Page 8 of Waiting for a Prince
If you don’t like living here, the ferry’s thattaway…
Mark headed for the far end of the beach where the crumbling red cliffs gave way to white chalk cliffs, a leisurely twenty-minute stroll from the car park. It was an unofficial nudist beach and Mark’s guilty little secret. Even in the height of summer, few tourists ventured this far along the shore, preferring to stay closer to the car park with its cute, environmentally friendly sanitation block, complete with wind turbine to generate its required electricity, and the café with its outdoor seating, hot and cold food, and beach supplies. At thishour, there was no one this far along, which suited Mark just fine.
Scratch that last thought.
Mark spotted a solitary figure sitting on the rocks at the base of the cliffs. From this distance he could see it was a guy, sporting long beach shorts and a hoodie. Mark kept his eyes on him as he drew closer. All he could discern at this point was that the guy had long, tanned legs.Yum. Mark was a sucker for tall guys. He found himself thinking about the hunk in the salon on Saturday. What was his name? Yeah, Sam. Now that had been one hot as fuck guy.
Too bad he didn’t like dick.
Then a thought occurred to him.You don’t know that for sure.
He dismissed the idea.Okay, I’m not remotely drop-dead gorgeous, but I’ve been told I’m cute, and Sam never even took a second glance.
As he got closer, the seated figure glanced briefly in Mark’s direction and then stared out to sea once more. Mark caught his breath.
No. Fucking. Way.
It was Mr Gorgeous himself.
For s second or two, Mark was at a loss.Should I acknowledge him? Say something?
And what the hell was Sam doing sitting alone on Yaverland beach at this hour of the morning?
Mark was not a gregarious kind of guy. He kept to himself at work, save for the odd chat with Sonia when the opportunity presented itself. There was a reason his cheeks flamed bright red as often as they did. Mark was very shy. And as for his social life, well, that was…. crap, basically.
He kept his eyes fixed on the white cliffs up ahead, making up his mind not to let on to Sam. He felt guilty about it,though. He knew how much he liked it when he was walking around the island and fellow walkers, complete strangers to him, would greet him with a brisk nod and cheery hello. Mark always responded with a smile and a similar greeting. He’d never do that himself: the most he’d do was greet everyone with a polite smile. And he hated it when some sullen bastard would stare back coldly at him. Civility didn’t cost anything, did it?
As he drew nearer, Mark took a good look at Sam. He was sitting on a towel, knees bent, leaning back on his hands and looking out to sea. The light early morning breeze played with his hair. What struck Mark most was Sam’s expression. Despite the loveliness of his surroundings, he looked sad.
Mark got to within a few feet before Sam became aware of him.
He gave a brief nod toward Mark. “Morning.”
Mark gave Sam a nod and a smile, then continued on his way.Does he recognize me? He waited for Sam to say something else as he passed by, but there was silence. Mark pushed out a breath and forged ahead up the beach. He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of talking to Sam made him nervous. He deliberately kept his eyes forward, unwilling to draw attention to himself. And he was definitelynotthinking about that gorgeous face he’d just left behind.
Face?Everythingabout Sam ticked Mark’s boxes. The guy was his fantasy brought to life. Yet a part of him wondered what on earth would make the guy so sad in the midst of such natural beauty.
The nudist beach was empty, so Mark had his pick of where to lay his towel. There were flat sandy areas up on the ledge at the base of the cliff, or he could choose to lie in one of the pebbled dunes below the shelf which marked high tide. After a second or two of deliberation, he chose a wide sandy spot, sheltered from the breeze and a good vantage point from whichto spot any visitors who approached. Mark remembered all too clearly the time when he’d been seriously freaked out by a guy who strolled casually up the beach, gawking first at Mark, and then at a woman who’d been there on her own. He’d watched as Creepy Guy walked up to the huge rocks at the end of the beach, did a 180 degree turn and walked back, pausing to gawk once again. When he did yetanotherturn, Mark could tell that the woman was getting seriously pissed off by the unwelcome attention. He’d been about to say something when she had got up and had words with Creepy Guy herself, sending him off with a flea in his ear. Mark had given her the thumbs up and she’d grinned at him.
Mark set his rucksack down on the sand and took out his large beach towel. He spread it out, first pulling it flat and then weighting it down with a few of the larger pebbles. Next came a bottle of water and his sunscreen, and finally, his Kindle. With one last look around, Mark stripped off his T-shirt and shorts and folded them into a small bundle on which to rest his head. He stretched his arms up into the air, loving the feel of the sun on his nude body. He thought briefly about going for a dip in the sea, but on reflection decided he’d wait until it had had a chance to warm up a little.
He knelt on the towel and applied the sunscreen liberally, making sure it covered as much skin as he could reach, before spreading himself out on his back, legs parted slightly.God, that feels good. He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the incoming waves as they crashed over the pebbles. Hearing it made Mark yearn once more to have a home right on a beach. His idea of heaven would be to open the windows of his house and be able to hear the sea. It was a sound he never grew tired of hearing. The crashing waves provided an almost hypnotic soundtrack, lulling him into an extremely relaxed state where it was easy to slip in and out of a doze.
When he opened his eyes and glanced at his watch, Mark realized he’d been asleep in the sun for an hour. Time to turn over. He rolled onto his belly, wriggling contentedly as he got comfortable, and reached for his Kindle. He searched for the book he’d been reading on Sunday night before going to sleep. It was a great story, and he soon became lost in the tale once more.
And then the main characters began fucking.
God, the sex was hot. Mark found himself humping the towel as he read the graphic scene. The way things were going, this was as close as Mark was going to get to experiencing hot sex. Not that he was a virgin—he’d lost his virginity at the age of seventeen—but opportunities for hooking up were few and far between on the island. The boy who’d taken his virginity hadn’t even been gay. He’d been the eager recipient of a blowjob who Mark had finally talked into fucking him in Mark’s bed when his mother had gone out one cold winter’s afternoon.
As far as first times went, Mark’s had been painful and thankfully over fairly quickly. Once was enough: Mark resolved never to bottom again. There was no way, however, that his reluctant fuckbuddy would take a cock up his arse, so that was that. Mark had to content himself with brief encounters in the bathrooms of gay bars, furtive blowjobs and lightning quick fucks in grubby little toilet stalls. And never on the island, always on the mainland. It was far from ideal, but it was the best he could do. It didn’t stop him from thinking every time, as he shot his load into yet another willing hole, that there had to be something better for him than this.
He slipped his hand under his body and gave his hardened cock a quick tug. Then it was back to the story. His hips rocked as he slid his dick against the towel, becoming immersed in the scene unfolding on his Kindle. Mark’s imagination took over. Sam lay spread out beneath him, face down, arse tilted, and he was sliding into Sam’s tight virgin hole, Sam mewling andmoaning as Mark pushed his fat dick into him until he was balls deep.Oh yeah, baby, ride my cock…
The sound of feet on pebbles froze him. A throat cleared.
Mark twisted to look over his shoulder, squinting into the sun. A tall figure was standing a few feet away just below the pebbled shelf, the sun back-lighting him so brilliantly that Mark couldn’t make out his features, in spite of his sunglasses. Without thinking he scrambled to stand up. His dick jutted out, twitching with a life of its own, and Mark groaned inwardly.
Well, this is fucking embarrassing.
