Carla

beach boy yuuji core yummy yummy yummy ….

he takes you for a walk on the beach during your lunch break, burgers from the local snack truck in this brown paper bag in one arm and the other reaching for your hand. there are probably kids from his surf class, who end up crashing your date and you don’t even mind cause yuuji is so good with kids, gentle and patient it makes your tummy do backflips so you don’t mind taking a seat in the warm sand n watching him do his thing with his students … who would say no to the show

yuuji taking off his shirt because he doesn’t want to get sweaty…gold honey skin catching in the warm hands of the sunlight. it shines… his chest big and plush, bouncing every time he skips up and down the little sandy volleyball court — that sea shell necklace he’s always wearing right around his throat that bobs with every gulp of water. his shorts oooo… his shorts are small and red and tight — squeezed around his thick muscled thighs and slender waist ….

if he’s playing with little kids from his surf class yuuji does a lot of dude for the ball, sand in his abs and dusted in his pretty pink hair — he hits the ball gently so that they can reach it and lift them up by their arm pits to hit the ball over the net. if yuuji plays with teenagers, he takes it more seriously to train them up — grunting and hissing with every slap of the ball across the yard, he flexes every time his team scores, does that big sexy yell guys do when they’re winning i think it’s very fun and competitive and he winks back at you every time.

the teens start teasing yuuji about how he’s showing off for you sitting back, laying on your tummy on your beach mat. probably talking about how hot you are and yuuji starts giving them noogies between plays. when he’s done he bounds back over to you, shirt loose around his neck and you’re already opening your soda up for him to gulp down — liquid seeping out of the corner of his mouth, down over his Adam’s apple.

yuuji has sand down his back, his hair is pink and sweaty and he smiles at you like he’s still catching his breath. you can’t help but throw your arms around him, hands mapping all over his muscled body and back as you kiss him like you want to consume him. tongue tackling his over his teeth, your fingers twisted in the roots by his scalp — moans poured past his lips as if to replace gus breath.

he tastes like cherry cola and sun cream. “what was that for?”