RICKY AT THE BEACH
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This writing reflects an all too brief relationship I had when I was 20 with young man named Ricky, who was 18. It was my first adult sexual relationship with another man. I look back on it fondly because it was a "first time" for both of us. We were so inexperienced in the ways of making love which make this an interesting and erotic read. Meeting and getting to know each other was indicative of how quickly two can fall in love when it is least expected.
Ricky is a real person and not a Nifty fantasy. That said; some names, places and facts have been changed to protect identities.
Life is a series of opportunities that often pass us by, much to our regrets. One should strive to jump into great opportunities without hesitation or fear.
Do you remember the times you set eyes on a guy you just had to make friends with?
For me, Ricky was one such guy. In the course of two months, a few quick glances with mutually friendly smiles became a friendship which then blossomed quickly into something much more.
I worked summers in Alaska at a seafood processing plant which paid a lot of my college expenses. My job was located in a remote operation located in a smaller Alaskan town. In summer, the weather was decidedly cool and breezy. Many days were sunny and occasionally quite warm in the long daylight hours of Alaskan summers.
Seasonal work in the seafood industry usually means long hours and a lot of hard work. This was ideal for a college boy like me. Most the seasonal workers in the seafood processing industry consisted of college students, rough-neck type drifters, and workers from a Seattle based union that employed line processing workers; primarily made up of Philippine immigrant labor. Most members of the latter group were comprised of middle age and older men that had been doing this for many years.
My company flew all summer employees to Alaska from Seattle where we would be housed in dorm-like "bunkhouses" and fed in mess halls. We were there to work; this was no summer vacation. Salmon were caught by independent fishermen with gill nets. The fish were off loaded at plants where it was originally canned for shipment worldwide. As transportation improved, many canneries also started freezing gutted salmon. What was caught could easily be in the market, anywhere in the world within three to four days or sooner. When fish needed processing, a bountiful catch would mean 16 and even 20 hour days as time is short between catch and readying the product for transport. What little time we had to ourselves was spent listening to cassette taped music and playing cards.
What's this? There amongst the Philippine crew stood out a young guy, close to my age. And, he really looked drop dead cute. He had the most gorgeous deep brown eyes and his hair was cut short, similar to mine; basically a crew cut. And, he also noticed me. He gave me a shy smile that was so inviting. I had to get to know him.
Being thousands of miles away from family and friends, the look of a friendly smile from anybody my age, amongst the many hours of hard work, was very welcome in the remote isolation where one longed for contact from back home from one's own friends and family.
The time was the late 1970s, before cell phones and other forms of "instant communication." Long distance telephone calls to and from Alaska were expensive and the quality of voice communications was sucky when one was lucky enough to talk over the phone to those back home.
At dinner in the mess hall a couple days later I took a deep breath and, with some trepidation, went over to the tables where the Philippine crew sat and introduced myself to the young man with the friendly smile.
"My name is Will. Haven't seen you here in before," I said shyly as I got his attention with a hand out for a welcoming shake.
He readily shook my hand, smiled and introduced himself. "I'm Richard, but everybody calls me Ricky."
The grip of his hand was firm but gentle and just making this contact warmed my heart.
Ricky spoke like a California boy and had no foreign accent. Most the other Philippine men had accents and were born in the Philippines. I found out quickly that Ricky was born, raised, and lived in central California. He was the son of Philippine immigrants who, by Ricky's description, sounded very much like my own parents. He said he played football in high school and his favorite team was the Oakland Raiders which I teased him about since I rooted for the Seattle Seahawks. He was a little shorter than me in stature and kind of small for a football player. I was attracted to his lean physique and still "boyish" appearance. Ricky was an all American boy who exhibited incredible kindness. I strive to be that type of guy and I seek out and try to befriend other guys like myself.
I asked Ricky, "How'd you get stuck working in a place like this?"
"I just graduated from high school and my parents decided I needed a summer job before heading off to college. My uncle is that man over there and he got me this job," as he pointed to one of the more animated men in the group, chatting away at the other end of the table with his co-workers.
"Yeah, I know how that goes," I said since my parents wanted me to work help pay my way through college.
Ricky worked alongside the other Philippine men, gutting salmon on the processing line, and I worked driving a forklift, moving product into and out of the large blast freezers where it was then packaged and loaded onto freezer containers that were shipped to Seattle and the world.
There is an interesting sexual dynamic of working in Alaska like we did. If you've ever lived in a communal situation such as in a college dorm, you know how limited privacy becomes. Living and working in such a remote place meant that opportunities to relieve sexual urges were limited to quick, solitary hand jobs in the shower stall and/or maybe a VERY quiet jerk in bed so as not to be noticed by a roommate. Nobody really talked about this aspect of life but I'm certain others coped in the same way as I did. If other guys were being sexual with each other, I certainly didn't know about it. I was a gay young man working with a bunch of men I perceived to be very straight, at best, and homophobic, at worst. It would not bode well for me if I let on I had a sexual interest in other guys.
During breaks, I always found Ricky and his friendly smile. We sat, drank our coffee together and talked about life. His family was like my family. He was going to go to college. He talked about friends but nobody in particular that he was close to. We shared that we had had girlfriends, which I actually did have at a couple occasions in my high school years. In truth, I spent my teen years in denial of my sexuality and did my best to be that guy who was trying to "conform to the norm." I was careful to not let this become known to Ricky, who I was becoming hopelessly in love with. Did I say hopeless? Well maybe not. Because it would soon be obvious that Ricky harbored the same feelings about me.
Our budding friendship was noticed amongst Ricky's peers and it wasn't long before I was invited to sit with the Philippine crew at the mess hall. In fact, it was like being "adopted." To this day, I have great respect for Philippine people and all minorities, in part, due to the kindness Ricky and his coworkers showed me. Ricky reflected my feelings and he told me so, often. So I began to love him.
Towards the end of the season, work had slowed down and everybody had time on their hands to relax with a day off here and there. This was usually a time where everybody celebrated with beer and other forms of alcohol bought at nearby town, located less than a mile from the plant. Beyond the town was a long sandy beach with tall grass above the high tide line.
"Will, the guys are going to party at the beach tonight. You like to come along? Hey, there'll be some beer and weed," Ricky says.
His smirk and pleading eyes made me eagerly nod with an immediate yes.
The evening beach party was planned because we had the following day off. It was towards the end of the fishing season, so everybody was looking forward to going home and it was time to kick back and celebrate. At the beach there was a large bon fire with beer and, "the best damn weed" I had ever smoked. Ricky and I got pretty stoned. I remember his friendly expression when we looked into each other's eyes between the giggles of being under the influence.
Ricky motioned me aside, away from the others, and mentioned to me softly how the marijuana was making him horny and after some careful consideration as to how I should respond, I suggested something along the lines that "maybe I could take care of that." My surprise was Ricky quickly led the way and at that point I knew he wanted the same thing as I did! Since many guys were coming and going at the beach party, it was easy to slip away into the tall grass above the beach without much notice that would compromise what was to happen next between us.
Now I need to tell you, we were certainly not polished in the ways of making love as we both soon admitted to each other this was the first time doing something like this, as adults. It was the clumsy but beautiful way of both of us discovering something new about ourselves that added to our sexual excitement. This made for exceptional and memorable milestone of my life and hopefully Ricky feels the same way, today.
As we were now hundreds of feet away from the other guys and in total privacy of the tall grass, we both proceeded, slowly and a little awkwardly with our desires.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" I asked as I gently placed my arm on his shoulder.
He didn't say a word, but he mimicked my action by placing his arm on my shoulder also. It was apparent he wanted me to lead and so I did. I gently ran my hands down his arms while looking into Ricky's eyes. For a few seconds, we held hands. I started to strip him down and he never objected. I unbuttoned and removed his shirt and he did the same for me. The cool air had given us goose-bumps, or was it more than that?
He had to notice the tent in my pants and he had a tent going on, also. I undid his belt buckle and tugged his pants to his ankles. I did the same to my own. We were now two guys alone with the most intimate of thoughts and a little nervous as to how to proceed.
"I've liked you since I first saw you, Rick."
"Same with you, Will."
"I can't believe this is happening," I said as I pulled my underwear down, ever so slowly, and watched to see if Rick was going to do the same with his.
Somebody has to go first, so I got it over with and revealed my circumcised erection to him. He giggled softly as he slid his undies down quickly and revealed his prize manhood to me.
My gosh! Ricky sure had a beautiful erection and he was fully intact with a foreskin that still covered the bottom half of his glistening purple cockhead. What was poking out of its hood was a slit that was already dripping with pre-cum. He was definitely a man with a full pubic bush of short, dark, and curly hair and a he very hairy nut sack with nuts about my size. Being of Philippine descent, his foreskin and lower penis were a little darker skinned than that of my own Caucasian penis.
Everything about this; Ricky and I being naked before each other felt so right. He was so irresistibly beautiful.
We embraced and just stood there for a minute, maybe longer and I took in every feeling I could. I felt his heart beat. My cock was side by side with his and I felt his slimy cockhead against writhing against my abdomen. My cock was feeling his smooth abdomen.
I pulled back and looked into his deep brown eyes. Then it happened. I just had to kiss this guy. First guy I ever romantically ever kissed. It was kind of clumsy. But it felt right and he was enjoying this as much as me. I never wanted this to end.
Can't remember exactly what was said but this is how I remember it going down. Reading the following, you will become the voyeur that gets to visualize two young men discover the joys of sex for the first time with each other. It was not polished but it was real and erotic.
"Can I touch yours?" he asked shyly.
"Lay down," I responded.
I let him have his way with me, and he eagerly started to explore my penis and nuts with gentle caresses, tugs and even some playful slaps. I did the same with his penis. I examined his foreskin. I wanted to see how it worked. I pulled it back gently to reveal a cockhead that looked pretty much like mine, except it was smooth and shiny.
"That feels so damn good!" he exclaimed.
"What does?" I asked.
"When you pull my 'skin down over my tip, it feels like it will explode!"
"You can touch mine, too," I reminded Ricky.
We spent a good amount of time fondling each other, then we kissed again. We embraced and each of us rubbed each other's backs and butts. Just like the line in the sexy boner song, Wild Thing; "Come on, hold me tight."
Ricky then kissed me on my chest, nipples, navel, and down my pubic trail. Soon his face was staring at the tip of my cock. He gave the tip a tentative kiss. Then he gave it a lick.
We be 69. Meantime, I'm still fascinated by his foreskin. How it worked. I marveled at what I didn't have on my own cock. I'm pumped it with my fist and it glided and folded gently over his tip. I did this over and over. I masturbated another guy's penis for the first time!
"Will, slow down. I'm getting too close. I want this to last," Ricky pleaded.
Since he's doing pretty good at getting me close with my first blow job, I decided to give him one also. I put my mouth on his cock and gave it a good lick. I wanted to taste every sexy thing about his cock. I tasted his salty and thick pre-cum. His odor had a sweet smell especially his pubic hair and sweaty skin between his legs. Everything about this really took me by surprise at how erotic it was to me.
"Ricky, make me cum."
"You close?"
We both masturbated each other. I slowly stroked his manhood with my hand firmly clasped to his foreskin. I started in with rhythmic strokes that I knew would make him spew. He gently tugged at my cut penis, with quick jerks and with what little loose skin I had on my stiff erection.
Ricky shot first. The first pulse of his orgasm produced a gob of sperm that shot upwards and splat landed between his nipples. This was followed by a few more liquid like ropes that collected on his abdomen.
Ricky then lubed his hand with his own semen and turned his attention to my pleading cock.
I closed my eyes and all I could think was "oh my God, you're beautiful, Ricky."
His stroking slowed as he sensed my pending climax. The came one of the best orgasms I ever had!
Both spent, we embraced. I brushed his hair with my fingers. Ricky smiled.
"Did we really do that?" Ricky asked, innocently.
We dressed and walked back to our respective bunkhouses.
In reality, our sexual tryst lasted no more than 15 minutes. But what 15 minutes they were!
Was there morning after guilt? Maybe. But a quick smile from Ricky assured me he was cool with what we did and we were now more than friends. We never got the chance to go further. In two weeks, we were flying home.
And my heart was then aching for weeks.
I love you, Ricky, wherever you are now, some four decades, later. Thank you for showing me that I could really love a guy and that it could feel so natural and awesome!
Comments and encouragements are welcome. I'd love to hear from any reader who may have had a similar or interesting "first time" that he would like to share.
wrsjrm@gmail.com
Will S.