The Beast Return For More
The following morning, something had changed within me. The sun felt warmer, the air crisper. I woke early, my body feeling alive and my mind clearer than in years. I padded into the garden, the dew kissing my bare feet, and felt the urge to remove my shirt. My scarred torso was exposed to the elements, declaring my newfound freedom.
My parents, sipping their coffee at the patio table, glanced up in surprise. They had never seen me like this before, without the shield of fabric hiding my imperfections. My mother's hand flew to her mouth, while my father's eyes widened. "Steven, what on earth are you doing?" my mother gasped.
"Just enjoying the sun," I replied, feeling a blush creep up my neck. "It's not so bad, is it?"
They exchanged a look, one filled with a mix of shock and something akin to hope. "You look... different," my father said finally.
"I feel different," I said.
They both looked away, but not before I caught the glimmer of pride in their eyes.
"What happened to you, son?" my father asked, his voice gruff.
I took a deep breath, the salty breeze filling my lungs. "I met someone," I said. "Someone who taught me that my body isn't a prison."
My mother's hand tightened around her coffee mug. "Is he a doctor?"
I chuckled. "No, Mom," I said. "He's a fisherman, well, his hobby is fishing, but he's a... a therapist of a different kind."
They looked at each other again, their expressions filled with curiosity. "Is he helping you?" my mother asked, her voice tentative.
"More than you know, but we accidentally met yesterday, in the cove," I replied.
The conversation lulled, the only sound the rustling of leaves in the light wind. The garden had always been a place of solace for me, but now it felt like a sanctuary. I could feel the sun's warmth on my scarred skin, and it was as if the very earth was embracing me, whispering that I was not alone.
"Would you like to tell us about him?" my father ventured after a moment of silence.
I nodded, feeling the weight of their concern. "His name is Alex," I said. "And he helped me face my fears."
My parents listened, their expressions a mix of scepticism and hope. "He's a sex therapist," I added, watching their faces carefully.
Their eyes widened, but they remained silent, allowing me to continue. "I went to the cove yesterday for some quiet time, and he was fishing there and...I got talking," I said. "And he helped me see that my body isn't something to be afraid of."
"How?" my mother asked, her voice trembling.
"Well, it was hot, and I explained that I have a problem with showing off my body, but there was something about him that gave me the confidence to take my shirt off and to sit in the sun while we talked. He even showed me how to cast a fishing line as he held my hips," I said, the memory of Alex's gentle caresses sending a shiver down my spine. "He touched my scars, and it didn't hurt. It was... it was okay."
My mother's eyes filled with tears, and she reached out to me, her hand hovering over my arm, the scars visible for the whole world to see. "Oh, Steven," she whispered.
My father cleared his throat, his gaze shifting to the horizon. "Well," he said gruffly, "that's... good. Really good."
The awkward silence that followed was filled with the sound of the ocean in the distance. It was the first time in my life that I had talked about my fears with my parents, and their reaction was more than I had ever hoped for. They didn't treat me with pity, but with a quiet understanding that spoke volumes.
"I want to see Alex again," I said finally, breaking the silence. "He said we could go fishing."
My mother nodded, wiping at her eyes. "We'll get you some lunch," she said, her voice thick. "You two go and enjoy your day. Be careful, though, I know you are nineteen and still not experienced with the outside world, and sometimes, folks might not be who they say they are."
"I get that, Mum and don't worry. Alex is much older than me and he's nice and listens, and I trust him."
As my parents disappeared into the house, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. For the first time in years, I felt like I could breathe, like I could live. I knew that facing my fears would not be easy, but with Alex by my side, the future seemed a little less daunting.
Armed with a packed lunch, I venture down to the cove carrying my shirt, allowing the world to see me even though no one is about. I felt strangely confident for the first time as I spotted Alex in the same place, on the rocks, casting his line into the sea. Dressed as he was yesterday, bare-chested, in cargo shorts and sandals.
"Hi Alex, how's it going?
"Going, but not very well," he responded. "No shirt today?" Alex asked.
"Nope, not today," as I showed him the shirt I was carrying.
I climbed up onto the rock and joined him, the sun kissing our skin. Alex didn't mention the previous afternoon's intimacy. Instead, we talked about fish, about the sea, about life. His eyes held a gentle warmth that seemed to soothe the last of my nerves.
"You know," he said, as he baited the hook, "fishing isn't just about catching something. It's about patience, about letting go of what you can't control."
I nodded, watching as he cast the line into the water, his body moving with an easy grace that made me feel clumsy in comparison. "I think I'm starting to get that," I said.
"Good," Alex said with a smile. "Because sometimes, the best catches come when you least expect them."
The days grew into a week, and our visits to the cove became a ritual. Each time, I would stand with him wearing only my tighty whities, allowing the sun and the sea to kiss my scars. Alex was always there, his touch a balm to my fears, his voice a guiding force, but he never attempted to touch me like he had the first time we met, and I was cool about that, although I wouldn't have rejected his touch if he had made a move.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues, Alex turned to me, his eyes searching my face. "Steve," he said, his voice serious. "You're ready."
"Ready for what?" I asked.
"Fishing full time," Alex replied as he handed me a rod, the line ready to cast. "Catch your fish," he said. "And when you do, let it go. It's time for you to swim free."
I took the rod, my heart pounding. As I waited for the bite, I felt the warmth of Alex's hand on my back, his thumb tracing small circles as he moved his finger down to rest between the waistband of my tighty whities and the small of my back. The tension grew between us as I also felt the anticipation of catching something grow, and when the line finally jerked, I knew that I was ready to bring in my first catch.
I reeled in the fish with a fierce determination, feeling the power of the sea beneath me, the strength of Alex beside me. When the fish finally emerged, a beautiful silver Tarpon, I felt a sense of accomplishment like never before as I scooped it up in the net.
Alex took the net, his eyes never leaving mine. "Go on," he urged. "Let it go. Let it be free, like you."
With trembling hands, I held the fish for a moment, feeling its life pulse against my skin. Then, with a whisper of a smile, I released it, watching as it disappeared into the depths of the sea. Alex took my hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "You're not alone in this," he said. "We're all a little broken, a little scarred. But that's what makes us beautiful."
In that moment, Alex held my hips but then his hands slipped slightly round to the front of my tighty whities, as we watched the sea and then slowly, he sat down, pulling me with him until we sat on the rock, me between his legs again as my back rested on his chest while the waves crashing around us.
I knew that he was right. I was ready to face the world, ready to embrace the man I was meant to be and with Alex by my side, anything was possible, including love and for the first time, I felt I was ready to give myself to Alex, if he wanted me.
"I know," I said, turning my head towards him. "But do you think I'm beautiful?" I asked.
"I think you are the most beautiful person," Alex responded as his hands moved towards the fly hole of my tighty whities. I sat there, holding my breath as his fingers slipped under the cotton fabric, sending a thrill through me.
I gasped as his fingers found my cock, which was already hard from the excitement I was feeling. He began to stroke me gently, his other hand resting on my scar, his thumb circling the sensitive skin. The juxtaposition of his gentle touch on my scar and the more intimate touch on my cock was overwhelming, and I felt a rush of emotion that was both terrifying and exhilarating.
"Does it scare you?" I asked, my voice trembling.
Alex leaned in; his breath hot against my ear. "No, Steve," he murmured. "It's part of you, and all of you is beautiful."
I felt a tear slip down my cheek as he continued to stroke me, his hand firm and sure. The waves crashed around us, the world seeming to melt away until all that remained was the sound of our breathing and the feel of his skin against mine. His other hand began to trace patterns on my stomach, moving closer to my cock with every pass.
"You're so hard," Alex said, his voice a low growl. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No," I breathed. "Don't stop."
His hand moved away from my cock, and for a moment I panicked, thinking he had changed his mind. But then I felt his fingers at the waistband of my tighty whities, tugging them down until my cock sprang free. The cool sea breeze kissed my skin, and I felt a strange sense of freedom that was both exhilarating and terrifying as Alex told me to lie down.
The rock was warm and rough beneath me as I lay back, the sun setting behind us casting a soft glow over the cove. Alex shifted his position, moving closer, his body hovering over mine as he bent down, his mouth now within inches of my most intimate parts. I watched him, my heart racing, as his hand reached out to gently stroke my cock, his fingers moving with a confidence that I hadn't felt from anyone before.
As his touch grew more insistent, his mouth finally met my skin, his warm breath sending shockwaves through me. His lips parted, and his tongue touched the tip of my cock, tentative at first, as if asking for permission. I couldn't help but moan, the sensation like nothing I had ever felt before. It was as if all my fears were melting away, dissolving into the sea as he took me into his mouth, his tongue dancing over my sensitive flesh.
Alex's mouth moved with a gentle rhythm, his hand continuing to stroke me as he kissed and licked every inch of me, paying special attention to the areas that made me gasp. The saltiness of the air mingled with the taste of him, and I felt my body respond, my cock growing harder with every touch. It was a dance of fear and pleasure, a battle that I had never wanted to win so badly as I lost myself in the sensation of his mouth on me.
And then, without warning, it was too much. My body tensed, and I came with a cry, my hips bucking upwards as I filled his mouth with my release. Alex didn't pull away, instead swallowing every drop, his eyes never leaving mine. The world had stopped spinning, and all that remained was the sound of my racing heart and the gentle lapping of the waves.
When I finally opened my eyes, Alex was smiling at me, his expression one of pure satisfaction. "You're not so scary after all, are you?" he murmured, his voice a gentle caress against my skin.
I shook my head, unable to form words as he pulled my tighty whities back up and helped me to sit. The warmth of his body was still imprinted on my back, his breath still hot against my neck as he whispered, "You're going to be okay, Steve. You're more than okay."
As the night descended, we sat there, our legs dangling over the edge of the rock, sharing the quiet moments that only those who have faced their fears together can understand. The stars began to appear, twinkling in the sky like the promise of a future filled with joy and love. And in that moment, with Alex beside me, I knew that anything was possible.
The following week was a whirlwind of emotions. Each day, we would meet at the cove, our friendship growing stronger with every shared glance, every gentle touch. The fishing was almost secondary, a pretence for the intimacy that grew between us. Alex never pushed, but his patience was a balm to my soul, allowing me to explore my feelings and my body at my own pace.
One evening, as the last light of day disappeared, Alex turned to me. "Steve," he said, his voice low and serious. "There's something I need to tell you."
I looked into his eyes, feeling my heart race with anticipation. "What is it?"
He took a deep breath, his hand reaching out to cup my cheek. "I want to make love to you," he whispered.
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. I felt a mix of joy and terror, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst from my chest. "I would like that," I managed to reply.
Alex leaned in, his lips brushing against mine in a kiss that was as gentle as the ocean breeze. It was a declaration of something more than friendship, a promise that washed away the last remnants of my fear.
"Let's go home," he said, his voice filled with a warmth that seemed to chase away the shadows.
We gathered our things, the silence between us speaking louder than words. The walk to his home felt different, charged with a new kind of energy that hummed just beneath the surface. He was bare-chested, and I was just in my tighty whities, carrying my shirt and shorts, eager and erect in anticipation of being taken. When we reached the house, Alex took my hand, leading me upstairs to his room.
For the first time, we were truly alone together, as we stood in the doorway with Alex behind me as he asked, "Are you ready to make love?"
"I am," was all I could say and in response, Alex slipped his hands into my tighty whities and pushed them down. I remained where I stood as his hands played with my nipples, and then his hands slipped down my torso to cup my balls. I turned around and kissed him, my hands unbuttoning his shorts, allowing them to drop to his ankles.
I could see his cock pushing the cotton of his boxer briefs and I couldn't wait and I inserted my hands to push them down to reach his shorts. He was ready with precum leaking from the tip of his uncircumcised cock as he stepped out of the clothes lying at his ankles and he picked me up and carried me to his bed.
"Alex, I have never been with a man before, and I'm feeling scared."
Alex looked into my eyes with a gentle smile, "Don't worry, I'll take it slow and be very careful," he assured me, his voice as soothing as the waves outside. He laid me on the bed, the softness of the sheets a stark contrast to the rocky shore we had just left behind. He hovered over me, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and understanding that made my fears melt away.
His hands roamed my body, tracing every scar with a tenderness that brought tears to my eyes. He kissed me deeply, his tongue exploring my mouth as if he were memorising every part of me. His touch grew more urgent as his hand wrapped around my cock, stroking it with a firmness that made me moan into his mouth.
As he kissed down my body, his mouth left a trail of fire along my skin. Each kiss felt like a promise, a vow that he would cherish me, brokenness and all. When he reached my cock, he took it into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the head as his hand worked the shaft. His touch was a symphony, every stroke a crescendo that sent shockwaves of pleasure through my body.
Alex's hands continued to explore my body, one hand playing with my nipples while the other moved down to cup my balls, rolling them gently in his palm. I moaned, arching my back as he took me deeper into his mouth, his throat tightening around me. His eyes never left mine, the connection between us stronger than any I had ever felt.
As the pleasure built, Alex slid a finger into my ass, the sensation sending me over the edge. I came with a shout, my body convulsing as he swallowed my release. He kissed up my body, his lips landing gently on mine as he whispered, "You are so beautiful, Steve."
The words were a balm to my soul, healing wounds I didn't know I had. He pulled back, his eyes searching my face for any sign of discomfort or fear. "Are you okay?"
I nodded, unable to speak, my body still trembling from the intensity of the experience. Alex leaned in, his kiss gentle and reassuring as he whispered, "Now, it's my turn."
He rolled me onto my stomach, his hands spreading my cheeks, the cool air of the room making me shiver. I felt his tongue touch my entrance, the sensation making me gasp. He was so gentle, so tender, as if he knew that every touch could either heal or hurt.
Alex's tongue danced around my hole, teasing and probing, until I was begging for more. He added a finger, sliding it in with an almost painful slowness. He took his time, stretching me gently, making sure I was ready. The anticipation was agonising, but every stroke of his tongue and every inch of his finger was pure bliss.
Finally, Alex pulled away, his cock nudging against me. "Ready?" he asked.
"Yes," I whispered, my voice shaking with excitement and fear as he grabbed the lube from the bedside table. He pushed in, his lubricated cock allowing him to stretch me wide, filling me in a way I had never been filled before. It hurt, my body not used to such an invasion, but the pain subsided as he penetrated further, only to be replaced by an overwhelming sense of fullness, of belonging.
He moved slowly, giving my body time to adjust to his size. With every thrust, he whispered sweet nothings in my ear, telling me how much he wanted me, how much he cared. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before, and I knew that my life had been forever changed by this man and his gentle touch.
As we moved together, the sound of our breathing mingling with the distant crash of waves, I felt a warmth spread through me, a warmth that had nothing to do with the fear I had carried for so long. It was love, pure and simple, and it washed over me like the tide, erasing the last traces of doubt and leaving in its wake a feeling of complete and utter belonging.
Alex's strokes grew deeper, his breathing harsher, and I knew he was close. With one final push, he came inside me, his warmth filling me up, his body shaking with the force of his release. He collapsed on top of me, his heart pounding in time with mine as we lay there, the waves of our pleasure slowly receding.
It was in that moment, with Alex's cock buried deep within me, that I realised the true meaning of his words. He had been careful, so much more than I could have ever imagined. Every touch, every kiss, every stroke had been calculated to push my boundaries but never to cross them without my consent. He had taken his time, allowing me to adjust to the sensation of having him inside me, his patience a testament to his kindness and understanding.
He began to move again, his hips rocking gently against mine as his arms wrapped around my waist. Each movement sent a new wave of pleasure crashing through me, a wave that grew stronger with every breath we shared. His eyes never left mine, searching for any sign of discomfort, any hint that I was not ready for this.
But I was. I was more than ready. With Alex, I felt safe, cherished, and desired. I felt like I was finally home.
The bed creaked softly beneath us as our bodies moved in harmony, the rhythm of our lovemaking matching the steady beat of the ocean outside. His strokes grew deeper, more urgent, and I knew that he was close. I could feel the tension building in his muscles, the tightness of his grip on my hips as he pushed himself closer to the edge.
And when he finally came, it was with a shout that echoed through the room, his warmth filling me. He collapsed on top of me, his heart racing against my back as we both struggled to catch our breath. We lay there for what felt like an eternity, our bodies entwined, the sound of the waves outside lulling us into a gentle peace.
When Alex finally pulled out, he rolled over, taking me with him so that I lay cradled in his arms. He kissed my forehead, his breath warm against my skin as he whispered, "You're amazing, Steve."
I couldn't help but smile, the fear and doubt that had once defined me now just a distant memory. With Alex, I had faced my fears and come out the other side, stronger and more beautiful than I had ever been. And as we lay there, the gentle caress of his hand on my scars a constant reminder of the journey we had taken together, I knew that I had found someone who saw me not as broken, but as whole as I drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, I woke with a start, realising I hadn't been home and worried that my parents would be worried, wondering where I was. I got dressed in a hurry and tiptoed out of the house and walked with an urgency towards my home, savouring the delights of the beach in the early morning light.
As I walked through the back gate that led from the beach, my heart skipped a beat as I saw my parents sitting on the patio, the early morning light casting a warm glow on their faces. I had been gone longer than I intended, lost in the tumultuous sea of emotions and pleasure that was Alex. I approached them tentatively, my cheeks flushed and my heart racing with a mix of fear and excitement.
"Morning, Steve," my dad said, his eyes scanning me as if looking for signs of trouble. "You're up early."
"Yeah," I mumbled, trying to appear nonchalant. "Couldn't sleep."
My mother studied me, her gaze lingering on my neck where Alex's stubble had left faint marks. "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, I just went for a walk," I said, hoping my voice didn't betray the truth. But the way she looked at me, I knew she wasn't convinced, but I walked past them and into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee, only then did I disappear upstairs to have a well-earned shower.
Having showered, I resumed my normal activities around the house, surfing the web, completing my chores and enjoying the sunshine, sunbathing in my tighty whities, much to the surprise of my parents. They were not used to me being so free with my body and not covering up. I seem to remember they were smiling at the sight of the new me.
That evening, I walked to the beach as the sun set over the cove, finding Alex on the usual rock. "Hi Alex," I said as I sat down next to him. Alex took my hand in his, his eyes shining with a light that I had never seen before. "Steve," he said, his voice serious. "I need to tell you something."
My heart skipped a beat, but I knew that whatever he had to say, I was ready to face it with him by my side. "What is it?" I asked, my voice steady.
He took a deep breath, his thumb tracing the line of my palm. "I think I'm falling in love with you, but I have to tell you something else that might change things."
I stared at him, my heart racing. "What is it?"
Alex's eyes searched mine. "Your parents... they set this up."
The words hung in the air like a lead weight. "What do you mean, Alex?"
"They knew your gymnophobia was holding you back and having tried so many things to help you, they hoped that by meeting me, I could help you overcome it. They didn't expect... this," he said, gesturing between us. "They didn't intend for me to fall for you, Steve."
I felt a twist of betrayal in my stomach, the warmth of our connection suddenly tainted by the cold realisation that our meeting had been orchestrated. "Why?" I managed to whisper.
"They wanted you to face your fears, to find someone who could accept and love you for who you are," Alex said, his voice tight with emotion. "They never thought it would be love, even though they knew you were gay."
The revelation was a shock, but as I sat there, the anger began to recede. I knew what it was like to live with fear, to hide behind layers of clothing and avoid the world. And here was Alex, someone who had seen me at my most vulnerable and still looked at me with desire and compassion.
"It doesn't matter?" I declared, looking up at him.
The words hung in the air, as fragile as a soap bubble, threatening to burst with the slightest gust of wind. But instead of popping, they grew stronger, filling the space between us with a warmth that seemed to light up the very air.
I looked into his eyes, feeling the truth of his words resonate deep within me. "I think I'm falling in love with you, too," I whispered.
And with that confession, our bond grew even stronger, a bond that was not just about the passion we shared but about the trust and acceptance we had found in each other's arms, and surprisingly, I wasn't angry with my parents, quietly thanking them for what they had done. They never confessed to me, and I didn't challenge them. Family life continued, and they accepted I was in a relationship with a stranger called Alex.
In the weeks that followed, our love grew, nurtured by the saltwater kisses of the sea and the warm embrace of the cove that had become our sanctuary. We faced the world with newfound confidence, hand in hand, ready to conquer any challenge that came our way while we fished and shared the ups and downs of dropped catches and broken lines.
One evening, we had gone swimming together in the sea, our naked bodies entwined as he kissed, the waves crashing around us. Alex's eyes searched mine, a question in their depths, and I nodded, my heart racing with excitement and fear. "Yes," I whispered, my voice barely carrying over the sound of the ocean. "I want you, here and now."
Alex picked me up and carried me out of the water, his mouth capturing mine in a kiss that was both tender and fierce, his tongue exploring my mouth with a hunger that matched my own. His hands moved to my hips, his thumbs tracing the line of my scars, a reminder of the journey we had taken together. With a gentle effort, he guided me backwards onto the sand, my legs parting to allow him closer.
The wet sand was cold against my skin, the spray of the ocean a reminder of the world beyond our little haven. But all that mattered was Alex, his touch, his warmth, and the promise of what was to come. He reached down, his hand wrapping around my cock, stroking it gently until it was hard and aching. The sensation was exquisite, a symphony of pleasure that seemed to resonate through every part of my body.
With a soft moan, I leaned back, my hands finding purchase in the sand. Alex's kisses trailed down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered, "Trust me, Steve. I'll be so careful."
And then he was there, his cock nudging against my entrance, the tip slick with precum. I took a deep breath, my eyes closing as he pushed in, the feeling of fullness so intense it was almost overwhelming. But there was no pain, only a strange mix of pleasure and vulnerability that grew with every inch.
Alex's movements were slow and deliberate, his cock stretching me open as he whispered words of love and reassurance. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through me, and I could feel him, all of him, filling me in a way I had never been filled before. His hand found my cock again, his strokes matching the rhythm of his hips, and I knew that I was lost to him, lost to the feeling of being truly loved.
As the waves crashed around us, our bodies moved in time with the tide, a dance of passion that seemed to echo the very heartbeat of the ocean. The world outside the cove faded away, until all that remained was the sound of our breathing, the feel of his skin against mine, and the love that grew stronger with every passing moment.
In that instant, as Alex claimed me completely, I realised that my scars were no longer a prison but a gateway to a world of pleasure and love that I had never dared to dream of. The fear that had once consumed me was now a distant memory, washed away by the waves of passion that carried us both to new heights.
The orgasm that took me was unlike anything I had ever felt before. It started as a slow burn, a warmth that grew and grew until it consumed me, my body arching off the rock as I cried out. Alex held me tightly, his release following closely, his warmth spilling into me as we became one.
As we lay there, our bodies entwined, the ocean a gentle lullaby in the background, I knew that my life had changed forever. Alex had not just helped me overcome my fear but had shown me the beauty that could be found in embracing it. With him, I was not just a man with scars but a man who had faced his demons and come out the other side, stronger and more whole than ever before.
The stars began to emerge, twinkling in the night sky like a thousand little promises of joy to come. We lay naked, the saltwater drying on our skin, the air cool against my flushed cheeks, I knew that this was only the beginning. Together, we would face the world, our love a beacon in the dark, guiding us through any storm that might come our way.
My parents had plotted, Alex had fallen in love, and I had become a reasonable fisherman. In such a short time, I had gone from being a scarred beast to finding my inner beauty without the need for any Disney magic.
