A deserted island thing
First of all, I'm not gay. Let's get that shit straight. Not that I hadn't done that type of thing before. I surely have. But in a sort of deserted island with a hot guy and what are you gonna do kind of way. Forget the Slavik kid in Germany (he looked like a chick, seriously...I mean he was really pretty). I like ladies, and mostly with the guys it's been me going, "Fuck I really wanna get off with just about anything" not "Goddam he's hot buttered yum and I'm a pig with a big appetite!"
I could tell you about the Slavik kid, but first I'd have to tell you about my first time, that got me thinking I don't mind getting off as long as you don't put any labels on it. That's all. Except for the deserted island label. I can live with that. Besides, as a ski instructor in Germany right now I pretty much can do whatever I'd like and labels be damned (I don't think they've made names for some of the shit, yo!).
Anyway, let me tell you this story. I had gone on a long trek in Alaska with a friend of mine. He was like me in many ways. He liked adventure, was athletic and willing to push his body to find the limits. We would go out on these treks sometimes, just wandering the wilderness living off tree bark if need be (the inside of which is amazingly nutritious). After a week in the wilderness we came upon an old abandoned cabin. It was crude, but it was warm and gave us shelter from the mosquitos. We had some ganja, which we sparked as soon as we settled in, passing the pipe to and fro. After awhile we started to get giggly and the truth serum THC started eeking out stories. At the time we were 19, I think. Both taking a break from college; a break I'm still on. We had grown up together, and he brought up Dr. Ingall, a prominant physician and crazy marathoner.
"Remember him?" he asked me, grinning a high-ass grin.
"Fuckin'-A," I said. "Dude was a runner. Really tall and skinny, but he was a handsome man. Kind of looked like clark Kent, with those glasses and the hair. Wasn't he the one with the hot secretary he was bangin'?"
"Nah, he was gay," my friend said, sipping from the pipe and passing it to me. I took a toke and waited for him to go through the process of internalizing the smoke. When he finally coughed it out and sucked in some oxygen I did the same.
"How do you know?" I asked, still coughing a bit. "You suck his dick?" I was joking of course, as guys will do.
My friend laughed. "Not at first. He sucked mine."
I stared at him as he puffed from the pipe again, trying to determine if he was serious. He didn't look like he had been joking, but then we were both bleary-eyed and high so who knew? I had a sudden fantasy of my friend, who is male model hot, lying on the doctor's table with the lanky doc sucking his hard cock. I blinked, taking the pipe back when offered. Don't need that image, I thought. "How did that happen?"
He grimaced. "Fuck dude...listen you aren't going to freak are you?"
I shook my head. I realized that despite the righteous weed we'd been smoking I had a pretty impressive boner. I wanted to hear the story. "Nah, man...it's cool, tell me about it."
He told me about it. He told me about the time he had gone to the local fraternal organization luncheon to basically beg for money for a trip to China as part of the Junior Olympic track team. My friend was a champion runner, 800 meters. That was about a year before this trip we were on. He needed sponsors to finance his way to China, and so he stood up and introduced himself and told them he was hoping to raise money to go to China, blah blah. It was the typical shit, ask for money without asking for money outright.
Afterward he said Doc Ingall came up to him and started to talk to him. He said he was thrilled because, unbeknownst to me until that moment he was telling me about this, he was gay and the doc was, in his words, "Like Superman hot."
"Clark Kent hot," I said, puffing on the pipe. "Seriously, he's like a hot Clark Kent. I can't see him in tights, but in a suit, yeah. He's too skinny."
My friend shrugged. "Whatever, bro, I thought he was the shit." He continued on his story. The doc told him he was a handsome young man, an athletic, well formed young speciman. "He told me I should be proud of my proportions."
"Your proportions?" I said, laughing. "What the fuck kind of pickup line is that?"
My friend shrugged. The doc told him he'd like to talk to him about things later, alone. He'd like to help my friend out if he could.
"But you never went to China," I said. We had put the pipe aside finally and I was reclining on my sleeping bag. My friend was lying next to me, with his feet to my head and my feet to his. He lay back, crossing his arms behind his head and looking up at the ceiling.
"Nope." He continued his story. The doc arranged to pick him up one day and took him to his house that was near the local airport. It was a nice house, big with a huge garden in the back the doc liked to cultivate. Once inside the doc told my friend he was a nudist and liked to "free his body" and he hoped my friend would to.
"That's kind of creepy, yo," I said.
"No," my friend said, "'cause I was right there, man, I was a willing participant. He was just trying to make excuses in his head, I think."
I was lying on my side, my head propped in one hand leaning on an elbow, watching him as he told the story. I could see he was remembering everything very clearly despite our high state as there was a definite lump in his pants. He continued on. They got naked and walked hand in hand out into the garden. The doc took him to a spot in a gazebo where there was one of those hanging beds and a huge mirror on one wall. The doc guided him to stand between the mirror and the bed, that swung gently as they bumped it. The doc said, "Look at yourself in the mirror," which my friend did.
"What did you see?" I asked.
"I saw a young guy, me, with a fucking huge boner and and a really handsome older guy, him, with an even bigger boner."
I laughed. "Seriously? He's hung?"
My friend laughed. "Like a fucking stallion, bro."
The doc reached an arm around around him and put a hand on his belly. He told him how nice it was that he had a flat belly, with a six pack, then he slid his hand up to his chest and admired the muscles there, then down to his swollen cock and wrapped around it. He asked my friend if he was afraid of sex. "At that point, man, I was like, 'Dude, let's just fucking do this.' I turned around and grabbed him and kissed him. Then it was on like donkey kong."
My friend went silent. I lay there a moment, looking at him. Was he going to finish? Was he going to tell me every detail? He reached down to his crotch suddenly and laughed. "Damn...got a boner."
I laughed and looked down. I grabbed my own swollen shaft through my pants. "Me too."
He looked at me and we both laughed. "Hey, man," he said, "I can handle that for you if you need me to...or want me to."
I shrugged. I realized I was nervous suddenly. Our eyes met and I got that "Oh fuck yeah let's connect" vibe you usually get with women when you both want to just jump in bed. He sat up and reached out, touching my obvious bulge.
"Bro you gotta problem," he whispered. Suddenly we both giggled nervously. I was still on my side, but at that point I rolled onto my back to give him better access. He stroked me through my pants for a few moments, just staring at my crotch. His hands flattened down the fabric of my hiking pants on either side of my dick, molding the fabric. "It's a nice, big problem," he said. He bent down and put his mouth on the tip of my penis, kissing it through the fabric. I lifted my hips, meeting him eagerly.
"So, uh, he sucked your dick first," I asked, hoarsely, feeling like I needed to break the tension. "Then you sucked his?"
He looked up at me, laying his cheek against my erection. "Yeah," he said. "Well, he sucked my cock kneeling in front of me. It was very hot. I could look down over his shoulders and see his ass clinching as he humped the air like he wanted to fuck me and that really turned me on. Then when I shot my load in his mouth ("Did he swallow," I asked; "Yeah," he answered before continuing) he put me in the bed and showed me lots of stuff."
"Like what?" I asked.
"Like how his dick tasted," he said. "I'm kind of curious how yours tastes. Can I?"
I nodded quickly. He unzipped my pants and pulled them down. My underwear followed until they were both around my knees and my dick, hard as a rock, arched over my stomach proudly. He took it into his hand, licking his lips.
I moaned a little when he flicked his tongue over the tip. His hand slowly stroked me. He looked up at me. "Do you remember when we were kids and we jerked each other off?"
I nodded. "Yeah...just kids, doing whatever, you know," I said lamely. I did remember it. Nothing more exciting than another person's hand on your cock when you're about 15 even if it is your best friend.
"I really wanted to suck your cock then," he said. He turned his head and I felt the warm, wet feel of his mouth engulfing my swollen cock. I lifted my hips eagerly as he slid down the shaft, taking it all in until the head hit the back of his throat. When he came back up the suction caused a popping noise as he released me. He pushed my shirt up and kissed my belly. I tentatively reached down and touched his shoulder. He took the hint and sat up, whipping his shirt off. He was, indeed, nicely proportioned. When his shirt was off he sat back and took his pants off. While he did that I pushed my pants off completely and took my own shirt off. Soon we were naked and back in the original position, my dick in his mouth and my hand on his bare shoulder. I stroked his soft skin, enjoying the feeling of his muscles flexing underneath.
But no feeling compared to the feeling of his mouth on my dick. He could really suck a cock. After a moment I, almost unconsciously because I'm not gay, remember, pulled at his body and he swung himself around so I could taste him while he tasted me. We lay on our side, facing each other in a classic 69 pose. His dick, which was fat and hard with big tight balls and no hair but for a tiny little Hitler mustache above the shaft, was right there. I could smell him and it was a strong, wonderful smell. I grabbed his cock, surprised at how hot and hard it was, and pulled it straight out so I could get a closeup view pointed right at my face. I did what he had done with me, flicking my tongue over the head. It was velvity, like something soft stretched over a firm muscle, and it tasted salty and bitter, but creamy at the same time, a weird, enticing mix. I opened my mouth and put his cock in, feeling it slide over my tongue and filling my mouth with it's impressive girth.
My friend gripped my ass, going to town now on my cock while I humped his face. I, too, had hold of his taut buns while his thick meat pistoned in and out of my mouth. Spit coated it, I was droolling on my chin, and incredibly focused on that meat sickle. I held him still for a moment and slid my mouth as far down his cock as I could. Opening my throat, I took it in, feeling it wiggle and pulse in my throat until my nose was buried in his fragrant balls. It was all too crazy. I had never experienced anything like it. His skin was so soft, on his back, his ass, his thighs, belly, chest, everywhere. His ball sac skin was so soft against my nose, and the pungent smell of him was driving me nuts. I pulled him close so our bellies touched and the feeling was intense. When I pulled back from his cock I felt him detach.
"He also taught me something else," he said, his voice thick.
"Yeah?"
He rolled away from me and went to his backpack. Pulling out a tube he squirted something onto his finger, then he reached around and stuck his finger in his own ass. "Yeah, he totally taught me that I like to get fucked by a big cock."
"Oh," I said. I lay there, stroking my cock, enjoying the fact that his spit was coating it and watching him lube himself up, enjoying how his muscles bunched and worked under the skin of his back as he arched his back. He came over and smeared some of the lube on my dick, stroking it in until his hand slid up and down the swollen pole easily. Then he lay down on his sleeping bag, on his stomach and lifted his ass a little.
"Come on," he said, pulling me toward him. I eagerly mounted him, my knees on either side of his thighs. He arched his back and I angled my cock down. I was a bit clumsy about it, but eager, as I positioned the slick, fat head against his lubed hole. He sighed as I slid in.
"Slowly," he groaned. "Just slowly at first."
"Okay," I grunted. It was tight, but I concentrated on making my dick hard as a rock as it tried bending this way and that before sliding in easily. I held myself up, propped on my hands and knees, slowly lowering myself into him while he gripped the sleeping bag in both hands and bit his lip. "Are you okay? Does that hurt?" I asked.
"Oh yeah," he breathed. "But it hurts so good. That's a nice, fat cock."
Every dude likes to hear that so my fat cock swelled up even more and he moaned. Finally I was to the hilt, balls deep as they say. I pushed in deeper, looking down and watching his sweet round ass bunch up against my hips, feeling his firm muscular ass cheeks and upper thighs crushed against my balls. Then I slowly pulled out, then back in slowly.
Soon though the rhythm got going. As he loosened up and I started getting the hang of it I was banging his ass. Propped on my knees, my arms wrapped under his arms and then back over his shoulders, I was humping into him furiously, slamming my cock in deep. My friend was bucking back against me, encouraging me, telling me to fuck him with my big cock.
Who was I to argue? I buried my face in his neck, tasting his salty sweat with my tongue. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and knees and I got onto my feet, bending my knees in a squat as I banged him. I could reach down now and slide one hand over his heaving chest and belly to find his dick, which was swinging in the breeze with our rhythm. When I grabbed that he gave a shout and I stroked him hard in time with my pistoning fuck stick. Finally, with a gasping groan and a cry my friend came. I felt his hot load shoot onto my hand and, I'm sure, onto his sleeping back. I felt his anus doing somersaults on my dick and between his jiz on my hand, wrist and forearm, the taste of his salty skin, the feel of his sweaty back against my chest and that clamping anus, I thrust one last time deep into him and everything went crazy and animalistic for a moment as I jerked and gasped and swayed around while my cream loaded him up.
Finally I fell off of him and lay on my back in a sweaty mess.
So that's that. Deserted island, Alaska cabin, hot guy, horny, so what are you going to do? Sometimes, when I see my friend, we make my apartment in Munich a deserted island. But I still tag the ladies. Other than that Slavik kid, who seriously looked like a very cute girl, except he had a pretty little dick and no hips, just a tight little ass, that was smooth and hairless like two round globes of muscle, and he had tiny little hard nipples on his skinny little twink chest. And there was that other dude. The Brit and the deserted island actually a deserted island we had dared each other to swim out to from the Dubrovnik harbor, and then we were stuck so what are you going to do? Seriously, you know, what are you going to do?