BEACH JOGGING - Part 1

"BEACH JOGGING!"  PART 1 of 2

A STORY OF FICTION BY CATMAN

No one could ever accuse me of being vane.  I don't spend a lot of time in front of a mirror.   There's only a small mirror over my sink in the bathroom where I shave, comb my hair and brush my teeth.

When I ordered new furniture for my bedroom, it came with a very large mirror over my sleek dresser.  The first time I got out of shower and saw myself as I dried off, I was shocked.  I used to be in really good shape, but ever since I had discovered gay porn on the Internet, I had become a couch potato.  No wonder I hadn't picked up a trick at the bars in a very long time.

I wasn't flush with funds to join a gym again.   I opted for push-ups and crunches on my floor and jogging on the beach.  The beach is the best place to jog!  I live just a few blocks away from the ocean.  The soft sand is low impact on your feet and legs, and you don't have to dodge cars, avoid dogs, bicycles or people!  It didn't take long for me to get really toned again.  I felt good and thought I looked really good again.

Religiously, day after day, I donned my Speedo and headed off to the sand at 9 am  (Long ago, I had abandoned my gym shorts and jock strap.  I found them way too restricting for my runs)  In swim wear, I could jump into the ocean when I needed to cool off.

As I built up a lot of endurance in my runs, I distanced myself further down the beach.  There was an amazing house near the furthest point of my run.  The architecture was stunning! I would slow up, and usually pause, to just look at the house.

I was very curious about who would live in a place with an enormous covered deck and mid-century modern architecture styling.  One day, I came to a halt when I saw a stunningly handsome man sipping coffee on that deck.  He was shirtless, wearing just pajama bottoms.

God!  He was fucking gorgeous!  We just stared at each other for a few minutes.  He smiled, raised his mug in a salute and disappeared inside.

I made my turn and ran back down the beach.  My run ended, but I couldn't get that guy out of my head.   He looked very familiar to me, like I had seen him before.  He had model or actor good looks.  I racked my brains to remember where I had seen him before.

As I continued my daily runs, I encountered the same guy several times.   Usually, he was just standing on his deck wearing either boxers, pj's or a bathrobe.  Occasionally, I would wave to him and he usually acknowledged me in some way.

I looked forward to my runs on the beach just because of the possibility of seeing this guy.  Then one day, I saw him wet and naked laying on the sand near the surf.

I didn't have the balls to get within fifty feet of him.  I jogged back down the beach to my house and jerked off.

I couldn't get this guy out of head.  I fantasized about him day and night.