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This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design: Selena Kitt
Getting Wet in the Mall © 2009 Kenn Dahll
eXcessica publishing
All rights reserved
Getting Wet in the Mall
By Kenn Dahll
On a business trip to a well-known South Florida city-home to many theme parks, I stayed in a hotel with a conference center connected to a large mall. I have always enjoyed the place as I could combine lodging, business, shopping, and cruising without using my car and have had many wonderful sexual encounters during my stays there. This is how my most recent one morphed from a casual flirtation in a clothing store to a full-fledged bitch fight and orgy in my hotel room.
Skipping an afternoon breakout session at the conference I was attending, I went for a walk in the mall and circled around to my favorite spot, a teen-oriented clothing store with an indoor ‘wave’ where patrons could try their hand at surfing. The wave is in a glass enclosed area with water running up-hill under pressure, creating resistance on surfboards and allowing a reasonable facsimile of ‘riding the wave’. As you can imagine, the store attracts twinks by the shit load. However, the performance nature of the spectacle makes looking at them okay. Skinny surfer dudes with clinging wet shorts and you can stare all you want–a voyeur’s paradise, although, as a well-preserved and in shape twenty-five year old, I could be mistaken for a patron.
That afternoon, one of the staff members who work the wave was using a rope with a tow bar to teach a couple of young boys how to surf. The boys were way too young to be of interest, but the around twenty instructor was dazzlingly attractive. Long, shaggy sandy blond hair topped a super thin tanned body. The brown shorts he was wearing, wet and plastered to his body, gave the false impression of nudity when I first spied him from the store entrance. I almost tripped as I walked in before I realized it was only an illusion. Up close I could make out the low-slung waistline of the shorts, mainly because the shorts abruptly stopped the line of light brown hairs descending from his navel. In back, an inch of butt crack was visible over the shorts, which were molded over his smallish but very rounded buttocks. He must have been wearing a very low slung jock, no waistband was visible but neither was there any outline of cock and balls in the front of his soggy shorts.
I was able to observe all of this while leaning on a circular rack of t-shirts. I made suitable chuckling noises whenever one of the young boys fell to cover my ogling of the older instructor. Once, when he turned away from me to help one of the students out of the water, his shorts slipped further down on his ass and I inadvertently gasped.
"Quite a show he's putting on." I heard from a little to the right and behind me near the t-shirt rack. I turned towards the voice and was greeted by a broadly-smiling, thin, blond twink, about nineteen years old; with medium length curly hair and the most luscious pair of lips I have ever seen-picture the current porn star ‘Sammy’ and you'll get the idea. I smiled back at him and turned towards the wave cage figuring he was referring to the instructor's surfing ability, not his display of ass crack.
A couple of minutes later, I heard the voice again, sounding even closer. "I bet you'd like to see me in tight, wet shorts." I turned to face him. His hair was falling across his forehead in a wave resembling the bill of a baseball cap but with an upward flip at the end. The curl was located above a pair of sparkling pale green eyes. The eyes and his smirk told me he knew what I was looking at and why.
"Give me twenty dollars to cover the fee and you can watch me in the next session. It starts in ten minutes." As he said this I felt a hand on my left ass cheek which was partially concealed by the rack of t-shirts. The hand gently squeezed my buttock as the blond made his pitch for the cash.
"Nice ass," he muttered.
"What the fuck?" I thought and I pulled out a twenty and slipped it into his hand-the one not feeling up my butt. The twink went to the cashier and paid for the session then he walked back towards me.
"I've got to go change into some shorts I brought in case. Be over by the door at the back of the cage and I'll give you these clothes to hold for me. I don't trust the lockers back there."