The Beach Is Magic

The secluded cove of Tānetanga Beach was looking a bit more lively nowadays. The once under-the-radar spot had gained a new wave of admirers recently, thanks to the wonders of social media. Its unspoiled sands, and mysterious workings were drawing in people from all over, and singing its praises. Which is why Jordan just had to drag his best bud Lamar away from their tour group while they were in the area.

"Even if they notice we're missing, they're not going to wait for us, you know," Lamar moaned as they pushed through the overgrown foliage that lined the wanderer's path to the cove. "They're gonna leave us stranded at this dumb beach with no way back to the hotel. My mom's gonna kill me if we're not on that bus..."

"We have a whole hour before we have to worry about that, "Jordan reasoned, trying to sound reassuring. "Trust me, It's going to be worth the detour."

"Right, because TikTok says the beach is magic," Lamar grumbled. "How do you know they're not fakes? Do you ever see anyone changing?"

"Well, no... But why would they make it up? And practically every single account that talks about it gets deleted! You should really check out r/Tānetanga, you'll-"

"Nuh-uh! I ain't checking out no Reddit about some conspiracy theory!" Lamar complained, trying to stand his ground, but Jordan didn't wait. With a roll of his eyes, he bounded after his friend as the beach came into full view. There are several men spread out around the cove, taking in the sun, wading in the waves. "Woah, those guys are naked," Lamar noticed, turning to avert his eyes from the sight. "This is some nudie beach! No wonder those TikToks are being deleted. We should definitely not be here..."

"Relax, it's all part of the magic! You'll see." Jordan dumped his bag on the sand, and stripped down to a pair of speedos that could have been mistaken for tighty whities. "You said you wanted adventure. It's better than some stuffy architecture tour, right?"

Lamar stared dumbfounded at his friend, not even dignifying that with a response. Jordan merely shrugged and bounded towards the ocean, leaving him alone. He looked around, noticing a few men looking in his direction, expectantly. He felt a shiver up his spine. Realising how much he didn't want to be left alone, he threw his shirt aside and begrudgingly followed his friend up to the ocean. His feet tingled underneath the warm sand in a not entirely pleasant way. That tingling only increased as they waded into the ice-cold, blue waters. He gave Jordan a pat on the shoulder, then asked, "Okay. So what happens now?"

"We wait!" he declared loudly, his voice deeper than usual. "Can't you feel it already? That surge of raw power sinking into your skin? Filling you up with unbridled testosterone?

"The only thing I feel is stupid," Lamar grumbled under his breath. He turned back to shore, looking out to the several dozen men who dotted the secluded beach. It felt like they were all staring at them. That same shiver ran up his spine at the thought. It was clear to him that they were unwelcome on the beach. He turned back to Jordan, and shook his head. "I can't do this, I have to-"

Before he could finish, Lamar felt something heavy hit the back of him, sending him tumbling into the water. Another large wave swept over his head, engulfing him in a torrential whirlpool. He swam this way and that until he managed to break free of the waves with a desperate gasp of air. He scrambled back to his feet, and rubbed the water from his eyes. The first thing Lamar noticed was the black mass that hung down into his vision, smeared across his forehead. He yelped, and reached up to swat away whatever seaweed he'd gotten draped in, only to freeze. It was attached to him, but it couldn't be. He ran his hands over the top of his head, his heart beating fast as he felt long, kinky curls thread between his open palms. It wasn't seaweed, it was hair. So much hair, more than he'd ever known in his life. "What the fuck..." he uttered under his breath, half with dread, half excited. This had to be a trick, there was no way Jordan was right about this beach. There was no way he had become a man.

 

 "This isn't happening," he muttered aloud, his silky, baritone voice resonating through his chest, and only further freaking him out. That wasn't a pimply teen in the midst of puberty, it was the voice of a grown-ass man. "Mmmm... It's happening..." He dropped his hands to his face, his fingers quivering as he felt the short beard that covered his cheeks, and hid his squared jaw from view. "Jordan's not gonna shut up about this..." Finally, he allowed himself to look down to his body. His eyes widened. He had muscle upon muscle, bulging biceps, rounded pecs and a pair of sculpted abs. He had chest hair that served to better accentuate the shape of his chest. Even his brown skin was more stunning than when he was a teen, with a noticeably healthy glow. But most importantly, he had lost his trunks in that powerful wave that had knocked him underwater! He instinctively reached down to protect his shame from prying eyes, only to yelp in surprise. He couldn't help but notice his dick had gotten bigger. Far bigger. Almost embarrassingly so. It bobbed about under the water, like a snake slithering through grass. He crouched further under the waves.

"This is too much..." Lamar groaned. He shook his head clear, his natural Afro hair bouncing against his cheeks and brushing his shoulders. He'd always wanted to grow it out, but his school had strict guidelines regarding hairstyles that prevented him from growing it out more than a few inches. He grinned as he bounced his hands through his hair. Ms. Turnpike would hate it, that was for sure! And, of course, Jordan was going to be so jealous. Speaking of whom...Amongst all the excitement, he'd almost forgotten the boy who'd dragged him to the beach in the first place. Carefully, Lamar waded out of the ocean and back towards dry land. He cupped his dick as best as he could, needing both hands to properly shield the girthy beast. He tried to think unsexy thoughts, doing his best not to get an erection. He'd had enough attention drawn his way already without putting a proper weapon in hand, after all.

Lamar looked around, trying to spot Jordan. It would have been easy if he were still a teenager, but if he had also grown into a man, then any of the beach inhabitants could have been him. There had to be a way to spot him. Something distinctive. Lamar heard someone call his name. There, someone waving in his direction. The guy was wearing those ridiculous white speedos that Jordan had insisted on wearing. Even from this distance, Lamar could see the pink bulge of his genitals pressed against the tight, translucent fabric. But as he closed the distance, he began to have second thoughts. Surely this couldn't be Jordan. The man looked... Well, different to him, to say the least.

As Lamar stumbled up to the man, a head taller than himself even with the hair, he grinned and threw his arms wide. "Mar! It took you long enough." Jordan joked. "You're not exactly difficult to spot in this crowd of white men."

"Is that really you? Shit, you're so... Grown up... You look like someone's dad."

Jordan chuckled heartily. "I guess that's one way of putting it," he said with a scratch of his stubbly chin. There was a stark contrast between the two men. While Lamar was a young buck in his twenties, Jordan had to be well into his forties at this point, with a lean build, and a dusting of dark hair that clung to his damp body. His heavy salt and pepper stubble was joined by an impressively thick mustache that hung over his upper lip. If he were twenty years younger, his beardstache would have been the height of fashion. But paired with his expansive forehead and rugged skin, it only made him look more old fashioned.

But Lamar still couldn't wrap his head around the age discrepancy. He scratched at his own beard, saying "What happened? You're so old now, and I'm so much younger than you! It doesn't make sense."

"I'm not that old. I don't think I am, anyway..." Jordan rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "The beach has the power to make anyone into a man. Old, young, in-between. There's no rhyme or reason to it. I knew there was always a possibility, but I had to take the risk." He stopped, noticing Lamar's reaction. A subtle look of pity. So he added, "But I'm okay with it! I'm happy, even. Because we're both men now. And I was right about everything!"

 "Okay, I get it. I should've had some more belief..."

"Although I have to say, I'm a little jealous of the 'fro. Especially when I have this predicament." Jordan tilted his head forward, and rubbed a hand over his receded hairline, where a slim band of severely thinning hair was all that stubbornly remained atop, a large bald spot resting at the very back of his scalp.

Lamar suppressed a laugh, instead giving his friend a friendly slap on the shoulder. "I didn't want to say nothing, but I knew it. It's bad enough being old, but losing your hair too? That won't be me!"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm practically bald now. But on the plus side, at least I'm not fat. I may not be Mr. Muscle like you, but I'm in decent shape! I also pack a decent package, though, again, it's nothing compared to yours." Lamar blushed, forgetting that he was baring it all to the world. Jordan laughed at his reaction, and nodded towards where they left their bags. "Don't worry," he chimed. "I brought some stuff with us, because I knew we'd need it. Because this was a magic beach, and we've magically become men!"

"Yeah yeah, no need to brag about it, old man."

"I told you, I'm not that old!" Jordan yelled, chasing after Lamar as they bounded back to their belongings.

While Jordan dug through his bag for their spare change of clothes, Lamar dug through his own bag until he found his phone. He switched the camera on, and held it in front of him, cooing at his appearance. "Damn!" He growled at his reflection. "I look fine as fuck!"

Meanwhile, Jordan peeked over his friend's shoulder with curiosity. He rubbed his dense stubble with an impressed smile. "Hmm, I look pretty good for my age. I think it suits me. Makes me look mature. Distinguished, even."

"Don't beat around the bush. You look old."

"That too," Jordan added with a chuckle. "I'm a little past my prime, but as I keep telling you, I'm not unhappy." He puffed his chest out a little with pride. He wanted to be a man, and he was definitely a man, bald spot and all.

"Whatever you say, daddio," Lamar joked as he finally got dressed. Yet even now, his shorts moulded around his monster of a cock. He sighed, there was going to be no hiding that. But why would he want to deprive the world of his beautiful body? With that in mind, he tied his shirt around his waist. Now that he had the physique of a warrior, he was going to flaunt it for all it was worth. Jordan, meanwhile, dressed a little more conservatively befitting a man of his age. He left the top buttons of his shirt open, allow a tuft of chest hair to peek through. Lamar looked back to his phone, and said, "Well, we have another 20 minutes until the bus leaves. If they even let us on, that is."

"As long as we have our tickets, I doubt they'd even notice. Besides, that coach was full of folks my age. What's another balding, middle-aged man to them? You though? They might be suspicious of a male model trying to board their rickety coach."

"Well they'll be so blinded by my perfect looks, and my rock-hard abs, that they'll practically beg me to jump on board!"

The two men laughed together, gathering up their belongings and walking back towards the forest that separated the cove from the main beach. But not before another two young lads crossed the threshold, bickering to each other about conspiracies and magic. Lamar shook his head with a chuckle. It seemed like there would always be visitors to Tānetanga Beach, believers and skeptics alike.