It had gotten quite cold overnight, and when we woke in the morning there was little incentive to move out from under the warm duvet. We snuggled together, dozing contentedly in the knowledge that we were alone together. The tumescence would ebb and flow. But mostly ebbed with hard wood. Eventually, I pulled Chris up and over on top of me, and with a quick lube, had him sitting on my hard-on. He sank down all the way, and rested there, twitching his sphincter, and rolling his ass around, making sure that my cock was hitting every bit of his insides. He wiggled and scrunched down on me, making sure that I was buried as deep as possible, and then he started the slow rhythmic movement of his ass, which was as instinctive for him as breathing. Ecstasy for me. Bliss. Chris put his hands behind his head, and with eyes closed, rocked and rolled and rode me. He was in complete control of my cock and I was under his spell. When I was no longer able to withhold my orgasm, Chris was growling and slamming down on me so hard, with his demanding ass assaulting my steel hard dick, that the release of my white heat was exceptionally forceful. He was moaning, “I can feel you cumming, I can actually feel it,” while jacking himself to a bountiful release which hit my chest, my face, and seemed to splatter the entire wall above the bed. When we could breathe again, we looked at each other and both broke out in a long laugh. I cannot explain why laughter seemed to be so appropriate, and it certainly was. Maybe we were laughing with the simple fact of such immense enjoyment of what we were doing. It was so obvious that Chris was loving to bottom for me: He was a natural at it, that was certain. I was aware of this natural ability with feelings of intense attachment to him and a protective attitude developing rapidly. I knew that I wanted his ass, exclusively, and did not want anyone else to ever get near it! This was mine. We ate breakfast, and talked. Talked a lot about sex, male sex. Chris was the medical doctor, but it was me that was giving him some of the biology and the anatomy of male-to-male physical interaction. (Yes, your butt SHOULD feel sore!) He wanted to know everything I knew, and he reminded me of the million questions you get during the annual physical exam. I decided this might be the opportune moment to tell him about the encounter I had with Adam at the hotel, and he was highly titillated with my erotic description of it all. Just as I was about to make the suggestion that he and I both get together with Adam when I next heard from him, Chris asked, “How long ago was this?” Even though I read the concern in his cracking voice, I casually replied very honestly, “Just a couple of weeks ago.” The look on his face was one of abject horror, as his jaw went slack, his eyes went wide, and his question was incredulous, as he asked, “Are you serious?” I recognized his wild surprise and did not have to be a psychic to know that he was hurt. I changed my expression, and with a flip attitude, threw it off with a comment of “Now, what do you think, Chris?” The release of his tension was immediate. He smiled widely, and said, “Hey, don’t ever tease me like that again. I can’t imagine that you would do that now that you know me!” I flinched inwardly and said nothing more. We hiked that morning, and it felt good to be doing something together fully clothed and in the sunny daylight. It was all rather macho, and I liked being in the presence of such a masculine man. On the top of a ridge, overlooking the valley below, I was magnetically drawn to his maleness and just had to reach out and to hold and to hug him, and this caught him by surprise. He reacted immediately, with admonitions that we could not do this in public, pulling away and looking all about to see if there was anyone in view. When I finally had him convinced that there was no one who could likely see us, and no one who would care even if they did, and certainly there was no one that we knew…then he finally relaxed. Though initially so very reluctant, he quickly identified with my instructions to enjoy the physical intimacy in the great outdoors. Added to that al fresco feeling of freedom was the potential element of the danger of discovery. Yeah, he was finding outdoor action very hot as well: we both were getting absolutely turned on with the freedom of the public display of affection. With the deep kissing, there was also the frantic pawing and fondling of each other’s crotch, and both of us were hard. Taking control, I softly instructed Chris to go to his knees. I knew that he would protest, but also knew that he would do it. He did protest as I asked him to unzip me and to tongue my balls, but he did it. I was on a sexual high, knowing that we were exposed and someone could actually potentially see us. I was scanning the landscape in hopes of finding someone who would enjoy our exhibitionism. And yes, within moments my eyes landed on a figure down the hill from us, who had, indeed, seemed to have paused to watch us. Quietly, I told Chris that we were being watched, half expecting him to bolt and run. But with my quiet reassurance, he continued doing me, and with a quick glance, he also spotted the guy down the hill. I could not be certain that our voyeur was watching, but I was hoping that he was, and Chris was too. He even commented that he hoped the guy was enjoying the show, which surprised me, as he continued to service me hungrily. I waved at the voyeur. Yes, he waved back. I pulled my binoculars from my pack and fixed them upon the figure. I was a bit startled to find he was viewing us with his binoculars as well, a fact that I could not discern without my own binocs. I waved again, giving the guy a thumbs up. However, this time he gave no response, glued to his spyglasses. There was no doubt about it: Chris was enjoying being the exhibitionist, definitely showing off. When I suggested we switch places, he was eager to get his dick out and for me to go down on him. Chris had the binoculars trained on the guy, while I gave Chris some good head. Before long, however, the viewer apparently lost interest, and disappeared, and I was surprised Chris was as disappointed as I was. We tucked it all away and continued our hiking, uneventfully. These events were all new discoveries for Chris, and he was ever observant of all things about him, always inquisitive and forever interested in this lifestyle that he had never experienced but was so completely embracing. He knew the labels, but had never applied them to himself. Over lunch, he smiled across the table and said to me, “Well, I am a confirmed cocksucker; I now find that I enjoy being an exhibitionist; and I have discovered that I love to have your cock buried in my ass and just want more and more of it. Does this make me gay?” I cracked up, and replied, “Naw, not if you don’t start arranging flowers and going to fashion shows, you are not queer!” He laughed with me, “OK, it’s a deal. Whatever you and I do is simply bonding, and neither one of us will ever turn homo just because we kiss and suck and fuck.” After a hearty laugh session, we did just that. Chris continued to surprise and amaze me with his desire to bottom. I loved it. A big and macho muscular man, and begging to be fucked, all that made me hot and happy. On his back, with his legs up and over my shoulders, I was fucking him slowly, with pleasurable moans and his begging for more of me. (I wanted this to last forever, or for more than a few minutes, whichever came first.) Rocking together in perfect motion and a locked union, I leaned over towards his dick and was able to lick the head, an action that caused him to moan loudly and to buck wildly, making the fucking even hotter. I could actually get about an inch of the head in my mouth, sucking and licking on him as I slowly fucked his hot ass. He was writhing and moving that hot butt, nearing an incredible state of perfection in the art and the act of fucking. Chris blew uncontrollably, splattering my face, with my mouth so near his cock and with my cock filling his ass. His screams and moans were likely heard at the next cabin. “Wow,” he exclaimed when I pulled out, “I never knew that any fuck could be that wild!” I agreed, without divulging that I had a lot to compare him to, not wanting him to know how worldly I really was. He was absolutely “fucking good,” or “good fucking,” or both: Whatever, I was loving it. Later, we showered, separately, and I was shaving when Chris got out of the shower. Toweling off, he smiled at me and told me that he was finding it highly erotic to watch me shave. I responded that the act of shaving was even more erotic when mixed with physical touching, and he sighed, “I never cease to be amazed at what I learn from you.” He began following my instructions to fondle my cock and balls, gently touching me everywhere. I rubbed a liberal amount of shave cream lather over my balls, and handed him my razor, asking and telling him to shave my sac, putting my foot up on the counter to give him access. He looked up, with curiosity, and I talked him through it, telling him how sensual this was, and how sensitive and sensual it felt for me when they were smoothly shaved. I told him that I knew how much he would like to suck on my balls with a hairless sac. He listened to me, and he shaved me. And he was turned on mightily, throwing a raging hard-on with oozing pre-cum, just as I was doing. He played with my dick softly and gently and responded to all of my advice and instructions as I got blue-steel hard. He licked my balls and murmured his approval of the shaved ball sac. He was worshipping my cock, and told me how much he loved it and how much he wished that he had one as long as I was. I returned his compliments with my admiration for his thick dick, and suggested that we enhance the visual by shaving some of his pubic hair. Curious but unsure of what I meant, he agreed, and I cleared the hair around his cock, shaving about an inch all around, leaving just a patch of pubic hair above his genitals. He was all smiles, and admiring himself in the mirror, pleased that the visual gave the impression of more timber without having to look through the hairy forest. Still on my knees, he kissed me on the top of the head, and thanked me for showing him this. We were headed for a session, but I held him off (which is rare for me) and told him we needed to save it all for later in the evening. After a lazy afternoon nap, I needed to energize myself, and elected to go jogging, while Chris elected to try his hand at a gourmet meal preparation (i.e., thawing the steaks and tossing a salad). I headed out, and jogged along the trail leading back to the reception area, and before long, I was there. I went inside, and chatted with the elder statesman that was tending it. There was no one else there. He told me that all his cabins were full this time of the year; that wintertime retreats were very popular. Nosing around, I noticed a small workout area in the back that I had not noticed on our check-in: A few odd pieces of machinery, a treadmill, a bike, a few multi-use machines. He rambled on, telling me that although he closed up shop early, he left the door unlocked to this area all night since it seemed that some of the residents liked to come down for late-night workouts. There was a steam room and a sauna, both mini-sized, but both in working order and spotlessly clean, which he proudly displayed. Other than the obvious facilities, what caught my eye in the men’s locker room were some small messages on the wall above the porcelain urinals. I pretended to relieve myself, while reading the scribbles. I realized that I was getting a rise just reading them. The old guy did not know what was going on in the late night sauna if any of these notes were real. There were some hot and horny Suburban Daddies about! Currently right here in the cabins! As I jogged back to the cabin, I was torn in my thoughts: do I find a way to sneak down here without Chris knowing; or do I bring Chris and let him experience the sauna with hot horny men in it? Should I discuss this potential scene/action openly and frankly with Chris? I winced, thinking of my attempt to tell him about Adam, and how I could not bring myself to be totally truthful with him. Should I tell what I expect might happen or should I just bring him here and let happen what will happen? Maybe there is nothing ever happening here. What would he think of whatever I tell him? Damn it. OK, I would decide when the time came, but I was honestly flushed with the excitement of finding some fresh meat. Am I just a confirmed polygamous promiscuous cock hound? Maybe I should just stay in the cabin and fuck Chris’ brains out? Decisions, decisions! To be continued… Feedback to MisterEd53@hotmail.com
