A Connisseur's Feast

We awoke in the morning just as the sky was beginning to get light. We were both positively glowing with the warmth of each other's body heat. We kissed on the lips and then about each other's necks. The pleasurable feelings we both xperienced in our embrace had become addictive and we were now rubbing against each other and groping about with our hands in long sensual sweeps. Ultimately, we were on our sides facing each other. We would take turns stroking our throbbing cocks together in a single fist. Myself being somewhat shorter, I enjoyed administering little love bites about his lower neck and shoulders. The hot breath generated by my panting seemed to bounce off his already flushed body and hit me sweetly in the face. The hypnotically delicious buildup of tight heat and buzzing that was building in our groins was synchronized well enough that we reached our excess of tolerance at the same time and our cocks exploded in unison to discharge the ecstatic release of our male passion juices. The slippery syrups shot out on each other's chest and stomach to a symphony of our moaning and grunting affirmations.

We lay there for 10 minutes shielding out the chilly air. When my bedmate raised his head above a certain angle, he suddenly dropped it like a stone. "Ooohh boy! I think I chugged down one too many beers last night."

"Not to worry", I spoke so softly as if to whisper. "I saw the coffee maker in the kitchen. I will make some coffee and open that aspirin bottle I brought with me." I grudgingly jumped out of bed and dashed to the bathroom in my shivering nakedness. The shivers only became more pronounced as I peed into the toilet. I cleaned myself of the slippery jisms with toilet paper and tissues before washing my hands. I had the presence of mind to gather more tissues for my ailing friend in bed before I returned to the bedroom. I reached for a pair of jeans I had laid out the evening before and lifted my legs into the pant legs to pull them up. I didn't bother with underwear. I unfolded an extra blanket that was folded in a closet and wrapped it around my bare shoulders. Scurrying into the kitchen, I yawningly read the coffee maker instructions and followed them. Pulling the aspirin bottle out of my backpack, I impatiently tore off its cover and had about 6 aspirins spread out on the counter. I reached from a shelf two wrapped sterilized glasses and pulled them down to the counter. Freshly unwrapped, I poured a couple of ounces of tap water into each one. I quickly gulped down one of the aspirins grabbing the other glass and the rest of them.

Plodding back into the bedroom, the blanket still wrapped around me, I handed him aspirins and the water. I sat myself down on a chair next to the bed and informed him that the coffee would be ready shortly. "I should be all right in a few, Blonde. If I was able to get it on with you this morning the way we did, it shouldn't be long before I feel fine. . . . You're too good to me buddy. I like it that Anne seldom drinks, but she has no sympathy for me when I tie one on and regret it the next day."

Still clasping the blanket reminiscent of a character in a comic strip, I returned to the kitchen to pour out the fragrant hot fresh brew into two clean cups. Unaware as to how he enjoyed this hot reviver, I stashed little packets of creamer, sugar, and sweetener into my jean pocket. Sitting down by the bed again, he sipped the coffee hesitantly. "Oooo that helps! I'm beginning to feel better already. . . . I tell you what friend; you have been so nice to me that I want you to just stay relaxed right in that chair. In a couple, I'll get up and make you the best eggs and bacon breakfast you have ever enjoyed. I may be still a little nauseous to eat any myself." For the first time, I realized that I was famished. We had been so engrossed with each other that we had neglected to prepare any dinner. Munching on junky snack foods had been our only sustenance.

When my bedmate had finished his coffee and felt well enough, he pulled back the covers to arise. "Hoooooooeeeeeeeeee!", he yelped rubbing his crossed muscled arms up and down his bare torso in a slightly crouched pose. "Damn it's cold! Now I see why you're huddled in that blanket." Again, I was breathless and dumb struck. Ogling him in his shivering naked vulnerability, I still was aghast at his stunning manly charm. I was beginning to doubt our recent intimacies. I wondered if I had not been the victim of some drug induced erotic hallucinations. He tore at the blanket on the bed and whipped it around to wrap himself. He noisily marched off to the bathroom. I started to rise from my chair. He anticipated my solicitations. "Don't Bother!", he bellowed. "I will be taking piss breaks all day, I promise. You can get so close, I will even pee on you if you want." Again, with that silly laugh. He started loudly tinkling before he broke off.

The smell of the frying food was mouth watering. As he prepared the food, he would occasionally glance into the living room askew with multiple empty beer bottles. "Jeez Blonde, you'd think we threw a party for a fraternity. . . . Anne wouldn't be happy with this scene. Fuck her!" I tidied up some before we sat down to eat. We both shoveled food into our gaping mouths like starving gluttons. So much for nausea. We sat and contentedly digested our satisfying meal before scurrying about to prepare ourselves for the day. Both of us favoring specialized underwear for the occasion, we scrutinized each other in the altogether one last time before the end of the day.

The outings of the next two days were a feast for the eyes. Gorgeous mountain and valley scenes, the trail sporadically leading to a meandering flowing river source, sometimes even in rapids. Clearings would dissolve away to majestic forests and arboreal patches, populated by tall firs and spruces with an occasional mix of glittering aspens. Once every couple of hours we would encounter a party of hikers, often families. Bob, who at least had the sense to leave aside his cowboy boots in favor of sensible hiking shoes, would play the courtly gentleman. He would always tip his stetson hat and nod to any female regardless as to age. His respectful courtesies were disingenuous. When just out of earshot, for more than half of them, he would lewdly speculate what they would probably look like naked. He would seek my advice about the best techniques to successfully seduce them and what sexual congress they might enjoy. Over time, these impious detailed considerations extended to many of the men and boys.

"I'll bet that mama over there has a bush on her snatch so thick, a guy would be tickled silly before he could get his cock in her." Protesting a possible inaccuracy, I reminded him that she had her offspring in her company. "I thought she was supposed to be an unmarried auntie. Probably the kind of dyke that can tickle another girl's clit and make her cum from two feet away." Nobody could make merry better than this dude.

"Did you see the way that kid back there kept straightening his shorts? That is a sure sign that he is probably already hung bigger than a horse, even though he hasn't grown any dick weed yet." I contradicted him only to generate an outlandish response. "No, I'm serious. You remember what I told you last night. The kid in elementary school who was always squirming in his seat was hung like that. In the locker room after gym we would all gather around to stare just as he was taking off his underpants. The damn snake would flop out and practically reach the floor. You wouldn't want to let yourself be fucked up the ass by something like that. Might make for an interesting blowjob, though."

Nudging me on the shoulder, "do you remember what I told you about the pissed off volleyball coach who walked in on us one day?" I nodded in the affirmative. "Well I figure she must've caught a glimpse of what he had between his legs there because a couple of years later she managed to get herself transferred to the high school. When he became a freshman, rumors flew around that she would drop dirty little love notes to him through the slits in his locker." Laughing and giggling, I would tell him that he must of thought he could sell me every bridge in New York. I appreciated that he had a one-track mind that worked like mine.

As the sun began to sink in the western sky, Bob mapped out our route home. "You know, I usually kind of regret it near the end of the day on these camp outs when I have to think about pitching camp in our reserved space, but I look forward to us getting back to our cabin and getting 'nekkid' again." So did I.

My legs were starting to ache as we wearily reached the cabin, but I was happy to be in secure privacy with my trail mate once more. The excitement bulging between my legs proved it. He gave me another knowing wink and a smile as he unlocked the door. The door closing behind us was the signal to drop everything. I repeat, everything. Our grabbing and tearing motions were testament to our frantic haste to deprive each other of all our clothes. Birthday suited with fully excited sex organs, we wrapped each other in our arms and kissed in passionate embrace. Wet firm exploring tongues probed in and out of each other's mouths. Eventually he pushed me away, as if revived by the nurturance of each other's comforting warmth. "Hooooeeeee! . . . . Yeeeaaah" He ran about the cabin and no particular direction, his sumptuous animated meat flailing around.

"AaaaaAAAAAaaaaa!" He beat his chest like Tarzan. At one point he stopped to violently fling open the refrigerator door and grab two cold bottled brews. Tossing one to me, its slipperiness nearly evaded my catch again. "First one in the shower gets his cock blown!" He had a head start on me, jumping over the coffee table, gesticulating noises in the fashion of the popular favorite of a famous comedy trio. Joining him in the shower stall five seconds later, he slips behind me and wraps an arm hold around my neck: an inescapable head lock. "Now I've got you, my little cock sucking friend. Want a shower?" He thrusts me directly under the highly pressured water. "I bet I could never clean you of your hankering for fat cock." Unexpectedly, he releases me, letting loose another silly giggle. "God, I should hope not!" He clenched me about the neck again, unconvincingly thrusting raised knuckles into the top of my head: what in childhood we called 'noogies'.

Suddenly, he backed away and posed himself in a boxing stance. He briefly cupped his right hand raised up waving his fingers, signaling me to accept his exuberant challenge. I swiped a couple of jabs at him knowing that he had a decisive advantage over me in height and reach. Besides, we both had lost arousal and his luscious dick was swinging and jiggling about to his abbreviated Ali-like dance. The reader should know me well enough by now. This distraction rendered me incapable of any conceivable defense. "Come on, Blonde. . . Show me what you got, man. Don't look down there. Make a go for me" A failed right from me prompted an effective left from him, poking me directly in my left eye. Flinching back, I prepared to swipe again until I saw the expression of horrified concern on his face. He urgently cupped my head in his fervent hands. "Oh I am so sorry, man. Did I hurt you?" I became concerned myself with the look of genuine panic that painted his visage. He assisted me out of the shower stall and grabbed a towel, ignoring the still straining faucets. Starting to wipe about the head first, he continued his effusive apologies. "I am such an ass." He tried to humor me again. "Who the hell do I think I am hurting the person who loves my cock the most? I don't know what to say. It's just that it has been such fun to horse around and get naked with a guy who accepts me for wanting to have fun the way I do. I just get carried away. . . I guess that sounds pathetic, doesn't it? The poor kid who could never find the secret swimming hole to go skinny-dipping." Not wanting him to feel so bad, I commiserated that I was never able to find that swimming hole myself.

Guiding me into the bedroom, he plants a couple of wet kisses on my cheek and continues his tender applications with the towel. "Now, let's get you all dried off before you take a rest on the bed", he coos ever so gently. I couldn't resist being babied by this dripping wet naked incarnation of masculine gentleness.

The towel now down to the zone that people euphemistically refer to as 'privates', "yeah, . . . we want to get you all nice and clean. God forbid that I should do anything to damage any of your blonde good looks. Nothing should happen to you that would keep all those horny guys and gals from wanting to get their hands on your sweet little ass". The sweet tingles started near there and I worked up a noticeable swell. "There you go. . . Now you're getting back to the horny guy I know and love". He gave me a wink and a smile, and a quick firm hug. He tenderly assisted me on to the bed and asked me if I wanted to be covered with a blanket. I declined. He thoughtfully returned to the bathroom and brought me my beer, placing it on a bedside table. He also thought to grab a towel for himself. My last image of him before I succumbed to blissful sleep was his exiting into the living room bare assed, his knees slightly bent to spread his legs in order to ease the thorough rub down he was applying to his low hanging pouch of jewels with a thirstily absorbent towel.

When I awoke, bedroom lights were on as it was completely dark. He was stretched out next to me, still unclothed as was now our custom, reading a magazine. "Well," he smiled, "do you feel better now, 'Sleeping Beauty'?" Yawning and stretching, I nodded that I was. "I notice you are happy to see me, as usual." I had sprouted a 'dreaming man's' boner and I wiggled my hips to shake it about. He chuckled. "You know, I think it was the kiss you gave me after we came into the cabin that set me off so wild. You never cease to amaze me, Blonde. You're an outstanding kisser! If you could just get yourself to first base, you could seduce anyone with that kiss: guy or gal. From there, you could run all the way back to home plate." I smiled back at him. Nothing was said for at least two minutes. Finally he turned to me winking, "if you kiss me like that again, I promise I won't go wild again on your ass."

Once again we were in each other's naked embrace, my legs wrapped around him, my excited man parts crammed against his velvety furred abdomen. It was really a shared experience. He was generous to give me all the credit, but he was no lilting violet. A firm flexible wet tongue was there to greet mine, measure for measure. I broke away, and kissed, licked and nibbled about his thick neck. I treasured a few tender moments with my head nestled against his left shoulder. So inspired by his awesome physique again, I pleaded with him to let me give him a massage. He retrieved for me the massage oils from the chest of drawers where they had been placed the evening before. This time I willed the self-control to proceed with a full massage, back and front. He never ceased to murmur out low-pitched moans and words of approval. It was marvelous to be able to pressure long well defined muscles and sinews into molded relaxation.

From circular finger pressure at his brow, down to cracking his toes, he bathed in the relaxing sensuality. Much to my own glee, the intensity of the sensual experience apparently had an erotic side effect, because his glorious meat, the prize of my all my careful schemes, was now stretched out to its full mast, the elegant strawberry at its end glistening with the yearning juices generated deep within his rugged loins.

He was splayed about like this in the middle of the bed, legs wide open, trustingly vulnerable to my considered ministrations. There was no way on God's green earth that I was going to betray that trust. With a new determination, I committed myself to restrain my greed in the service I was about to render. I sucked and licked about the full length of this living cooking sausage to his unqualified delight and encouragement. At the peak of intensity in my enthusiastic oral function, I would apply my most ardent suctions, swirl my wet urgent tongue about with the greatest speed and pressure, and open my throat to take the length of his frantically pulsating shaft as far down as possible.

Coincidentally, I would use my other hand bestowed with busy probing and caressing fingers to explore the soft pouch of matching marbles, down the smooth flesh of his crotch to the super soft crevice which descends to the puckering star that guarded his back side hole and back again. With this strident combination in sensual overdrive I would carefully use all my faculties to monitor his responses. If I could feel the veins in his shaft stand out, also detecting a slight expansion in girth, a slight alteration in the taste of the man fluid oozing from his pee hole, the flesh about the pee hole itself becoming more tender, the pace of the pulsations and twitches increasing; I would be alerted to make changes in my applications.

I would then decrease the intensity of the suction, slow down the urgency of my tongue, firmly resist the thrusts of his hips, my upward strokes with my head pulling further back, sometimes even to remove the lovely sausage from my mouth altogether and return to licking, kissing, and nibbling about its drenched length. My other hand would cease its fondling altogether. My recipient's cerebral response to the decreasing intensity in my technique was not favorable at first.

"You little crazy son-of-a-bitch! . . . What the fuck are you doing? . . . Goddamn cock tease! . . . SUCK ME! ... EAT ME! ... Harder!"

When I would reverse the process, building an increased intensity once again, the tenor of his vocalizations would change altogether. "Ooooooooooo, yyeeeeesssss, that's sssooooo much better. . . . That's right, harder! ... Ahh! Ahh! . . . Rub my balls. . Please, swallow me.!" This roller coaster-like alternation transpired at least three times. When finally I brought him to sensory overload, his great man gristle nearly tore away my throat. "Heeeyyaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!" he screeched. Gushing ropes of warm slithering silky cum careened down my gullet tasting superbly of pent up man fester. "Ahh, uuughh," the flesh about his loins broke out in great shudders and spreading in either direction.

We lay on the bed for a few minutes saying nothing in labored breathing. The remnants of cum about my lips and mouth tasted stronger than I had recollected, but still retained a sweetness that was irresistible. Predictably, when he finally spoke up, it was with commanding volume.

"God that was in-fucking-credible! You really did yourself proud that time, Blonde. Through all the ages, I can't imagine any girl or woman has blown a guy like that. That was 'blue ribbon', as we say in these parts. Later on tonight Blonde, you're going to get a horse ride on my shoulders I know you will enjoy. Damn, it's the least I can do."

He had all the ingredients for the dinner he was preparing laid out on the kitchen counter. He cooked while I laid out the fireplace. We sat down and waffled down the nourishment into our chops in a manner not befitting polite society. The fire snapping and crackling, we started to converse on our second helping. Bob related to me that after I had fallen asleep, he was disappointed that there was nothing in the ice trays. He filled them then but considered traveling down the road, outside of the bounds of the forest to a nearby convenience store.

"You were out cold in that bedroom. I kept checking your eye by lifting your eyelid. It was bloodshot as hell, but I never could see that it was swelling." Again, he apologized effusively, but I insisted on waving off the incident as trivial and not to be considered again. Looking down at his plate and now only playing with the food with his fork, "We may have another physical problem, Blonde," he cautioned.

Myself looking puzzled, "I usually prepare this dish out in open camp, when we sleep in individual sleeping bags." It was a concoction consisting of primarily pinto beans and cheese. A smirk started to spread over his face. "If we are going to be sleeping together again tonight, it may not be very pleasant for both of us. At the very least, you may not want to follow me into the bathroom, tonight." He raised his ass about two feet off the sofa seat, his face beet red, and 'let one rip'.

"Wwhhhhooooooonnnnkk!" So amused by the loudness of his deliberate flatulence, he nearly dropped his food on the coffee table and rendered himself paralyzed with hysterics. I playfully clenched a fist and mockingly threatened to punch. Fortunately, I never detected any obnoxious aromatic accompaniment to the gaseous emission. Feigning deep offense, I inquired if he entertained Anne in such an outrageously anti-social manner. Still overwhelmed by mirth, he was unable to reply.

Trying to match him, I must have cast a vulgar appearance. In my nakedness I was crouching in the living room, flexing my bowels, attempting my own noisy expulsion. All I could muster, "phhiiip!" This only encouraged him to increase the pace of his convulsive laughter. I let the matter drop for I still had not finished what was on my plate. I did not want the evening to degenerate into a scene reminiscent of the Hollywood film, "Blazing Saddles".

Our stomachs full, we lounged about in our continuing state of undress for the rest of the evening. For the second night in a row, I would stumble on my words as I swooned in his presence, still awe struck by his grace and beauty. We laughed and joked, confiding in each other about past sexual exploits, both failures as well as successes. When we both became weary with fatigue, Bob crouched by the sofa, the sight of his tensed leg muscles making me weak in the knees. I took the hint and climbed on to the seat of the sofa behind him.

Climbing on to ample warm ivory smooth shoulders once more, "I promised you a good ride, buddy." I hardly had time to inhale before we were up and about, his jogging me all about the rooms and yelling out roundup calls. This time he did feel my persistent arousal and laughed out loud, pleading with me not to cum on the back of his head. He did not want to have to shampoo again that evening. Just as I thought our jaunt was concluding, he reached down at the front door to unlatch the lock. His next action astonished me. He kicked open the front door and ran with me into the chilly open night.

Fortunately, the general vicinity was not especially well lit and I judged the adjacent cabins to us to be vacant. The odds were probably high that no one caught sight of us in our nude high jinx. My naked carrier had enough presence of mind to not whoop and holler in the open air, calling attention to our unconventional lap around the cabin. Back inside, he jogged me right up to our bed and pulled back the covers for me to climb in. I decided I would take my chances sleeping with him again tonight, despite the contents of our meal. He insisted on clearing and turning out the lights. Once his chilled frame was in bed next to me, we hugged and kissed and crossed our limbs to warm each other snugly, like two young children on an adventurous outing.

On both days on the trail, Bob was true to his word and would always alert me when he needed to pee. Much to his amusement, I would already be at his side crouched at waist level to witness his unzipping before he reached in the flap to extract his magnetically handsome snaking hose. I would always be intent on witnessing every dribble he had to squirt and openly express my disappointment at his obligation to conceal it again after satisfactory relief. He would laugh and giggle. "You crazy devil, I can't walk around with my dick hanging out."

"Why not?" I retorted. "You are always trying to second-guess what the dicks of all the men and boys we meet on these hikes look like. Why can't you just have yours out in the open so they will know how you look? It spares them the energy of having to use their imaginations." He wouldn't reply. He would just grip me in a headlock and dish out more of his 'noogies'.

Two or three times each day, I would start feeling familiar when we were on our own. I would stare at his bulge and reach out to brazenly feel one of his ass cheeks. He would wink at me, "whoa there buddy, we can comfortably hike off trail a little way up here and have us a little fun". He always knew where these unfrequented paths were. We would trek up to a quarter of a mile and suddenly he would back up against a tree with his most seductive 'come hither' expression. I would instantly drop to my knees and undo his jeans to reacquaint myself with the treasure that he would allow me the privilege of lavishing my attentions.