The following is a work of fiction. It is not intended to be read by anyone not legally entitled to do so nor by anyone offended by common gendered sexual activity. Comments and constructive criticism to: Woodrow_h@hotmail.com.
Caught in the Act
August in northern Illinois can be a brutal time. Temperatures often flirt with the hundred degree mark, and high humidity contributes to the oppressive "heat index": a term dreamed up by TV weathermen to remind us of how miserable we should feel.
This year was different. The mercury stayed well below average and the rain passed by to the south. The weather was quite pleasant. The low humidity discouraged the normal explosion of the mosquito population, making outdoor recreation a distinct pleasure.
One Friday I found myself pretty much caught up at work, so I took the afternoon off. Changing from my business suit into shorts and a tee shirt, I headed for the forest preserve midway between my office and home. This particular grove is popular with gays, so when one ventures into the woods, he is apt to be followed by someone with a sexual tryst in mind.
The parking lot was almost full as I pulled in, though at least a quarter of the cars there were occupied by a single male. A quick count told me that there must be about 15 people in the woods, for none of the picnic tables was in use.
I parked, locked the car, and began walking into the woods when I heard a car door slam behind me. No doubt I was going to have company on my stroll. About fifty feet into the forest, shielded from the parking lot by the dense foliage, I turned to look at who might be following me. Contrary to what you find in the average porno story, not all gays are hunks. Some of them can be fat pigs slovenly, dirty, or downright ugly. I'm not all that picky, but I do appreciate good grooming and enough self esteem in a man to keep his weight reasonable.
This fellow, as I observed him approaching easily passed my criteria. He was grey haired, I'd guess late 50's early 60's like me. He was short, barrel- chested with a small belly that did not droop over his waist. He wore clean khaki shorts, revealing a pair of stout legs, covered with a fine down of grey hair. His shirt was off, thrown over his shoulder, giving me a view of his lush chest and stomach thickly covered with soft grey fur. He wore a baseball cap and sockless sandals.
As he neared me, I smiled and asked him how it was going. He smiled back and said OK. He stopped next to me and we exchanged platitudes about the weather, consciously inching closer to each other until our feet touched. That, since neither of us moved back, was the ice-breaker. We knew what each other wanted, and were willing to do it with each other.
I stripped off my tee shirt and we pulled each other into an embrace, our hairy bellies grinding into each others. His breath was sweet, his tongue insistent as it explored the inside of my mouth. I could feel the hardness at his groin pressing onto me and my own stiff cock pressing right back.
Without breaking the kiss, he hooked his fingers into his waistband and slipped his shorts to his ankles. He wore no underwear, and a stiff 6" of hot meat sprang up.
I dropped my shorts as well, and taking both our boners into my hand, began rubbing them together, side by side. Now he reached down taking mine in one hand and his own in the other, began rubbing the tips together. I was getting really hot and squirmed a little. He must have thought I was going to cum, as he dropped his cock and went down on me.
He sucked me for a minute or so then I stood him up and went down on him. We alternated like this a few times, then took each other in our arms again. The kiss was even more passionate than the first. Our stiff cocks, glistening with each other's saliva touched as our tongues jousted. This time I was on the verge of shooting my wad when we heard a footstep!
Shit! Caught red handed! We broke apart and hastily pulled up our shorts. It was a vain gesture. If it was a cop he had us dead to rights already. Fortunately, it was just another guy cruising. He walked by us wordlessly, as if he had seen nothing amiss and disappeared into the woods.
Getting caught is always a hard-on shrinker for me, and the same effect was evident in my friend. There was nothing to it but to leave. We were so flustered, we didn't think to exchange names, but I did notice his truck and wrote down the license number. You can bet the next time I see that particular vehicle, I'm going to make a diligent search for its owner.