Image – author unknown
Eden and the newbie ocean girl.
It was the summer I turned 17. We’d just moved out to the coast. My father was in the tech industry and had been offered a position working on a new media project. The change also suited my mom who’d quit her job at the local paper and wanted to write books for a living. She spent all her time typing away in her den. I hardly ever saw either of them. It was weird. I felt that somehow in moving away they had also left me behind – or somewhere else. I hadn’t left home. Home had just kind of wondered off and left me.
I spent most of my time at the beach. I loved it. It was a whole new world for me. Where we’d come from was cold and landlocked and this seemingly decadent sun, sea and surf culture suited my burgeoning sensual (and sexual) temperament perfectly.
I adapted quickly and in many ways it felt more like home than my previous home had ever done. The ocean had claimed me for its own. I had always felt like a fish out of water but I had never really known that was actually the case until now. I had always loved swimming, but swimming in the sea was something else entirely. Its boundless power and majesty never failed to take my breath away. The way it embraced me, lifted me up and let me float and lose myself in another world. It was very much a sensuous thing for me. I loved the refreshing feeling of it washing over my skin, pressing between my thighs and running all over my breasts and arms. It was like being caressed by dozens of soft and very gentle hands.
I was soon addicted to it and had to be in or near the water as much as possible. Sometimes I didn’t even bother showering first thing in the morning. I just ran down to the surf and bathed there. I thought of the sea as my lover. I still do. Where I live now, I can bathe in the nude and frequently do so. I always think of the first swim of the day as an offering to my lover. The ocean is my inspiration, my protector and my master. I am his servant. I offer him my nakedness and he gives me a new day.
I look back on that time now as a kind lost Eden. I was free. No school. No responsibilities. I could do anything I wanted. It also felt like a time of rebirth. Coming out of my shell. Learning to be me. Becoming. Growing up. All that stuff.
Mind you, I’ve felt like that most of my life.
Image – Valentina, David Cohen de Lara
Landlocked; Goth, Getting my nipples pierced and my so called “lesbian tendencies”
Like I say, I had spent most of my teenage years feeling like a fish out of water in a landlocked desert and at school I had always been kind of clumsy and awkward around people – especially boys for some reason. I became sexually aware at an early age and I think I tended to come on a little too keen to boys my age and it kind of scared them. It was a relatively conservative small town as well and I was into Goth fashion and music at school which kind of freaked out my rather conformist class mates who all thought I was “weird”.
I had my nipples pierced at 16 and didn’t tell anyone. It wasn’t an act of rebellion or anything like that, I just saw a photo somewhere of pierced nipples and was really turned on by it. It hurt like fuck for a day or two after the anesthetic wore off but I kind of liked that too. I discovered there was such a thing as “good” pain. Invigorating pain. Especially where my nipples were concerned.
However I do remember getting a little paranoid about it for a couple of days after I had them done and was convinced everyone could see under my t-shirt and bra – including teachers – and they all somehow knew about it. I think that turned me on too. Anyway, they didn’t, not for a few days anyway. As it turned out I got caught after gym in the showers making out with my best friend Jannie who was curious as hell about it and wanted to see. She said they were a real turn on and couldn’t keep her hands off them. She pushed me up against wall and kept flicking at them. It hurt like fuck but, like I say, I’d just discovered that was a turn on too and I got really horny and steamed up and when I moved in to kiss her she shoved me over onto my back and climbed on top of me; all the while slapping at my tits like a crazy bitch and cackling hysterically. She got really carried away and said she wanted to bite them and I was just going yes yes yes and it all got a bit wild and somehow we managed to knock over a bin or something and so Mrs Carrisford the PE teacher came in and caught us red handed.
I will never ever forget the look on her face.
Anyway the incident was reported to my parents and that’s how they found out, not only about my nipples, but also about my new found so called “lesbian tendencies”.
That was quite a night I can tell you. I think they were pretty shocked at first. Their daughter was growing up way faster than they’d realized. But actually, to be honest, they were really cool about it. I have cool parents. They don’t get all stupid and moralizing. They said life was about trial and error and you have to experience everything to the full to really learn anything. I’m still very close to my Mom. She had me when she was really young and sometimes she’s more like an older sister than an old fashioned M-O-M if you know what I mean.
I think they thought I was just going through some kind of temporary “lesbian phase” anyway. But I wasn’t of course. I liked girls. Still do. Very much so. Nothing temporary there at all. But don’t get me wrong. I like boys too. It’s different. Sex with a girl is one thing. With a guy it’s another. Two different paths to the same ecstasy. Of course there are many roads aren’t there? But maybe we’ll get into all that later.
Anyway, suffice to say, in sex, like in everything else, I like variety. So don’t be sticking no labels on me, OK?
My mother was pissed of course but not because of the piercings so much as because I hadn’t told her. I think she was offended that I hadn’t been able to. Or hadn’t wanted to. But hey they’re my nipples and I just wanted to beautify them a little. I really loved looking at them in the mirror and touching and playing with them and fantasizing about having them sucked and pulled on. The effect they’d had on Jannie was exactly the effect I wanted them to have on people and I was absolutely thrilled.
Image – author unknown
It was also perhaps the first sign of some of my deeper, darker sexual urges.
Anyway, the word got out in school that I was a lesbian and so I got called names and went thru the usual shit. High school teens can be so narrow-minded. But I didn’t care. Narrow minded is empty minded as far as I’m concerned. But Jannie, whose parents weren’t quite so liberal as mine, had been grounded and banned from seeing me, which was a real drag.
So it was with some relief that I’d left all that behind and come out here at the beginning of the summer. Out here. Yes. Under the glorious ever-present all seeing sun and in the breathtaking presence of the ocean – easily the most beautiful thing there is on this planet. Out here I thought I could invent myself. I could be me.
And I had the whole summer to do it. No classes, no homework and no hang-ups till September and I was determined to just chill and get to know the scene and make friends.
Image – Paddy Johnston
Life is a Beach
Of course the big difference here was the beach culture. Everyone hung out on or near the beach. And everyone was wearing as little as possible too. It was hot here. In all senses. Even at night. Especially at night. The air was charged. A warm breeze would often blow up from the south and gave the nights a weird phantasmagorical quality. Seemingly eternal nights where the heat hung so heavy it stripped us of not only clothing but also any desire for restraint, inevitably just adding fuel to our youthful zeal for excess and abandon.
At night nothing seemed real. You could do anything. It didn’t matter. In the morning it would all just seem like a dream.
So anyway, I had to get used to being almost naked nearly all the time. Actually I didn’t have to get used to it all. That was one of the things I loved most. Few clothes just makes life that much easier. At most all I needed was sunglasses, sandals, shorts (usually tight cut-off Levis), a bikini top and a bag for my stuff and I was ready to go. Actually I later discovered that I could easily, and quite happily, dispense with all of the above minus the sunglasses which, along with my phone of course, was really the only essential item.
I didn’t have any hang-ups about it either. I’m no great looker and I need to watch what I eat or I inflate like a dinghy but thank God I looked OK in a bikini. Especially at 17. Everything was where it needed be and there was even a little more up top than most girls had for my age. Even excluding the nipple rings.
But there was an awful lot of competition here. The local kids had perfectly sculpted tanned bodies and everyone – girls and boys – seemed to work out. I guess when you spend so much time with so few clothes on skin and muscle tone become important because that’s how you present yourself to the world. If you are naked that’s the way you “dress” your body. People think it’s narcissistic. Maybe it is. But that’s cool. We all like to look good don’t we? And I want to look good if I’m gonna be almost naked and seen like that most of the time. Especially by cute guys who are tanned, athletic and gorgeous looking and seem to go everywhere shirtless on a skateboard.
Image – Hugh Holland, Sidewalk Surfer, Huntington Beach
Skateboarding. Yeah there are skateboards everywhere but it‘s the surfers who really fascinate me. Both the boys and the girls. The skate kids are cool but the surfers have a grace and a sense of cool all of their own. It was as if spending so much time out in the empty ocean riding the waves gives them some kind of esoteric knowledge. A sense of who they are and what it all means. A purpose in life. At least that’s what it looked like to me.
And not only that, those guys with the boards and the floppy bleached blond hair were the sexiest thing this 17-year-old had ever seen.
Image – Author unknown
So, right, now we are on that particular subject and seeing that I’ve given up all the background info we need, let’s cut to the real story. One afternoon in July I’m out on the beach sunbathing and checking out the scene and I realize I’ve forgotten to bring any water. There’s a stall by the road and I get up and go over for a bottle. There were two guys there. Shorts. No shirts. Tanned. Blond. Sexy as fuck. Obvious surfers. They were just chatting to the vendor, who they seemed to know pretty well, so I just waited in line.
I couldn’t help but look at the guy’s back. He had long sun bleached blond hair which fell down to his broad powerful shoulders. He had a comparatively skinny waist and a very pert ass, which is always a turn-on, and I couldn’t help notice the fine downy hair on his back just above his ass had even been bleached by the sun. I was standing pretty close, I could almost smell him. I sensed the sea on him. The saltiness. Fresh, clean, enormous, untamed and unpredictable. I sensed danger too. Yes, the ocean, I could sense it like a force within him. It was his life. All of a sudden I was imagining him as a kind of golden naked sea god riding the waves with his arms outstretched for balance.
I guess I’d been staring a little too obviously and perhaps was been standing a little too close for comfort as all of a sudden the other guy coughed and said something I didn’t catch. Anyway the subject of my lusty fantasizing abruptly and quite unexpectedly turned around and looked straight at me.
His eyes. Wow. Stunning. Deep and very blue. He was a little taller than me with a squarish set jaw and quite full luscious looking lips. His glorious mop of yellow hair fell over his forehead and into his eyes. He was really gorgeous.
And I just went completely blank.
For a moment we just gawked at each other.
“Do I know you?”
Yes, the grunt was me. I had just met the most beautiful boy on the whole beach and all I could do was grunt. My cerebral cortex had been zapped into complete mush by a pair of dazzling eyes and a cute ass.
“I… no… I don’t think so… ”
I just tailed off into silence. It was pathetic. I couldn’t take my eyes off his chest. His nipples were dark, large, succulent looking…
“Oh… Yeah… I… ah… Just the sun. I’m not used to it. I’m from the north.”
I have no idea why I said that.
“I’m thirsty,” I said, apropos of nothing, “I didn’t have any water…”
“There’s no water up north and you came all this way?”
His friend laughed.
“No… I mean…”
Goddamit. My cheeks flushed red. I felt like a complete idiot.
“Can I just get a bottle of water?
He grinned and stepped aside.
The two of them then said goodbye to the vendor, who was apparently called Stan, and wondered off to go somewhere with their boards. I asked Stan for the coldest iciest bottle of water he had and I ripped the top off and gulped it down.
“Gimme another, Stan.”
I placed it to my forehead and just stood there for a moment.
Stan just smiled and stared off to the distance like he’d seen it all before.
I sighed. Suddenly I felt quite depressed. I walked back to where I’d left my towel and decided to go for a swim. I needed the ocean’s cooling embrace.
Image – Lucien Clergue
So anyway, fast forward a couple of days. One evening I’m eating a burger at the beach stall and admiring the view of the sun gorgeously going down over the ocean when out of nowhere he comes and stands right in front of me.
I nodded. My mouth was full of burger.
He was shirtless again. God, what a physique. A smooth broad chest. His nipples, large for a guy and hard looking. Hard buttons set atop some really fine abs…
Suddenly I felt breathless and my mouth went very dry. Once more I couldn’t think of anything to say. All I could do was try and give him my best girlish smile, whilst still chomping away on a piece of burger meat like some idiot bovine.
He looked at the burger and grinned. Without a word, and with me just passively letting him do it like it was the most normal thing in the world, he calmly took the burger right out of my hand and took an enormous bite out of it.
“Mmm”, he nodded his approval. Then, still looking directly at me as if challenging me, he took another bite. Then another. His eyes remaining fixed right on me. Waiting for me to do or say something. But for some reason I didn’t. I felt kind of paralyzed, like a stunned chicken, but at the same time enormously aroused. When he’d finished he licked his fingers one by one in a rather lascivious manner and, still grinning a kind of silly boyish grin, which was actually rather cute, he handed the empty wrapper back to me. Then after looking directly at my tits – I was just wearing a skimpy bikini top – he winked at me, smiled, and then, without saying anything at all – not even a thank you – he just walked off.
I was still stunned. But I was grinning. He’d remembered me. He liked me. He’d been putting me on and I watched him saunter off towards the beach front. There was a spring in his step. His whole body swayed as he moved and there was a confident grace in his movements that was similar to a dancer’s.
He had the cocky look of a guy who has the entire world at his command. If he felt hungry all he had to do was walk up to the nearest pretty girl and she would provide him with whatever he needed.
I should have been outraged.
But I wasn’t. I was massively attracted. And very aroused.
I’d felt it the moment I stood behind him at the drinks stand. It was a blast. Like a tidal wave of desire. It was like nothing else I’d felt before. And he knew it. He’d seen it in me. I was sure he had. That was what all that was about just now. A test. He was putting me on but I hadn’t reacted or called him out. I’d stayed cool. If it was a test somehow I think I’d passed.
I watched him crossing the road dodging through the cars. I couldn’t take my eyes off him now. That mop of hair blowing freely over those square bronzed shoulders and that perfect ass… oh that perfect sweet ass…
I knew now that one way or another, and for better or worse, I was gonna be seeing a lot more of that ass.
I looked out toward the sea. The waves were rolling in. Massive. Enormous, incredibly powerful. They roared and bellowed like dangerous wild beasts. And perched on top of them were precariously placed little dots – minute, seemingly insignificant. They were moving slowly, like insects, but I saw them as something else entirely. To me they were fantastic naked young warriors riding dangerous monsters, their arms outstretched, as if in flight, triumphant.
It was breathtaking.
I sat back and smiled.
The ocean had taught me my first lesson.
Sometimes, in order to receive your due, you just have to learn how to wait.
Image – author unknown
Author’s note – 2016 was a weird year which I found quite hard going at times. I guess that’s true for many of us. Anyway, to try and work myself out of my depression, with this post I just wanted to write about a more optimistic time when everything was fresh and new and innocent. Funnily enough, it is also one of the fastest and easiest posts I’ve ever written. It kind of just wrote itself.
Image – “Sonya” by Michael Dweck