Afloat

The water’s cooler than the air above; the surface rises and falls against his side, wetting it, and then retreating. He has become a floating beach, tasted repeatedly by the salty waters. He bobs gently as the water sloshes side to side, still moving from the cannonball he made when he jumped in. It takes so long to settle back down to stillness. So long to return to normal.

He breathes in, and feels his body rise up a little…then out, and sinks back down. Every action only temporary: undone by the next. His cock juts upward: hard, impressive. The sun bakes it, warming the erect flesh, maintaining his arousal. He could live here, he thinks. He could float here forever, in limbo, unable to change or move on, but also unwilling to. This could be a life. Couldn’t it?

He shuts his eyes, and dreams.