GAY RAFTING TRIP IV
Partner number six was named Tim. Hyperkinetic. Never still, infectious laugh, bright, college professor and a cock that always seemed to point at the sky. Always, all through the trip. You'd think it would get sore. He was the only other uncut guy on the trip and it was a healthy eight incher with no glans visible under the hood. I'd never tasted an uncircumcised pecker and I was eager to try one. He was an old hand but said he enjoyed a hoodie a lot - they all tasted different and he wanted to suck mine tonight.
The river was magnificent, we were singing a lot. Filthy limericks included. The one that got the biggest laugh was: From a crypt in the depths of St. Giles,
Rose a scream that resounded for miles,
Oh my good gracious,
Had Father Ignatius,
Forgotten the Bishop has piles?
Partner # 1, the good Father, was perhaps the most amused.
The singing went on after dinner. Maybe because the trip was close to the end but the beer intake was hefty, the guys went around the group telling stories and the mood was jolly when we sacked out for the night. The plan was to do a 69 simultaneous suck and Tim wanted his fanny finger fucked. That sounded good to me too. Tim had some Vaseline and we greased up a forefinger and found each other's poop chutes. We'd both had plenty of sex in the week and that was a blessing which made for unhurried pleasure. I'd learned a lot about fellatio since we got on the river and Tim probably knew plenty before the trip began so the cocksucking was delicious both to give and receive. The finger massaging my prostate felt awesome too. Tim wanted to swallow my load but I wanted to watch him squirt. When he warned me he was about to pop, I turned on my flashlight and lifted my head off his cock. His foreskin was pulled back over the coronal groove and I just tickled the tip of his tool with the tip of my tongue. His first spurt shot all over the lower half of my face but I pulled away quickly and was able to watch the rest of his ejaculation. His stream of cum was thin in diameter but thick in substance and taste. I counted seven healthy shots before his organ stopped playing.
He went back to work on me and his finger flicking around in my rectum was beyond awesome. I was plenty cranked up from my sucking and was getting too close to cumming too fast so I asked him to take it easy. His finger kept working but his tongue began a lazy very slow circle of my glans which was now bare, his having pulled my foreskin back to my coronal groove. I don't think there's anything I like better than that ascent to ejaculatory inevitability, except for the orgasm itself, and this time it was prolonged sweet agony until POW! The man juice squirting through my cock was pure ecstasy, and Tim's mouth working to swallow my load was a new and wonderful experience as the jizz kept squirting through my dick. I was finally empty and I had to laugh when he lifted his head off my softening organ with a wide grin, a thin string of cum dribbling down his chin. "I'm sort of sorry I couldn't watch that because the way it tickled the back of my throat, you must be quite a squirter.", he said.
The last day on the river was rather quiet. Probably the guys felt like I did, sorry to be finishing such a great experience and getting nostalgic before the curtain fell. Pete was more relaxed than on our first day. He had made his decision about the future and seemed quite comfortable with it. His priorities began with the care of his mother since he was her only source of support. Oh, and by the way, he was hooked on hard cocks and that did not mix well with being an active Catholic priest.
Dinner was outstanding with another cake and after dinner one of the guides produced a banjo and they did some singing and worked on polishing off the beer supply since there would be no opportunity to do so the next morning. They were both sporting boners by the time they got their sleeping bags laid out. This time Peter wanted Don's nine incher up his can and Don thought a good fucking would be a fine finale for the trip. Don won the coin toss and elected to receive. On his back, knees pulled up he directed Pete's cockhead into his rosebud. Peter started out slow and gentle but the pace picked up and finally he was slamming his cock into Don's fanny with each stroke. Finally with a grunt, balls to the wall Don felt the holy scepter throb in his rectum and Pete finally relaxed. The rubber had a nice collection of semen and Don upended it and swallowed the lot. Yummy, even with the slightly rubbery taste.
Don entered him easily. Had Pete had a bit of stretching in the past week? Pretty cranked up from his fucking, he did the ages old in and out slowly because he didn't want this last sexual experience of the trip to end prematurely. Pete asked him to pull out before he came because he wanted to watch the milky fountain of life squirt again. Slow he went but his cock was getting very sensitive and his glans rubbing against the walls of Pete's rectum, even through the rubber, brought him too soon to the edge of the orgasmic cliff. He pulled out, peeled off the condom and Pete started stroking his wildly swollen dickhead with just thumb and forefinger. The sweet agony of ejaculatory inevitability mounted and then CRACK! The urgent wad of semen zzzzzzipped through his organ and Pete watched it spurt over and over, two and three feet through the air to soak Don's sleeping bag. "Amazing.", said Pete. "It really is true, the more frequently you ejaculate, the more semen you squirt. I guess it's a throwback to our animal ancestry when we had to be able to really pound our mate when she was in heat."
They lay cuddled on the gooey sleeping bag and fell into an exhausted sleep. It was a helluva rafting trip.
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