still

when the tide turns, a big chunk of the water that
had been rushing out to sea, starts rushing back
toward the shore.  and vice versa: when the
tide turns again, a big chunk of the water that had
been rushing toward the shore, starts rushing
back to sea.  "slack water" is that
moment between the turning of the tides.
"slack water" is that moment when the
sea seems at rest, at least in terms
of the movement of the tide.  for
the sexy big-dicked beach-wandering young man,
slack water was the best time to spurt cum.
for the sexy big-dicked beach-wandering young man,
spurting cum at the moment between the tides
was just the bee's knees.  by daylight, he
had to be careful, standing in the water
up to his chest and pulling down
his swimsuit and jerking off at
precisely slack water, then pulling
his swimsuit back up before
emerging from the sea.  when slack
water occurred at night, especially
late at night, he didn't worry
about encountering anybody else on
the beach, and he brazenly walked
naked into the water, up to knee
level, and jerked off nice and
slow and spurted his cum there
in slack water in the darkness.
if asked directly why he liked to cum
at slack water, he might not
be able to tell you directly,
but he might mutter something about
the turbulence within him
juxtaposing so nicely with
the tranquility outside him.
he just liked the contrasts.
he just liked being a part of
the contrasts.  so,
whenever he could be there,
standing in the sea, at slack
water, he gave it his all:
the big slimy salute.

--Carl Miller Daniels (2009)