Flip Flop Flap

By moc.loa@1kwahymmoT

Published on Jul 13, 2007

Gay

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FLIP FLOP FLAP

By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM

WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM

"Sin and iniquity!" intoned my Grandmother when I came out of my bedroom after changing. Grandma was a relic of another era, well into her nineties, when she was my age, they put on more clothes than they took off to go swimming! That or the men wore those silly orange-and-white-striped union suits, with their handlebar mustaches.

"And those things on your feet." Grandma continued. "Flip flops! What self-respecting person wears a shoe that only holds on by being stuck between your toes like that?"

"Aw, come on, Grandma, they're okay." I said. I'd picked a pair of green flip-flops, because I had a t-shirt the exact same shade. Pair those with my lemon-yellow swimtrunks and top it off with my orange-red hair, and I was ready for a day at the beach. "Everyone on the beach is wearing this stuff."

"If everyone went and jumped off a bridge, would you?" Grandma pointed out with her skewed logic.

"They do and I did, last year, remember?" I pointed out. I had, with a cord around my legs, naturally. Grandma humphed her opinion of that.

"Hey, bungee-jumping!" My dad put in. He had come out of his own bedroom. His clothes were a longer version of mine, a short-sleeved shirt and shorts that came down to below his knees. But he had on a pair of orange flip-flops.

"More flip-flops!" Grandma zeroed in on those. "Bunch of foolishness, you ask me."

"Why don't you go sign up for the bingo games, Mom." Dad said in lieu of challenging her opinions any more.

"Gambling?" Grandma was scandalized.

"They give away the cards to anyone who shows them a hotel key." Dad pointed out. "And you might win a nice prize. The woman next door won a twenty-dollar gift certificate just yesterday. Meanwhile, Joe and I will get out of your hair and pick up a tan and enjoy ourselves on the beach. We'll be back in time for dinner."

"Hmph." But Grandma didn't continue and I figured the bingo halls would have one more player today after all. Grandma was always entering those drawings at the grocery store and such, after all, she seems to have figured that if she didn't pay for it directly, it wasn't gambling, and quite enjoyed winning if she did.

So I went out to enjoy the day. From the house on the island, it was the matter of a short walk to any of three beaches. One I knew was loaded with families with little kids. The other seemed to be popular with a huge crowd. The third...that one was interesting. I'd seen it and the men there were all big, buffed, muscular. Hardly any women around. For a guy looking to work on a tan, and not interested in finding a girl just now (even to myself, I called it that), it was the best choice of the three.

I got out there and settled on a towel and began to work on the suntan lotion. As I did, I looked over to a couple of guys on a nearby towel...and froze! Those guys were...kissing! More than that, the guy on the far side from me had stuck his hand down the back of the trunks of the guy nearest to me, and unless I missed my guess, he was trying to work one finger up the other guy's ass!

"Holy Christ, I wandered onto a gay beach!" I said to myself. Well, in a sort-of low tone of voice. Well, a conversational tone if anyone had been right beside me....

"You sure did." came a voice not far away from me on the other side.

I looked around. Cute guy, very very blond, nicely muscled...and about five feet tall. I thought all blond guys were tall, but not this one! Like any true blond, his pale skin was more sun-burned than sun-tanned, a reddish tint to his skin. But despite that, he only wore a pair of red swimtrunks similar to mine.

"I didn't know." I said sheepishly.

"Now you do know, are you going to leave?" he asked me, tilting his head on one side. I picked up the unspoken message he didn't want me to leave.

"Uh...not right now." I said. "I guess not." I said after another pause. "I mean, I just came here to pick up a tan if I could, and...I guess not." I said again.

He smiled, and it was like the summer sun coming out from a crack in a cloudy day. "That's good." He said. Uninvited, he sat on the beach towel beside me and I scooted over because our legs were touching like that. He looked at me do that, but didn't say anything about it, just said, "I'm Scott."

"My name is Joe." I said cautiously in return, and he extended his hand and I shook it, awkwardly, my arm bent in an irregular angle as we were side-by-side. When he let go, I watched his hand, wondering if he'd try to put it in my lap.

Instead, he gestured around. "Some of these guys are couples, but most of them are singles, just like you and me." he said. "The cops know we aren't here to make any trouble, and the locals all know we all congregate here, and they like the money we pump into their economy year-round, so they give us this place and stay away. The water here is no good for swimming, anyway. Full of sandbars and rip-tides and sometimes a dangerous undertow, don't swim here, honest! Anyone into the beach as the beach goes to the other two. Which leaves this beach for guys like me...and you."

"Me?"

"Men who just want to work on their tan." he explained. "Nobody's going to take you down and rape you on the spot. If someone approaches you like I did, just give them a shake of the head and a wave of the hand, you know," he did a shake-and-wave that said, no thanks, I don't want any, "and they'll leave you alone. Plenty of other guys here to pick from, after all."

"Any way to tell them from the start I'm not available?" I asked.

"Yes, but you didn't do that this time." He gestured to my feet. "Single guys on this beach wear the thongs. If you're taken or not interested, you wear some other sort of footgear."

"Oh." I said in a small voice. "So that's why you walked up to me."

"Relax." he said to me. "If you want to show yourself unavailable, take them off and hide them until you're ready to leave. Bare feet also means unavailable."

I looked down at my feet, the green flip-flops, and at his feet, he had on one blue and one red. "Yours don't match." I said.

"Another little custom we have here." he said. "Trophies."

"Trophies?"

"You have sex with a guy, you take one of his thongs, and give him one of yours. You get home, you can set them up in your trophy case, and tell people about the one that didn't get away."

"Oh." I said, laughing. "I get it now. You already got lucky once today, then?"

He waggled his foot with the blue sandal, it was quite a bit bigger than the other one, which fit him perfectly. "Yeah, that was Gregg. He's a big mother, like six foot five, built like a football linebacker, and subtle as a chainsaw at five a.m. He got here this morning and I was first on the spot and so I got to siphon off his morning load of juices. Gregg's got a lot of, uh, spunk and energy, but not a lot of tact, he sort of walks up and grabs you. Which, when you're looking for that, can be a lot of fun."

"I guess it can." I said.

"You still haven't taken off your thongs." Scott pointed out. "Long as they're on your feet here, you're declaring yourself available."

"Yeah?" I said and I wiggled my toes. But I didn't take off my flip-flops. "How about that?" I smiled over at Scott.

"Yeah, how about that?" Scott said and this time, his hand did come in for a landing on my leg. I didn't move, and the hand slid up and over my lemon-yellow swimtrunks, and found the nexus of my groin. And a pole in the middle of it, like a sundial hand covered with a cloth.

"I thought you didn't want to be at a gay beach." Scott whispered to me.

"I didn't say that." I said. "I just didn't know this was one. Now that I do...cool."

And we kissed, slow and gentle. Maybe it was my imagination, knowing he had already sucked one guy today, but I tasted a bit of saltiness on his mouth and lips, and on his tongue. These lips, this tongue, had taken a huge man's cock earlier, sucked on him and drained his morning woody of its stiffness. Now the same man was after me, I was no titan but knowing that and seeing how Scott was several sizes smaller than me, made me feel big, too.

God, Dad had booked us onto an island with a gay beach! My vacation was totally set! And here I thought I'd be stuck holding yarn while Granny wound it up for knitting! I was going to cut a swath through the studs on this beach so big that you could drive a truck through the hole I'd leave behind!

Starting with Scott! He let out a chuckle as I lowered him back onto the sand. His hand caught my crotch again, but this time he worked his hand up until he could get at my waistband. The strings that tied it were exposed, he yanked them loose and then he was squirming around, presenting himself while he was diving for mine!

I caught his red swimtrunks in both hands and I nearly growled as I pulled them off of him. Skinned them up his legs like I was peeling a banana, while he jerked and tugged at my own, worming them down my buttocks and onto my legs. He thrust his head into the gap they left after a time and managed to shove them down to my knees by raw force, and with his head cradled in the nest that created, he fed himself my cock.

I groaned as his lips engulfed my prong and then I bent myself up and over into a hunchback position so I could catch Scott's prick. He was a smaller size in most ways, but a solid seven inches of blond-hair-nested rod stood waiting for my attention. The taste of it was that of a dozen summer days, of a dozen or more hungry men. I was gay and knew it, but my own actions until this had been a few good friends, never more than one at a time, engaging in furtive encounters. This beach was like my sexual smorgasbord, ready for me to pick and choose. I could take a blond today, and tomorrow I'd get a black-haired, tawny-skinned stud, the day after, maybe a pure black rod would suit my fancy, or maybe back to the luscious vanilla of a brown-haired Caucasian. All of them, I wanted all of them!

All that intensity drove my mouth up and down on Scott's prod, and he was gulping mine down and pausing to groan as I worked him hard. "Mmph, uhh, mmph, uhh-huh-uh, mph!" And those mphs were his moans muffled by my dong being stuffed down so deep I wasn't sure I could pull it back out again!

God, those hands were spreading my butt cheeks. A finger was touching my anus, begging it to open up, the raw sensations of that were fluttering about my brain, and I gasped when the big fingertip dove into my sphincter, forcing it open. That's when I realized.

Scott and I were no longer alone!

I mumbled and muffed my own cock-stifled gasps and got loose and looked up. My God, this guy was a monster! Wide as a refrigerator, shoulders like bowling balls, arms like pile-drivers, and a face that said, clearly as words, "You are mine!" in a way that made you quiver and nod in helpless agreement.

"Gregg?" I said, guessing at his identity.

"Yeah." the big stud said. "Saw you and wanted you. Nobody's using this butthole, so thought I'd take it."

Scott had warned me that Gregg just sort of grabbed you. I had Gregg's finger up my tuckerhole already, it was squirming itself in deeper and deeper. Gregg's finger was more substantial than some men's dongs! I grunted, moaned, and shoved Scott's rod back into my mouth. I was going to want all the stimulation I could get to survive this one!

But Gregg's next insertion was a lubrication-coated finger replacing the spit-lubed one he had shoved in first. I groaned and thrust myself back at that finger as he greased up my shit-chute, and was grunting like a pig by the time he had me coated to his satisfaction.

"Okay, this hole's ready for plugging." Gregg said. "Help me get it in him, Scott."

Scott's hand did the honors, steering the huge ship into dock with easy efficiency. I wondered if he and Gregg were a sort of team, that Gregg sent Scott in to smooth the way, get the guy hot and horny, and then Gregg slip in like a bulldozer hitting a condemned building, head-on and head-strong!

I felt that dong piercing me and I moaned, not just in passion but in genuine panic, like a scream squelched by the man-rod in my mouth! God, this pud was thicker than God! And I was being stretched to the point of breaking taking it into me. Wider, wider, wider! God, I couldn't do this, I can't do this!

And Scott picked that precise moment, that instant of my distress, to blast his wad! I mean, I was about to turn loose and yell when he started squirting his juices up into my mouth, and my attempt to pull away only caused him to grab hold and keep me in place! He thrust his hips up at me and thrashed and jabbed that spurting pole at me, and then let go, his load emptied, my throat ravaged and raw and filled with his come! I swallowed hard, got most of it, and then sputtered the rest around his deflating organ! "Jesus, man, I can't do this, I...guh!"

Scott had returned to nursing my pud and now I had a cock in my ass deep enough to hammer my prostate, and a mouth on my cock working my glans, I was getting pleasure from both sides and my young hormones burst like so many fireworks in glee at the intensity.

Gregg was moving his hips now, driving that steel rod of his in and out of my buns, I had taken all of him, he was huge, but my body had taken all of him, God, I had all of this huge man's huge pud inside my ass, I wanted it, all of it, I wanted more, more!

Gregg pumped me roughly, now, but I only moaned and mumbled that this was good, yeah, more, give me more, come on, fuck my butt, you damned stud, fuck my butt harder, come on, is that all you got, fuck me harder!

"G'Nar!" growled Gregg (it sounded like that, anyway) and he grabbed my waist and rolled the both of us over, my cock popped out of Scott's mouth like a cork from a wine bottle, and I ended up on top of Gregg. Scott stood up, smiling at me impaled and on top of Gregg, and he said, "Enjoying your vacation, Joe?"

I had to laugh at that, an exhausted, feeble noise, but a laugh. "Yeah, come on, suck me off, now you got your buddy's dong up my butt, you can finish sucking me off at least!"

"He's onto us." Scott said to Gregg, but I learned later that Scott was just joking, this wasn't a setup however much it looked like one. Gregg and Scott always chased the newest guys at the beach, is all, of course they often ended up sharing like this one way or another.

But I got up and was able to ride Gregg's prong, and Scott leaned in and I was on all fours on my back, what I called "the spider" as a kid, only I wasn't ambulating, I was bouncing my body up and down, driving my cock into Scott's mouth and my butt onto Gregg's dick, and the hot day wasn't the only reason I was sweating!

I howled when I came, ejaculating hard upwards into Scott's mouth. Scott held on tight and drained me like I was a milkshake, his eyes closed and his mouth working in blissful harmony, serene as a nursing infant.

Gregg didn't like me stopping my bouncing while I creamed into Scott, and I was no more than done when he rolled us over again, this put us off the towel and onto the sand, but I was ground down into it while Gregg rammed his rod into my butt and I was a piece of meat for him to fuck, and I lay there and was his meat, tenderize my butt, you big bastard, come on, pound my ass but good, damn you!

And Gregg roared like a lion when he came, and he did his best to flatten me into the sand with his hammering thrusts of his hips, and then he rested on me heavy as a lead statue, and as big as one, and then he rolled off and without a word of thanks or acknowledgment, the big man walked off.

I got up and looked for my swimtrunks, got them back on, and then for my flip-flops. No greens ones at all available. One of them now adorned Scott's other foot.

"Hey!" I said, then remembered. "Oh, yeah. The trophies."

"You got it." Scott said. "I got Gregg to leave you his right foot thong, that'll let you take my left-foot thong and have a pair to get home with."

"Oh...thanks." I said. I was sweaty and exhausted and more than ready for a long cold drink and something to eat! "I'd better get moving."

Getting home was a real trial. It was over a mile, not so much when you're relaxing on a holiday...but you try that on hot concrete with one red sandal about three sizes too small and one blue sandal about three sizes too big! Neither one stays on your foot right. My poor sizzled tootsies were well done by the time I finally got home and indoors.

And Grandma was there and waiting for me. "Where did you go?" she asked me. "I came looking for you and you weren't at either of the beaches. Where did you go?" And she looked at my feet, at the mismatched flip-flops, and someone must have told her the secret.

"You were at that beach!" she shrieked at me. I won't repeat the rest of it, suffice it to say I was condemned to hellfire, written out of her will, disowned as part of her family, and going to be in more trouble as soon as my Dad got home!

I was mortified, as you can imagine. It's one thing to set out on a sexual odyssey at a gay smorgasbord of horny studs...and quite another thing to do it with your Grandma watching! I hunkered down like a whipped puppy and figured out what I could say to Dad when he got home.

He came in about an hour later. "Hey, everyone, you guys ready to go eat?"

"William, it's about time you got home, you have to hear what your son was doing...." And Grandma trailed off.

Puzzled, I looked at her. She wasn't looking up at my Dad's face. She was looking....

I looked myself in that direction, down at Dad's feet. The ones that had worn a pair of matching orange flip-flops out the door that morning

Now with one black and one yellow flip-flop of different sizes on his feet.

Uh-oh!

THE END

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E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM

WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM

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