I had not been to the old camp in years. The last time I was there I had been married. But now single at 35, I wanted to spend some time alone. When I pulled up the cabin, it was as it had been: a log cabin on posts with a large bay window looking over the lake and two side windows where there were adjacent bedrooms. I opened it and pulled the sheets for the couch and chairs in the kitchen area, threw my bag on the floor and stood at the doorway, seeing the light shimmer on the lake. Chet, the hired hand, had put in the dock as I instructed and, as I spanned the dock, he was spread out on a towel, on his stomach, taking in the noonday sun. I'd always liked Chet. He was a young lad when I first met him, some 8 years ago, he had graduated from high school. Slim, lanky with long brown hair, he was willing to work on any project to keep ahead of expenses for his new Ford truck. I walked down the path toward him. He was sound asleep. When I got the end of the dock, I could see that he had piled his clothes there, pants, shirt, shoes, socks and white underwear. He had gone skinny dipping. I would have done it too but he was 10 years younger than I was. So I stood staring at him and compromised. I took off my shirt, shoes, and pants, staying in my black underwear. I tiptoed to the end of the dock, just a few feet from him and sat down, sitting up, letting the sun bake my skin. I could see his shoulders, broad and firm like ridges on a mountain sweep down to the narrow valley of his back and waist and then, spread out and rise to the two mounds, rounded yet firm that stretched out to the long legs of an athlete. I wanted to touch him, just rest my hand on him when he started awake and look up. "Oh, hi, Mr. Buckley."
I smiled, "Hi, Chet."
"Just thought I would get a swim. Water is great," he pressed his chest upward and leaned over, swinging his legs around. I could see the tender belly with a crust of hair that swirled to his pubis and, there, the bud of his penis. He didn't bother to cover himself but swung his legs toward me so his legs were across from mine, sitting like two bookends. He looked me in the eye and then stared at my black underwear.
"Cool undies," he laughed.
I shrug my shoulders. "Latest fashion."
"I can see," he stared that them, then reached over and pulled on the elastic. "Impressive."
We stared at one another for several minutes. No words. He stared at me. I looked at him but kept averting my eyes, looking at the lake instead.
"Nice day," I said.
He agreed, "Yea it is." He put his hand on my knee and began to rock it. "You should go in the water."
I could see that, as he rocked my leg, his penis was getting hard, the bud of it rising and pressing along his thigh, finally breaking loose and standing upright.
My own penis had followed his and pressed against my swim suit. His hand slipped over my knee and gently caressed the inside of my leg. I groaned.
"It must be lonely without your wife," he said softly as his hand slide on my belly and he leaned forward. I scooted down and put my hand on his knee. It seemed involuntarily move down his leg. He lifted his hips up and my hand encircled his cock.
"Oh, that is great, Mr. Buckley," he thrust into my hand spasmodically.
"Call me John, Chet," I let his thrust and felt his hand tug on my underwear.
When we kissed, it was as if the sun stopped in its trajectory. I stuck my tongue in his mouth and he thrust his into mine. I pressed my hips up and he tugged my underwear off. We turned so that his legs were crossed over mine, our chests together, our cocks rubbing against one another. His cock was wet with pre-cum and soon mine was too.
I never had felt anyone's cock against mine. It was wonderful. He groaned as I caressed his back and he pulled me closer. He was taking the lead. He pushed me away and smiled, and turned toward my legs and he pushed me away so he could gently take my erection in his mouth and I saw his, now its full height, not large but thick, and hard as I held it. I felt his mouth on mine cock and looking down, saw the rapture in his face, sliding back and forth and, with him as guide, slipped his into my mouth. It was startling warm and had a pleasant salty taste. I moved my head back and forth as he was, trying to keep with his gradual, persistent pace, stopping on occasion as he did and just sucking, until I could feel with my right hand, his testicles tighten, as mine had, and his thrusts became erratic and more intense.
He lifted his head, "You are wonderful. Let us do it together."
I looked down as he held his mouth over my cock, and I pumped into it. Then I put my mouth around his, which was taut, the veins distended, and as he began to pump, I steadied my head so he could thrust as he wanted. I could hear his moans and mine now. The semen was almost as if it could erupt and lash out across the lake. My balls were tight. I felt his hand on my buttocks and one finger slide into my anus. I did the same with him, my finger in the wet crevasse.
He stopped his thrust and looked at me.
"How does it feel?"
"I can't believe it," I said, my whole body shivering with excitement.
"Just wait a minute and breath," he instructed me as he rubbed in and out of my anus and, with his other hand, caressed my belly and legs. He came up and began kissing me. I fell back and looked at the sky. A few clouds drifted overhead.
It was as if I had stepped out of time. He stared at me and kiss my lips tenderly. He turned back and took my cock again, and I did the same.
His thrust became more precise as if he was aiming his ejaculations, perfecting where it would go, and I did too, making slow, precise long thrusts. When he stopped for a second and then began, I could see his abs were taut and he was moaning deep in his throat. Then it came a strong burst of semen in the roof of my mouth, a thrust, another, another longer thrust and another, which, in turn, I mimicked as he held firmed on my cock and I thrust and felt the semen released and then again and again, his mouth holding my tightly as he drank and I drank--it was hot and soothing.
The shimmer on the water ebbed with the rising breeze and dissipated across the lake. We must of lain there for fifteen minutes, each in our thoughts. When he sat up, he looked over to me and said, "Welcome home." I nodded. This was my new home. I had never known it. But he had. And I was going to stay for a very long time.