Warning: the following story contains graphic descriptions of sex between consenting adult males. If you are underage or do not wish to read such materials, or if reading this sort of material is illegal in your jurisdiction, then read no further. If you have any feedback or encouragement, feel free to drop me a line at niftyguy_30307@yahoo.com. I appreciate the emails! (That's how we authors know guys are reading.)
The air is hot and moist, rich with the smell of decay, pulsing with life. As I walk down the path, branches and vines brush up against me, touching me, exploring me. Leaves play across my arms and legs, and a gentle breeze blows across my face. Slowly but surely, the path narrows down to a mere thread, and the jungle folds in on top of me. I am not afraid. I am wide awake. The deeper I go, the more I want the green tendrils to snake over my whole body, over my bare skin. I unbutton my shirt and unzip my shorts, and my clothes melt away, absorbed in the spongy earth of the jungle floor. Now the branches and the vines, the leaves and the flowers, are all free to stroke my naked arms and legs, chest and butt, cock and balls, as I walk, and turn, and squat, and stretch. Thick, ropy shoots slide over my limbs, down my back, through the crack of my ass. A fleshy white flower opens temporarily before closing over and encasing my erection, coating it with slippery juice, squeezing and milking it. As the vines lift me up off the ground, carrying me to the sky, I know that I am in heaven. . .
A hint of sunlight. A suggestion of morning. Soft, even breathing to my left. The same to my right. Reaching out with one hand, I slide up and over a smooth, firm butt. On the other side of my body, my foot traces the curve of a strong leg. Sandwiched between Beau and Randy, there's no room to move, no reason to move. We are all right at home, all together now.
Lying there, I tried my best to remain still, so that I wouldn't disturb my young companions, but either my stirring or the persistent rays of light were enough to draw first Randy, and then Beau, out of their dreams. Arms and legs stretching, eyes squinting, rolling, yawning, scratching, testing the morning wood, all three of us gave in to the inevitability of morning.
"Time's it?" Randy asked, groggily turning my way.
Before I could focus my eyes on my wristwatch, the clock in the downstairs hall started marking its time. Eight chimes.
"Fuck," Randy groaned. "I'm s'posed to be up at the Chatham place right now. Why'd you two assholes let me sleep so late? That old fart'll really bust my balls now." He jumped out of bed and started sorting through the heap of clothes on the floor, looking for his own.
I looked at Beau and winked. "Well, I guess that Beau and I could have sent you to the guest room with an alarm clock last night, at least after round one."
"Hell no, old man! I'm not gonna let the two of you have all the fun." More or less clothed now, Randy grabbed his shoes and sat down on the old leather chair in the corner of the room. "So Beau, can I just borrow your car and leave it in the square? My truck's still there from last night, and I gotta haul my ass, or it's gonna be in a sling."
"Sure, no problem. I'll walk over and get it later, after Jeff here feeds me some breakfast. Just leave the keys under the mat."
Randy retrieved the car keys from the pocket of Beau's shorts, said his goodbyes, bounded down the stairs and out the front door, and Beau and I were suddenly alone. Turning onto my side, I reached out and pulled him up against me, molding his body to mine. Draping one arm over his chest, I idly traced a path from one nipple to the other, and then down the valley between his pectorals to points further south. He propped his leg up and reached through, guiding my revived cock to rest right below his balls. Squeezing his thighs together, he created just the right amount of pressure to produce some very nice sensations as I rocked back and forth, in and out. Not wanting to neglect my own responsibilities, I began to very gently, almost teasingly, tug at his cock, smearing the slippery fluid he was leaking back and forth over the head, lightly tracing the circumference of the ridge that formed the boundary between the shaft and the bulbous head, squeezing the shaft between my index and middle fingers.
Lying there, relaxing and enjoying the quiet contact, I was not particularly focused on getting anybody off, either myself or Beau. The feel of his warm, smooth body pressed up against mine, the raspy sensation of the hair on my chest against his back, and the tiny electric jolts that went through my groin when he stroked my slick cockhead as it repeatedly popped through his thighs, were more than enough to keep me content. I think that I could have spent the whole day lazing around like that, listening to the ragged rhythm of his breathing as his excitement ebbed and flowed. Eventually, however, the very audible growling of Beau's stomach interrupted our solitude.
"It sound like I should make you some breakfast," I murmured in his ear.
Beau squeezed my cock. "I don't know. I suppose I could just chow down on this sausage."
"Maybe. But I should probably give you some carbs before you get any more meat."
I grabbed two of my uncle's old silk bathrobes from his closet (red for Beau, blue for me), and we made our way down to the kitchen, where I started the coffee dripping and cranked up the toaster. Parked at the big old farm table, Beau watched in silence as I pulled our breakfast together. Sitting with his legs spread wide, he had allowed his robe to fall open, intentionally or not. Just the tip of his semi-hard cock peeked into view, creating a dilemma for me as I struggled to keep my own erection under control.
"How do you take your coffee?" I asked.
"With cream, if I can get it."
I filled his cup with hot, steaming coffee and set it down in front of him, before piling a plate with buttered toast and retrieving a pot of strawberry jam from the refrigerator. As I set the food down, he boldly reached into the folds of blue silk fabric that more or less covered me and extracted my cock.
"Maybe I can get some cream out of here," he said looking up at me. Very slowly he took my growing erection into his mouth, sliding his lips down the length until I was buried completely inside. Pulling back off, he paused to get a good look at my now almost painfully hard cock before once again inhaling me to the root. Up and down he sucked, in no apparent hurry, and enjoying every moment.
I unfastened the knotted silk cord that was tied around my waist, allowing the robe to hang wide open, exposing my body. "Open your robe up," I said, and Beau quickly complied, putting himself on display. His own ripe prick bobbed up and down, needing no direct touch to bring it to full mast. He was so sexy, sitting there sucking me, I could hardly stand it.
"You know what," he said, pulling off me and looking up. "Your cock tastes so fucking good just by itself, but I'm gonna try it with some of this sweet stuff." Reaching into the pot with a silver spoon, he brought out a big dollop of the preserves. After spreading it generously along the top of my shaft, he began to noisily lick and suck every bit of the sticky red jam. "Mmmm, mmmmm, fuck you taste good."
It would be an understatement to say that Beau's attention was having a pretty strong effect on me. My guess was that this pre-breakfast fun could end in only one very pleasurable way. My guess, unfortunately, was wrong. Right at that most inopportune time, the doorbell rang. I contemplated just ignoring it, but before long I could hear someone pounding and calling my name. Very reluctantly, I eased out of Beau's mouth and did my best to cover myself up.
"It sounds like I should get that before they wake the dead. Why don't you eat your toast while I deal with whoever it is, and then I'll give you something else to eat."
"I'll be waiting," Beau said, grinning slyly. "But you'd better not take too long."
Trying to will my erection to go down to a manageable size and angle, I trotted down the long hall to the front door. Pulling aside the curtain on the adjacent window, I was surprised to see my young neighbor, Toby Wilson, standing there. I shook my head in disbelief. When it rains, it really does fucking pour. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door, taking care to hide as much of my body as possible behind its heavy wooden bulk.
"Hey Toby, good morning, what brings you out so early?"
"Hey Mr. Jeff," he said nervously, shifting his weight from side to side. "I was walkin' down to my job at the Mr. Hamilton's service station this morning, and Mr. Hamilton himself drove by and asked if I'd seen Beau around, and I told him that I thought that his car'd been parked here last night, and again this mornin', and he told me to get up here and find out if Beau's here, but now I don't see his car nowhere." Like apples from a suddenly upended bushel basket, Toby's words came tumbling out one on top of the other.
I thought for a moment before deciding that Toby didn't really need to have confirmation that Beau had spent the night. I opened the door a little wider and looked out, scanning up and down the street.
"Well, the only car I see is my rental. If I happen to run into Beau later, I'll sure let him know that his grandfather is looking for him. You can certainly tell Mr. Hamilton that."
Toby broke into a wide, toothy grin. "I'll be sure and do that, Mr. Jeff. Sorry to bother you so early in the morning."
"No problem, Toby. You have a good day, OK?"
He nodded and touched the brim of his cap before turning away. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief as I shut the door. When I got back to the kitchen, Beau was calmly finishing off his breakfast, apparently unruffled by the interruption. Suddenly famished, I sat down and grabbed a piece of toast. In between bites, I explained what had transpired at the front door. The news that his grandfather had been looking for him was enough to put a sour look on Beau's face.
"That's none of his goddam business, where I'm spending the night. He just won't stop until he's got a finger in every pot. Everybody says that's why my daddy ran away, and I'm beginning to understand why he would've."
"Well, I just don't want to make any trouble for you."
Beau snorted. "You can't make any trouble for me that I wasn't gonna get into myself. Besides, he can't come after us for anything we've got going on. You're the one person in this town who's got something that my granddaddy wants."
"Really? What's that?"
Beau furrowed his brow. "I'm not sure exactly, but I know that he wants to buy you out real bad, worse than I've ever seen. There's something you've got that he wants. And I've never seen him not get what he wants."
I smiled. "It seems like you're pretty good at getting what you want, too. It must run in the family."
Beau reached out and put his hand on my bare knee. "Yeah? Well, I'm gettin' some more ideas, just sitting here. You about ready to go upstairs?"
I pretended to think long and hard. "Well, OK, if you insist. But we're not going back to the bedroom."
"Oh really?"
"Yes, really. Thanks to somebody, I'm feeling kind of sticky, and I think I'm going to do something about it in the bath."
It didn't take much to convince Beau to join me up in the big upstairs bathroom. An enormous freestanding tub, which was nearly as big as my whole bathroom in New York, thoroughly dominated the black and white tiled room. I rustled us up some towels as warm water poured in, mixing with the bath oils I had added to create a very inviting foam. I loosened my robe and turned to Beau, drawing him towards me as I opened the silk folds that covered his body.
"You ready to jump in?" I asked.
He slipped his arms around me and pulled his body against mine, causing our erect cocks to make electric contact with each other.
"I'm ready to jump into just about anything with you."
I slipped into the water first, spreading my legs open so that there would be plenty of room for him to position himself there, comfortably leaning against me. The tub really was enormous, enabling us to wriggle around until we had found a completely comfortable position. My cock was wedged between his lower back and my stomach, creating enough pressure so that each movement sent a very pleasant sensation radiating out from my groin. I slipped my arms under his and around his body, enabling my hands to roam across every square inch of sudsy territory, from his cock up to his chest.
We just soaked for a while, chatting about what he was studying in college and what my life was like up in New York. As we talked, I idly used one hand to toy with his erection and the other to trace a route across his flat stomach and up to his wiry pecs. Beau, meanwhile, seemed to understand intuitively that he could make me a very happy man just by rocking ever so slightly back and forth, left and right. There was nothing hurried, or desperate about our movements; I guess that we both knew instinctively that a slow burn would eventually lead to a very intense explosion.
Soon enough, though, Beau started squirming a little more, and then even a little more, as his body began unconsciously to communicate its building need for release. I moved to stroke the inside of his thighs, and he responded by pulling back his legs, enabling him to reach down into the water and play with his asshole.
"Hmmm, what're you working on there?" I murmured in his ear as he flinched a little from the contact his hand was making with the sensitive flesh.
"I'm just, I'm just getting' kinda turned on," he whispered huskily. "Your cock felt so good in there last night. . . I think I want it up there again."
"OK, but I want you to get it ready for me, work on it until you really want me up there. Okay?"
Beau nodded and proceeded to hoist himself up. He quickly grabbed the small tub of Vaseline that stood on the adjacent vanity before lowering himself back down into the tub. Making more than a few waves, he straddled me, offering up his perfect, hard cock for easy sucking. As he began to smear the Vaseline over his asshole, I used the handsprayer to rinse the suds off of his cock and balls before nuzzling in for a taste. I don't know who enjoyed it more as I went to work on him. His groans and gasps were pretty clear evidence that my lips and tongue were getting the job done, but I was on cloud nine sucking what was, in my mind anyway, the sexiest dick I'd ever tasted. Maybe not the biggest, thickest, or longest, but definitely the most bone-raising. His cock was pure, distilled, raw sex.
And yet getting off in my mouth was clearly not what he had in mind. As soon as he had his hole sufficiently stretched, he scooted back, positioned my hard cock right up against his back door, took a deep breath, and impaled himself. There was no hesitation, no whimpering or whining, not a hint of struggle; he just pushed himself straight back until I was completely buried inside of him.
"Oh God, oh God, that is so fucking sweet, I just can't fucking stand it." He rocked forward, emptying himself back out, stopping when only an inch or so of my dick was still inside. "Ooooooh," he groaned as he rocked back, pausing intermittently to taste the sensation of contact between me and a very particular spot inside of him. To be honest, I was so unbelievably turned on by the sight of this unbelievably sexy young man using my hard cock exactly the way he wanted to, that I had an overwhelming urge to take over and just fuck him up one way and down the other. Somehow, though, in some way, I was able to restrain myself and allow him to learn what he needed to learn.
We continued like that for a while, but in due course Beau decided that he had exhausted the possibilities of that position and was ready for a new one. Hoisting himself up, he squatted with his ass directly over my groin, and I thrust up to spear him just as he dropped down to meet me. The sensation of pumping into him was totally, unbelievably toe-curling. Fighting to keep focused as he and I both bounced up and down, I reached out and began to jack his cock, which seemed to pulsate with the heat of his desire. The two of us were moving totally in sync with each other, creating waves of pleasure that rippled through our bodies, in time with the waves of warm water that flowed over us.
I could see Beau's orgasm coming from a mile away; his big, egg-shaped balls had drawn up against his body in a tight package as they prepared to pump out their molten contents. Trying to help him out, with each stroke I took special care to thrust right up against his young prostate, creating a friction that he just could not ignore. One more stroke with my hand, one more, and finally one more, and he let out a deep, guttural groan, one that started in his belly and worked its way out, and he just let loose, hosing me down from my chin to my belly button.
That was all I needed to see to crumble any reserve I might have, and I started to absolutely pound him, focused on only one thing, my need for immediate relief. And by God, that's what I got, thrusting, and twisting, and pumping deep inside of him, flooding every square inch of his anal canal with my hot, white spunk. As I came, my eyes rolled back in my head, causing my field of vision to sweep across Beau's face, which was still showing an expression of sheer bliss.
Very slowly, very carefully, Beau lowered himself down on top of me. It probably took no more than ten seconds for him to come to rest, but it felt like ten minutes, as time expanded and my whole body throbbed with the afterglow of a truly monster orgasm. He placed his lips against mine, and I slipped my tongue inside of his mouth, instinctively wanting to continue to be inside of him.
We kissed for a few minutes until Beau pulled back so that he could look at me.
"I thought we were going to get cleaned up, Yankee man."
I slowly eased my slightly deflated cock out of his ass. "Oh, I think you're mighty clean now, inside and out. But if you think you need another bath, just give me thirty minutes or so, and I'll be available."
Beau slid his wet, soapy body across mine. "I think I'm ready right now."
I reached down and felt his still hard cock. I couldn't help but laugh.
"What's so funny?"
"I was just thinking what a fine example of young, sturdy, Southern manhood I've got here. I might just have to take you back up to New York with me." I just might, I thought silently to myself. I just might.