An adult stories – At Whorey’s Piers by EmilyMiller
This is my entry for the Summer Lovin’ Story Contest 2023Life can sometimes be surreal. That was the thought that flitted across my mind as I stood beneath a giant, plastic pelican, catty-corner from The Blue Grotto, which was far less alluring than its name might suggest. Beneath my bare feet, a languorous, chlorinated flow was hemmed by faux rocks; its surface clogged by transparent toroids, some occupied by somnolent seniors, others, less serenely by skittish youths. Yet more were vacant suggestive of blood cells bleached of their color.
It was in the low nineties and the sun was relentless. In only a few days, my legs had turned a darker shade than at any previous time. Staff legs didn’t get a lot of cover in these parts. There were a number of uniforms. Supervisors in khaki shirts with royal blue shorts. Ride operators, for whom the khaki migrated to their shorts, topped with pale blue shirts. And then people like me. A red swimsuit, more at the athletic end of the spectrum than the exhibitionist. When beside, rather than in, the water, a shapeless light gray T. And — best of all — a matching red visor, emblazoned with “LIFEGUARD” in white. Sunglasses were not mentioned as being mandatory in the employee handbook, but they might as well have been.
Standing above the masses enjoying their summer vacations, I gripped my float, held my whistle between my teeth, and tried to ignore the various guys using my elevated position as a free upskirting opportunity. This was the Angry Torrents water park on Seafarer’s Pier, the middle of the three Whorey’s Piers, pride of Feralforest on the South Jersey Shore. And this was my summer job. Eden Baker, lifeguard.
I had spent a lot of time on The Shore as a child and had grown up with the piers. The original two had been opened in the early 1970s, the third being purchased from a competitor a few years later. They were owned by the Whorey family, with two second-generation brothers, Bill and Ted Whorey, still involved in the day to day management of the attraction. The piers were a popular choice for student summer jobs; being outdoors and relatively undemanding. Money was pretty tight for me and my folks. I’d stayed in state for college, but it still wasn’t cheap. Spending my summer working at Whorey’s was my way to contribute.
I’d started on Monday and a couple of female Whorey’s veterans, with whom I shared accommodation, had made veiled references to something that sounded rather like hazing. I’d managed to steer clear of such things as a college freshman, and I wasn’t exactly delighted at the prospect of being humiliated in front of my peers. When I expressed concern, I was met with giggles and told to wait and see. In a very abstruse comment, one of my friends said that I would get to choose my initiation.
It was now Wednesday and apparently the ceremony was scheduled for Saturday evening. It weighed on me a little, but I had other things to think about that day. Things that were 6’2″, beautifully toned, without being musclebound, and — most attractively in my mind — terminally shy. This was Caleb, a newbie like me and from the more rural parts of my home state. We had been assigned to the same pool on the Air Lakes water slide. I was looking forward to getting to know him better. And he looked good in swim shorts.
– – -The Air Lakes was a series of water slides, each ending in a suspended pool, from which customers entered the next slide. They sat on tubes, either single or double; yellow or blue. Caleb and I were in Lake One. Our job was to steer arriving customers to one of the two slides leading to Lake Two, plus helping anyone who capsized or got into any other trouble. It could be hectic, but there were hiatuses. Time enough to learn a little bit about my colleague. He was laconic, to say the least, but I persisted and he opened up a bit.
Caleb was going to a community college, studying something to do with agriculture. His parents were farmers and that was how he saw his future. I guessed that genetics had been kind to him, but that nature had been nurtured by hard labor from a young age. He had a physique with a purpose beyond simple mirror posing. I liked the idea of his sinewy arms wrapping me up. I’m stronger than both my looks and size suggest, and manhandling tube-born customers was pretty easy for me. But it was a total breeze for Caleb. His back rippled as he maneuvered two person tubes, and I could imagine him toting hay bales. I could imagine him doing other things as well.
I’ve never been shy, nor thought that the girl should not make the running. Frankly, with Caleb, if I wasn’t making it, there would be no running at all. He’d mentioned having a car, well an ancient pick-up no longer suitable for farm use. I casually suggested maybe he take me for a trip down the coast to Cape April. There was a stretch of undeveloped shoreline there, with a nature reserve behind, and I could remember thinking it magical at dusk when I was a younger girl.
Caleb’s reply might have seemed discouraging in someone more communicative, but I took his grunt to me “yes please, that would be great.”
– – -The park closed at 6pm. We both had to do a few things before changing and I agreed I’d meet Caleb in the nearby public parking lot at 6:45pm. I was happy with this arrangement as my preference was to keep my personal life, well, personal. I’d heard that there were many hook-ups at Whorey’s, but I didn’t want to fire up the gossip engine. Five minutes early, and wearing white board shorts and a sky blue halter top, I strode into the lot. It was still full with pier visitors, with more arriving. The evening rollercoaster crowd was assembling. Nevertheless I found a beat-up truck, matching the description that Caleb had given, pretty easily.
I clambered in and pecked Caleb on the cheek, which seemed to startle him. We immediately both laughed. He was wearing white board shorts and a pale blue T. Jinx! The ice broken, I suggested we get a snack at Gusty Gail just shy of our destination. Caleb nodded, started the throbbing engine, and ground the stick shift into gear. It was a twenty minute ride, and soon we were munching on nachos and Old Bay fries. We didn’t try to push our luck with ordering drinks, that pleasure was two years off for both of us. Anyway, Caleb, in a fit of loquaciousness, mentioned he might have something in the truck.
After he had pocketed a bottle of what looked like grain alcohol, we left the truck and walked down the boardwalk to the beach. It was now almost eight and sunset was thirty minutes away. Neither of us seemed to find it unnatural when our hands met, clasped and stayed that way.
– – -There were a few other people on the beach, mainly obvious couples. But most seemed to be leaving. We turned right and, pulling off our shoes, headed towards the nature reserve. A few people became no people after a couple of hundred yards. The sky above was pink. It was still warm, but cooling. I had an idea.