Our beautiful summer weather here on the Queensland coast is about to turn to custard with the imminent arrival of Cyclone Albert (it is just like a hurricane but spins clockwise since we are in the southern hemisphere).

My little rental unit is completely safe, old brick building that was built maybe 50 years ago.

But, a friend of mine has a unit down on the Gold Coast (about a 2.5hr drive south) which according to the latest ‘modelling’ is supposed to get the direct hit. My friend is away so has asked me if I would keep an eye on the place for him. Why not, it is on the 14th floor, right on the beach, so it should be a fantastic vantage point to enjoy the storm. Same deal, very old building so no worries about it falling down. I might have to tape up the windows if it really gets windy.

So I drove down on Thursday and the weather wasn’t that bad at all. Patchy sky, light showers, the ocean was roaring, but not like the ‘war zone’ that the media made it out to be. After I settled in I thought I’d go for a walk up to the end of the beach (15km up and back). There were a few people about but the further I headed north, the more deserted the beach was.

Although the beaches were closed for swimming, I noticed that the lifeguard towers were still manned. The walk up the beach was lovely and not long after I turned around for the walk home I checked my phone and, as usual, checked Grindr. I’ve had some success with Grindr on the Gold Coast and was looking forward to some fun while I was down there. Couple of speedo guys on there and I figured I’d see what I could find when I got back to the apartment. By logging on, I was telling guys that I was in the area and DTF (down to fuck).

Ten minutes later, I got a message on Grindr. It was a profile with no photo, which is a pet hate of mine, but the message had four photos attached. The photos were selfies of a guy wearing a red speedo in front of a mirror. His message said “You are close, you on the beach?” It said the distance was 500 feet. Looking up and down the beach, there wasn’t anyone within 500 feet of me.

I was intrigued ... it wasn’t the kind of day for hanging out in the dunes. “Just been for a walk up to the Spit.”

The reply was quick: “I’m a lifeguard, boring day sitting here on my own. I think I saw you walk past a little while ago headed up that way.”

“I love lifeguards! Want some company?”

“Would love a blow and go if you are keen?”

“I love sucking lifeguard cock! Count me in.”

“I can see you through my binoculars, I’m tower #69, climb up the ladder and I’ll be ready for your mouth.” Of course, it wasn’t really tower #69, I can’t share that of course.

He was right, the next tower was #69. Walking up the dunes, I could see the silhouette of The Lifeguard but nothing much else. I started climbing the ladder.

This was a first for me. Despite being a junior lifeguard growing up, we never got to go up in to the tower and I have to admit, this was a fantasy cumming true for me.

As I opened the door to the lifeguard tower, the view was better than any fantasy I had ever had! There he was, face me, spread eagle wearing just a red speedo and his cock was hard, stretching the lycra.