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Volunteering on surf patrol during the summer, working on my tan and surrounded by beautiful women?
I’m glad I have my camera with me. I can photograph the proof that such a man exists, that he’s not just out there.
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Frowning at my curves showing through my one piece bathing suit, I wrap a sarong around myself then frown deeper.
Big straw hat. Big dark glasses. I may as well just dig a hole and bury myself in the sand, but hey. It’s a start at being social, actually going outdoors.
I plan to sit outside for a few hours and get some sun.
Most people from my year graduated and went to Europe for their gap year, or straight on to their internship.
I guess I’m not most people.
“There’s plenty of sun, sand and surf right down the road,” My dad lectures, always trying to get me out of the house. Not to be mean, but just to see me doing something social for once.
“And boys,” he adds with a grin, making me roll my eyes. The two things I know dad wants for me more than anything are some friends and some fun in my life, but most of all a boyfriend.
“Why don’t you take your camera? You’re so talented with that thing, Jaydee. Be quick though,” he adds, gulping his coffee once he notices the time. “It’s gonna come in nasty later on they reckon, so don’t get caught in that storm if you do go. I gotta run, sweetie. I’ll see ya tomorrow, gotta love these split shifts!”
Pecking my head he dashes out for the bus to work, and I figure he’s right.
Enough is enough.
I’ve moped around for weeks, months.
My life’s passing me by and I should really do something about it. I grab my SLR camera and head to the beach, which is a ten minute drive.
Being a Wednesday morning, the beach isn’t exactly packed. Perfect for me to ease into the idea of this before committing to something major like a Saturday afternoon promenade.
There’s dark clouds on the horizon as well, although it’s sunny enough still.
But after a couple of girls in bikinis look up and down over their glasses at me, whisper and then chuckle to themselves I make a beeline for the deserted pier.
This was a stupid idea.
Flushed with embarrassment, I tell myself I have as much right to be here as anyone else, and busy myself with the view once I get about halfway down the pier, noticing the change in the breeze and some lightning on the horizon.
My mood picks up once I realize I can get some great shots after all. It’s been too long since I got out on a shoot.
Before long I forget about Malibu Barbie and her evil twin snickering at me from the beach and get lost in my view, in my one passion, photography.
As the weather cell from the north hits the sea, I focus more on the beach, wishing more than anything I’d brought a jacket. It’s starting to get cold and very windy, but the view is incredible.
Zooming in past the plastic twins, who are packing up for the day already, I see him.
I nearly drop my camera when I do, but I see him.
And the moment I do, I know that somehow my life is about to change.
His bronzed, V-shaped torso cuts through the view, each muscle rippling under his tank top and very short shorts as he jogs through the light surf.
His head turning quickly, as if he’s been looking in my direction, and I feel an instant warmth in my heart, and under my swimsuit between my legs.
The breeze is now wind, and those dark clouds have turned black, like ink spilling from the horizon right over us within what feels like seconds, but I can’t let this man out of my sights, not for a moment.
I want this feeling. I want the sense of excitement I get from looking at him. But most of all, I want some damned pictures as proof a man like this even exists.
He’s stopped on the beach, surveying the sky, then bending to get his breath back maybe? No. He’s stretching.
Giving me the most perfect view of his whole, delicious body as he does. I’ve never seen such a perfect specimen of manhood, and I let out a gasp, followed by a low moan once I focus on his manhood. A confident, thick line in his shorts that seems to be growing a little.
The camera snaps like a machine gun, firing his image into immortality. Mine forever. The closest I’ll ever get, I figure.