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One Summer Morning

by Biff Spork

Chapter 2

Within a few weeks I had populated my life list with a couple of dozen local birds. I started with the House Sparrows who fluttered around our back yard. They were often joined by Oregon Juncos and House Finches although the sparrows resisted the intrusion of the latter in an unfriendly fashion. I added a Spotted Towhee, an American Robin, the ubiquitous European Starlings (despite their invasive status), Crows and, on a deep forest excursion, a Raven. The last was a stunning addition to my life list. The bird was so big and so black and possessed such a deep, raspy voice, I was moved. I could easily see why local Native Peoples here in the Pacific Northwest gave him such prominence in their myths.

I added a few raptors and shore birds though the latter and seagulls were irritatingly difficult to identify with certainty. I'm proud of my excellent photo of a Bald Eagle. Though I had somehow got the impression Bald Eagles were rare I found that they were common in our area. But after a month of serious daily bird-watching there was one large local raptor I had yet to see, the Osprey (Pandion haliaetus).

Though neither rare nor threatened, our local ospreys were shy to say the least. However, by assiduous combing of local bird-watching websites and forums I made a list of places where I would most likely encounter an osprey. After cross-checking that list against a map, only a single location on the list was within biking distance, Haystack Beach.

Thus it was that I set out one sunny July morning with my binoculars, camera bag and some refreshments in a back-pack. Haystack Beach formed part of a large coastal park. An hour's bike ride brought me to the parking lot. I locked my bike there and headed down a trail that led to the ocean. Information signs told me it was a forty-five minute hike. After the hot and sweaty bike ride I enjoyed the cool quietness of the coastal forest. The trail wound through towering cedar, fir and maple trees along the course of a shallow stream. The throaty call of a raven and the solid drumming of a woodpecker echoed in the tall trees but I did not dally on the way. Today was osprey day.

The trail arrived at the shore of the Pacific at the western end of Johnson Lagoon, named after Hiram Johnson, an early local settler. Johnson Beach stretched westward two miles from the lagoon until it reached a narrow rocky promontory named, predictably, Johnson Point. Beyond this headland, which I could just see in the distance, lay Haystack Beach. It curved around a small bay containing the haystack-shaped island that gave the beach its name. After a brief break for a drink, I set out westward along the golden sands towards Johnson Point, keeping an alert eye for ospreys cruising in the cloudless sky.

Aside from an elderly couple walking their dog along the lagoon shore Johnson Beach was deserted. This was not too surprising since it was early in the day, not yet eleven o'clock, and it wasn't a popular local beach. It was a considerable distance from the city with several good beaches closer. There were no washrooms or fountains to appeal to families and the lengthy walk through the forest discouraged casual visitors. Threatening signs along the shore warned of dangerous rip-tides. One was furthermore cautioned to keep an eye out for tsunamis. "Seek higher ground," was the advice given. Since Johnson Beach was bordered by well-nigh impenetrable jungles of salal, this advice struck me as ironic. As if one would have time to seek 'higher ground'! I determined to die with dignity on the beach rather than scrabbling helplessly in the torrent while entangled in the shrubbery.

I preferred my beaches to be populated since I liked to check out sunbathers for errant genitalia spilling out of scanty beach wear. People were also sometimes careless of their children's dress while they frolicked in the waves. After forty minutes' walk, I passed over Johnson Point and reached Haystack Beach. Despite my focus on potential ospreys I was happy to see someone idling in the gentle surf in the distance. I could only see the top half of the body but the lack of bikini straps told me I was looking at a male, probably an adult male judging by the size.

With the binoculars to my eyes I was able to confirm that this was an adult male. Much to my surprise, when he strode out of the water shaking the drops from his hair, I could see he was naked. Yes, utterly naked from head to toe. I immediately focused on his groin but his penis was hardly visible, lost in a mat of pubic hair. The Pacific is often a pleasant warm shade of blue in this area but the warmth of the hue is misleading. The water is very cold, hypothermia cold – an hour's immersion can kill you. My four and one-eighth inches practically disappears after a minute in the water here. All that remains above the surface of my body is a wrinkled tube of foreskin clenched over a little bump that indicates the glans. The stalk shrinks in total retreat to the warmer interior, a phenomenon well-known to boys as 'shrink-dink'.

In fear that my goggle-eyed presence might frighten the bather into clothing himself I scurried to the forested edge of the beach and took cover behind a driftwood log. It was shaded by the canopy of large leafy trees that lined the shore of the bay. There, while my breath slowed and my heartbeat returned to normal I waited and considered how to proceed. I should mention here that I was not totally innocent. I had seen photos of naked people and even videos as well as statuary and paintings. But, I had never seen another naked person in the flesh, an actual living person with no clothes on. To say I was excited would be an understatement. But my excitement was only slightly sexual. A large, hairy adult man inspired my curiosity more than my lust. My personal fantasies were populated by slender hairless boys like myself, only better looking and nicer. Nevertheless, the opportunity to observe an actual naked person was impossible to resist.

Even through the binoculars the man was too distant to make out any details. He reclined on a blanket spread in the sunshine several hundred yards distant. I decided to creep closer along the wooded edge of the beach while using bushes and driftwood logs for cover. It was absolutely imperative that I was not discovered. Myself and a large naked man on an otherwise deserted beach – anything might happen. I thought I would be safe as long as I was unobserved so I used my most cunning and slithery movements to worm ever closer.

When I was about one hundred fifty yards away I paused to observe my prey while I sat on a convenient mound of sand behind a large driftwood log. I was riveted. His penis had now recovered from its icy bath and was lolling luxuriously on his belly. Occasionally he reached down and scratched his balls. He was very hairy, probably in his sixties and about twenty pounds overweight so I decided that although this was a memorable occasion I didn't need a photo.

"Okay, you've got me," said a voice of capitulation close on my right side and the mound of sand beneath me shifted. I looked to my side in shock and saw a pair of bright green eyes staring at me through a couple of leafy branches resting on the sand. "Oh!" the voice exclaimed. "You're a kid! Great! Get offa me!" At the same time a sandy pair of knees pushed up out of the mound and tipped me over backwards. By the time I righted myself, an entire body had risen up from the sand and I found myself fixed by those green eyes. They belonged to the sandy body of a boy about the same size as myself. Aside from a thick coating of sand he appeared to be utterly naked. He sat down cross-legged opposite me.

"So," he said, grinning. "Why are you sneaking up on us like some kinda spy or peeping tom?"

I decided to go on the offensive. "And why are you hiding under the sand like that. Like a ninja! What's going on here, anyway?"

"Oh, I figured you might be a cop or a social worker come to drag me back to my horrible foster family. I was hid pretty good, wasn't I? You wouldn't have seen me if you didn't happen to sit on me. But what's your excuse? Make it good or I'll take you over to Jack there and let him have his way with you. I know he likes boys." He glared at me through slitted eyes and gestured with his chin toward the naked man I had been stalking.

As he spoke his movements shook the dry sand off him and his body became ever more visible. It was an attractive body, fit and evenly tanned all over. He might have been a diver or a gymnast. I was enthralled, spellbound and speechless.

"Okay," he said decisively after a silent minute had passed. "Let's go see Jack." He unfolded his legs and began to stand.

"No, no," I said. "I'm a bird-watcher and...."

"A bird-watcher...." he said as he re-seated himself. He calmly adjusted his penis and testicles and flicked some sand off them. His penis rose to half-mast. He looked at me through half-lidded eyes, remarkably green eyes with just a hint of gold flecks in them.

"Yes," I said self-righteously "and I came here today to see if I could see an osprey. I heard that one has sometimes been seen here." My fingers itched to get my camera out of its bag.

"An osprey," he said. "What's an osprey?"

"It's a very large bird, like an eagle, that dives into the water to catch fish. When you see it overhead it has a white head and breast and the wing-tips and tail are dark."

"Oh, yeah," he said. "I've seen that bird." He leaned toward me enthusiastically. "It's really neat. When he sees a fish he kind of hovers way up in the air." He fluttered his fingers like wings. "Then he folds himself small and drops like a rock about a hundred miles an hour. He hits the water and goes right under. Then about two seconds later he rises up out of the water with a big fish in his claws and flies away."

"Wow!" I said. "I'd like to see that."

"Yeah, it's great. But he only flies over here in the early morning. He's already come and gone today."

"Oh, he's already gone? Maybe he'll come back?"

The boy shook his head. "Not likely. Usually I only see him in the early morning. It's like he lives somewhere down towards the lagoon and has a daily route he follows. If he catches a fish here he flies back towards the lagoon. Maybe he's got a nest there with some baby birds. If he doesn't catch anything here he just keeps flying along the coast and I don't see him till the next morning."

"Oh."

"But," he continued, "that doesn't tell me why you were sneaking around under the trees with your binoculars pointing at Jack over there. He's not an osprey."

"Well, he's naked."

"Yeah, this is a nude beach, you know. A little later in the day there'll be more people here and there along the beach, all naked. But I still don't understand why you're peering at him through binoculars and sneaking around like some kinda pervert."

"Well, I never saw a naked person before and I thought he might not like me looking at him."

He laughed and said, "Jack? Jack would love it if you went over there and stared at him. If nobody's looking at him he gets bored."

"How about you?"

"Oh, well, Jack's actually a nice guy. Brings me some food from time to time but he's not exactly my idea of something good to look at."

"No, I meant, don't you mind me seeing you without any clothes on? Don't you feel weird being naked?"

He laughed again, an easy laugh that bubbled up out of him like music. "Oh, I love it. You should try it. Being naked is great. Being naked is just being yourself. What's weird is wearing clothes."

While he spoke I noticed his penis was swelling and rising. It was pointing right at me though I tried to ignore it. He looked down into his lap and said, "Look at this thing!" My eyes were glued to it. While we watched, it continued its elevation. "It's got a mind of its own," he said. He flicked it with his finger and it rose straight up in an instant. We both pondered it. He stood and reached down to help me up. "C'mon. Let's go to my place and get something to drink. I'm really glad you came. I haven't seen another kid for weeks."

Still holding my hand he led me down the beach back the way I had come. After we walked a few minutes he said, "Look, I'm really scratchy with all this sand on me. Just give me a sec to wash it off." He sprinted into the ocean, duck-dived, bobbed up after a minute and ran back to where I stood waiting. Water droplets glistened all over him and he shook his longish hair like a dog. His penis had returned to its limp state. He took my hand again and said, "Okay, I'm camped just over here." He pulled me into the shade of an enormous arbutus tree where there was a rough triangle of logs with the ashes of a fire in the centre. Then he turned me around by holding my shoulders and pushed me down to sit on a smooth red limb that twisted out from the base of the arbutus.

"Would you like water," he asked, grinning. "Or water?"

"Water, please," I said. I was just about fainting. This was so much fun.

"My favorite drink!' he said. He lifted a blue plastic container from behind a log and turned a little spigot to fill a tin mug. Then he handed the mug to me. I drank a bit. Then he took the mug from my hand, drank what was left, filled the mug again and handed it to me. "I only have one mug," he said apologetically. His teeth were so white and his lips so red I loved drinking from the same cup and surreptitiously turned it so I could press my lips where his had rested. I couldn't help but stare at him as he moved around. Every part of him was wonderful to look at, perfectly shaped and sun-browned. His penis looked pretty much the same as mine, long and thin, uncircumcised with a fair bit of foreskin dangling off the end. His balls were tucked up neatly under his penis. He was a symphony of smooth curves and was absolutely hairless aside from the charmingly unruly mop of sun-bleached brown hair on his head.

He set the mug down when he had emptied it. "I'm sorry I can't offer you anything to eat," he said. "The beans are still soaking and won't be ready to cook until near dark and I don't have anything else right now."

"I have some snacks...." I said as I pulled my pack around to open it. Mother had packed a napkin which I spread on the sand. "I hope you don't mind if it's all vegan. I'm vegan."

"You're vegan?" he said. "That's great! So am I. This is fantastic. What have you got? I'm starving." He sat cross-legged on the sand on one side of the napkin and I sat on the other side and began to unload the pack.

"Okay," I said. "Let's start with some corn chips and humus. Do you like humus?"

"Love it!"

We both appeared to be ravenous and spooned the humus up with the chips without sparing a breath for conversation. While I dug around for the next course he licked the humus container clean.

Then we moved on to the tomato/vegan ch eese/avocado sandwiches. When we had demolished those we laid back against the logs with handfuls of juicy fresh cherries.

"Oh, God! These are so good!" he groaned as some of the dark purple juice ran down his chin. "Hey, you?"

"Yes?"

"What's your name?"

"Kevin," I said.

"Hi Kevin. I'm Mani. I'm happy to meet you, Kevin."

He held out his hand and I reached out and shook it. "Hi Mani, I'm happy to meet you too," I said. My mind was silently saying 'I want to move in here with you Mani right now and live right under your armpit and hug you so tight and kiss you all over again and again and never ever let you go.'

"Mani," I repeated while peeling an orange.

"Yes?"

"Oh, I don't have anything to say. I just wanted to say your name. It's such a nice name. Is it short for something? Like Manfred?"

"No, it's not short for anything. It just is."

I handed him a segment of the orange and ate one myself. We continued like that and each time I handed him a segment he chewed it with his eyes closed and his head back. As soon as he finished one segment I fed him another. It was so satisfying to watch his enjoyment I forgot to eat any more of the orange myself. Even though I was stuffed I was wishing I had brought more food so we could just go on eating and talking and laughing. I didn't want it to end.

Mani leaned forward, looked at me and took my hands in his. "Kevin, thank you for that lunch. That was the best meal I've eaten for a long time. It was good of you to share your food with me." Then he flopped back against the log and glanced down into his lap. His penis was rising to an upright position. I could feel mine swelling sympathetically. He squeezed his once in his fist then put one hand on each knee and closed his eyes. His erection slowly deflated. Mine didn't and continued to struggle for release from the confines of my shorts.

We sat in companionable silence. I looked up at the patches of blue sky through the arbutus branches and then at Mani. I let my eyes rove over him. I had never dreamt a boy as beautiful as he was. He was like a piece of fine cabinetry or jewelry. Every tiniest detail was perfect, from the delicate rosebud nipples on his chest to the nails of his toes, each one beautifully shaped. His wonderfully straight dark eyebrows above those long-lashed green eyes, his long slender fingers, his nose, his chin and, when his friendly grin stretched his face, the dimples it produced in both cheeks, all seemed wonderful in a way I had never imagined.

It was early afternoon. The sun was beating down and even under the shade of the arbutus it was hot. Mani unfolded his legs and stretched them out, arched his back and put his arms out like wings. "You know what would be nice now?" he asked.

"What?" I said, unable to imagine anything nicer than sitting under this tree looking at this wonderful naked boy.

"Now we go for a swim to cool off, then a bit of frisbee, maybe another dip, then come back here and have a little snooze."

"Oh. I didn't bring my suit with me...."

Mani's musical laugh rang out. "Kevin, you're with me. You don't need a suit. This is a nude beach." He stood up and came over to where I was sitting. "Just relax. You'll see. It's easy." Then he bent down and pulled at the shoulders of my t-shirt. I could have resisted but I raised my arms without thinking so he could remove the shirt. He sat down between my feet and picked up one foot. He didn't bother unlacing the shoe, just pulled it off and peeled the sock down. Then he did the other foot. My shorts had a button at the top. He undid that, slid the zip down and indicated with his hands I was to lift my hips. I did and he took my shorts off. I was helpless. I was terribly afraid but I wanted him to continue. We both looked at my briefs. Then I looked into those green eyes and he hooked his fingers under the elastic waist band. I raised my hips and he pulled the briefs down then lifted my legs up into the air, removed the briefs and added them to the pile of my other clothing. I was totally embarrassed by my straining erection. It had smacked on my belly when he pulled my briefs off but now bobbed eagerly up and down with every heartbeat. Then I looked a little further between my legs and saw that his penis too was standing up and pulsing.

Mani smiled and said, "Isn't it great to be a boy? C'mon!" He pulled me up and we raced hand in hand out into the sunlight towards the sparkling waves.

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