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The stranger of the lake

Publié par : sensuelh le 16/08/2024

Friend reader, if you are also a movie buff, you will note the use of a film title which has similarities in many points with this story. I therefore venture to borrow this title which is set in a lake, a gay meeting place. It's around 1 p.m. and the June sun is generous. It's a Friday and I've finished my files for the week. So I can consider myself on the weekend. The weather and the time of year give me an irresistible desire to sunbathe, naked, on the secret beach of a large lake about thirty kilometers from my home. So I'm going to follow through on this desire. There are certainly few people at this time of year and this prospect suits me perfectly. I want to enjoy the tranquility of this place before it becomes a popular meeting place for locals and discerning tourists. I arrive on the path which leads to the beach where naturism is officially authorized... one less problem. The vehicle parked in the woods, I finish the journey on foot. I notice here and there a few cars and, arriving near the beach, two motorbikes. Well, I might not be alone but it won't be the crowd either. Here I am out of the forest and I admire this wild creek bathed in the sun. Indeed, I am not alone but I am still spoiled for choice in terms of locations. So I head to my right to reach the corner of the beach partially decorated with reeds. I like the privacy of this place and I often reserve it for myself. I take off my clothes quietly, counting on a little nap under the softness of the sun. Cap screwed on my face for a little darkness, my body languid on my beach towel, it didn't take me long to fall asleep. Thirty minutes, an hour... I don't really know. I am numb from my nap and I feel the heat of my body which did not fail to capture the rays of the June sun. I think my skin has already turned brown. I get up, a little groggy, to enter the cool water of the lake just to wake up a little. The water is clear, I can see my feet moving slowly into the lake and I slowly sink into the depth of the water. I have difficulty crossing the level of my thighs. Everyone knows that immersing private parts is always a little sensitive. My breathing stops and I lie down in the still very cool water. A feeling of well-being and freedom floods my body and my mind. I do a few swims to get away from the beach, the board and start a slow but effective crawl.I find myself near an island of vegetation where I like to relax in peace because voyeurs and other flirtatious people are often slowed down by crossing this small expanse of water which separates the beach from the island.Once my feet are on the ground, I go up to the sandbank bordering the island. I lie down with my body dripping on this rather fine sand, deliciously heated by the sun's rays. I lose consciousness once again and doze off again. A slightly cooler kiss triggers shivers on my skin, unaccustomed to nudity at the end of spring. I stand up and look at the beach that stretches out in front of me, on the other side of the strip of water that separates it from the island. A few guys are walking around on the beach, sometimes with their feet in the water, sometimes sinking under the foliage of the trees that have colonized the area around the beach. I notice a silhouette in the thickets. He's a guy of modest height, t-shirt, Bermuda shorts and cap. He seems to be looking for the few visitors of the day. The silhouettes cross paths in an incessant game, on the beach or under the trees. He doesn't seem to care. I go to the beach, once again facing the entrance into the clear but cool water of the lake. Ooh, it's still fresh but invigorating. I grab my beach towel, put on my glasses and lie down to dry my body which sparkles under the drops of water left by my crossing. The young man in Bermuda shorts and cap is in the ferns behind me. Some would say “He’s matte”. No problem and he's young and cute. I must just feel flattered that I'm still getting stares from guys younger than me. I put on my sunglasses, perhaps to give myself composure and to be able to see my visitor more easily. It’s clear that my presence interests him. What a shame not to enjoy the beach when we arrived here after a lot of walking in the woods! I lie down again to dry and warm my body. The sun has already lowered in the sky and it must be close to 5 p.m. I don't fall asleep this time. I think the feeling of being watched prevents me from completely relaxing. On the other hand, the few visitors pace the shore to get closer to my beach towel and undoubtedly try to attract my attention. No, none are to my taste and I didn't come for flirting. On the other hand, the wood sprite attracts me. How to do it, it does not approach the beach and remains half-hidden by the thickets. I'm dry now. I stand up and head towards the woods, just behind the beach and the reeds which already hide me quite a bit. I meander along the paths left by the comings and goings of the regulars, the towel casually placed on my shoulder. My elf, as I like to call him, is always nearby and moves away a little towards a clearing of white-barked birch trees. He stops behind a tree and dips his hand into his Bermuda shorts while looking at me.It is now a certainty, he is well aware of the lake's reputation as a place for rather gay meetings.I continue my progression under the trees and decide to reach a stone pier whose dead end path runs along the lake for around 300 meters. I will be forced to turn around at the end but I will be able to assess the behavior of the young man, a bit of a voyeur, by adopting this strategy. Either he turns back for fear of meeting me when I turn around, or we find ourselves “stuck” on the pier, inevitably close together in this dead-end path. I now tie my towel around my waist to hide as best I can an erection that this walk in the simplest device does not fail to trigger. I like the contact of the soles of my feet on the ground covered with moss, a few dry rotting leaves and humidity from the proximity of the lake. I carefully avoid large roots which make the path more or less uneven. I risk looking back a little and see that the boy has followed suit. So I progress with all the tranquility I can muster, towards the stone pier. I can now see it bathed in the sun. A naked man is already there. Ah, I hadn't expected this company. Too bad, if he is embarrassed, he will leave, otherwise, I would show my indifference. He sees me and adopts a detached, dreamy posture, scanning the horizon, arms crossed. I arrive on the pier. He gives me a look devoid of warmth and moves a little. So I pass him with a condescending “hello” then I advance on the stone wall, my eyes lost in the horizon. I sit on the low wall, the towel hugging my waist out of modesty. The guy walks away slowly, probably because he sees my dressed stranger arriving. I lean back, eyes closed and the sun bathes the front of my body and my face. It's good and exciting. I see on the ...

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Keywords : 100% lived story, Gay, Forty