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THE WILDMAN'S SURRENDER -- Chapter 1 by Neo leFay
I was beating off in my backyard the first time I caught the Wildman of Greyhall Mountain watching me. It was an unusually warm spring day and I was splayed out in an Adirondak chair celebrating the season with my dick in the air and my fatigues down around my ankles. I wasn't thinking about anything in particular, just listening to the forest, feeling my body up, and enjoying the sun on my balls.
All I wanted to do was relax and turn my brain off for a while, but a lifetime of military service had left me hardwired to be hypervigilant of my surroundings, so that wasn't always an option. A distant branch shaking out of time with the breeze was all it took to put me on alert. I've performed pretty much every body function there is in front of other men in my time, so it's not like I'm shy, but if I'd known there was an actual person watching me, I swear I'd have covered up. As the sole occupant of my family's deteriorating old hunting lodge however, I was surrounded by thirteen-thousand acres of undeveloped forest with no neighbors for miles, so my thoughts went to predator long before peeper.
The tree line was a good thirty yards from where I sat, but I was trained to read terrain for snipers, and thought I could make out hints of a dark shape in the shadows behind a bush. I'd never seen a wolf or a bear come this close to the property before, but we'd had a harsh winter, and hunger was a strong motivator. This is probably where most guys would have put their dicks away and gone inside, but with my ever-present Glock 19 holstered on the side table next to me, I was confident in my tactical superiority and stayed right the fuck where I was.
As a cloud moved over the sun, I lost track of the dark shape. My first instinct was to march over there and discharge a few rounds to scare away anything dangerous, but my slow-stroking hand had me feeling so mellow, I told myself I was overreacting to a trick of the light and took another hit from my joint. After a few repetitions of my calming PTSD mantra, my focus returned to the heavy sack-load I'd been edging out since breakfast. Another thing a guy develops during military deployment is the skill to make the most of any time he gets alone with his dick and a dirty thought. Since retiring and moving to the middle of nowhere at the ripe old age of thirty-nine, I'd learned to embrace the indulgence of long, leisurely sessions.
I tried to put it out of my mind, but I couldn't help thinking how hot it would be to stare into a wolf's eyes as I blew my load. Show it who the real alpha is. I kept my eyes on the bushes as my flopping balls tightened up, warning last call to back off my rapidly approaching monster load. My stoned mind had me imagining a wild animal watching me get myself off, and it made my fat mushroom head leak more. I don't know how my tool would measure up against a wolf's, but between sports and the service, I've seen miles of dick in my life and I'd take mine over any of them.
My beast is just long enough to be long -- about seven and a half inches the last time I participated in a barracks measuring contest -- and a nice thick girth that lands in most pussies' sweet spot past "oh wow" and just shy of "hell no." It's a perfect boyfriend dick, if your boyfriend is a fucking stud. Sure, a few women had complained it was too much, but for every one of them, ten guys complimented it in the showers. On missions where I didn't get to shower with the enlisted men, I always find... found an excuse to flop out my full package and piss in front of them to establish dominance. My balls are a little too big to be comfortable for most guys, but I like to think that all that extra testosterone helped carve my body into the muscular physique that made me so great at my job, so I let them swing with pride. I just wear a jock to keep them close when I'm active, and turn the AC up high when I'm fucking -- not that I've done that in a while.
The next time a bush shook, to my surprise, I actually spotted a pair of pale eyes starting out at me from behind it. My shock put me over the top and the first rope of cum shot out of my dick so hard it flew up over my head. It must have been pretty impressive, because the shape in the bushes smiled and the dirty face was split by a set of straight white teeth that didn't belong to any animal.
Thanks to my hair-trigger reflexes, I immediately leaned forward to stand up from the low lawn chair, but I was still cumming so hard that my dick didn't get the message to shift gears in time. My face was directly over my lap when the orgasm really hit and a hot gob of my own jizz launched up and splattered across my lips. Naturally, I gasped, leaving my idiot mouth open for the next salvo to fly right in and crash land on my tongue.
I might have sat there shaking off that load forever if my would-be predator hadn't stood up from behind the bushes, exposing himself to me in all senses of the word. My voyeur wasn't an animal; it was a twenty-something musclehead, naked as the day he was born. What I'd thought was dark fur was actually a camouflage of dried mud and forest debris slathered over every inch of his bare skin. I'm just about the straightest guy in the world, but I have no problem admitting the young man was a hell of a specimen.
He was taller than me -- which is saying something -- and piled with the kind of carved muscle rarely seen outside of a comic book. His long hair and scraggly beard were slicked down with mud, as was the impressive pelt of chest hair that spread down his torso like an arrow leading to his incredible main event. Sprouting from a hearty bush that no amount of mud could hide, his uncut fuck stick stood at full attention in front of him, every bit as big and hard as my own.
When the buff young intruder gripped his dick and pointed it in my direction, my readiness training finally kicked in. I jumped to my feet and my rod bobbed up and down, flicking the last of my load between my abs and the patio stone.
"Who the hell are you?!" I shouted.
My cum spread around in my mouth as I spoke. I'd never even licked the stuff off my ex-wife's tits before, but now some trespasser had just watched me guzzle it straight from my own tap. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me gag and spit, so I swallowed the mouthful down. I guess a little of my post-orgasm bliss still lingered, because the taste of my concentrated masculinity was so good, it triggered an electric aftershock of pleasure I tried not to show. Nothing wrong with liking your own brand, I guess.
The huge young man took a few steps forward, his attention focused entirely on my wagging cock.
"Where did you come from?" I said.
He dragged his gaze up from my crotch to look me in the eye and we stared each other down. I expected him to try to challenge me at first, but now that he was in the sunlight, I saw a certain vacancy in his expression that I recognized from my time with head injury victims at the V.A. There was nothing threatening in the young man's gaze, there just wasn't any candle power behind it. This was no frat-boy out for a streak. The word that came to my mind was wildman.
Without breaking eye contact, he started stroking his huge cock. I was so surprised, I just kept staring at his eyes so I wouldn't have to look directly at what he was doing. As a crooked grin crossed his face, I wondered if I had been the subject of his masturbation fantasy, as he'd accidentally been in mine. His eyes returned to my crotch and his grin grew broader. I didn't have to look down to know that my cock was still at full attention.
Not to be outdone in my own backyard, I scratched my balls and played with them a little, making my still-hard dick bob in front of me. The smiling wildman seemed to like that and his hand moved faster. I had no idea who this guy was, but I hadn't cum back to back on one hard-on in years, and if letting him watch me do it was the price for that insane level of pleasure, I didn't give a fuck. He started it.
I jerked my dick to the wildman's fast pace, I could feel that eye-popping second load getting ready in my nuts fast, but he got there first. With a grunt like a roar, he shot the biggest load I'd ever seen in my life. Eyes glued to my crotch, he shot rope after rope of cum in so much volume I almost thought he was pissing. When he was done, I looked away to think about my ex, not wanting to be staring at some muddy young Hercules when I came. My eyes rolled back in my head as I got there.
I'm not sure how much jizz I actually shot, but I was seeing fireworks for a few seconds there. When my eyes could finally focus again, for the second time in minutes, I saw someone new staring back at me from the woods. Behind the wildman, a smaller, younger, equally muddy, equally naked version of him was standing among the trees, beating his meat like he'd just learned how to do it. I'd showered with enough boys recruited fresh out of high school to recognize a skinny body in the first stages of packing on adult muscle, and this kid was barely there. It was impossible to be sure with all the mud, but if he was over eighteen, it wasn't by much. He looked like he still had growing to do.
The wildman sensed my shift in mood and hugged the wildboy to his side, protectively. They had the same long, mud-matted hair and massive bush, but the boy's slim body appeared otherwise hairless under the mud. They looked enough alike that I assumed they were brothers at first, but what happened next left me unsure. The wildboy never stopped beating off. Instead, he leaned into the embrace, buried his face in the wildman's muscular armpit, and humped his young prick furiously against the big man's leg.
The wildman never took his eyes off me, paying no mind as his teen sidekick whimpered and blew a thick load all over his hairy thigh. It was a non-event to him, but it was a step too far for me. I was down for some spontaneous bro fun with a fellow alpha, but that kid should be in high school, not running around naked in the woods spying on me jerking my dick and babbling in tongues. I'm a decorated soldier, damn it.
All I could think to do was shout, "What the fuck?! Kid, are you okay?"
It took the boy's hormone-addled mind a moment to react to the anger in my voice, but the elder wildman was spooked enough that he stepped in front of the boy.
I blame the weed for my overreaction. The wildboy didn't really seem to be in distress, but I was humiliated after what he'd just seen, and that made me desperate to take some shred of control.
"Let him go!" I shouted.
The wildman didn't react fast enough, so I stupidly grabbed my handgun and shot a couple rounds into the air. He pivoted and ran into the forest almost immediately, but his post-nut little buddy wasn't quite as agile. The recent rains had left the ground so slick that the wildboy slipped and fell the moment he tried to run. He scrambled madly to get back up, but he couldn't get his feet under him in his panic. As pissed off as I was, the kid was so scared, I actually felt bad for him.
I was half-way across the lawn when I slowed down and pointed my gun at the ground to show I wouldn't shoot.
"I'm not going to hurt you," I said.
I don't know if he heard me, but he definitely didn't believe me. All at once, the fight went out of him and he stopped trying to stand. Head bowed, he maneuvered himself onto his knees, bent forward, and put his bare ass up in the air. I thought he might be injured, but then his hands reached back and he spread his quivering ass cheeks until I could see his rosebud winking at me in the breeze. The cleft of his crack was probably the only part of him not covered in mud.
I didn't recognize the frightened gesture for what it was and I wouldn't until the elder Wildman made me the same offer months later. That first time, I was just confused.
"Are you mooning me, you little shit?" I yelled.
With an animal roar, the wildman burst out of the bushes and helped his desperate friend up to his feet. By the time I reached the trees and my eyes adjusted to the shade there was no trace of them. I was so embarrassed that I kept tracking them through the woods until my balls ached and my bare ass was too sunburned to go on. They'd never have gotten away from me back in my prime.
It would be snowing the next time I saw the wildman up close. Our dicks were out and hard that time, too.