I'd been watching them for a few days. Two guys live together in a beach house with a small strip of private beach below, right off their porch. Their house is very near the end of the public beach, and while at the beach I once noticed two men in full scuba gear wading out into the surf. Intrigued, I watched them go out, and come back an hour later. They placed their gear on the patio, then headed back down into the ocean, swimming around clad only in their wetsuits.
The next day, I returned to the beach at roughly the same time, this time with binoculars. Through the binoculars, I watched them head into the water in full dive gear, walking slowing in big, floppy fins. I watched them return and doff their gear, their soaked wetsuits glistening in the sun. The dusty brown-haired one wore a brightly colored yellow and lime wetsuit, with black fins and a yellow tank. It went well with his skin tone, which was either a very good tan or a natural skin tone for a Latino. His dark-haired, muscular white partner wore a black wetsuit sprinkled with dark blue, gloves, and a hood, with matching blue fins that he wore with no boots, the white heel of his foot clearly visible and in sharp contrast to the rest of his dark colored gear. I watched them return to the ocean after dropping their gear on the porch. It was hard to stop watching them; they were both so hot.
On the third day, I noticed something different. While the two hunks headed back out to the ocean wearing only their tight-fitting wetsuits, the dark-haired muscular hunk in blue suddenly grabbed his partner in a bear hug and took him face down onto the sand. After a quick struggle, he ended up on top of the other man, kneeling down on one knee and holding the other man's arms up by the wrists. The facedown diver struggled a bit, then apparently gave up to his more muscular partner. The two got up, and the hunk in blue patted the other on the butt. After a quick kiss, they headed off into the water.
Interesting, I thought.
I watched them off and on for a few more days, and established that they kept to their schedule like drill sergeants. The impromptu wrestling seemed to occur on an infrequent basis, but it was definitely not a one-time thing. I noticed other things, like the fact that they left a side door on their porch unlocked when they headed down to the beach -- probably assuming no one would cross the six-foot high wire fence separating their private beach and the public beach.
A few days later, the news announced that the beach was one of a handful being closed down due to some strange cutbacks by the county, and that the closure would only occur for two days. During that time, there would be no lifeguards actively on duty. I decided to use the opportunity to the best of my abilities.
During the first day of the beach closure, I went down to the beach a little early, and made sure that the two were still going to be diving. Sure enough, they did. When I was sure they were deep underwater having fun, I headed back onto the street and knocked loudly on the front door of their house. There was no answer. I proceeded to head back down to the beach. I carried with me a small bag containing the tools I would need. I tossed it over the fence, and it landed on the sand on the divers' private beach. Then, with a surfboard and clad in my own Body Glove wetsuit, I paddled out into the ocean, around the fence, then paddled back onto shore. I was now on the two divers' private beach, just a few steps away from their porch. I walked up to the porch and checked the side door. It opened easily. Everything was set.
I lay down on a towel with my surfboard lying next to me, and retrieved my bag. From its contents, I prepared a small handkerchief filled with chloroform. I placed it slightly beneath the surfboard, out of view. Then, I lay back and waited for the divers to return.
I didn't have to wait very long. One spotted me and swam back in, taking off his air tank and leaving it on the sand. It was the black-haired muscular hunk. He slipped his blue fins off and trotted barefoot up towards me, slipping his mask above his head. "Hey!" he called out in a nasty tone. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Oh ... like, I got really tired from surfin'. Is this private property or somethin'?"
"What do you think, stupid? There's a fence right there. Now get the hell outta here." The hunk had bright blue eyes that blazed intensely down at me. His partner was only now heading back onto shore.
I slowly got up, then reached down to pick up my surfboard and secretly took the handkerchief in one hand. "All right, dude, chill. You really must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed." I stopped and pointed at his partner. "What's wrong with him?"
The black-haired hunk turned to look down at the ocean, and I jumped behind him, wrapping my left arm around his neck while I placed the chloroform handkerchief on his face. I managed to surprise him, and at first, I had the advantage. Then, he elbowed me in the gut. I have to admit, it hurt. Luckily, my modest martial arts experience came into use. I tripped him and took him down to his knees, then forced him face down onto the sand, all the while with the handkerchief in place. I rubbed up against the tight outline of his butt as the hunk moaned softly and weakly struggled, then lay still. I removed the handkerchief and got up to a kneeling position, straddling the wetsuit clad hunk.
"Justin!" a voice cried out. The Latino in the lime and yellow wetsuit came running towards me as I lay on top of his partner. He had taken off all his gear now, save for his wetsuit and dive boots. He headed straight for me as I stood up. He telegraphed a punch, which I easily avoided. I kicked him in the gut. He doubled over and grunted in pain. I grabbed my surfboard and held it flat, then brought it down onto the diver's head and back. He fell face first onto the sand with a grunt, his head slightly near his now sleeping partner's head. I waited for a moment, but he did not stir.
Quickly, I looked to see if anyone had seen our encounter. There was a fence with some sort of plastic cover on it to the left, further away from the public beach, and it prevented anyone there from seeing onto this private beach. The public beach was nearly empty. No one at all was on it anywhere near me. I had gotten away with it.
I reached into my bag and produced a camera, taking a few photos of the sleeping couple, but not too many -- I had work to do. I lay the heavier muscular hunk on top of my surfboard, then his partner on top of him. With some work, I managed to use the leash as a line to pull the surfboard and its cargo up the sand towards their porch. Once there, I was safely out of anyone's view. Separately, I lifted them onto my shoulders then trudged up the stairs and through the side door on the porch, depositing them on the floor in the front room. The carpet was wet due to their drenched wetsuits and a good deal of sand had been brought into the house, having attached itself to their wetsuits and feet.
I quickly searched the house and found a bedroom with a king-sized bed and large bedposts. Attached to the bedposts were some leather restraints. Could this get any easier?
I returned to the front room to find the Latino on his knees, holding his head, turned away from me. Apparently he had come to. I quickly grabbed the handkerchief and applied it, sending him into blissful sleep again.
I ran back out of the house down onto the beach and quickly collected all of the dive gear that had been left there. A woman walking her dog on the beach spied me, but only looked once or twice, clearly uninterested. Once I had everything, I brought it back onto the porch, then re-entered the house. It was now time to get down
I approached the muscular hunk -- Justin -- and admired his sleeping form. I walked into the bathroom and returned with a wet washcloth and a small bowl of water, which I used to clean the sand off of his wetsuit and large, flat feet. I played with him for a while, snapping a few more pictures, enjoying his tight, firm butt and smooth soles, then turned him over and took his wetsuit off, leaving it hanging about his chest. I licked his chest muscles and nipples, and ran my hands over his ample package, clearly outlined in his wetsuit just as it had been in his partner's.
I dragged Justin into the bedroom and tied him up using the leather restraints. I took his partner into the bathroom and slowly stripped him out of his wetsuit, admiring his firm, tan body. Once he was naked, I bound his ankles together and his wrists behind his back. I ran my hands across his firm chest and down to his crotch, playing with his dick and watching it get hard. I then turned on the shower and got him cleaned up and washed off. I took a towel and dried him off, taking my time to feel his smooth butt. I began to hear loud moaning in the bedroom, and figured his partner had woken up.
I carried the nude diver on my shoulders back to the bedroom, feeling his breath on my chest and his groin pressed against me. When I got there, Justin had come to and was fighting to get out of the restraints. He demanded to know who I was and cussed at me. I tossed his partner to his side upon the bed, face down, with his face close to Justin's face. Justin began to ask what I had done to Randy, and if he was all right. Justin began to yell loudly for help.
"Shut up," I said, and I reached over and punched him in the groin. Justin cried out, but soon quieted down. "If you keep yelling, I'll knock you out again, and you won't be awake for the show." I produced my camera once again and snapped a couple photos of the two. Justin looked angry, and I noticed that when he was angry he was terribly sexy.
I began to unzip my wetsuit, taking it down far enough to expose my own manhood. I reached into my small bag and produced a handful of condoms. After putting one on, I got onto the bed myself and pulled Randy closer to me. I straddled him and prepared to have a little fun as I gazed down upon his tight bubble butt.
"What are you doing?!" Justin cried out. "You have no right --"
"I told you to shut up," I said, as I turned to the side and kicked out a leg, bringing my foot onto his face. He grunted and quieted down, his head hanging down and his eyes looking up at Randy and me.
"No one's ever done that to me before," he said softly. "Taken control." I looked over at him and noticed a sizeable bulge in his wetsuit, his dick straining to get out of its neoprene cover.
"You like it?" I asked, although I already knew the answer, as I grabbed the large bulge softly.
Justin nodded then added with a whimper, "Are you going to do Randy?"
I nodded. "And then you."
Justin shook his head. "I'm not a bottom."
I grabbed his dick hard and he grimaced in pain. "I don't really think you're in a position to decide anything, are you?"
"N-no, no sir..."
"What's Randy like having done to him?" I massaged Justin's package while I asked.
"He likes ... he likes to have his feet licked, but I don't like to do it."
I turned the still unconscious Randy around until his feet were by Justin's face. "Well, you're going to do it now, while I have my way with him. By the time I'm done, his feet had better have had the best washing they've ever seen, or else." I straddled Randy and looked back at Justin, who had begun to work on his partner's feet, looking up at me for approval.
With the chloroform nearby and two tied up hunks, it was going to be a very enjoyable afternoon.