Erotic Stories from Wylde in Bed - Unveiling Desires: Part 1 - One Man's Discovery of His Gay Desires

Episode Date: August 31, 2026

You can enjoy exclusive and intense erotic audio by grabbing your copy of the Wylde Erotic App on the Apple Store.When tempers clash, hidden desires surface. Simon’s world has been turned upside down by his family’s recent move to a picturesque house near the beach. Eager to take advantage of his new surroundings before his bodyguard arrives, Simon grabs a surfboard and heads to the waves. But his attempt at surfing ends in a collision with an angry young man, sparking an intense confrontation. In "Unveiling Desires," Simon's accidental encounter leads to a heated argument that shifts into something far more electrifying. Seeking solace under a beach shower, Simon unexpectedly bumps into the same angry young man. As their tempers flare once more, the tension between them ignites into a ferocious passion, revealing a side of Simon he never knew existed. Caught in a whirlwind of raw emotions and newfound desires, Simon must navigate this uncharted territory of his sexuality. Will this explosive connection with a stranger lead to something more, or will it remain a fleeting moment of intense discovery? Join Simon on a journey of self-exploration and fiery passion, where every wave brings him closer to uncovering his true self. Dive into "Unveiling Desires" and experience a tale of unexpected romance, sizzling encounters, and the awakening of hidden desires. Note: This story contains mature themes and is intended for adult readers only. Let the tides of passion sweep you away. Download "Unveiling Desires" today and immerse yourself in a world of erotic discovery and unrestrained desire! 🌊🔥

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So get your butt on that bed. You know these stories are about to enjoy it on your story. your bed, put your earbuds in. Just take a nice, deep breath, let it go with a sigh, let all the stresses and strains of the week, just go, just relax. For the next half an hour or so, this is your time, your pleasure, so close your eyes. The hot midday sun burned at Simon's body as he not only smelled the brine of the water, but also tasted it. This was no gentle caress of a morning sunrise, but a fierce, angry and tormented furnace of a blazing noon sun in mid-August.

Even the shadow of his newly acquired surfboard offered little protection with its shade falling across his naked torso and offering little solace. Although Simon was desperate to avoid the glare of the sun, he was avoiding going into the sea even more. He had never been near a beach, let alone in the depths of the salty water, bone-crushing waves,

and the never-ending vast emptiness it became. But with Daddy's new position and the grace and favour home just across from the beach, Simon felt he had little choice, He knew he had to get used to it. With all the local kids his age, spending most of their spare time there, he refused to be seen as different. Not again, not after last time.

This was the price he paid for the luxurious lifestyle, the fancy homes, and enough money to pretty much buy anything he wanted. He had to blend in. He had to come across, average. With the crashing waves seemingly quieting as they danced against the shore, rising then falling, their roar doles to becoming a gentle whoosh sound. With the waves lessening, Simon watched as a teenage surfers deserted the sea and opted for the beachside bar that was designed to look like a Caribbean hut, of course with the benefit of electricity, seeing his

opportunity to avoid making a complete idiot of himself. Simon clicked the leg rope to his ankle, grabbed his surfboard and ran to the water to put this demon to bed for once and for all. Even with the contrast between the heat of the sun and the icy Atlantic water, bringing a shock of cold over his body that seemed to go all the way through his bones and had him gasping harshly. The chilled water nonetheless seemed clean, soft and gentle. In some way, Simon carried his surfboard out until he was wading waist deep in the water as it chillingly bittered his thighs,

looking far down into the deep, deep water. In the distance he could see a group of surfers, only floating on the top of the calm surface while presumably waiting for the waves to pick up again. Simon made a pact with himself to have this eerie fear of his conquered long before any large waves returned while staring at the floating board.

It suddenly seemed a lot smaller than it had when he'd carried it down the beach with the frigid water and the voice of caution stirring inside him. It was as if all his memories of the evening of the endless YouTube videos he'd watched time and time again. Had all been chased away in a raise from his mind. He couldn't remember a damn thing about getting started with surfing. His heart rate was quickening, his chest tightening.

But somehow, he'd had to get up on this board. He'd made a pact with himself. For the life of him, he just couldn't remember how. Simon inhaled a long intake of breath, his heart beating in his ears as he levered himself up on the board, only to promptly slip off the back end. Thankfully, the water was still shallow enough for him to regain his footing, leaving him only a little wetter and a little more embarrassed. Again he tried, this time grabbing the edge of the board as he lay flat, but it turned over, unceremoniously dumping him into the water.

Fuck, how the hell do people surf on these things And make it look as easy as one, two, three He cursed and cursed again, glaring at the board like it was the devil himself After a few more deep breaths Simon launched himself onto the board This time reading with defiant anger and backbiting frustration The board wobbled a little

But settled on the calm water Simon allowed himself to release the breath held tightly in his chest, carefully gently, hoping like hell that the small sudden move wouldn't dump him back into the sea. Slowly his memory was returning, the YouTube videos playing through his mind over and over again like a broken record. His hands moved from the safety of the board and began paddling at the water,

waiting for that perfect wave to come his way and return him to the safety of the dry sandy beach, hopefully in one piece. Frozen with excitement and adrenaline coursing through his veins when he felt that swell beginning to carry him forward. He relaxed ever so gently and let the wave carry him back to the shallows. Simon knew this was a good beginning,

a good learning curve. He knew he should return to the beach. But a sudden onset of madness had him doing just the opposite and dragging himself right back out into the sea, wanting to try more, wanting to try everything. Just as the YouTube video stated,

there was a joy in riding the water, a feeling of serenity. It was a rush like nothing he'd ever experienced. Ten, maybe 15 times, Simon watched his swells, waiting for the perfect one to come his way, repeating over and over his newfound skill, every time gaining in confidence, every time the adrenaline rush growing.

Unlike anything addictive, it was no longer enough. His spirit was soaring. He wanted to ride the big one that everyone spoke of. Going back out to sea, he mounted his board and paddled out even further, waiting patiently for that next wave. This time he would stand up on the board. He would conquer. He would succeed.

He would be triumphant and proud as he returned to the beach. Replaying those endless YouTube videos in his head, he knew just exactly what he needed to do. He could see himself doing it. He could feel it in his gut. All he needed was that one right wave. Seconds or maybe minutes had passed, when finally he felt it, the rise under his board.

The wave felt stronger, it felt larger than the last few, its raw sounding for the life of him like a roaring crowd, yelling at him and cheering him on. Each sound of the waves seemed to contain voices, voices that had adrenaline pumping ferociously through his body as he positioned himself. Ready to take this wave fully, ready to stand, ready to conquer. The waves motion surprisingly fast, carrying him forward at a bright-neck pace, placing his hands just so,

lifting his chest and popping one leg forward. Simon quickly stands on the board, keeping low at first so as not to shatter his moment of triumph. He focuses on the beach as the roll becomes almost deafening, with his heart pounding excitedly against his chest. He never sees the other surfers as he crashes into him, turning his border. River. Grabbing Simon's ankle rope, the surfer bends it in two, while glaring into Simon's eyes with ferocious hatred, burning in his sky-blue ice. Stay out of the fucking water until you can surf, boy!

He growls, then thrusts a diver's knife along his umbilical cord to the board, severing it. Simon clutches his board as it drifts in the tide, willing it to take him anywhere else but here as he watches the surfers paddle back into the sea and the afternoon sun. With the tide moving ponderously slowly as it carries Simon toward the beach.

The minutes seem like hours. It feels like it's been forever since he felt sand beneath his feet. Determined to maintain at least a modicum of dignity, Simon holds his board as he stands up, every movement of his body under the control of his will, power, refusing to allow himself the luxury of shaking from the nervous energy cascading through him.

He proudly carries his surfboard back to the little furrow he had made and stabs it with all the viciousness he can manage into the sand. Collapsing to the ground, he finally allows his nerves to get the better of him as a ferocious tremble moves over his body. Simon pulls his knees up to his chest Fuck But what the fuck just happened He curses

Simon was used to a bodyguard He'd never gotten into a situation such as this For the first time In a very long time He felt very alone And very scared He was almost anxious to get a new bodyguard appointed As the waves began returning

The draw was irresistible to the surfers at the bar, and the sea was once again awash with crowds of tanned and toned surfers. The Caribbean bar had emptied, with no one left inside now, but a few tenacious stragglers. Simon decided it was time for a drink. He needed something to calm his nerves, as he promised himself that once his body card was situated, he would return and show that mad dog what happened to someone when the mess was seen. someone the likes of Simon DeLacey. Secluding himself away in the corner of the bar,

Simon did his best to ensure no one noticed his existence. He barely remembered drinking the first large rumming coke. However, he did notice a sudden calming effect the alcohol had on his nerves, which had in drinking the next one at a much slower pace. He had a bodyguard to meet this afternoon, being drunk was not an option where the oppressive presence of a group of surfers appeared next to him the fragrance of the sea bit at Simon's nose

bringing the memories of earlier flooding back and then from somewhere in the thick of the crowd he heard it that voice aggressive intense domineering the image of angry blue eyes flashed through Simon's mind boring into his soul possessing his desire, lips full and powerful, intensity dripping from every pore

of his lean, bronzed body. As Simon's nerves trembled in submission, he was increasingly aware of goosebumps exploding over his body and a warmth climbing up his spine. A crawling tingle moved over his flesh and down his stomach, teasing between his sighs and deep in his groin.

This strange nuisance sensation was quite different to anything he had felt before. Fighting his emotions and these strange and unwanted desires, Simon discreetly made his way out of the bar, aiming to stay as inconspicuous as possible. He moved across a beach, heedless to the hot sand stinging his feet, but more than aware of the incessant and growing twitching in his cock,

that achy knee that he longed to suppress, Not again, please, not here, not now. Don't stand out. All of these things must remain hidden. A dark secret. With daddy's words echoing ominously through his mind and doing nothing to quell his growing painful lust. Simon hunted down the most private at the beach showers he could find,

needing to rid himself of these thoughts, wash away this lust, these desires, these needs that blowed through his body like a hot fire, with the majority of people still in the sea. The beach showers were thankfully deserted, flicking the water on a cool stream of water cascaded down Simon's body. God, he said in nothing more than a silent whisper, closing his eyes in an attempt to surrender to the smooth feel of the cool, purifying water.

With his eyes twisting shut, all he could see were those eyes, those lips, that tone body, his eyes, his lips, his bodies. Visions were burning through him, gripping at his stomach, thrusting firmly at his groin, Simon grabbed his growing erection with a ferocious desire, trying his damnedest to control this need, this urgency, this desire for another man that he didn't want to feel again, while resisting the tortuous urge to reach inside his shorts and relieve the ache and lustful thoughts burning through him, he wouldn't, he couldn't. It was too public, it was too risky.

Even though the other two stalls were empty, there was still a risk that someone could walk inside at any moment. This agony, this pain, this wildfire of desire would just have to wait. With agony and urgency dragging through his body, he pushed the kindle thoughts as far away from his mind as he could imagine, opting to focus on what to ask his new bodyguard as a way to mute the screaming voice, rampaging in his loins. You could get yourself hurt out there if you do that again. More importantly, you could seriously hurt someone else. Do yourself and everyone else a favour and learn to surf when no one else is

in the sea. That voice resonated through his body. low, forceful, domineering. No matter how hard he tried, his desires were dragging back to life, heartening his cock into what was now an aching and excruciating erection. It pushed hard against his shorts, the soft material, teasing at the very tip of him. Fuck, he mumbled in an agnising tone, easing his eyes back open while vulnerable, exposed, hard as iron underneath his shorts. As he looked up, clear, a blue eyes held his gaze for a moment, then slowly drifted over his lips and down his body and hard cock. Simon felt their intense crest through every nerve in his body as they lingered on

his swelling cock, as it incessantly pushed at his shorts, responding in submissive acceptance. The excitement got to you then. The surfer was grinning, his eyes hotly blue, something in the movement of his lips, helped promises of wickedly cruel pleasure, sadistic pain and callous lust in perfect, beautiful, equal measures. Simon's backstabbing cock twitched with every word from the man's thick pink lips. Fuck, those plump pink lips. Those lips are mine. Those lips pulling the hot come from my cock. As Simon dropped his head in coy embarrassment, painfully aware of the flush moving over his body. His eyes could do little more than focus on the impressive bulge inside the surface shorts. It was long, thick, the head of it just at the edge of his waistband.

Simon's cockaked, painfully, agonisingly to be touched, to be kissed, to be worshipped, as his gaze continued to linger. His eyes like a magnet that couldn't move. The surface erection was swelling even more, turning to still beneath those shorts, that, Simon longed to slide down over his ankles so he could fall to his knees, taste, worship, submit, shaking his mind of the mist of lust, clouding his judgment. He raised his head to meet this man's gaze square on. I, I, Simon stuttered, nerves and unwanted lust blurring its thoughts even more. Don't say a word.

Just drop to your knees and take my hard cock between those pretty boy lips of yours. The surface-controlled gaze had Simon dropping to his knees, his body responding quickly, willingly, submissively. Water streamed down his hair as he fumbled with the surface shorts. His hard cock erupting from behind the material and plopping against his firm, ripped abs. The weeping thick bulb at the end taunted Simon's lips as they slid over his silky warm cock.

His tongue teased and taunted, sliding up and down the firm long length that tasted like male mixed with brine, reaching between the surface thighs. Salman grasped his rising, swollen balls in his hand, his fingers reaching to find that special sensitive spot between his ass and balls. To massage it just the way he knew felt so fucking good. His cock responded perfectly. swelling to stone, stretching Simon's lips around its girth. Jesus fucking Christ!

Strong hands were clutching at Simon's dirty blonde hair, pulling his face onto his cock, his blue eyes glazed and dilated. Simon suppressed a gag as the thrust deepened and became more urgent, grasping the surfers' balls harder, massaging them, forcing his orgasm to grow, looking up over the ripples of his firm stomach, His head tipped back, his eyes closing the surfer completely under Simon's control in this moment.

Tears were stinging at Simon's cheek while the shower water ran down and over his body, all intensifying the growing hot fire moving through his body while he held the upper hand on this stranger. This angry, strong man was under Simon's control, every move of his mouth, every stroke of his tongue, inspiring a different reaction and taking closer to where he needed to go, where Simon wanted him to go. Aking hotly, Simon's own erection screamed with its own painful need. He slid his fingers around himself, stroking firmly, slowly, caressing up and down every hard inch, then lingering at the leaky tip, gently rubbing his thumb over that most sensitive spots and electric shocks racing through his cock, and he slowly drew his thumb down that short distance

to the ridge where his foreskin had once started, massaging it, while the surfer's cock filled his mouth. He continued to massage himself firmly, urgently and suddenly he could no longer withhold the deep guttural moan rising up his throat, which vibrated along the surface cock, deep throaty resonant. The surfer returned Simon's groan and began thrusting urgently, pulsing deep and hard, his cock convulsing his knees buckling slightly as his fingertips coiled through Simon's hair as the first drops of his pre-cum teased along Simon's tongue, sliding his mouth from the beautifully hard, beautifully pulsing cock. Simon watched it twitching in the afternoon sun for just a moment then looked up with his best seductive gaze.

Fuck me, he whispers, standing up and turning, dropping his shorts. Simon grasps the shower pipe for stability. Tentively at first, the surfer rubs his hands over Simon's ass cheeks. He then parts them slowly, carefully, and almost silent, fuck, falling from his lips, as he brushes a thumb over Simon's tight hole. Simon moans in encouragement as the stranger's hand quickly finds the perfect pressure

parting his cheeks exposing that most private place Simon turns his head over his shoulder use of hodwax for lube fuck this was happening there was no going back now it was all happening again reaching into the back pocket of his shorts

it retrieved the small tube and pushed his fingers deeply into the wax. Simon's feet almost left the ground, his ass trembling as two thick fingers pushed inside his cock throbbing and pleasure as the surfer probed a little deeper, scissoring his fingers, then finding his prostate with perfect ease. Simon gasped in wicked pleasure, his cocked stone hard, aching to come, his need to fill his ass full of the surface cock, almost overwhelming. "'Fuck me!' Simon cries in lustful desperation. "'Please!'

The surfer, while still silent and not speaking a word, feeds his cock gently into Simon's ass, stretching the fiery ring of muscle, just in the right way to take Simon closer to his needs, the initial pain, the anticipation of that pain, becoming provocative, beautiful, hot pleasure. The cock inside him trembling viciously as he thrust the second time, deeper, harder, pushing against Simon's prostrate and taking him to the very edge of sinful bliss.

The thrusts were growing harder, the surfer groaning in pleasure, as he gripped Simon's hips with his rough hands while pushing even harder, sending shudders through Simon's body. Christ, the surfer grasped at Simon's ask for stability, his uncovered bare cock exploding inside Simon and pulsing threads of hot cum, with waves of pleasure resonating. inside Simon. When the pulsing ended, he takes a slow step forward, and the softing cock slides out of him. His own cocks delakes with need, and the lust for satisfaction. Suck me! Simon commands,

misery and growing need, need, and growing need, needy and desperate, the urge to Orcassum was now overpowering any submissive tendency. The surfer drops to his knees, taking Simon's weeping cock in his mouth, sliding his lips, up and down its length, and relaxing into a hurried post-autasmic pace. Look at me! Simon whispers as his thighs tense, feeling an orgasm moving up through his legs. His muscles tensing with that wave of upcoming pleasure, moving higher, his balls lifting, tightening, throbbing as the wave of pleasure moves through his cock like a raging tsunami. Looking down, Simon holds his surface gaze and peers deeply in the way. into his wide and dilated pupils.

Ejaculate lifts up his erection, and his cock-pulsing threads have come so heavy that small drops seep from the corners of the stranger's lips. Simon's body trembles as a surfer ceaselessly licks away the last drops from his quivering cock. He releases him and begins moving his tongue up and down the softening length, kissing his tip, worshipping his balls.

Their gaze is glued together like cement. With the sound of growing voices, shattering the illusion at the moment, as the crowds begin returning from the sea. The waves were quietening again. Simon and the stranger both hurriedly pull their shorts up, then share one last lingering kiss as they gaze into each other's eyes for a moment longer. And then it was over. Standing under the flow of the shower,

Simon's legs continue to tremble. His cock still pulsing with the aftermath of pleasure. His whole aching to be filled again, stretched again, used again, as he watches the surfer vanish behind the Caribbean bar. Simon smiles smugly with a tinge of sadness, also threatening him, burning the shower off. He then remembers what he was meant to be doing. Shit!

Suddenly aware of the time, he'd play. plan to meet Daddy and his new bodyguard in an hour. But for the first time, Simon really didn't feel like he wanted a bodyguard around him. But he knew that wasn't a reality. Not with Daddy knowing his sexual needs and desires. Needs and desires his father found not only embarrassing. But unacceptable, Simon grabs his surfboard to make the short trip back to the house, where he knew his father would be rocking on his heels in his impatient. manner he always held whenever Simon wasn't prompt, which was quite a lot of the time. He had to figure something else, and he would. There was no way on earth he could live without

these moments. He was a gay man, and no longer would be ashamed of who he was, no matter what that meant. Anger blazed in his father's eyes when Simon walked through the door. With a tumbler of Scotch in his hand, he practically dropped it onto the marble table in front of him. You're late, Simon. Get upstairs and change. The bodyguard will be here shortly. Yes, Daddy. Simon replied obediently. The word Daddy suddenly uncomfortably sticking in his throat. His father insisted on being called Daddy. Dad or Pops wasn't acceptable in his world. Nothing but Daddy or Father. When Simon was younger, he decided it was some psychological trick to try and keep him under his thumb,

to make his son perpetually feel like a needy little boy, showering and changing quickly, which for Simon meant at least an hour of indecision over clothing, hairstyle, and any other damn reason he could find to avoid doing just what Daddy wanted. He eventually descends a wide-hook staircase. Through the panelled door of his father's office, he could hear voices of men talking.

Damn, he was kind of hope in the bodyguard, come chaperone, would decide that he didn't want the job after all. With his knock on the door echoing in the hallway, he reached for the doorknobs slowly, as his father responded with. Come in, Simon, entering the room. His lungs drained of oxygen, his head became light and confused as he stared into familiar ocean blue eyes. Oh fuck, his head without thinking. This is going horribly wrong. As you have enjoyed tonight's story, take one moment right now

and download the Central Awakening's app to ensure your ongoing pleasure free from the risk of censorship by the Puritan few. You can find the links in this show's notes or by visiting wildembed.com.