes a little, rubbing his cleft against my stiffy and letting it lodge itself deeper inbetween his buns and thighs. I just knew it felt so damn good. My hands rested on his tummy sqieezing him in tight to myself, still holding the towel inbetween us as I felt him quiver and breathe. His hair was still wet and dripping, and our heads rested against each other.
I suppose we stood like that for maybe around five minutes, until our bodies managed to calm down again. He turned around and gave me the sweetest little hug you could imagine.
