Sylvania Park Summer

by H.T. Bruhaus email: ht.bruhaus@yahoo.com December 24th, 2020

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Sylvania Park Summer: Part 6

My name is Everett Pettygrove. I am a fifty-five-year-old single gay man. Sylvania Park Summer is a series of sex stories that are pure fiction. They are concocted from my perverted imagination, but derived from my surrounding neighborhood of Sylvania Park. All of the participants are at least 18 years of age.

While you are reading the various stories I will be posting, you may notice that the neighborhood of Sylvania Park has a high proportion of young men who are either gay, or bi, or bi-curious. You might find that hard to swallow.

All I ask is that you suspend your disbelief for a brief moment and just go along with it. This is my fantasy and I choose to populate Sylvania Park with as many non-straight young men as I desire.

If it helps, you can pretend there is something unique in the air, or in the water, or in the underlying basaltic bedrock, that causes, at least temporarily, a certain degree of homosexuality to the young residents of this fine neighborhood.

Sylvania Park is a housing development situated on the southwestern city limits of Portland, Oregon. It is built on the sloping west side of an extinct shield volcano known as Mount Sylvania. The first home was built in this development in the year 1969.

Mount Sylvania really isn't a mountain, it's more like a large hill. The summit is just under 1000 feet. There is a small park at the summit. There are a number of trails and paths that wind through Sylvania Park, connecting the summit with several natural habitats and parks.

I like to make up stories about the young men who live in Sylvania Park. I fantasize about what they might be doing to each other in its backyards and on its trails and in its parks and behind its closed doors.

So, from my depraved imagination, I present, Sylvania Park Summer, a series of gay sex stories that happen in the neighborhood known as Sylvania Park during the summer of 2020.

Thanks, Everett Pettygrove

I came up with this sixth story as I was parking my car in front of a Starbucks and I saw this young man out front, sitting at a table with a hand down his shorts. I wondered what had got him so worked up. This is what I imagined:

Herman's Story

I'm lying naked in bed. I hear my parents moving around, getting ready for work. I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. My bladder is full. I need to pee. My cock is hard and throbbing on top of my abs. I move my hips slightly, rubbing my erection against the top sheet. "Fuck yeah." It feels good.

I reach under the sheet and grab the shaft of my cock in my fist. I hold it straight up. I make a tent of the sheet; my cock is the center pole. I push my hand forward. The head of my cock rubs hard against the underside of the sheet. I pull back and push forward again. The friction on my cock-head is incredible. "Yeah!"

I speed up. I continue to drag the head of my dick across the fabric. I can't believe how good it feels, but it's making a swishing sound. I'm worried I'm being too loud. I stop. I roll onto my stomach and thrust my cock against the mattress. I move my hips. I fuck the mattress. "Oh fuck." My bed starts squeaking as I rock back and forth.

I am definitely too loud. I stop fucking the mattress and roll onto my back again. I really need to piss, but I also really need to cum.

Every morning it's the same, I wake up with a boner. I'm not sure if it's because I'm eighteen years old and horny all the time, or if it's because I have to pee really bad.

It's a moot point either way. The end result is I'm going to have to shoot a load before I can pee.

I kick the sheet off of me. I hold my cock with just my thumb and index finger. I very slowly stroke up and down without making any noise. The feeling is awesome. I quietly moan. I need to stroke my cock faster, but I don't. I fight the urge. The pleasure intensifies. I stop stroking. I form a circle with my thumb and index finger and hold it around the edge of the head.

I whisper, "Fuck yeah." I squeeze a little. I just barely move my hand up and down. The feeling around the head of my cock is mind blowing. My cock is tingling. I'm right on the edge. I hold still. I whisper again, "I'm going to fucking cum."

I wave by cock back and forth, then stop. I don't move a muscle. My whole body tenses. I can feel my load building up. I concentrate on holding it back. I focus all of my attention onto my cock.

Then it begins. I raise my head. "Fuck!" My cock shoots a big spurt onto my chest. I start stroking again. More of my load comes out. I stroke until I am mostly satisfied, then let go of my cock. I don't want to drain my balls completely; I like to save some for later. This way, I can usually jack-off four or five times a day. My record is seven times in one twenty-four-hour period. I purposely wanted to see how many times I could do it in a day.

My cock is still hard because I have to pee really bad. I lie on my bed for a little bit. I rub the cum around on my chest. I want to stay there longer to enjoy the after-orgasm bliss, but I need to take a leak.

I get up and sit on the edge of the bed. There is a wad of jizz on the sheet next to my pillow. I bend over and lick it up, then go into my bathroom.

I turn on the shower and get in. The spray feels good on my back. I hold my hard cock so it is pointing upwards. I try to relax to get my piss flowing. It seems like it takes forever. Finally, I get a little bit of a dribble. Urine gets on my fingers. Then the flow increases and I start peeing on my abs and chest. "Oh, fuck that feels good." Sometimes peeing feels almost as good as cumming. The flow becomes steady and powerful. I move my cock back and forth, spraying piss across my chest. I aim my cock forward, holding it like a fire hose. My piss splashes off of the tiles. I moan. I swear I can hear angels singing.

Finally, I'm done peeing. My cock is now pretty much soft. I lather up and clean myself really good. I take my time. I just soak, enjoying the hot water on my body.

I get out of the shower and put on a pair of gray sweat-shorts without any underwear. I head downstairs, barefoot and shirtless.

The house seems empty. My parents have left for work. My brother is at camp and my sister usually sleeps until noon.

I fix myself a bowl of cereal and go outside to the front of the house. I sit on the steps in the sun, eating my cereal and looking at my phone. I check out some people I following on Snapchat.

I'm waiting for this hot jogger, Mr. Picard, to go by. He is a gorgeous 37-year-old stud, who is married to a fifty-year-old woman. As far as I know, he doesn't work, but his wife is some kind of bigwig department-head for the city. Mr. Picard usually shows up around nine. I check the time, nine-twenty-three. Maybe he won't jog by today. Then I hear him before I see him. He comes around the corner up the hill in the middle of the street.

He is wearing a white Nike tank top and red Nike shorts that have slits up the sides exposing his muscular thighs. He has on these minimalist running sandals that makes him practically barefoot.

I look directly at his crotch. His dick is clearly flopping around inside his shorts.

He sees me and waves. "Morning."

I wave back. "Morning Mr. Picard." I look at his ass as he passes and heads up the street. My dick gets hard. I set my cereal bowl down, then put my hand up through the leg of my shorts. I pull on the head of my dick. Fuck it feels good.

I picture Mr. Picard's cock flopping around and his butt practically hanging out of the back of his shorts. I pull the leg of my shorts up, exposing my dick. I spit into my hand and start sliding my fist over the shaft. "Mmmm."

I let go of my dick and drool a lot more saliva into my hand. I grab my cock again. "Fuck yeah."

A car slowly drives down the street. I cover my hard dick with both hands.

Mrs. Carson waves as she goes by.

I almost waved back. I just barely stopped myself.

After she passes, I return to fucking my slippery fist. I like jacking my cock in public. I guess I must be a pervert. I don't care. I point my cock forward towards the street. I squeeze the shaft as I slide my closed fist over it. It feels so fucking good.

I suspect this is what fucking an asshole feels like; a tight, slick grip, moving up and down the length of your cock.

I start to get that tingle. I slow down my strokes. I try to make the tingling sensation last a bit longer. I had just shot a load two hours ago, so it makes holding my nut somewhat easier.

I let go of my cock. It sticks straight out through the leg opening of my shorts. It starts to move up on its own. I clench my ass and curl my toes. My entire cock convulses. Yeah, that's what I'm working for. I slide my fist slowly down the shaft and over the head. My hand comes all the way off. My cock flips up and has two quick successive spasms.

I almost came. I whisper, "Fuck yeah."

I slide my shorts to my ankles. I should leave them down there so it would make it easier to pull them back up if someone were to go by, but I don't. I take them all the way off and set them on the step right next to me.

I look at the house across the street. The drapes are closed. I happen to know my neighbors are in Cabo right now. I think.

It doesn't matter. I lean back and stretch my legs forward. I spread them apart. I like being totally exposed in public. I spit into my hand again. Another car drives by. The driver is looking ahead, but a boy in the back seat sees me.

He gets a big smile on his face. He looks like he just won the lottery. I bet when he got in the car this morning, he wasn't expecting to see a totally naked teenager with a hard dick, splayed out in front of a house.

He leans out the window, looking at me as his mom continues driving down the street.

I wait until they disappear around the corner, then I grab my cock. I'm going to make myself cum now. I slide my clenched hand up and down the shaft. I bring my feet in close and press the soles against each other, opening up my pelvis and giving my nuts more room to bounce around. I squeeze harder and stroke faster. I sit up and lean forward. It feels too good. I can't hold back. I start cumming. "Fuck."

I shoot a nice load onto my feet. My cum feels warm on my toes. I rub my feet together and spread the cum around. There is some cum splatter on the steps and I use my foot to rub it into the concrete so there won't be any evidence.

I grab my shorts and stand on the porch; a light breeze blows across my naked body. I casually look around the neighborhood before I pick up my cereal bowl, then I go inside.

I take another shower. I dry off in front of the mirror. I like the look of my body. I am tall and lean. My body fat is something like 6%, so my muscles are really well defined, even if they aren't that big. I flex my bicep. I look hot.

I turn around and look at my butt. I spread apart the cheeks and look at my asshole. I clench my ass and watch my hole move. I let go of one cheek and push my cock down between my legs. My balls get squeezed apart and the head of my dick is in view.

Despite having just shot two loads in the last three hours, my dick begins to plump up a little.

I ignore my thickening cock and finish drying off. By the time I'm dry, my cock has returned to its normal flaccid state.

I put my gray sweat-shorts back on without boxers. I like the feel of my cock rubbing against the soft fabric as I move. It often makes me hard and I'm aware that some people can tell I have a boner, which gets me even more excited. Maybe it's inappropriate to be showing a boner through my shorts in public, but I've been told eighteen-year-olds are at their sexual peak. We can't really prevent spontaneous boners. Besides, people shouldn't be looking down there anyway.

I put on my yellow Under Armour short sleeve shirt. The hem hangs down below my crotch, so it helps a little bit in covering up any errant bones. I look under my bed for my Crocs. All I can find is one blue right-foot and one green left-foot. I don't feel like taking up any more time looking for a matching pair, so I put them on. Both of the colors are dark and kind of similar. I doubt anybody will notice.

I go downstairs and out to the garage. I find my sister's bike. It's a vintage Schwinn that belonged to our grandma. Ever since my sister got her own car, she won't ride it, besides, she never liked it anyway. I think this vintage Schwinn is cool and I get a lot of complements on it. My sister makes fun of me for riding a girl's bike, but nobody else cares and I sure don't fucking care. It actually makes sense for a boy to ride a girl's bike, because there isn't any bar to smash their nuts on.

I ride the Schwinn out of the driveway and head downhill towards the Starbucks at the shopping center. I need some caffeine.

I pick up speed. The wind feels good on my body. My shorts are flapping and cool air gets inside through the legs and onto my cock. By the time I get to Starbucks, I have a nice boner. Again.

I lock my bike to the rack out front and pull the hem of my shirt down over my tented shorts.

I look at my crotch. I use my better judgement, for once, and sit at a table out front to wait until my boner goes away. I think about the time I accidentally saw my grandma take off her blouse. Her bra was pink with lace.

I look at my crotch again. No more boner. I go inside. There is no line.

Craig is at the counter. He'll be a senior at Portland State this fall. He is super-hot, and when he smiles, he looks so fucking beautiful. "Hey Herman. The usual?"

"Hey Craig. Yeah"

"Okay, one Grande Salted Caramel Cream Nitro Cold Brew coming right up."

I pay with my phone as Craig writes my order on a cup and gives it to the barista. I continue to stand at the counter, smiling at Craig.

He smiles back. "Are you starting a new fashion trend?"

"What? Why?"

"Different colored Crocs."

I look down at my feet. "Um, not really."

"I like it."

"Thanks."

My drink is ready and Craig hands it to me. "Enjoy."

"You too." I don't know why I said that. I guess raging hormones makes a guy stupid. I take my drink outside and sit at a table. I look at my phone.

I slowly sip my coffee while writing comments on various social media posts. About an hour later I finish my drink. I have to pee really bad. I'm about to go inside to use the restroom.

Then Craig comes out. "Hey Herman. I have a break, mind if I join you?"

I look up from my phone.

Craig is holding a drink in his hand and smiling.

I smile back. "Sure."

He sits down. "What have you been up to this summer?"

"Not a fucking thing. I have a lot of free time on my hands."

"That sounds like paradise to me. What do you do all day?"

Jack-off.

Okay, I really didn't say that, but I wanted to. Instead, I said, "You know, goof off."

"I like to goof off."

The way Craig said that, made me think he was actually talking about jacking-off. I attempt to flirt. "Yeah, goofing off feels really good." I wonder if I did it right?

"Well, if you ever get tired of goofing off by yourself, you should give me a call. Okay?"

Hey. I think we are flirting. My dick suddenly gets hard. It's under the table. Craig has no way of seeing it. I put my hand on it and squeeze it through my shorts. In my mind, my boner confirms that we really are flirting. "Sure, I'll give you a call." Except I don't have his number. How can I call him?

"Here, let me put my number into your phone." Craig holds out his hand.

Ah, that's how the pros do it. I give him my phone.

He puts in his number. Then calls his phone. He takes it out of his back pocket. "Now I have your number." He gives back my phone.

Then from out of nowhere, it seems, five or six people go inside the Starbucks.

"Shit, I better go. Nice talking to you, Herman."

"You too, Craig."

He goes inside.

My dick is still hard. I put my hand up into the leg of my shorts and pull on the head. I think about my flirting with Craig as I look at his number on my phone. I'd sure like for him to jack me off. I discretely stroke my dick under the table. I believe I'll be able to cum right here.

Then this old dude drives up in a little red M.G. sports car and pulls into the space right in front of my table. The top is down and I hear Barry Manilow singing Copacabana.

The car is low to the ground and the old dude's eyes are at the same level as my crotch. He has a direct view of my hand inside my shorts under the table. He looks right at me as he turns the engine off and Barry abruptly stops singing. The old dude doesn't get out. He just sits there.

I pull my hand out from the leg of my shorts and "casually" rest it over the bulge of my dick.

I don't think I fooled him and I don't think he is getting out of his car any time soon.

I still have to take a leak and I need to get away from that old dude anyway. I stand up. My shorts are obviously tented. I don't fucking care. I go inside the Starbucks and into one of the two, single-user bathrooms. I lock the door. I really have to pee.

I pull my sweat-shorts down to my thighs and stand in front of the toilet. My hard dick pops out. There is no way I'll be able to pee into the toilet while standing. My boner won't let me.

I wish there was a urinal in here. Oh well.

I put the seat down and sit on the toilet. I lean forward and push my boner into the bowl. It just barely gets below the rim. I concentrate and eventually I start pissing. The urine splashes off of the inside of the bowl and some of it gets onto my fingers. It doesn't matter, it feels too good to finally piss. My boner slowly dissipates as I empty my bladder.

When I am finally done, I stand and flush the toilet, then wash my hands. I look at myself in the mirror. I pull my cock over the waistband of my shorts. I start to get hard.

I jack my cock. I pretend Craig is in here with me.

I kick off my ill-matched Crocs and strip my shorts all the way off. The floor is sticky and I can't help thinking I'm standing in piss. Then I take off my shirt. I am completely naked inside the Starbucks restroom.

The handle to the door rattles. I jump. The door is locked. I loudly say, "Occupied."

I hear an old lady's voice. "Sorry."

The idea of jacking-off with so many people right outside the door gets me more excited. I look at my naked body in the mirror. I put a finger in my mouth while stroking my dick. I turn around and stick my ass out. I watch as I slide my finger into my hole. "Mmmmm." I stroke my cock faster while fucking my ass with my finger. It feels so fucking good.

I pretend Craig is stroking me and finger banging me. I'm getting close. I moan.

Someone knocks on the door. I hear Craig. "Herman, are you okay?"

"Yeah." Craig's voice throws me over the edge and I start cumming. I try to be quiet, but I can't help moaning a little. I get cum on my hand and onto the floor. "Fuck yeah!" Shit. I might have said that a little louder than I had intended.

I go to the sink and wash the cum off of my hand. Then I try to wipe my cum off of the floor using my bare feet. It doesn't really work, so I get a damp paper towel and get on my knees to clean up my mess. Then I put my clothes back on.

I open the door. There is a line of people waiting for both restrooms. I quickly go outside. The old dude's car is still there, but he is gone.

While I am unlocking my bike, Craig comes up behind me. "Sorry about that. My manager asked me to check on you."

I turn around and look at Craig. He is grinning.

I politely smile back, "It's okay."

He gives me a quick tap on my crotch. "I hope everything came out alright."

"Um."

"Be sure you call me the next time you're goofing off." He goes back inside Starbucks before I can say anything.

As I ride the Schwinn uphill to my house, I think about Craig tapping my crotch. It felt good. It seems kind of an intimate thing to do to someone. He must like me.

The ride uphill isn't as fun as the ride downhill. This old Schwinn has only three gears and I have to stand on the pedals the whole time. I am breathing hard by the time I get home. I notice my sister's car is gone. It's getting warm now. I am sweaty and I decide to take another shower.

Afterwards, I go downstairs and fix myself some lunch. Then I relax and play video games.

Around three o'clock, my phone rings. It's Craig. "Hey Herman, I just got off work. Want to go for a ride?"

"Okay."

"Text me your address, I'll be there in five minutes."

"Okay." I text Craig my address and go out to the front of the house. It's getting hot in the sun, so in the meantime, while I'm waiting for him, I grab a spot of shade.

A few minutes later Craig pulls up to the curb and parks the wrong way. His car is an old Volvo station wagon. I bet it's older than I am. It's a faded maroon color and kind of beat up. The sunroof is open and all of the windows are rolled down.

Craig gets out and stands in the strip of grass that's between the sidewalk and the curb. He is still wearing his work clothes. He smiles, "Hey Herman."

"Hey."

He gives me a little hug. "Before we leave, I need to get out of these clothes. It's getting too hot."

"You can change in my room."

"That's okay. I'll be quick." Craig unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt and pulls it over his head. I look at his abs as the shirt gets pulled up and briefly exposes them. He is wearing a white tee-shirt underneath.

He tosses the shirt through the open back window of his wagon. Then he takes off his shoes. They remind me of my grandma's black mall-walkers. He strips off his socks, puts them inside his shoes and drops them into the back window as well.

He is wearing black Levi's. He unhooks his belt buckle and snaps open the fly. He pulls them down to his feet and steps out of them, then tosses the jeans into the back of his wagon with the rest of his work outfit.

He is now standing in front of me wearing nothing but a white tee-shirt and gray boxer-briefs. "Okay, let's go."

"Aren't you going to put on some shorts?"

"I forgot to bring them and anyway, my gray boxer-briefs don't look much different from your gray sweat-shorts."

I stare at his briefs, the color is the same as my shorts, but they have a pouch in front that is bulged out with his cock and of course there is an obvious black slit at the fly for pulling his dick through, not to mention the black waistband with the word "Hanes" written all the way around it. "You're right, they look exactly the same."

"Okay, that's settled. Get in."

I go around to the passenger side and sit. Craig starts the car and pulls into the street. He is driving while barefoot. Somewhere in the back of my mind I seem to remember it's against the law. I keep glancing at his crotch as we drive downhill. "Where are we going?"

"Nowhere." Craig squeezes his crotch.

I start to get hard.

Craig says, "I saw you go into the restroom with an obvious erection. I assume you jacked-off."

"Um."

"You have no idea how many times I've shot a load in there." Craig looks at me and smiles.

"Really?"

"I get so horny all the time. I bet you know how that goes."

"Yeah, I definitely can relate."

Craig puts his hand inside his boxer-briefs. "There is something about jacking-off at work. It's like I'm getting paid to cum."

I laugh as I watch him scratch his balls. "Does that make you a sex-worker?"

Craig laughs too. "I guess it does."

We turn off of the main road that goes through Sylvania Park and start driving down a winding two lane highway. There are lots of old trees amongst residential homes in this part of southwest Portland. We eventually turn onto a side road. The car stops at the end of a dead-end street next to a city park surrounded by old growth fir trees. It is cool in the shade and the park seems completely deserted.

"Here we are." Craig looks at me.

I look at Craig. I'm thinking, "Now what?"

He takes off his tee-shirt.

I look at his bare chest. His nipples are a dark brown. I'd really like to pinch one.

Craig looks down. He flicks his fingers across both nipples. He looks up at me and smiles.

I smile back.

He grabs the waistband of his boxer-briefs, lifts his butt off of the seat and pulls them down to his ankles.

His dick is hard and lying against his thigh.

He bends forward and strips his briefs over his feet, removing them completely. He is totally bare ass naked in the driver's seat. He strokes his hard dick. "I like to masturbate here. Go ahead and strip off your clothes."

I look at his boned-up dick and naked body. "What if someone walks by?"

"Yeah, sometimes they do, but they never look inside. They haven't a clue what's actually going on."

I look past Craig through his open window. There is a woman walking her Labrador in the park. Luckily, she is heading away from us. I pull off my shirt and take off my Crocs, then slide my shorts down my legs and all the way off.

Craig watches me the whole time while stroking his erection.

It is an awesome feeling to be naked next to Craig in his car in a city park. I stroke my dick.

Craig lowers his seat-back. I do the same. I can just barely see the park in this position.

Craig moans. "Fuck, I like jacking-off."

"Yeah, me too." I look at his dick while we talk.

Craig looks at mine. "How often do you do it?"

I start to breathe a little harder. It takes me a moment to answer. "Usually, between three and five times a day."

Craig starts to breathe harder too. "Same here. I like doing it in public."

"Yeah. That's the best."

"Let's do each other." Craig leans towards me and reaches over the handbrake in the center console. He grabs my dick and starts stroking me.

"Oh my god!" I get caught up in the incredible pleasure of someone else's hand on my dick and I neglect to stroke him back.

He grabs my hand and puts it on his dick. "Hey Herman, I want some too."

I squeeze his dick and move my fist over his shaft. His cock feels scorching hot. "Sorry."

Craig puts his head back and closes his eyes as I slowly jack him. He moans loudly. Then he looks at me and smiles. "It's okay, just don't stop."

"I won't Craig. I like jacking your cock."

"I like it too. It feels so good."

I'm breathing harder. "Yeah. I want to make you cum."

"Oh god yeah. You're definitely going to make me cum." Craig looks me in the eyes. "But not too soon. I want to enjoy the feeling."

"Me too. I'm not sure I can hold out for much longer, though."

"Try to make it last." Craig stops stroking me. He wags my cock slowly back and forth. "Do you ever edge?"

I moan before I answer him. "Fuck yeah I edge. It feels incredible to stall cumming."

Craig goes back to stroking me, but he just moves his hand very slowly in long strokes, pulling the skin of my dick from the base of my cock up to the head and back down again. "Let's try to edge each other."

"I'm not sure I'll be able to do that." I grab his wrist and stop him from jacking me. "I'm too excited right now."

"Okay. Tell me what to do." Craig smiles.

I smile back. "Okay. Just hold my cock and let me try to catch you up to how close I am."

"Fuck yeah. It won't take me too long, I think." Craig turns onto his side and pushes his hips forward. His hard dick extends over the handbrake.

I start stroking him. "Fuck I like jacking you. How does it feel?"

Craig moves his hips back and forth. "Oh my god! It feels so fucking good."

"Yeah? Are you getting close?"

Craig breathes harder. He doesn't answer me.

I stroke him faster. "Are you getting there yet?"

Craig quickly pulls away from me and sits back down in his seat. His dick comes out of my hand. He just barely holds it with his thumb and finger, pointing it straight up.

I watch as his cock has three short spasms in a row and a little bit of cum dribbles out of the head.

"Oh shit! That felt good." Craig looks at me and smiles. "You almost made me cum."

"I thought you just did."

"No. You got me right there on the edge. Believe me, you'll know when I shoot my load." He pinches the dollop of cum off of the head of his dick and puts it in his mouth. He smiles. "I'm going to try to bring you to the edge now."

"Fuck yeah. I'm ready." I get on my side and push my dick over the handbrake.

Craig lightly wraps his hand around my shaft. He slides it slowly up and down. His fingers sliding over the rim of my cock-head feels unbelievable.

"Go faster."

Craig ignores me. He keeps slowly sliding his fist over my dick. His fingers keep brushing over the rim of my cock-head.

"Oh my god! I'm close. I'm so fucking close. Please go faster."

Craig speeds up.

"Oh fuck!" I feel that tingling sensation that lets me know I'm about to cum, but I am unable to tell Craig to stop jacking me. I absolutely have to shoot my load right now.

Craig suddenly lets go.

I sit back down on my seat and try to stroke my dick, but Craig grabs my wrist and prevents me from doing it. My cock convulses once and shoots a spurt of cum up my abs and into my navel, but nothing more comes out.

"Fuck Craig, why'd you stop me."

"We're trying to edge. Remember? You're not done yet, are you?"

I put my finger in my belly button and scoop out some cum. I look at Craig while I suck the cum off of my finger. I lick my lips. My cock is still hard. "No. I still need to shoot some more."

Craig smiles. "That's why I stopped you. Make me cum now." Craig stretches out in his seat as far as his car will let him. He puts his hands behind his head and looks down at his pulsating dick.

"Oh god, I can't wait to make you shoot a load." I reach across the console and grab his dick in my right hand. I cross my left hand under my right arm and play with his balls as I stroke him.

"Oh fuck me. That feels so fucking good." Craig puts a finger in his mouth, then scrunches down on the seat. His butt sticks out over the edge. His knees bend under the steering wheel. His legs spread apart. He brings his hand down and inserts his finger into his asshole. His hand brushes against my hand that's holding his balls.

I stroke him faster. I press lightly on his balls and rub them in a circular motion. "Cum now. Shoot your fucking load now! Shoot your load!".

Craig moves his finger faster into his hole. His entire body convulses. "Fuck! I'm cumming! I'm fucking cumming!" He grabs my wrist with his other hand and stops me from jacking him. A spurt of cum shoots out of his dick and onto his chest. Then he forces my hand to jack his cock again.

I resume stroking his dick while rubbing his balls and he shoots again, this time it hits his shoulder. I keep stroking and he keeps shooting. Cum gets everywhere.

I slow down. Every time I stroke his cock, Craig shoots more cum, but in lesser amounts until there is no more cum left in him.

Craig looks at me. He smiles. "Oh my fucking god Herman. That was the best orgasm in my life." He scrapes cum off of his chest with his fingers and puts them into his mouth. "I want to make you cum like that now."

"Fuck yeah, I want you to make me cum like that too." I stretch out in my seat. I put my hands behind my head. I look down at my hard dick. "I don't think it'll be too difficult."

Craig grabs my cock and starts stroking me. "No shit."

I laugh, then scrunch down in the seat. My ass sticks out over the edge. I spread open my legs. I want Craig to put his finger in my hole, but I don't want to ask him directly.

He figures it out. He drools saliva onto his hand then rubs it against my hole. He keeps stroking me while his finger slowly penetrates my asshole.

"Fuck yeah. Put your finger inside me."

"Yeah!" Craig strokes my cock while finger fucking my hole.

It doesn't take me long; it feels too good. "Fuck! I'm going to cum! I'm going to fucking cum!"

Craig stops stroking my dick. He just holds it, but he continues to finger fuck my asshole. His finger presses hard against my prostate as it slides back and forth.

The tingle I get right before I shoot a load is amplified a hundred times. It is coming directly from my prostate. My cock starts shooting hands free. I feel my hole clench against Craig's finger as he pushes on my prostate. I shoot cum onto the Volvo's headliner and into my hair.

Craig resumes stroking my cock. I shoot more cum. It gets all over me and all over his hand. He pulls his finger out of my hole. He keeps stroking my dick until there's no more cum left in my nuts.

Craig falls back into his seat. He licks my cum off of his hand. "That was fucking amazing."

"Hell yes! I'm afraid I got some on the ceiling." I point over my head. There is a streak of cum that runs across the headliner and stops at the opening to the sunroof. "I think some of it went outside."

"That's alright. There probably isn't a spot in this car without any cum on it." Craig reaches behind his seat and feels around for something. Then he pulls out a dish towel. He tosses it to me.

I catch it and clean my load off of me. The towel is crusty from dried cum. "It's time you gave this a wash." I toss it back to Craig.

"You're right." Craig cleans himself up. We both put our clothes back on.

Craig returns his seat-back to the full upright position and puts the Volvo in gear. He starts driving.

I lay back in the passenger seat, my eyes half closed. "Let's get a pizza. I'm buying. How about Lucky Lab in Multnomah Village?"

"Sure. I'll have to put my pants back on."

"Yeah, you'll also have to put on those ugly mall-walkers."

"No I won't." Craig reaches behind his seat while still driving. He moves his hand around on the floor, obviously feeling for something. The car swerves left and right. We almost go into a ditch before Craig corrects it. "Here, see if you can find the other one."

He hands me an orange Croc.

I lean around to the center and try to look behind Craig's seat. I find a yellow Croc and pick it up. I hold it in front of Craig. "It's all I can find."

Craig parks the Volvo in front of The Lucky Lab. "Perfect!" He puts on the different colored Crocs. "Let's eat." He starts to get out of the station wagon.

"Um, Craig?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't forget your pants."

The End.

Everett Pettygrove Sylvania Park Summer 2020

H.T. Bruhaus. Portland, Oregon December 24th, 2020

Sylvania Park Summer is a story about a fifty-five-year-old man writing about stories he imagines happening in his neighborhood. The man is a fiction of my imagination. The neighborhood of Sylvania Park is also fictitious, but is actually based on a real neighborhood called Mountain Park.

Most of the features of Sylvania Park are true about Mountain Park. I expanded the neighborhood to give me more room and freedom to develop the stories.

You could actually go to Google Maps and search Mountain Park Oregon. It would take you directly to that neighborhood. You could go on street view and take a tour if you wanted.

Raise your hand if you've ever fallen in love with your Starbucks barista. I can't tell you how many times I've fallen in love with some of my baristas over the years. Also, the same with bank tellers, grocery clerks, cashiers, fast food workers, waiters; pretty much anyone in the service industry.

It's probably because they are required to be nice to me and they tend to be young.

I do like young men.

Occasionally, I would get this feeling that they liked me back. I never trusted that feeling, though. I assumed it was just customer service. Now that I'm old, I know for sure it's just customer service.

It's difficult to be old and horny.

Okay, not really. I still get to jack-off every day and there are young men out there who like us older guys. I don't understand it, but I gratefully accept it.

Here is the link to my directory on Nifty, just in case you would like to read some of my other stories.

https://search.niftyarchives.org/?keywords=bruhaus

You could also search "bruhaus" on Nifty's home page to reach my directory.

I enjoy getting feedback. Email me at ht.bruhaus@yahoo.com if you would like to contact me. I don't promise to write you back, but I do promise I will try to write you back.

Please send Nifty some money, if you haven't already. They deserve our support, just like you deserve to cum.

Thanks, Dave

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