What follows is a work of gay erotic fiction including graphic depictions of sex acts between men. If it is illegal in your locality, if you are underage, or if you do not wish to read such material, stop now. The characters are compared to, but do not represent, actual living persons, and no implication as to the behavior or sexuality of anyone is intended.
AH, NATURE!
When I rented the cabin, I specified that I wanted isolation. I wanted never to hear a truck engine, rarely if ever to encounter another human, nothing to mar my solitude and quiet for the full two weeks. It was fine with me that the site was primitive. I could deal with having to draw my water from the well. The open fireplace would warm me if the nights were chilly. The few refrigerables I had would keep just fine immersed in the cold spring nearby. The rest of my supplies were canned or dry-sealed. My only companion would be Mikey, my big black and tan Gordon Setter. Do bears shit in the woods? Well, so would we.
It was late afternoon when we arrived, and by the time I had unloaded the pick-up and Mikey had thoroughly investigated the area and chased every squirrel, it was only an hour or so before dusk. Surely no one would be around out here now. So I stripped off my clothes, wondering if I could manage to go a full two weeks naked in the forest. It would be worth a try. I built a little fire in the wood stove and made my meal, steak and potato because the meat was most perishable of my supplies. But while the stove heated, I made a trip down to the spring with my milk, bacon, cheese, and eggs in a sealed container and sank them, weighed down by a large stone, in the cold water. On the way back, I picked a handful of blue, yellow, and white flowers for the table. Primitive does not have to be deprived, after all. I set a table on the wide plank porch, and soon Mikey and I settled in to enjoy a fabulous meal as the sun set in a blaze of color and the night sky emerged in its true deep space colors, untainted by the glow of city lights.
Dining al fresco and au natural in the deep woods does have some drawbacks. After dinner I had to spray myself all over with insect repellent to keep from being sucked dry in a way I do not enjoy, by blood sucking bugs. And the late June evening did begin to cool off soon after sunset. At first, though, I liked the sensation of cool air on my bare skin. The light breeze caressed my body gently, stirring the hairs on chest and legs and pubic triangle rather sensuously. The insects of the forest began their rhythmic cadence.
I sat on the porch and drank in the fresh cool air and the night noises of nature until the chill bumps all over my body finally drove me within the cabin. I built a fire now in the fireplace and lit the oil lamp on the table. Mikey stretched out on the bare floor and sighed while I settled into the rocker with my book. It didn't excite me. Before long, my hand descended to my crotch almost of its own accord, and my fingers began to twiddle at my pubic hair and caress my balls. My dick responded to the stimulation by expanding and stiffening, rising out from my groin at a 45 degree angle. I gave it a couple of strokes and was encouraged by the height of sensation I felt. I had been too busy even to jerk off for days recently (one reason for this outing), and I decided that spilling some jizz would be the ideal way to spend my first night in the cabin.
I walked over to my cargo bag and took out some essential supplies: lube cream, well-used Jeff Strykker model rubber cock, porno mag, and cock ring. I slipped the cock ring over my dick and pulled my balls through it one at a time. Now they hung forward proudly. My cut cock swelled to its eight inch majesty at my touch and remained rock hard, swaying provocatively as I moved. I opened the mag to a layout of a particularly hot, blonde young man posing in a variety of tantalizing positions and laid the spread on the floor before the fire. As my eyes moved from photo to photo-- the guy baring his cute little asshole, pumping his big uncut dick, lying back invitingly with cock up to his navel--I teased my own hard-on gently, savoring the exciting stimulation.
I really wanted some of that big dick. I reached for Jeff's simulated cock and balls and fell to my knees, placing the dildo in front of the photo layout and licking at the rubber dick-head. Mikey rolled his eyes at me, having seen all this many times before. The rubber did not have much for flavor, but the size and shape of it were enticing. Keeping in practice, I hoped, for future deep-throating of the real thing. I rode up and down on the rubber model while my eyes drank in the photo model, letting my imagination fill in the gap between the two.
After awhile, I greased up the dildo with lubricant and set it up on the front edge of the rocker. I applied some of the lubes to my asshole as well, and turned. Moving to another page of the magazine, this one of a lithe, slender, almost hairless olive-skinned model, also uncut but massively hung, I began to sit down on Jeff's erection as I imagined myself sliding into the lap of the cute dark-haired young stud. I plunged up and down on the dildo as I stroked my own raging hard-on, moaning with pleasure. Before long, I was spewing abundant milky semen over the floor, across the magazine, narrowly missing poor Mikey. Afterward, I sat back on the big rubber cock, taking it all the way up my ass, resting my butt on its firm rubber balls. I rocked and shifted my weight around, enjoying the sensation of fullness in my colon. My dick dripped onto the chair and floor. I was about as satisfied as a man can be while alone with his dog.
Mikey and I spent an uneventful night after that. I slept surprisingly well considering my unfamiliarity with the night noises of the woods; I was amazed how much rustling and chirping around there was outside. In the morning when I awoke the sun was already an hour high. The fire had died completely in both stove and fireplace. I restarted the stove and headed down to the spring for bacon and eggs, stopping to piss into the bushes and take a dump across a fallen tree several yards off the trail.
After one of those amazing campfire breakfasts, I put on river sandals, stuck a pair of running shorts and some sun screen into a small pack just in case, and set off to prowl over my domain. I did indeed have a huge area of woodland all to myself. There were narrow, obscure trails leading from the cabin clearing in various directions, but no trafficked hiking trails around. Just a couple of hundred yards from the cabin was a rocky, swift-flowing creek, still quite high from the spring run-off. There were numerous narrow rapids with low waterfalls and multiple channels joining large, quieter pools, some of which must have been six or so feet deep in the center. These would make great trout waters, and I soon returned to the cabin to get my fly rod and flies, intent upon fresh grilled trout for supper.
So I spent the next two days, naked fly fishing in the stream until I caught my supper, wandering through the woods savoring the peace and quiet, and never putting any more on my body than sandals, fishing hat, sunscreen, and insect repellent. I stood bare- legged in the creek until my feet became numb from the cold, then moved up onto a rock for awhile to cast. In the warm afternoons I would lie on a sunny rock slanting up from the creek bed and, whenever I felt too hot, I would slip into the water to float about on the current for awhile. Then back in the sun for natural drying and now-pleasing warmth. It was almost heaven. At no time did I ever see another living soul, and neither Mikey nor I had any awareness of being watched. Later, I found out we were, though, for much of the second day.
The spy was a young hiker, off on a solitary holiday like myself, except tent camping. On his fourth day out, he had his tent pitched about a mile from my little cabin. As unaware of our presence as we were of his, he set out hiking along the little trail that paralleled the creek, moving upstream and looking for interesting scenes to photograph. Since I, standing bare-ass naked in three feet of water, was casting upstream, and Mikey was exploring upstream also, neither of us saw or heard the guy as he walked among the bushes and trees on the bank behind us. He got within thirty yards before he saw me, either. But then he stopped abruptly and backed up into the cover of the branches a little, checking out the scene before him: a six-foot tall, strong and slender, dark-haired, smooth, and tanned twenty-five year old naked man fly fishing in the cold creek (picture Keanu Reeves with a little more chest). He moved behind a fallen tree that extended over the water, crouched behind it, took the camera with its zoom lens quietly from his pack, and settled down to watch--and photograph. The flowing water made ample sound to cover the clicking of the shutter.
When I found out about this later, I couldn't help but blush, thinking of what I had done under the gaze of that lens. I was more em-bare-assed when the photos were developed. I caught two trout within half an hour, placing them in my creel and immersing them in an eddy of water at the edge of the creek. I turned facing downstream, stepped up onto a log, and pissed into the water, arching a thick golden stream from my plump, dangling dick. I lay face up on a slanted slab of rock, soaking up the dazzling sunlight over my entire body while my audience of one soaked up close-up images of every square inch of me, especially my crotch. The heat of the sun caused my scrotum to relax, my sizable balls hanging low. My cock also began a downward expansion, and I encouraged it by giving it a good massage. Before long, I was flogging it with great abandon, shooting my jizz all over my stomach and the rock beside me. After a dip in the creek to cool and wash off, I lay on my stomach, legs spread wide, exposing my rounded ass and its tight hole to zoom-lens photography. Late in the afternoon, I even sprang up onto the far end of the log I had pissed from, turned to face downstream, squatted, hugging my knees, and shit over the edge of the log, beside the creek bank and into the lens of the camera. It looked for all the world as if I were deliberately exhibiting myself to the photographer, when in fact I did not even know he was there.
Now I am rather proud of that first photo spread, and of the others that Jason (that is the hiker's name) has made of me and us together since then. He sold that set to a very popular gay skin mag, and I have found myself a minor celebrity. It is amusing and affirming to notice guys watching me now, not as they used to do, but with an different kind of interest and curiosity, then the certainty of recognition and a little thrill of excitement. Occasionally, I even have one come up and ask me if I am "the August Guy." A few have thanked me for the great ejaculations they have had while looking at my photos, just as I have had while looking at other hot guys' layouts. Then they scan me as if their mind's eye can see right down to the bare skin right then and there. I have found it fun and sexy.
At the time, though, it took no imagination at all for Jason to gaze at the bare skin of me. All he had to do was hide and watch. It was gratifying to learn later that he, too, like so many others, had responded to the image of me with admiration and lust, dropping his leather shorts to the ground and stroking his own big piece of meat into a creamy lather of ejaculate, not once but twice as he watched me. Then, when I headed back up the slope toward my little cabin, Mikey sweeping the terrain twenty yards ahead of me as setters do, he crept along at a discrete distance to see where we went. Then he laid low at the edge of the clearing and watched as I bustled about cleaning the trout, disposing of offal, building the fire, preparing dinner, and dining on the porch--all the time stark naked. Before he left that evening he knew that I was alone but for Mikey, that I went about nude away from the creek as well as in it, that I was probably pretty horny, and that I was every bit as hot looking as he.
The night was another quiet one, well, boring, really. I had a few scotches and read my book by lamplight until pretty late. Then I slept, blissfully unaware that encamped much closer to me now was a man who would change my life forever and for the better, and beginning the very next day.
Mikey and I arose early, as one does in the wilderness. We had our kibble and oatmeal, respectively, for breakfast. Then we attended to the few morning personal and cabin-keeping chores that were necessary. Then, tired of trout for a while, I left my fishing gear behind as I headed along toward the creek, still naked as usual, and this time not even bothering to carry emergency clothing with me, only a little kit of trail snacks, sunscreen, insect repellent and, remembering my dry meat-beating the day before, my lubrication cream. I was going to hike upstream further than I had been yesterday to see what more the creek had to offer further from my usual fishing holes. Just as I approached the creek bank, Mikey, ahead of me as usual, let out one warning bark and stopped overlooking the creek, nose sniffing and tail wagging. I froze for just a moment and then crept stealthily ahead to see if I could make out what Mikey was so interested in. Jason and I caught sight of each other at the same moment. I have engraved on my mind that first image of him, half-turned in my direction, fly rod in right hand raised in mid- cast, eyebrows arched quizzically and good-humoredly at Mikey--and just as naked as I. Then his glance focussed on me, there was the slight pause as my nakedness registered, and then the smile of relief and welcome to a perfect stranger (as I thought then.) (Here, picture Brad Pitt from A River Runs Through It days, sans fishing clothes.) Now he turned to face me squarely. My eyes went directly to his crotch, then scanned his torso and returned to his face. As much like Brad Pitt as he looked, he was much better hung than the photos of Brad on the Web would seem to indicate, with a very promising- looking schlong hanging out of a moderate patch of brown pubic hair. His waist was narrow, with tight rippling ab muscles, just lightly scattered with short, sun-bronzed belly hair. His chest was not pumped up, just molded in that sexy, youthful, masculine way of a young guy who is so blessed by the gene pool that he doesn't have to do a damn thing to look fit and gorgeous. But that smile! I was hooked like a hungry trout from that first moment.
"So, I see we both got word of the dress code in these parts," were Jason's first words. I was speechless, unable to respond. But he filled in until I could get my wits about me. "I thought I was all alone out here. It seems you had the same idea." He gestured toward my naked midsection.
I came out of the trail onto the sandy creek bank as Mikey rushed up to Jason to greet him with much sniffing and wagging. I wished that I could walk up so forthrightly and just lick his balls as Mikey did. But I showed more restraint, just offering my hand and my name, Kyle. It seemed strange, two naked young men civilly shaking hands in the wilderness as if in an office, but we had no social experience for such a contingency. The natural place for our hands to gravitate would have been to each other's dicks, but we lamely shook hands instead. We shared the basics about ourselves: what we were doing there, what our plans for the day were, how long we had been there, what we had done so far, what we did in our workaday lives.
"I admit I'm tired of trout now, too, after four days on the creek," Jason said. "Would you like to walk up to the waterfall and swim there this morning?" The waterfall, it turned out, was a small one, not one to draw crowds, and only three-quarters of a mile upstream, just where I had been heading really. I readily agreed. Jason sat on a rock to slip his feet into his boots. I turned my head to whistle for Mikey, who had gone prowling across the creek. As I turned back toward Jason, I just caught him staring appreciatively at my genitals, giving them his winning smile. That was all the encouragement I needed to take on the hike with this new companion with enthusiasm and optimism. We slung packs over our shoulders and set out.
Jason walked briskly in the lead, an experienced hiker's stride, with me close behind. He was very comfortable with his nudity and swung along at an easy pace. Every time he stepped up onto a rock or bent to slip under a low limb, I was treated to a very quick glimpse of his asshole and swinging balls. I stayed close so as not to miss a shot.
As great as Jason looked from the front, he was almost as gorgeous viewed from behind. His long, sun-streaked light brown hair hung onto his shoulders. His back was smooth and tanned, descending in a strong vee shape to his wonderfully narrow waist. His butt was his crowning glory from the rear. It was pale below a sharp tan-line, which belied any notion that he had been running around the creek naked prior to this morning, and except for a swath of short, light golden hair in the crack of his ass, it too was smooth. The roundedness of Jason's buttocks was exquisite. They beckoned me to reach out and caress them, but somehow I restricted myself to fifteen minutes of constant ogling until we arrived at the falls. If Jason couldn't feel my laser eyes boring into his butt, he was nerve damaged.
The water actually "fell" only about five feet, but it was enough to stand under and to create a pool some twenty yards in diameter and maybe twelve feet deep at the center. On the far side there was a sloping slab of smooth rock that the water flowed across rapidly at this time of year. Later, no doubt it would be dry. There was no sign of anyone around.
Jason dived right in, and not knowing what else to do, I followed. We swam and splashed in the cold water. Jason was quite the playful one. He was the first to try swimming under the waterfall and coming up beneath it, as well as sliding down the rapids on the side. With a foot of water rolling down the rock, that proved to be a fun ride. Soon we tried going down in tandem, with Jason sitting behind me, his legs on either side of mine. It excited me to feel his pubic hairs against my butt and his arms around my waist as he drew himself close to me. The slide didn't work as well sitting up, though, so the next time he lay back in the water and spread his legs-- I lay my head back on his lower abdomen, his tantalizing dick at the back of my neck, and wrapped my arms around his smooth, hard thighs. Down we slid, winding up with heads down and feet up at the end. We came up laughing and spraying water. None of this was very conducive to cock-watching, however; the cold water shrank both of us up into Vienna Sausage versions of our former selves.
It was too cold to stay in the water longer than half an hour or so. By now, in our process of flirtation, the precedent had been established that touching was OK, so when we came out to warm in the sun on a tilting slab of dry rock, I offered Jason some of my sunscreen and felt free to apply it for him, starting with his back. He obligingly lay on his stomach on the rock jutting out of the water, and I began to smooth the lotion on: shoulders, then back, then butt. He didn't flinch. I rubbed and caressed gently at the buttocks I had so longed to touch. Jason simply sighed pleasurably. Then I moved down the backs of his thighs and calves. "Turn over," I ordered as I reached his ankles. He turned.
Jasons' body was strong and slender all the way down, but not heavily muscled. His natural skin tone was pale, but his sun-exposed areas were beautifully tanned. The scant hair on his chest was sun-bleached to a reddish golden color. On his stomach the light scattering of hair was yellow gold. Then the pubes were suddenly brown, untouched by sunlight. Within that dark patch grew his luscious cock, just beginning to recover from the shrinking chill it had suffered within the cold creek water. His furry balls were drawn tightly up in their sack. I began to smooth lotion onto his chest, then his stomach, loving every stroke. Jason considerately closed his eyes to allow me the liberty of looking at his body openly as I spread the sunscreen. I think he peeked a little, though, to see where I was looking. I was looking everywhere, in a visual ecstasy that before long began to have an effect on the dimensions of my dick.
I did not know quite what to do when I reached his pubes. For the moment, I by- passed that enticing area and moved down to the light-brown-haired, muscular thighs. As I spread the lotion over them, though, the question arose of how close to rub up the insides of the thighs towards his meaty crotch. He answered for me by spreading his legs wider apart, making room for me to work. His dick dropped down between his thighs, resting on the cute, furry balls. I rubbed and caressed right up to his balls. Eyes still closed, he smiled. Then suddenly I tired of this whole charade. "Fuck it!" I said, either to myself or aloud, I don't know. I leaned forward over his groin and took his dick into my mouth.
Jason flinched involuntarily. His eyes popped open and his smile erupted into a wide grin. "Man, I'm ready for that!" was all he said. And he settled back to enjoy, and watch me enjoy, my sucking him off.
His dick warmed up to my wet mouth quickly, expanding well beyond anything I would expect the real Brad Pitt to be able to offer. It made a thick, meaty mouthful, about the same size as my own, and likewise cut. I swiveled around to kneel between his legs so that I could fellate him comfortably and see his torso and face at the same time. Jason obviously got off on watching my face go up and down on his own stiff dick. He smiled and watched with appreciation and joy. Likewise, I enjoyed watching his expressive smiles.
It was an opening suck-off of marathon proportions. Though I rode him like a lamprey eel, and he writhed and groaned with pleasure beneath me, it took me half an hour to bring Jason off. I had almost begun to doubt my skills by the time he began to gasp and spew his jizz into my mouth and throat. (Later, he admitted that he had jerked off during the night several times in his sleeping bag, having visions of my naked body cavorting at the creek the day before.) I continued to pump him and swallow every spurt and dribble of cum until the flow completely stopped and his dick began to soften in my mouth. I always enjoy that time as well as the hard sucking. I like the feel of the spent organ lying limply and vulnerably in my semen-drenched mouth, and a surprising quantity of love-juice leaks out then.
Finally, I rolled off of him and moved up beside him on the rock. He leaned over and touched my cheek affectionately and appreciatively, wiping off a solitary drop of his cum where it had run from my mouth. Then he leaned forward and began to french-kiss me, tasting his own semen spread throughout my mouth. Soon I felt his hand wandering along my ribs, across my chest, fondling and then pinching gently at my tits, then tracing the center cleft of my muscular abdomen over my navel and down to my pubes. He rubbed my hip and slid his hand across my thigh to caress my balls, all the while tonguing my mouth deeply. Then he grasped my ready cock and began to milk it tenderly.
Since I am not a habitue of bars and clubs, it had been a while since I had experienced this kind of sex play, and I trembled with pleasure and anticipation. Jason continued hand and mouth stimulation just until I could scarcely stand it any further; then he began the slow oral descent down my body, stopping to kiss my Adam's apple, my neck, my nipples, my underarms, my navel, and every geographic feature he found in between, his hand simultaneously fondling my balls gently. Finally, he grasped the root of my cock in his lips and tongued it all around, and then began the climb upwards, using lips and tongue to massage and caress the full length of my proud, straight penis. His fingers probed at my perineum and tickled my asshole. My legs spread wide to receive his attentions. At last, he gained the summit of my erection and began to slide up and down on the head and shaft of my tingling cock, taking it deep into his mouth and down into his throat. I could feel his throat muscles clenching around the plump head of it like a band. Now it was my turn to experience the pleasure of watching his beautiful face ride my big, hard dick. I thrilled at the sight of my own rounded cock-head profiling itself in his handsome cheek. Now I gave him my most dazzling and appreciative smile in reciprocity.
Such a heaven of warm, wet sensation! I held out as long as I could, not nearly as long a ride as Jason had given me. Within ten or twelve minutes I could contain my fluid no longer; I let loose with an abundant ejaculation of my pent-up reproductive juices to choke his gullet and run down my shaft from his mouth.
Patiently, Jason swallowed and proceeded to lick up and consume every drop. He was not at all shy about sucking and licking the hairy groin at the base of my cock to clean it all up. Obviously, like me, he enjoyed the aftermath of a suck session just as much as the intense part. He kept me inside his mouth until I had completely deflated into a satisfied and happy breakfast sausage of prick. My smile was permanently affixed to my face.
Jason now lay atop me, his knees together between mine, crotch to crotch, chest to chest, much of his weight on his elbows, but a pleasing pressure of him on my pubic bone and chest. He kissed me again deeply, this time tasting of my own musky secretions, as earlier I had of his. Our abundant young semen mingled within our mouths and cemented a bond between us. After a while, Jason spoke of practical matters. "Are you a top or a bottom?" Getting right down to the bottom line in a relationship. I told him honestly I love both roles, while admitting to a special fondness for the bottom position. He smiled that winning smile and was quiet for a moment. "Would it be too perfect if I love both but just slightly specialize in the top?"
"Let's wait a while, though," I suggested. "We're both done in just now. We could fuck each other half to death and never get anywhere!" We both laughed, and quickly agreed. We would swim a little longer, then go to my cabin for sandwiches and beers for lunch. It suddenly occurred to me that the shady fern glade I had discovered not far on the other side of my cabin, secluded and off the trail, would be a great place for an afternoon fuck-tryst. I told Jason about it and he heartily concurred.
We stretched, and rolled into the chilly but invigorating water, washing away the residue of love juices from mouths and genitals. Now we played more intimately in the water, swimming around and under each other and holding each other like lovers, which of course, we had become.
In a little while, we came out and sat in the sun again a few minutes to dry. Jason put his socks and boots on while I fastened my river sandals. We picked up our packs again and set out for my cabin, this time with me in the lead. My ass is worth serious close-up study, too, I thought, as Jason hiked along right behind me.
When we were less than half way back to where the trail to my cabin branched off up the hill, we suddenly caught the sound of voices ahead of us. I snapped my fingers to catch Mikey's attention, and the three of us scurried off the trail and dropped down behind bushes out of sight. I gave Mikey the "down and shush" sign, and he settled beside me panting. Immediately, two young male hikers appeared on the trail, walking at a brisk pace and talking quietly, occasionally laughing. One was dark and short but attractively slender, the other tall, broad-shouldered, lanky and brown-haired. They wore denim shorts, boots, tee shirts, and caps. They were oblivious to our presence, and heading in the direction of the pool we had just left.
Had we stayed there fifteen minutes longer, would we have wound up in a foursome, or would we have grossed out two straight guys to the max? Jason and I were too enraptured with one another to care at this point. We smiled at each other, reading one another's thoughts. When the sound of them died down, we resumed our walk up the trail, reaching my little undisturbed cabin without further incident. Jason retrieved his fishing gear from the bushes as we passed by.
At the cabin, I made tomato sandwiches, set out fresh fruit, and opened chips. We both walked down to my spring to retrieve a couple of cold beers. We lunched together naked on my porch, savoring the food and drink, but I think savoring the sight and sound of one another just as much. Afterward, I rousted up a sleeping bag to spread among the ferns, a couple of pillows, and my battery-operated boom box, with CD case. With more beers from the spring and my pack containing the insect repellent and the love cream, we were both pretty loaded down as we set off by another trail to the spot I remembered. It wasn't very far, and luckily I guessed correctly on the first try which grove of trees surrounded it.
It was an idyllic glade, almost totally circled by a screen of leafy trees and shrubs which gave it complete privacy and a sense of a room. Even the sky was visible only in a few little glimpses above, making the glade deeply shaded. The ferns rose lushly knee high all over it. Jason stomped heavily around in his boots (with enthusiastic help from Mikey) to give any hidden snakes plenty of warning to clear out. Then he tromped down a path toward the center of the clearing and began to look for sticks and stones under the area the sleeping bag would cover. That done, he spread the bag fully open in a large square, and I settled onto it, setting up the boom box and the other supplies off the edge. I put on a low-key CD, kicked off my sandals, and lay back on a pillow. Jason lay back likewise, leaving his boots on. Mikey, satisfied that we were staying put, trotted off to annoy the squirrels for acres around us.
At first, Jason and I just lay there, listening to the quiet music and watching the leaves dance above us in the light breeze, and the stray shafts of sunlight that filtered down among them. Then we turned and looked at one another with mutual satisfaction and longing. In a few minutes, we just naturally began to move together and reach out for each other. We began kissing much as we had at the creek, with Jason taking most of the initiative as befits the more active partner, but with me being far from passive as well. It pleased me that Jason paid so much attention to kissing and petting and did not, as so many guys do, get right down to genital business. We got around to genitals soon enough, though, each one reaching down to caress and stroke and fondle the other's beautiful cock and balls. Both swelled quickly into full erections. The kissing and petting continued, with increasing moaning and grunting noises.
In due course, Jason began to move more and more on top of me. I felt his thick, hard cock pressing into my lower abdomen, right alongside my own. The pressure became slowly rhythmic and stimulated my dick as well as his. He licked at my tits and kissed my ears and neck with passionate abandon. Then he reached over to the bag nearby and took out the jar of lubricant. He knelt between my legs as he took off the lid and scooped out two fingers full. Then he raised my balls with one hand as he plastered the stuff onto my waiting asshole. It felt cool and welcome. I opened myself to his penetration as I felt his middle finger enter my anus. It circled and massaged, enlarging the entrance as my sphincter relaxed for him. He scooped more cream and slathered it upon his love-pole as I watched with prurient interest, desiring him intensely now. He knew I was ready, and he leaned forward to place the fat head of his swollen manhood against my eager orfice. His hips clenched as he pushed himself forward, and, without further ado, thrust deep into my gut. He lay his head beside mine, rested his chest on mine, and began to pump me, as my legs wrapped around his hips and my ankles crossed above his butt. Deeper and deeper with every thrust he went, until the full length of his mighty dick was digging into me on every downward plunge of his strong, rounded hips. For just a moment the pain seared into me like a hot poker. Then it subsided into pleasure as I relaxed completely to him and accepted the ebb and flow of his undulating intrusions into the depths of me. I felt the rigid rim of his cock head as it dragged across my nearby prostate gland, producing a delirium of delight.
Jason fucked me as thoroughly as he had earlier sucked me. He settled into a rhythm for the long haul, rutting deeply and rapidly on my tingling ass. After a while, he shifted and lifted one of my legs over his torso so that he could hunch at me partially from the side. I liked feeling the tickle of his pubes against my butt in that position as he drove his big sport vehicle into and out of the dark garage. Then, after five minutes or so of that, he rolled me over onto my stomach and sprawled atop me, still driving into my asshole as if he were trying to force his whole being inside of me. While I lay inert, he flailed away atop me like a desperate bug dancing on the end of a pin. No matter how he twisted, rotated, bent, and lifted, always we were connected at the pelvis, his rock-hard, driving cock imbedded in my ripe, welcoming ass.
At the last, he wanted me over on my back again so that he could kiss me as he came. My legs wrapped around him again as he plunged deeply into my guts. He was slick with sweat, as was I (mostly his), and he panted breathlessly. If he did much of this kind of fucking, it could account for his terrific state of physical fitness, for he had gotten quite a workout. Still, his open mouth reached out for mine, and his lips enclosed mine lovingly as he soundlessly pumped me full of his slippery man-milk. His eyes closed, he moaned a little, softly as he tongued my mouth, the pace of his thrusting slowing down below. Soon, he was finished, sweat-soaked and exhausted, unable to rustle up another drop of semen if his life depended upon it. Luckily, it didn't, for I had had my fill for a while, as well.
We lay panting, enjoying the light breeze tickling at our sweaty skin, silently savoring the moment. If ever there was a time when I regretted quitting smoking, this was it, but neither Jason nor I was addicted to the evil weed. We just caught our breath in silent appreciation. I changed the CD, and popped beers for us both. Jason drank deeply and rolled over onto his stomach, propping on his elbows. His beautiful back still glistened with tiny beads of the sweat of his exertion.
Now his firm, tantalizingly round buttocks beckoned me again, and this time I did not try to resist. I set my cool beer can first on one bun and then on the other. Then I pressed it between his mounds, cooling his asshole and the back of his scrotum. Then I leaned down and began to french kiss his ass much as he had done my mouth earlier. I poured a tiny trickle of my beer into his crack and then licked it up; then, with my tongue like a scoop just touching his asshole, I poured another trickle so that it ran down his crack and across his asshole and down my tongue into my waiting mouth. Jason was highly excited by this maneuver. He trembled as my lips clasped again around his anus and my tongue began to slide inside. His lifted his butt to my attentions, rising to his knees.
This made his entire rear section open and available to my kissing and licking and fondling. I felt up his heavy, pendulous balls, massaging them as they swung beneath his ass. I mouthed his entire perianal area, accompanied by his moans of pleasure. After several minutes of this pleasant activity, I scooped some lube cream and applied it liberally to my target area and to my own well-drilling equipment. Gently, I pushed Jason's hips back down to the ground and climbed aboard. My hips pressed downward as I guided the head of my boner toward its point of entry. The sphincter expanded around it and engulfed it. My cock eased inside, gradually disappearing within the depths of Jason's rump. His moans slid up an octave, and his breathing became panting for a little while as I rested my pubic bone on his coccyx and began to raise my hips, withdrawing most of the way from his body; then my direction reversed as I slipped back into him again, spreading the lubricant smoothly and widening the entrance gradually and gently. Soon, Jason's moaning resumed its pleasure-song, and cued me that the time was right for faster and harder fucking, which I immediately commenced. Now he assured me in words that that was, indeed, what he was wanting, begging me to thrust harder, deeper, and faster. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders strongly, flexing my muscles from neck to thighs, firmly grasping him as my hips increased their tempo and their range of motion, slamming him hard with my big, full dick.
I gave Jason as good a fucking as he had given me. Again, we slid around on one another's slick, wet bodies as I continued hunching him, always connected at the pelvis. At last, I felt the spasms of ejaculation beginning, and I cried out in ecstasy as I rammed my hot cum into his dripping ass. Afterward, I lay beside him, embracing him sweatily but lovingly, my dick still encamped in his enlarged hole. We breathed quietly together and savored the feeling of deep satiety within both ass and groin.
I think we both slept for a short while. When I regained consciousness, my relaxed cock had slipped out of Jason's ass, but I was still clutching his body from behind, and my brown-tinged dick had dribbled a little creamy trail across his crack and butt. He rolled over and stretched his gorgeous body, and we just lay there for awhile, and I drank in the incredible beauty of him near me.
Mikey came back to check on us, and Jason suggested we go back down to the creek for a dip. This time it was more of a bath than a swim, and we emerged clean and refreshed. The only sexual aspect of our washing was that Jason still wanted to suck on my asshole a little, filled as it now was with his own cum, which he likes to taste. And he is at all times a great kisser, so there was some clutching and making out still going on. But by now we had sucked and fucked ourselves limp. We adjourned to the cabin, where we built up a fire, and I cooked up a more elaborate dinner than usual from my canned and dried supplies. Jason looked on and helped with interest, but mostly he just couldn't take his eyes off of my body. It pleased me that he was at least as visually stimulated by my bare skin as I was by his.
For the occasion of our first dinner together, I broke out a nice bottle of wine from the Jeep and sent Jason out for fresh flowers for the table. It wasn't quite dark enough to give lamplight a legitimate use, but I lit a candle stuck into a bottle on the table anyway, just for romantic effect. We talked happily and enjoyed one of the best meals I have ever eaten, though for the life of me I cannot remember what it was. Maybe it was the company that made the meal so fabulous.
After dinner, we sat on the porch and watched the sun set as I had on my first night. Jason slipped on my chambray shirt when the temperature began to drop a bit, leaving it unbuttoned. Damn, he was sexy, with the shirt tails hanging over his thighs, but with his entire front and center section still exposed to my admiring view. We finished the bottle of wine as the sun set, and then moved on to my good scotch. There wasn't much to do, except to rock, sip, talk, laugh, and occasionally caress or kiss. Somehow the hours passed in perfect harmony and bliss.
The point came, though, when the caressing and kissing began to be more frequent than the talking and laughing. Then we knew it was time to go inside for more love-making. With the edge of desire so much removed by now, our coupling was much more gentle, more leisurely, and more romantic now. There was a long period of heavy kissing. Jason's tongue and lips must have moistened and caressed every square millimeter of my skin, from toes to scalp. By the time he got around to my crotch, I was just a puddle of relaxed bliss. My dick rose willingly to meet his tongue, though. He licked and lipped it up and down to the accompaniment of my deep moans of pleasure. Soon he was sucking on it again, riding it doggedly until I filled his mouth with a new and plentiful supply of creamy jizz stirred up by his patient caresses. He turned his attentions to my scrotum, licking it just as lovingly and patiently. Then down he roamed toward my anus, slurping and lip-biting all the way. When he clamped his mouth down on my asshole again, I thought I would go through the cabin roof, just slightly from the soreness from our earlier activities, but mostly from anticipation of more to come.
And there certainly was more coming. I had to wait for it, though, for this time Jason gave me a fucking for keeps. His dick was in me more or less all night long, not always thrusting, but always present and always hard. I never encountered anyone so randy and with such stamina. Whenever his erection would start to flag a little, he would stroke a few thrusts to pump it back up again. Then he would just gently and slowly clench his hip muscles, maintaining a constant but very subtle stimulation both of his own cock and of my equally throbbing butt hole. It must have been tantric sex. I think he came in me about three times during the night, maybe four. Each of his cumings added more slippery lubrication to my hole, to keep him sliding in and out again later as he recovered his momentum. I even dozed off sometimes with him still fucking me, and I think he may have fucked in his sleep some, too.
By four or so in the morning, even Jason and I were pretty much fucked out. We went to sleep with his dick still stiff and stuffed deep within me, but when we awoke, feeling cold, it was all over. I pulled the sheet and blanket up over both of us, pulled Jason's arm back across my torso, and we settled in for some serious zzz's.
Jason and I have been together ever since, and I am never happier than when I have his big, hard dick up my slick asshole. I still crave his body like a horny kid, and he, thank God, would still rather look at and lick and fuck my naked body more than anything else in the world. The cabin in the wilderness has become our special love-nest, a place we spend at least a week every summer in uninhibited natural enjoyment. If you should ever encounter one of the photo spreads Jason has made of me, himself, and us, you can rest assured that we are due no credit at all as actors, for every smile and grimace of ecstasy is absolutely real.