Evening Walk in Southern England
Evening Walk In Southern England.
A sharp cracking of twigs from the right broke the silence as a fallow hind splintered out on to the turf ride from the Sitka Spruce plantation, taking two strides to cross the ride and lose itself in the plantation on the other side.
"Spanner LEAVE!" he shouted, instinctively predicting his dog's behaviour. All this appeared to do was draw the dog's attention to the fleeting animal and give chase. Dave whistled a two note tune which he had been conditioning the dog to understand as "Leave & come to me" for just such an event. The dog cocked his head and looked back at him, and paused for a few seconds before returning for the reward of a broken dog biscuit. "Yes" he thought, pleased with this morsel of gained control over his canine.
The peace was soon resumed as the last notes of a blackbirds alarm call faded back into the woods. Just the slight, but regular creaking of Dave's steel toe-capped boots and the occasional metallic strikes of his keys in his pocket. The dog's nose was back to the ground and all was as it should be again.
He loved walking around the forest. It was very rare to meet anyone else, which was fine by Dave. It was difficult to say whether this was because his dog had become so unaccustomed to meeting other dogs that it tended to bowl up to them barking with hackles raised -- much to the other owners panic, or whether it was because Dave had become so unaccustomed to meeting other people that he felt most relaxed in their absence. Either way, the arrangement appeared to suit both of them.
There was an undercurrent of sexuality quietly coursing around Dave's head. There are some functions, which we are genetically obliged to obey. Eating, drinking, defecating and masturbation (in the absence of a partner). For Dave, this wasn't a strong mechanical need to penetrate warm wet holes and leave the scene of the crime a.s.a.p. although this might be a part of it. But, in a quiet way, like when he wasn't at work, he would, where ever practical go commando in deference to it. This late summer evening was no exception. Part of the enjoyment of the freedom to roam, was the freedom to roam in wrecked, cut-off, never washed army surplus fatigues, his penis and testicles swinging unhindered between his legs. They were a catalyst for sexual feelings. Dave loved them. They had enough pockets for; dog bribes, dog lead, mobile phone and baccy pouch & lighter. Being baggy, and a little on the large side, they hung off of his hips, more so when weighed down with cargo and without a belt, resting just below the parting of his buttocks and just on the root of his cock, his full pubic bush showing above the waistline. Once, he had energetically thrown a thick stick for Spanner and they had dropped to the floor, but it was all part of the lack of restriction. Dave's short-sleeved, olive green, cotton shirt was unbuttoned too and he was enveloped by air. When he had walked far enough from the possibility of shocking ramblers, he would undo all the fly buttons to allow the fly to gape open and allow the wood scented breeze to caress them. Almost like being naked, (which he would have been if it wasn't for the threat of arrest and social humiliation).
A warm pine aroma intermittently lifted from the plantations and heavily moved with the slow, warm and humid air. The same humid air, which also lifted the comforting, smell of his ripe cut-offs. The dog lapped up opaque water which had collected in the ochre clay scored tyre tracks of a recently past forestry vehicle. A dragonfly darted in and then out of their minute, a horse fly picking up the harmony and taking the soundtrack off in the other direction.
The next break in the tranquillity was a surprised bark from Spanner up ahead. Dave looked round to see what he had seen this time. There was someone sat on a fallen tree trunk a couple of meters in off the path. The dog trotted off over to the man, but thankfully lost interest when they realised that he had neither a dog nor food. A rabbit broke cover further up the track and the excited mutt took off after it. "Result" thought Dave, knowing that Spanner was now way ahead with his nose, and full attention deep in a gorse bush.
Dave approached the spot where the man sat. Obviously someone who also appreciated the solitude and about the same age at about 40. If Dave was going to meet anyone he would rather it would be another single bloke of the same age.
"Hello there" was Dave's stock greeting to passing strangers.
"Evening, lovely int it? `Ere, I don't s'pose you've got a light `ave y'mate? Mine `as run out on me again"
"They do that don't they you can guarantee that they do it when you're out in the middle of nowhere." Dave grinned "Yeah, I've got one here somewhere" Dave put his hand into his "Baccy pocket" on the side of his shorts and chased the lighter with his fingers as his shorts rode down with the added weight of his hand. At this point Dave realised that his flies were still open and his heart put in a couple of extra, conjoined beats as he realised. He glanced up to see if he'd got away with it, only to catch the bloke on the log grinning. Dave smiled back.
"Ah, got it" Dave said while pulling the pocket almost inside out as he tried to pull his hand out, which was actually pulling the flies wider apart. Dave thought it would look too obvious to do them up now, as if they were open deliberately, so he thought he'd just act as if he was unaware.
The bloke had leant backwards and twisted his torso in order to access his rucksack behind the pine trunk he was sitting on. Dave smiled, from the inside out, when, following a line along the guys beautifully hairy thighs, he noticed that he was also "going commando" as the sacred hirsute outline of a testicle loomed out of the darkness of the leg of his own skanky & frayed cut-off denim shorts. This increased Dave's heart rate and he felt the comforting increase in the weight of his cock as it slightly swelled.
The man swung round, having retrieved his cigarettes. He took one out. As he was looking down at the packet Dave noticed his eyes rise below his brow as he took the opportunity to look at Dave's crotch, and then he reached up his hand to take the lighter. Dave passed the lighter, hoping that the bloke wouldn't notice it shaking in Dave's adrenalin filled fingers.
The man hadn't mentioned Dave's open flies, but in the process of taking out his tobacco pouch, Dave nonchalantly tried to draw them together in a less obvious way, even though he knew the guy had probably already caught a glimpse of the side of his shaft.
In these days of smoking bans, there is an innate camaraderie between fellow smokers, so despite the demise of many a local pub, it wasn't all-bad!
Dave started to roll up a fag, pausing for a second or two to find a stick to hurl into the undergrowth for Spanner, who had by now given up on the rabbit and returned to see what the hold up was. Spanner was soon off again searching for the exact stick Dave had thrown, amongst a forest floor littered with them, a trick he had done many times before. Dave resumed the roll-up construction, and licking the paper, and giving it a final roll between his fingers, put it in his mouth.
"I'm Steve," the man said offering his hand.
"Dave" Dave replied shaking his hand.
"Take a seat" Steve offered with his upturned, open hand pointing towards the ground in front of him. Dave smiled and sunk down on to the grass where he was standing, a couple of meters away. There was a camber to the side of the ride, so coupled with the height of the fallen trunk on the bank, he was a fair bit lower than Steve, and whether by design or accident, was in the perfect position to view the show up the trouser legs of Steve's shorts. The testicle he had noticed earlier was still showing in the right leg and the fantastically smooth foreskin, with exquisitely raised veins covering Steve's bell end was showing from the other leg.
If time could have paused right there Dave would have been happy to stay there ad infinitum. As it was, Spanner came bounding back with the exact stick, and was demanding a re-match! Dave got back up to his feet and sent the stick of into oblivion, with a wagging tail flying off after it.
It was now pretty obvious that Dave's cock was starting to tent his beloved shorts, which, with the amount of wear they had had, were wearing thin enough to show the outline of his helmet, which was exaggerated now that his own foreskin had rolled back. He felt the damp head sticking against the thinning cotton. He looked down. There wasn't much chance of hiding it, but luckily, he noticed Steve was tenting a bit too!
So, for a while they chatted about the beauty of the place, about the feeling of freedom there and about the deer, which had just crashed past him.
Steve had unbuttoned his shirt exposing the most perfect black crab ladder leading up to an excitingly hair-covered abdomen and chest.
"I'm not really sure where I am," Steve said reaching backwards again to rummage in his bag for a map. "Do you know the area? I think we're about here aren't we" pointing to the map. Steve stood up and Dave walked over so they could both study the intricacies of Steve's map.
"Sorry mate, I'm busting for a piss," Steve said as he turned away slightly and pulled out his cock and started to piss, still pointing to the map. Dave looked at the map in Steve's hand. As Steve was showing Dave, one handed, where he had been, he turned back towards Dave, tracing his finger along a dotted line. Dave looked away momentarily when he felt Steve's warm piss running down his leg and into the top of his boots, but made no attempt to move. Steve finished and, still looking at the map, dropped his cock back into his shorts, still dribbling.
"I started here -- ah- I think?" Steve frowned as he left a wet fingerprint on his assumed start point.
Dave took the folded map from Steve, lifted it to his chest height and looked at it, Steve sat back on the trunk. Knowing that now his crotch was right in front of Steve's face, Dave stared, puzzled by the map. Steve now had the perfect chance to stare all he wanted as Dave's face was obscured by the map. Dave knew exactly where they were, but held the pose for a minute or two, pretending not to understand the map. Steve filled his eyes with the glory of Dave's tenting cock; his spilling pubes and now an overwhelming and explosive scent of the well worn, cum, ball sweat & piss stained shorts. Absolute masculinity. Steve didn't care about the map and Dave was getting deep pleasure from knowing that a rugged good-looking working class bloke was checking out his body and even better and smelling his comfort. Dave felt Steve's nose lightly brushing against his shorts, and he could hear him deeply inhaling. It was great to think that someone else could love the aroma as much as he did.
Dave enjoyed this for a few minutes then dropped the map. Steve sat back upright and took the map. "Sit here and show me" Steve asked Dave, patting the trunk next to him. Dave sat beside Steve and pointed to where they were. "I thought I was over here" Steve leaned across and pointed to the other side of the, now unfolded, map. Dave became aware of the scent of Steve's armpit. A man after my own heart. Dave thought, not being a fan of perfumes and deodorants himself. Steve lifted the top of the map up in front of them, his pit right next to Dave's face. Heaven! Dave thought, and took in some deep breaths. The delaying and acting nonchalant was really building the tension, but Dave just could prevent himself from turning his face round to place his nose in Steve's pit. It was a bit blatant, but when would this ever happen again?
"You're pretty crap at map reading aren't you dude!" Dave laughed. Steve responded by standing up, facing Dave and smirking "are you calling me thick?"
"Well if the cap fits mate" Dave continued the banter.
Steve lunged for Dave, holding Dave in a head-lock, but rather than holding around the neck, he held him tightly around the face, forcing Dave's nose deep in his sweaty pit. Eventually the position was too strained to hold and they broke away laughing. The pit scent stuck to Dave's face acting like some viagra inhaler. At this point Steve must have thought the time for playing dumb was over, as he sunk down and breathed in Dave's crotch, he opened the flies and the top button. Dave's shorts fell to the ground. Steve buried his face far away into Dave's balls, now dripping with his unique, aromatic, musky sweat. Soon Steve's shorts were lying on top of the pile of clothes on the grass and they were naked in front of each other.
They viciously rubbed themselves into the other's scented regions. There was the occasional tongue searching into a cock-eye or anus but the main force driving them was an overwhelming need to immerse themselves in the smell of the other. Then they came face to face and fell into a kiss, which smelled of paradise, a paradise which, until now, had only existed in their masturbatory final moments. Their cocks rocked over each other and slid up & down together. Dave and Steve were covered with an infusion of ball and armpit sweat.
Dave felt a volt of current from Steve's Cock, which caused one in Dave's. They cum simultaneously, and continued writhing and spreading the spunk over their bellies. They held tight for a while, but then collapsed on the trunk catching their breath. They looked in each other's eyes and smiled -- from the inside.
Steve even managed to get a little turned on again when Dave inverted his shorts and gave his stomach a cursory wipe, collecting most of the cum inside them, then casually put them back on, the cum seeping through the weave and showing as a dark patch to which his, still half hard, cock head stuck. Steve pulled his shorts on without attempting to clear the moisture matting his body hair.
Dave felt a whack on his shins, Spanner had found the stick again and was wanting it thrown again. "Cheers Steve dude, I hope you find your way back ok" They took a last long stare at each other's bodies, as if to store up masturbatory material for the next decade. Dave turned and walked away, a grin widening across his face as he looked up as if to give a nod to fate.
As Dave drove back he could smell Steve all over him. From his ball sweat, to his pit scent, and when he put the car heater fan on -- the piss he had filled his boots with.
"Brilliant!" he repeated all the way home.
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