Tying Flies oregonbear9@gmail.com
This story contains graphic adult male to male gay sexual content. If this offends you or it is illegal for you to read this, please leave this site.
I'd been casting at the top of the pool for about an hour, my line sparkling a bit in the morning sun. I'd had a few bites, and one trout leaped out of the water just about ten yards from me, making the morning just about perfect.
The day had started just right, with me waking up in my tent at the campsite next to the river, the eastern sky turning gold with the promise of sunshine and a day of fly fishing on my favorite river. I soon had the coffee brewing, and found myself shivering a bit in the morning chill, sipping my first cup from my favorite camp mug by the bank of the river.
The hour of casting my line out into the river, and me wading around a bit, finding just the right place to cast, had started to renew my spirit, and the tightness in my shoulders and neck from the daily routine of work, and commuting and living in the city had gone away.
Now, it was just me and the river, and the sunshine, and the occasional pair of nesting geese that flew up and down the river, honking a bit in their joy of the day. It was warming up enough that I'd be shedding my thermal underwear top and flannel shirt, and I'd soon be stripped down to just my shorts and waders for the afternoon fishing. This would be a good week to get a good start on my summer tan.
It was coffee time again, and I waded back to the shore, leaning my pole against a big pine tree, next to my camp site. As I fired up the camp stove for another cup of coffee, I saw a guy headed my way. I'd had the area to myself yesterday afternoon, as I drove into the campground, and I was looking forward to a week of just fishing, and sipping a little of my favorite Scotch and watching the stars over the wild river, all by myself.
He had his fly pole in his hand, and said a cheery hello through a reddish blond beard that covered his jaw and chin. Several days of stubble covered his neck and up onto his cheeks.
"Morning," he said. "Any luck?"
"No, not yet," I replied, "But any day fishing is a lucky day."
"You got that right?" he smiled. "I can't wait to take the first cast. What a beautiful day."
We talked a bit, about what flies to use, and what kind of bugs were hatching out on this fine spring day. The nights were still frosty, so the usual spring hatches had just started getting underway.
I invited him to have a cup, and I added some more water in the pot. He looked out over the river, checking out the drift and scouting a good place to fish. He was a big guy, his thick, hard chest filling out his flannel shirt. I could see a nice tuft of reddish blond hair pushing out of the top of his shirt, and I took in the couple of days of stubble on his neck and cheeks. The morning light would catch on the whiskers, glinting in the soft light of this spring day. His beard was neatly trimmed, but I could tell he was going for the full wild beard that a lot of guys preferred when they had some time off.
We talked, as the water boiled and the coffee perked, about fishing and the type of flies we were using. A pair of geese flew up the river and we paused to take that in, reminding both of us why we were here.
Dave, as I came to know him, after the first mug of coffee, was from the city, a numbers cruncher and manager. We laughed at not introducing ourselves right away, being caught up in talking about fishing and enjoying a mug of coffee and just being outside on a beautiful day. We moved past our resumes pretty quickly, getting back to the subject at hand, enjoying ourselves, just two fishermen on the riverbank, nursing some good coffee and taking in the day, a day we had all to ourselves.
It was warming up pretty quickly, and we both shucked our heavy flannel shirts as the sun brightened up the log we were sitting on, looking over the river. The morning bite was over now, and Dave mentioned he'd been wanting to take a walk up on the ridge, and follow a side stream up to a waterfall he'd heard about.
That sounded like a good idea to me, and we soon packed a lunch and tossed it into our day packs, and I grabbed my binoculars. We'd pretty much decided we'd camp together, and Dave had walked back to his pickup and drove back to my camp, where we changed into shorts and T shirts.
I got a good look at Dave's thick, muscular chest, matted with more of his reddish blond hair, his fat nipples, and the thick forest of fur that led down to his belt line. For a guy who held down a desk for a living, he was in good shape. My cock stirred a bit, thinking of what more I'd like to see of Dave, and what it might be like sucking on his cock, and rubbing my beard through the pungent thatch of fur that covered his balls and surrounded his hard, aching cock that would be slipping and sliding through my lips and along my eager tongue.
I'd be wanting to plow his hard butt cheeks and hole with my cock, too, later on in our dance in the fading evening light, the camp fire dying down, turning to red hot coals, as we'd be moaning and panting, getting ready to spill our seed across the thick fur of our sweaty bellies and chests, or splattered across an eager tongue, a few wads of cum spurted into a beard or across a hardened nipple.
We hadn't gotten on the subject of sex yet, or even if Dave was interested in that sort of thing with a guy, but my cock was pretty excited about the topic. I'd been without a man in my life for far too long to be not thinking about getting laid as often as I could, especially if it was with a good looking guy like Dave.
I wasn't sure if Dave liked men in the way I liked them, but I caught him taking a look at my crotch and my ass, when he didn't think I was looking I didn't see a wedding ring on his hand, and he hadn't mentioned any family when we talked just a bit about what life was like when we weren't being fishermen on a fine spring day.
It was enough that we were just enjoying the day, and we soon found ourselves walking along the river and taking a trail up a creek that joined the river, about a quarter of a mile upriver from our camp. Here, the brush of the river bank gave way to a forest of thick pine, and a few mountain spruce and aspen. The splashes and gurgles of the river gave way to the quiet of the forest, broken every so often by the rat-a-tat-tat of a woodpecker looking for a bug.
I was breaking into a sweat, so I stopped to slip off my T shirt, and Dave did the same. His furry chest and armpits were wet now, and I caught a good whiff of his sweat, mixed in with the smells of the pine and the blooming shrubs that lined the creek we were following.
"You sure keep yourself in shape for a desk jockey," I said, admiring Dave's shoulders and biceps, and the leanness of his belly. There was a nice bulge in his hiking shorts, too, and I tried not to think what pleasures lurked there, under the cloth and the nice little zipper that my fingers were itching to tug down a bit.
In my mind, I felt the heat of his crotch and took in the slightly rank smell of a man's sweat on a warm day in the forest, my own cock swelling a bit at the thought of being with a man in a nearby opening in the forest, where the sun and the drying pine needles would feel good on my naked skin, as I took him deep into my hungry lips, his thick, wiry pubic bush snagging in my moustache hairs. It would be just us, and maybe a blue jay looking on, as we played around, doing what I like doing best.
"Well, I work out a lot," Dave said. "I'm pretty much of a gym rat, and it's a good way to get rid of the stress of the office."
"You look like you're in good shape, too," he said, taking a good eyeful of my chest and belly. "I bet you find it pretty easy to get some action whenever you want, too."
We laughed, and I just nodded.
"Well, not for a while. The last guy I dated moved away about a year ago and I've been single for a lot longer than I want to be," I said.
I really didn't care about whether or not people found out I was gay or not. Long ago, I had gotten tired of not being able to be who I really was, and if people didn't like the real me, well, so what. Life is short and I want to just be happy, and playing that game of who you are and who you like to sleep with, and not being honest about it, well, it's just silly.
"Yeah, I know what that's like," Dave said, the humor gone from his face, a bit of sadness creeping into his blue eyes.
I wasn't sure what to say to that, so I didn't. I just let it drop, and become part of the quiet of the trail and the peace and the beauty of this place. Dave was a lot like me, I thought, a guy who was fully himself in a wild, peaceful place such as this, a place he could just be himself.
Dave took the lead up the trail, his muscular back and shoulder muscles flexing as we walked up the hill to where the falls were. Already, we could hear the roar of the water. I was working up a thirst for some cold mountain creek water, and a good splash of it on my face, the cold water dripping through my beard into the fur of my sweaty chest.
In a few more minutes, the falls came into sight, running fast in the melting of the winter snows higher up the ridge. The water sparkled in the sunlight through the big pines, and the tamaracks which were just starting to leaf out, their new greenish gold needles alive in the spring sunshine. The sun felt hot on my shoulders, and a roll of sweat slid down from my armpit, getting lost in the curls across my belly.
At the base of the falls, there was a clear pool, and a few large flat rocks. I knew the water was cold, but a quick dip in the pool sounded really good after our hour long hike up here. Sweat had pooled in my armpits and in my crotch, and had matted the hair that splayed across my chest. A quick dunk in the water was in order.
We climbed down to the flat rocks, and I started stripping off my shorts and my hiking boots. I looked over to Dave and he was doing the same, filling my eyes with his muscular, hairy butt cheeks and a nice set of balls dangling between his legs.
"It'll be colder than cold, but I just can't resist," he said, as he sat down on the rock and slid all the way into the pool of water.
His yelp filled the woods, as his head came back up above the water, a torrent of cold pouring down his face into his beard and his bare chest. He grabbed onto my foot, and slid my bare ass into the pool along with him, my own yowl of pain and surprise also echoing off of the trees and the rocks of this paradise.
Dave grabbed me around the chest and pulled me back out of the water, holding me close to him, ice cold chest to ice cold chest.
"Isn't this something," he chuckled. "It's just great to feel alive."
We laughed, and splashed each other, and both took another plunge into the pool, soaking our heads again in the glacial chill of the pool. My cock shrunk to nothing and my balls wanted to crawl inside of me, but the water felt great against what had been my hot, sweaty skin, cooling me off after our hike.
Crawling out onto the rock, we found a patch of sunlight and basked in the strong sunlight and warmth of the noontime sun, my naked back and butt soaking up the sun warmth from the rocks, the sun starting to dry off my soaked beard and fur. Even my balls responded, coming out from hiding and flopping down above my hole, against the hard muscles of my inner thigh.
"Yes, indeed, good to feel alive today", I said.
"And, to be enjoy all this with someone just as crazy as me," Dave added, his deep voice resonating in his thick chest, a few feet away from me.
We lay there for a while, still partially in shock from our polar bear plunge and the pleasure of the sun on our sun-starved bodies. I soaked up the sounds of the water, and the distant call of a jay in the forest.
"I'm wondering," Dave began, a stammer in his voice. "I'm wondering if I could, ... could take care of you..."
"I mean, uh," Dave paused.
I looked over at him, his face red now, his breath a little short.
"You mean, like this?" I asked, my hand reaching over, cupping his heavy balls, in his now loose ball sack, which dangled between his meaty thighs, in the bright sunshine of the day. The feel of his large stones, in their loose, hairy sack, stirred up a few things with me, blood rushing to fill my own needy cock.
There was a nice nervous smell to his armpits, a bit of lust mixed with drying creek water, and the heat of the day. I wanted to stick my furry face into that thicket of tangled hair under his arms and take a good whiff of my soon to be lover's stink.
"Or, like this? I asked, as I moved over to kiss him, our moustache hairs snagging as I kissed his lips softly.
Dave kissed me back, a bit of surprise and happiness shining out of his blue eyes. I felt his cheek stubble on my face, rough and prickly.
"Or, like this? I asked again, my hand now gripping his shaft, feeling the blood rush hot under the thin skin and the edge of the mat of hair that covered the root of his manhood, sparkling red and blond and wet against his pale white skin. I jacked him a bit, his cock getting harder in my fist.
"Oh, all of that," he laughed, as my lips moved down to nuzzle the stubble on his neck, on my way to suck on the first fat nipple I could find in the thicket of fur that covered his chest, listening to his breath quicken with lust and need.
Soon, we were a tangle of fur and muscle, and sweaty skin, lips and cocks and ball sacks tightening with pent up lust, as we explored each other's hardening, salty flesh. Dave's lips slid down my tightening foreskin, exposing the purple head of my cock, shiny with precum and Dave's saliva.
I found his cock head and followed his lead, sliding my hungry lips up and down his shaft, until we are both moaning and panting with lust, and our imminent cumming. Dave pushed himself off my cock, his body tensing, his hard cock sliding faster and faster against my lips and tongue. He groaned, then shouted his lust, as the first spurt of his seed nearly filling my mouth, then dripping down my beard. A second spurt shot across my face, and a third sent a thick wad of his seed across one of my hard nipples, as Dave's moans resonated in in his heaving, sweaty chest.
His meaty hand found my cock, and he jacked me hard and fast, his thumb rubbing soft across the helmet head of my cock, until I lost control, and shot several spurts of juice across the fur of his chest, a thick drop hanging off the mat of curly hair.
My heart beats finally slowed, and I again could feel the warmth of the rock, and the pools of sweat in my armpits and groin, my balls loose now, falling in their sack against the warmth of my thigh, and Dave's warm cupping hand. My lust eased a bit, now that I'd cum, the first time with a lover, well, in too long of a time.
Dave slowly slid his hand the length of my cock, again, the last of my cum forming a wad along his thumb. He brought it to my lips, wiping it across my moustache and my tongue, his fingers softly caressing my bearded jaw and chin.
I find his now flaccid cock, lying wet and spent across the fur of his crotch, and bring another wad of cum, the seed of my lover, to his furry lips, and watch him taste his own seed.
Dave grins at me, the smile of a man who's just made love, relaxed now, bare naked on the flat rock underneath a waterfall, sharing life and his cock with a lover, a man who is enjoying life, and all that he can bring to it.
"Damn, you're good," Dave whispers, his grin splitting his beard, the red and blond hair on his face shiny in the hot noonday sun.
"Well, you started it," I replied. "I just had to help you get that project done."
We laughed, sharing the quiet of the place and the moment, and the satisfaction of two lovers finding each other, being able to just be ourselves, naked in so many ways.
Dave's fingers found their way across my chest, my armpits, through my beard, and then down my belly, making himself at home with me, getting to know me. He took his time, pushing my own curious hands away from him.
"My turn, buddy," he said. "I want to get to know you now. Just relax and enjoy. When I'm done, you can do the same with me."
"Besides, if I'm going to be fishing in these waters, I need to do some studying," he laughed.
"You're doing fine, got a good casting arm, and you're catching on to the right kind of flies to use to deal with the big fish in the river," I said, his fingers now hot again on my cock.
I hardened a bit at his touch, feeling my lust rising again, my nipples hardening in the slight breeze, and the thought of my lover again having his way with me. Dave slowly danced his way across me then, taking advantage of the "me time" he'd promised me. I didn't interfere, and just let him take me, again, to the edge, again and again, until, for the second time, I exploded. This time, it was deep inside his mouth, my thick bush pushed tight against his beard and his hard jaw, his fingers fondling my balls tight in their furry sack. His other hand gripped one of my aching nipples, sending electricity back and forth to my groin, my brain only able to know that I was cumming again, hard and deep, with my lover.
I gasped and sweated, my heart pounding again, Dave holding me tight against his hard, furry chest, the last of my seed oozing down my thigh.
"I think you've mastered the stream, Dave", I moaned. "You're quite the fisherman."
"I still need some coaching," Dave replied, "And I think there's another fish rising to the bite."
And, indeed there was. Dave's pole was hard again, throbbing with every beat of his heart, wet with the first of his precum and some of the seed he'd shot the first time.
I looked at him and grinned.
"Well, I better get fishing then."
We spent most of the afternoon there, taking another plunge into the water, drying off, and making love. We talked a bit about our lives, and our loves. I taught Dave some new casting techniques, and he showed me some tricks of his own.
We headed down the trail then, both of us needing to get back into the river, in time for the late afternoon bite. Soon, we were serious fishermen, in our T shirts and waders, and vests. This time, Dave caught a trout, and then another one, his shouts of glee rising high into the trees.
As the light faded, we returned to camp, setting our poles against a big pine. Dave pulled a bottle of good Scotch out of his pickup, and we sat on a log, with glasses of Scotch and a bit of the ice cold water we'd plunged into and fished this glorious day.
That night, we'd zip our sleeping bags together, and look up at the stars and the moon rising over the ridge, and listen to the coyotes in the distance. We would dance again the dance we began at the pool underneath the waterfall, becoming better fishermen in everything we did.
Oregon Bear 2012 Tying Flies
Tying Flies