Under the Boardwalk

By Peter Schutes

Be sure to exercise your wrists before reading this book!

Harry Shore’s little problem keeps him from enjoying the camaraderie of the changing room at Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk. That changes when he meets Cleve, the hunky security guard with an enormous endowment and a penchant for small things. Beneath the boardwalk, they explore the limits of passion, sensuality, and anatomy.

Peter Schutes, the prolific author of the steamiest one-handed fiction, delivers the goods in this erotic novella that proves opposites attract.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Peter Schutes
• Release date: Feb 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215337837

Peter Schutes

Peter Schutes Publishing promotes "unheard voices" from all walks of life. In addition to the hypermasculine pulp-style erotica of Peter and his associates, the press seeks out authors with stories that need to be told. Erotic fiction pushes boundaries, as does transgressive fiction about LGBTQ+ issues and neurodivergence, the hallmarks of Peter Schutes Publishing.Peter Schutes is the nom de plume of a prolific and acclaimed novelist. As Peter Schutes, he is the author of Slaves of Rome, Dark as a Dungeon, The Gospel of Priapus, and Panama Heat. He writes in the style of vintage pulp authors from the 1960s and 1970s. He lives in Los Angeles.

Book preview

CHAPTER

ONE

Since he was old enough to stand, Harry Shore’s favorite place on Earth was the Santa Cruz Boardwalk. Every summer, he and his parents stayed at a motel near the beach called the Sandpiper Inn. He heard the sound of the rollercoaster roaring long past his bedtime. The room was lit by the flashing lights and neon glow of the amusement park. Despite many troubles and unhappy times, the weekend at the beach was always a sanctuary for Harry. It was something he could rely on for most of his childhood.

When Harry applied to UC Berkeley, he was deferred to UC Santa Cruz. His mother and father didn’t have a lot of extra money, so he was going to have to work. Like a fool, he chose to work on the boardwalk, thinking it would be the most fun anyone could have. He found out quickly that visiting an amusement park is very different from working there. His eyes were opened to the terrible people of the world who lived to make minimum-wage employees suffer. It was a rude awakening.

Even though he was nearly a man, Harry still had the skin of a child. Despite his name, he was hairless and smooth. He looked in envy at the boys around him whose chest hair had sprouted. He also had determined that he was less than gifted in between his legs. His hairless pubic mound was topped by a thumb-sized penis that hardened but never really grew.

Working at the boardwalk, you had to leave your uniform in your designated locker each night. This meant changing out of his civilian jeans and t-shirt at the start of the shift and changing back at the end. Harry wore boxer shorts to keep the mystery of his tiny penis from being revealed.

Many of the guys liked to shower before the shift. Harry wished he had the courage to join them, but he was too ashamed of his hairless body and tiny penis. To make matters worse, ever since puberty, he had stopped thinking about girls, and all his fantasies were centered around hairy men.

Lost in one such fantasy, he was startled out of his reverie by a colossal hunk of a security guard.

Oh, sorry bro. My locker’s right next to yours. Do you mind?

Harry shook his head and looked at the floor. The security guard stuck out a hand.

Name’s Cleve.

Harry.

Cleve guffawed. Not really living up to your name, eh? Cleve thwacked a meaty paw on Harry’s chest.

Harry looked up at his tormentor. The security guard wore thick horn-rimmed glasses. His hair was cut military style. His jaw was square, and his arms were like long, furry balloons with bulging biceps. A thick thatch of chest hair sprouted out of the collar of his t-shirt. Harry swallowed.

Cleve stammered. I mean, sorry man if that was out of line.

Harry smiled. It’s no problem. I’m probably too sensitive about it.

Cleve grinned. You hitting the showers? As he asked, he stripped off his jeans and t-shirt, revealing his gloriously furry muscular form. Cleve hitched his thumbs in the waistband of his jockey shorts and peeled them off, revealing a powerful set of glutes and a monster-sized dick.

Harry said, S-sure. Yeah. He let his boxers drop, waiting for more humiliation.

Instead, Cleve leaned in. God damn, I like the little ones. With that, he threw a towel over his shoulder and strutted to the showers, his massive dong swinging from thigh to thigh. Harry wrapped his towel around his waist and scampered after him.

They were the only two in the showers. Cleve waited for Harry to pick a shower head, then took the one right next to him.

Do you like to fuck? Cleve didn’t pull any punches.

Harry blushed. I think so, yeah.

Cleve said, Oh my god, are you a virgin?

Harry turned a darker shade of crimson.