Vlogging seagulls flying across the sky, chaotic beach-banter white noise ambience behind him.  Dwight turned his camera to panoramically capture the crowds today.  It was a decent, warm winter day in this beach town that hadn’t seen snow in six years.  He’d moved here for that alone.  He was tired of the cold.  Tired of the ache in his bones.  There were college co-eds playing volleyball in bikinis - in November!  

One caught his eye in particular -  she had a tiny pleated skirt bottom to her bikini top.  Swirly hair, the kind of loose curl that was more wave and loop than the tight bounce of a curl, it was that weird hybrid color -  what was it again? Auburn? Something like that.  She had freckles on her shoulders, he exhaled harshly.  Suddenly regretting agreeing to do that stupid  ‘no fap November’ bet with his friends, he watched her play volleyball a bit longer before he felt the tightness in his trunks.  “Oh man….”

He knew the agreement. If he was going to break the no-fap rule, he had to film it, so they could post it up online as a shame video -  they had all agreed to it.  And Dwight wasn’t shy, none of his friend group were.  One of them had grown up in a fucking Nudist Colony for Christ’s sake.  

Running a hand over the bulge, he grit his teeth and pretended to wipe the sand off himself.  The beach was crowded,  it always was this time of day.   He turned over on his stomach,  taking out his phone.  He hit record,  secretly filming the volleyball co-eds and then he turned the camera on himself.   He held no delusions about his looks, he knew he was only slightly above average. He ran a hand over his salt and pepper hair that was long enough to be pinned back in a braid still.   

His hips started to press more than hump against the mound of the earth under the towel twisted under his body.  He glanced at her again,  she spiked the ball and laughed when the other player on the other side had to run after the ball. She had a bright smile. And someone on her team had called her Svetlana.  And they were speaking some other language as one offered her a bottle of water, she tipped the bottle back and drank large gulps, and with a soft hissing groan that made his eyes cross - Dwight felt himself cumming.  

He glanced at the phone camera again - lifting his body to show where the head of his dick that was peeking out of his swim trunks with a drool of sticky cum.  He rolled to the side, awkwardly cleaned off the mess on the towel, and shut off the camera - right when the volleyball bonked him in the back.  

“Oop!”  He laughed easily and set his phone down on the towel and went to pick up the ball,  right as Svetlana ran up to retrieve it. 

“Saw that spike earlier,  you’re pretty good,” he greeted in a friendly tone, hoping that he didn’t come across as weird that he was watching her. 

She laughed in an awkward way and shook her head. 

“No English. Sorry,” she said in an accented voice that was clearly the only English she knew.   She pointed at the ball and then pointed at herself.

“Oh, sure, of course, ~” he handed the ball back to her, she nodded or bowed her head in thanks then ran off to play with her friends again.   He turned back to look at the captured kiss of the horizon and the ocean -  it was that weird color kind of like the melting jizz of the sun being swallowed by the distant expanse of the ocean, like the auburn of Svetlana’s hair, and the crisp blue of her sparkling eyes.