Chapter 8: Day 7, Runner
Although the strip of beach behind my bungalow is private, I see the lifeguard running in a morning’s fine spray of summer rain. He is only twenty feet beyond the verandah; a few yards away from my beach world.
Once again he wears his copper-colored trunks, barefoot and bare-chested, and sports his chiseled body for my meager pleasure.
Immersed in his activity, I study his beauty from afar. My stare takes him in from head to toe. This time I am positioned at my sliding glass doors in the kitchen: hair hangs over his beaming blue eyes; muscled shoulders and stomach flex with every move he makes; nicely sculpted pecs rise and fall as he runs; hairy legs and his beautiful trail of hair between his taut navel look delicious; Lycra trunks hug his narrow waste. He loo
