I became excited as I squirmed my way into my wetsuit. I always did. There was something about it that I found erotic in a very extreme way. It was one of the reasons I wanted to be a scuba diver. Even before I wore a wetsuit, I knew it had to feel great to wear all that body hugging neoprene. I also liked the way it looked. There is nothing like seeing another man or woman in a smooth, shiny wetsuit, either before or after a dive. It was the ultimate aphrodisiac.
As I slipped on my wetsuit and zipped it up, I felt myself becoming increasingly aroused. This was nothing unusual for me. It happened every time I dove. As I attached the beavertail, I gently rubbed my crotch region. Though I didn’t actually touch it, I felt my cock twitch aggressively. It was the most comfortable sensation in the world, wearing a two piece beavertail wetsuit.
I tended to dive by myself. This has always been considered a big no-no amongst the diving community, but I was always slightly embarassed by my tendency to get aroused during a dive. I enjoyed playing with myself underwater, and I didn’t really know how to go about finding a dive buddy who shared my perversion. Anyway, I felt confident in my skills as a diver. So long as I didn’t go too deep, I didn’t really need a buddy.
I slipped on my fins, then my weightbelt. I slid into my tank harness. Just then, I looked up, and saw another boat on the horizon. I couldn’t see who it was, but it was obviously another diver. I briefly wondered if I should be considered about him possibly catching me play with myself. Well, if he’s a voyeur, so be it.
I pulled my hood up over my head, slipped on my mask. With my regulator in my mouth, I rolled over the side of the boat into the water. I felt water dribbling into my wetsuit. For a brief moment, it was very cold, but it quickly warmed up to my body temperature. I felt my cock pulse agreeably as I descended into the water.
I kicked my way down to the wreck. I felt my cock growing hard in reaction to my body hugging wetsuit. I listened to the sound of my own breathing…ssss, hhhh, ssss, hhhh, which added to my arousal. I felt like James Bond penetrating a secret SPECTRE underwater base.
As I descended upon the wreck, I looked around. No other divers present. Not even the one I saw topside. I kneeled on the deck of the ship. I continued to rub my groin, feeling my cock growing harder. My heart rate increased. I always liked to take my time when I was underwater. There was nobody to interupt, and my orgasm always felt best when I didn’t rush to it.
Then suddenly I felt someone grab me from behind. What the..?! I felt two very muscular arms reach around me, pinning my arms to my chest. I felt myself being dragged down to the bottom. I tried to break free but couldn’t. I didn’t know who my attacker was, but he was far stronger than me. How he snuck up on me without being aware, I didn’t know. Neither did I know what he wanted. But something told me I had to break free. If I could.
But my efforts amounted to little more than squirming against this more powerful diver. I screamed for help, but of course, there was nobody here but the two of us. We twisted as we descended against my will. My heart pounded harder than ever before.
Finally we hit the bottom. The attacker rolled me over, and in one motion I found him sitting on me, his legs wrapped around me. He pushed down against the silt, with my tank making a slight thud as it hit the bottom.
As I continued to struggle, I finally got a good look at my attacker. He was wearing a full body, black nylon I beavertail wetsuit, complete with hood and gloves. I tried to claw at his mask and regulator. I hoped I could throw him off balance by dislodging one or possibly both. But it was no good. He was wearing a full face mask. That and his wetsuit hood left his smirking eyes the only part of his face visible to me. I suddenly realized I was dealing with no mere sport diver. This was clearly a military diver. A frogman. A trained predator. Trained to kill.
I suddenly realized that whatever this frogman wanted, he probably intended to kill me. I’d be left for dead, and it would probably be written off as a diving accident. Laying his hands on my tank harness shoulder straps, he pulled my face to within inches of his. I was afraid. Very afraid. But I was also very hard.
In fact, I was harder than I had ever been before. I didn’t know why, but being taken by this predator at 60 feet was making me hornier than I had ever been.
I then realized that he too was horny. I realized he was slowly grinding himself against me. He had a massive boner under that black wetsuit.
His eyes continued to smirk, as his hands felt my body, sliding up my arms, caressing my cheeks. It was very erotic, very sensual, but I was at his mercy. He knew it too. His thumb traced my lips. He slid one hand up on my regulator second stage. I twisted my head away vigorously. But there was no way to evade his reach. His hand slid along my regulator hose. He gave it a gentle tug. Not strong enough to dislodge it from between my lips, but enough so that I knew that he could do it if he wished.
As one hand continued to play with my regulator hose, I felt the other slide back and forth over my hooded head. I felt so humilitiated. I had allowed another diver to sneak up on me, to take me like a shark taking a guppy, and now I was being ravished by him. To add insult to injury, although it scared me to death, I was also enjoying it.
He began to grind harder, in smal increments. I began moaning as I felt pleasure course through my body. I could hear a low grunting coming from behind his full face mask, sounding more like a feral animal than a human. He then reached down between my legs with one hand, and started stroking my groan. Despite the neoprene seperating his fingers and my cock, it still felt as if his bare hands were touching my naked flesh. My cock pulsed massively as my back arched. He reached between my beavertail and my wetsuit pants and started stroking. He had one hand on my regulator, the other on my manhood. He was in complete control of me, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop it.
I felt his cold, smirking eyes burning into me. It was obvious he was loving it too. He knew I couldn’t stop him from molesting me. He was also enjoying my squirming as I fought uselessly against him. It was driving him into a deeper state of arousal.
I felt him pull me further into his powerful, neoprene covered legs. I tried to pry them off me, but to no avail. My heart was pounding, and I couldn’t control my breathing. He knew I was sucking down far more air than normal. He reached down and grabbed my tank pressure guage. After giving it a quick check, he shoved it in my face. I was down to 700 psi. We both knew this meant in reality I only had about 15 minutes of air, perhaps less if I couldn’t get my breathing under control. It didn’t matter to him. He a double set of tanks, and unlike me, his breathing remained calm and measured. Long after my air supply was spent, he’d still have plenty of air.
If I had thought he was being predatorial up until this point, it was only a warm up. I felt him undo my beavertail. I tried to reach down to stop it, but he tugged again my regulator hose. I knew it would be nothing for him to drown me. With my beavertail out of the way, only a thin piece of neoprene seperated my cock from his hand. He continued to grind against me, but now he also did something that he had only hinted at before. My head twisted and turned, trying to get away from his hands, but it was no good. I felt him tug on my regulator hose again, but this time, he he used more force. I felt my mouthpiece slip from between my lips.
I fought to regain control of my air supply, but he held the regulator out of reach of my hands. He positioned the moutpiece so the regulator would free flow. I watched helplessly as bubbles gushed from the mouthpiece. My eyes bulged as I saw my precious air supply being wasted. I tried to reach, but the frogman held me down. I felt his gloved hand slip a finger into my mouth. Then he slipped a second one. Then a third. I felt his fingers inside my mouth. And all the time he was raping me. As frightening as it was, the whole scenario drove me too into a deep state of arousal, one which I had never known before.
My body ached for air, the one thing I needed to survive on the ocean floor. I knew if I didn’t get it soon, I’d surely drown. I tried to avoid exhaling the air in my lungs, but I couldn’t help myself. Between an uncontrollable desire to scream for help and the involuntary reflex of moaning in pleasure, it kept slipping out. I pleaded with my eyes, knowing that this was probably his plan all along. If nothing else, let me come before I die. It seemed cruel to let a man die as he was on the brink of orgasm.
Then suddenly, he shoved my regulator back into my mouth. I grabbed at my regulator with both hands as I inhaled greedily. I felt air coursing through my body. Never before had I been so conscious of the need to breathe.
Then suddenly, his legs relinquished their grip on my torso, but only for a moment. He pulled my legs up so that my Achilles tendons rested on his shoulders. I hoped this might give me an advantage, but he had obviously planned this attack very carefully. Before I could make a move, he wrapped his legs around me again, this time with his finned feet in my face. If we weren’t both wearing wetsuits, he’d have been able to fuck me up the ass.
In a further act of humilation, he had somehow maneuvered us so that my head pointed downwards towards the bottom. As I looked up toward the surface, I could only see an ominious sillhouette, still humping me. And I could still hear the occasional primal grunt from him.
I could feel his groin ramming against my ass. I continued to moan. I tried to move his legs, but it was impossible. He was now humping harder and faster than ever. I felt his hands playfully sliding up and down my legs and onto my groin. He totally and utterly dominated me. I knew if I couldn’t break free soon, I’d run out of air and drown. This knowledge didn’t make me enjoy what was happening to me any less. This was truly the greatest sexual experience of my life, even if I was being raped, and maybe even killed.
It was then that he started very vigorously massaging my neoprene covered cock. I had never felt anything like it. I moaned uncontrollably as my back arched. I screamed into my regulator, “I’M GOING TO COME!!! I’M GOING TO COME! I’M GOING TO COME!!!!” And I did. I felt my rock hard and pulsing cock fill my wetsuit with warm jizz like a firehose putting out an inferno. I got goosebumps over single inch of my body as it shook in ecstacy.
He continued to pound at me. I was exhausted. After an orgasm like that, I was ready to die. I knew I didn’t have much air, no more than 5 minutes surely. I couldn’t fight anymore. I stopped squirming. My arms dangled limply as I felt him hump harder and faster yet. Then his body went rigid, as he moaned animalistically from behind his full face mask, louder than ever. I felt his legs tighten against me as I felt his cock twitching against my ass. Clearly, he too was having the orgasm of his life, as I couldn’t imagine it being possible to feel another man’s ejaculation through two wetsuits.
Finally, he let go of me. My spent, exhausted body sunk to the bottom, only a few feet beneath us. Every inch of me trembled as I collapsed in a heap. I rolled around, still feeling the last vestiges of my orgasm, the last twitches of my cock. I looked up and saw the powerful frogman, a black sillhouette surrounded by an almost god-like halo of light. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I knew that they were still smirking. I was sure he knew had given me the best fuck of my life. I then saw him swim off.
It was then that I remembered that I needed to get to the surface. It’s hard to explain, I still felt like I was coming, but some sort of survival instict forced me to push through the haze of ecstacy and surface. I knew if I surfaced too quickly, I would get an embolism, but I was conscious that I had only minutes of air left. And I’d need every single second to reach the surface safely.
I started to kick for the surface reaching with my arms like a swimmer doing the front crawl. I was exhausted, but I had to make it. I was conscious of being certain that I didn’t ascend faster than my exhaust bubbles.
I knew I was getting closer to the surface as I heard the pitch of the ascending bubbles change. Suddenly, though, I felt my air cut off. I had fully exhausted my tank. It was like sucking on a bottleneck: nothing came forth. I now had only the air in my lungs to get me there. I knew I had about another 10 feet to go. I had the urge to bolt for the surface as quickly as possible, but I also knew I had to fight that urge. Again my body ached for air as I forced myself to maintain the proper pace and kept going.
Finally I broke the surface. For the second time in one day, I inhaled air greedily as I had never before. Fresh air never felt so good.
I found I was only about 15 feet from my boat. Still exhausted, I swam for it, using my snorkel so I could keep my body below the surface (thus making my tank and other gear that much less tiring to swim with). As I climbed into the boat, I realized how physically spent I was. I had the urge to go to sleep right there, with my tank still strapped on.
Now safe, I felt a level of pleasure wash over me that I hadn’t underwater. As I undid my tank straps, I realized I had, in some way, just had a very close brush with death. Somehow coming back from the jaws of the dragon made me even hornier. I realized I was getting hard again.
I then wondered about the other diver. I sat up, and scanned the horizon. I spotted his boat. I realized he spotted me too, as he gave me a salute. Then he drove off. I laid back down in the boat. Unzipping my wetsuit, I started playing with myself. I never saw The Frogman again, and I never had a fuck that good ever again either. He proved to me I was a mere Frogboy, but I was alright with that. At least I could still climax underwater when I wanted to.
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