My post-nap jerkoff session concluded, I decided that I would make myself presentable for the events of the evening. I still had no clue what Paul had in store for me -- well, there were some murky ideas floating around in the back of my mind if I’m perfectly honest -- but I wanted to be absolutely sure I was ready for it.

Grunting my way upright and out of bed, I stopped for a moment to appreciate the crackling layer of dried cum on my chest and the weighty slap of my cock against one thigh. Though nothing of my physicality had changed in the last few days, something in the set of my shoulders and the way I carried myself felt different. More manly, assured and powerful. The feeling of being desired and lusted after by someone to whom I was equally attracted created a whole new self-image. I was sexy, an object of fantasy, I just hadn’t noticed it before.

A flash of Paul’s face entered my mind as I fished around in my closet for a towel, his mischievous grin from the day before. Warm, tingling sensations radiated through my stomach. Looking back, I think those feelings were the beginnings of infatuation, perhaps even the stirrings of young love. I simply lacked the terms or ability to identify it, naively associating them with lust and anticipation.

Faded towel in hand, I snuck from my bedroom to the downstairs bathroom, the one used infrequently by the other members of my household. I turned the water on and looked in the mirror as I waited for it to heat up, studying my body with newfound appreciation. There were parts of me that I had always sort of ignored, figuring that the girls I associated with paid most of their attention to my face, hair, clothing and musculature.

The smoothness of my toned chest gave way to a distinct, rounded curve at the edge of my armpit, a tuft of dark brown hair peeking out between the squeeze of pectoral and bicep. The indents of my ribs were barely visible, trailing down like steps to the slightly furred slopes of my abdomen. The lines of my hips flared out, their natural ‘V’ shape seeming to act as a signpost pointing southwards.

I followed the directions obediently, planting both of my thumbs in the waistband of my underwear and slipping them down. The hair of my treasure trail thickened towards the base of my dick, becoming a carpet of almost-black pubes. My cock’s base became visible, its thick circumference turning me on in a strange, self-appointed way that I had never really felt before. Always facing outward was a poor way to experience attraction, I thought to myself.

An idea struck me, and I reached into the steamy shower stall and turned the water off. Still planted in front of the large mirror, I grabbed a disposable razor and some shaving cream. I sprayed a liberal blot of the cream into my hand, then began to massage it into my pubic hair with my fingertips. Doing this made my cock begin to stir, and I soon had a half-erection, enjoying the enveloping sensation of the shaving cream as it spread over the skin of my pelvis and balls.

Rinsing my hands in the sink, I then picked up my plastic razor and commenced shaving. Even this simple ritual had become eroticized in my mind, and I took satisfaction in each smooth, deliberate pass of the razorhead. With each line of shaven hair, more and more of my hardening length became exposed, appearing larger than usual with the absence of obscuring foliage. My member, standing proud and expectant, had never looked so appetizing. However, having already drained my balls multiple times thus far, I elected to hold off until I was with Paul again to do anything about it.

Working from my pelvic region to the fuzzy area around my cock’s base and eventually to my balls and taint, I luxuriated in the process. My ass was naturally hairless, so I left it alone. When it was all said and done, I stood in front of the mirror for a bit longer, running my hands over the delicious smooth skin there, letting my eyes linger wherever they happened to land. The concept of self-love was relatively foreign to me, and I enjoyed this first foray immensely.

Eventually I went on with my shower, soaping and sudsing every contour of my body, wanting to be perfectly clean and appetizing for my evening surprise. I paid special attention to my cock, of course, running my soapy hands over it but refraining from fully stroking. Then my hands wandered further, and the soap-lubed tips of my fingers found my taint and eventually my hole. Thinking that I had never even so much as touched it past the utilitarian purpose of cleaning sent a shock of realization through me. This must be what Paul meant when he said ‘something I had never tried before.’

Trepidation raised its head, but once again my penis had more confidence than the rest of me. The thought of pushing my big, hard cock into the tightness of Paul’s ass was both electrifying and mysterious. Then I thought, what if he wants to fuck me? I seriously considered the idea, eventually deciding that while I wouldn’t go into things with a ‘no’ already prepared on my lips, the idea of bottoming was outside of my current comfort zone. Wouldn’t it hurt like hell? Would I become Paul’s bitch? Would it make me less of a man? These thoughts felt idiotic and cliche, but they persisted. I suppose I hadn’t come as far as I might have thought, still wrestling with a veritable mountain of fear and misgivings about the perceptions of others.

Pushing these thoughts from my mind, I pressed lightly on the bud of my hole with one finger, the showerhead’s spray washing over my face, eyes closed. Even turned on as I was, I was unprepared for the sheer volume of sensation that arrived in response. A different kind of pleasure than the nerve-endings of my cock, but in conjunction with one hand draped along my shaft I shivered in pleasure. I wrapped that hand firmly around my pole, relishing the full-contact feel of being freshly shaven. Probing slightly with my finger, I felt my hole relax, sending pulses of pleasure that seemed to travel down my cock from inside the base.

Catching myself before I went too far, wanting to maintain that on-edge, feverish horniness for some unknown reason, I added more soap to my hands and finished cleaning myself up. The full-force stream from the showerhead would fall directly upon my cock periodically, causing it to bob and jolt with renewed vigor.

When I was done, I turned off the water and stepped out into the steamed confines of my bathroom, drying off on the plush, emerald green bath mat. I brushed my teeth and combed my hair, applying deodorant with extended tenderness. I felt like a pretty young woman, preparing for a big date, although the extent of my beauty routine was spending fifteen minutes trying to get my hair to look right. Eventually I gave up and returned to my room to pick an outfit.

My wardrobe hardly contained anything I would have described as ‘sexy’, but I labored over finding something that would show off my body in a favorable way. I started with a crisp pair of white briefs that hugged my bulge appetizingly and showed off both my lean stomach and muscled legs. Then came tall white tube socks with a red stripe at the top. I pictured myself being in only those socks and briefs with Paul, teasing him with the view while he salivated. The thought made me excited. I longed for him to see me in them.

Next, I decided on a pair of slim-cut navy-blue pants that I had always thought hugged my package and butt well. On top I went with a simple black t-shirt with a band logo on it, chosen specifically because it was a different cut from my usual attire, tighter around the chest and arms, making my muscles stand out appetizingly. I gave myself one last once-over, cracking a practice smile that looked too forced before huffing and stalking off to sit at my computer.

Distracting myself was extremely difficult, but eventually the reality of time set in and I acknowledged that I needed to do something before the evening arrived. I sat in my slightly less comfortable good-looking clothes for what felt like ages, eventually getting engrossed in a series of videos that blended together after a few. When I next looked at the clock in the corner of my monitor, an hour and a half had passed. Damn, I thought, that’s not nearly long enough.

Luckily, my impatience was rival to Paul’s own. I later learned that what followed was a complete improvisation on his part, brought on by the fact that his house wasn’t going to be empty soon enough.

‘Hey. Do you still have that tent we used last summer?’

The text flashed across my phone’s screen, and I raced to answer so quickly that I dropped it.

‘Yeah, just don’t know what happened to the rain fly. Why?’

I knew why. Paul’s reply was immediate.

‘Bring it, and the sleeping pads, and meet me by my place. I’ve got everything else we’ll need.’

My heart raced as I read his words, shakily typing out my answer. I hadn’t sent my measly ‘ok,’ yet when I got another message.

‘Some booze wouldn’t hurt, either. We’re biking.’

Hastily shoving my phone into the front pocket of my pants, I went to the basement of my house and searched around for the camping gear. Eventually finding what I was looking for, I got my larger backpack and began loading it up for the short ride to Paul’s house. I packed the four-person tent, two rolled-up inflatable pads, my portable radio, and a hastily added liter of whiskey that I’d been saving.

I was out the back door in a flash, dodging a hasty question from someone inside; I didn’t even realize who was asking. I ran, picked up my bike and took off, wobbling momentarily with my overstuffed bag. Within minutes I arrived at Paul’s place, the scenery of our neighborhood whipping past without so much as a second glance. He was waiting in the driveway, already straddling his bicycle with a similarly stuffed pack on his shoulders. He flashed me an easy smile as I approached, a small glint in his eye.

I lost my voice for a moment, a sophomoric nervousness washing over me as we made uninterrupted eye contact. I imagined most people might have the same reaction when Paul looked at them like that. More and more often I found myself unsure of how to behave around him. Our dynamic was shifting in all sorts of exciting ways, but I hadn’t gotten the hang of knowing when to be sexy and flirtatious and when to exist simply as his long-time friend. For his part, Paul didn’t seem to mind or even notice.

“I figured you might be here pretty quick,” he quipped, “so I got ready before I texted you.”

I laughed nervously.

“How long did I keep you waiting?”

He checked his phone, probably confirming the timestamp on my last text.

“Looks like...ten minutes on the dot! Good work, soldier.”

I saluted him, growing more comfortable in the casual space of our usual banter.

“So,” I ventured, “what’s the plan, sergeant? Behind enemy lines?”

“I know of a cool, secluded spot we can set up camp for the evening, we just have to trek there. Shouldn’t be too long.”

Picturing the clearing we’d used as our last location, and the big-dicked stranger who’d approached me after Paul left, I frowned slightly.

“How secluded are we talking, here?”

“Very. It doesn’t even have a path for the last while leading up to it. Trust me.”

I did. And so we left, Paul taking the lead, myself behind him, trying to avoid getting hit by a car while I stole glances at the shifting globes of his beautiful round ass. We biked for perhaps twenty-five minutes, eventually arriving at a trailhead near the local forest. Paul said that we’d walk the rest of the way, so we locked our bikes together at a large metal rack and began to hike.

Along a winding trail with which I was completely unfamiliar, we walked for another fifteen minutes, occasionally passing small landmarks that Paul recognized and pointed out. Then we arrived at a fork in the trail, leading off in either direction. Paul looked over his shoulder at me and nodded in the direction of his final destination, stepping straight off the path and into the untamed undergrowth.

“I found this spot earlier this summer, randomly trying to find somewhere to pee along the left-side trail at that fork back there,” he said, “I came back and found out you can get there faster if you just walk straight ahead from the fork. It shouldn’t be too far.”

He had been right about the seclusion. Not only had we not seen a single person since entering the trail, but we were trekking pretty far from the established pathway. In a couple of minutes I saw where he was bringing us, the site of an old treehouse. There were no walls attached, either never having been there in the first place or perhaps having fallen down long ago. There was only a large platform, ten feet off the ground and supported between three large oak trees. A sturdy-looking ladder led up to the platform from the ground, and Paul began climbing it immediately.

Stopping for a moment to admire his ass again as the position made the material of his sweatpants hug every contour, I climbed after him. Old though it might have been, the structure seemed very stable. When we reached the top, I realized how much bigger the whole thing was than I had originally expected. It was roughly fifteen feet by fifteen, and completely flat on all sides. Paul turned and looked at me, raising his eyebrows and shrugging up his arms as if to say eh? Isn’t it great?

“The tent is for some added privacy,” he remarked, “protection from the elements, all that.”

My tent would do neither of those things, having no rain cover, but I figured it would be warmer, more comfortable. We had scant sunlight shining down on us at our position, even though the sunset was still a ways off.

“Let’s get it set up then,” I said, somehow more confident now that I felt us to be completely alone. I smirked at him, and something entered Paul’s expression that gave me pause. He looked hungry.

Before I knew it he was stepping towards me, shrugging off his pack and coming very close. I could smell his deodorant mingled with sweat, a cleanly aroma that sent gooseflesh prickling down my arms and back. Paul leaned close, not making eye contact as he slipped his hands underneath the straps of my backpack, pushing them up and out until I complied and let my bag drop to the wooden platform below. Once I did, he made eye contact with me again, our faces only inches apart.

Then he kissed me, one hand slipping around the side of my waist while another came up between us and nestled itself on the side of my neck, underneath the line of my jaw. I melted at that touch, liquidly pressing into him, returning his kiss with redoubled energy. We stood there for a little while, entwined, connected. When he pulled away my bottom lip pressed out in an unintentional pout, which led him to laugh heartily.

“Tent time,” he giggled, “ooh, looks like you’re already started.”

His eyes dropped to my crotch, and I laughed as I realized how hard I was, the firm outline of my cock clear underneath the tight material of my pants.

“Tent time!” I yelled, laughter once again breaking the tension between us, and that I felt within myself.

He went over to my bag, once again becoming unnecessarily but alluringly close to my body. He opened it and began rummaging, and I took in the sight of his arm muscles working as he fished out the tent bag. Setting it up took us a matter of minutes, and before long we had opened it up and laid out the newly-inflated sleeping pads inside. From his overstuffed bag Paul produced both a thick sleeping bag, which he draped over the mats, and a thin, soft-looking blanket. Crawling inside, he lay down on one side and turned to look at me, tantalizingly waving a joint he must have brought to invite me in.

I obliged him, and we spent the next ten minutes or so chatting idly as we got ourselves comfortable and smoked some pot, occasionally reaching one extended arm outside the front flap to tap off the ashes. At his request I broke out the whiskey as well, and we each took a small pull, him coughing slightly at the powerful flavor. Within a short while, my head was slightly swimming with the familiar sensations of marijuana and liquor, a comforting warmth spreading across me as I lay back and enjoyed the breeze coming through the tent’s netted walls.

The sun began its slow descent towards night as we finished our smoke, each of us lying back with our crossed arms behind our heads. The ambient forest noises lulled me, and it took several moments to realize that Paul had turned, propping his head with one elbow as he looked at me. I turned my head to study him, caught in his eyes, excitement cutting through my mild inebriation like a hot knife through butter. My heart began to beat quickly again, and neither of us spoke for several seconds.

“I promised you something special,” he purred, his voice suddenly deep with poorly-contained lust. His free arm slid across the blanketed stretch between us, finger-walking over my forearm and running small circle patterns on my chest. This small, intimate gesture felt at first awkward, but I decided to lie back and enjoy the sensation of touch.

“You did,” I said to the open-air tent ceiling, “you most certainly did.”

“Well,” he sat up, smirking, “take off your clothes, then.”

Too excited to really enjoy the process, I sat up vigorously and pulled my tight shirt over my head. It messed up my hair, leaving some of it in my eyes, but I got up on my knees and began working at the button of my pants. Paul sat still, enjoying the show, and out of the corner of my eye I could see the impressive shape of his hard-on through the dark gray material of his sweatpants. It was curled down upon itself, and thus harder to make out.

I got my pants unbuttoned and undid the zipper, turning as I did to provide him with a better view. The light was getting lower, and a single beam of sunlight penetrated the shaded tent, resting across Paul’s shoulders. His smile lay in shadow. I decided to take this part more easily. I had chosen the underwear specially for how nicely they framed my bulge, hadn’t I? As I pulled the waist of my pants downwards, I could see Paul’s eyes widen as my entire cock came free from their tight embrace. Still encased in a layer of white cotton, the shape was pronounced and straining.

I sat back awkwardly to pull off the legs, and in moments I was exactly as I’d hoped to be, wearing only tight briefs and pulled-up socks, laying on my side, perched just as Paul had been moments before with one arm bent at the elbow. Boldly, I swept one hand down the length of my chest, running my fingers over my abs and eventually down to caress my package, gripping my shaft through the underwear.

Saying nothing, Paul reached up and removed his workout shirt, the sight of his ribs and chest coming into striking view, his nipples small and rounded. He kept his sweats on, crawling over to me and murmuring for me to lie down on my back. I did as he said, each arm at my sides, unsure of what he was up to.

Then he crawled on top of me, upside down, stretching over and placing his knees to either side of my upper arms and shoulders. I had a magnificent view of his tight ass, hugged by the taught material of his sweatpants, which disappointingly hid his bulge from where I lay. He kept his crotch a good distance from my face, though, and I felt his strong hands come to rest on my knees. Sixty-nining was nothing new to me in theory, but if this was what Paul had meant when he promised a special treat I was going to take everything he offered. My mouth watered at the idea of cumming down each other’s throats while he straddled my head with his thighs.

I pushed with my arms on the inside of his legs, and as Paul continued to massage and rub my thighs I snaked them around so I could use my hands freely, his deltoids sort of clamped between my biceps and chest. I was loving the feeling of mutual touch, entwined as I was with him. Once I had a comfortable position and one hand on each side of his ass, kneading and caressing, Paul began. His wandering hands slid up my tightened thighs and began to enclose my bulge. Squeezing, lifting and exploring, he quickly had my cock at one-hundred per cent. Four orgasms earlier could do nothing to lessen my arousal at that moment, feeling his ministrations but having my view blocked by the delectable roundness of his backside.

Paul was clearly impatient, and within moments he began tugging at the waistband of my briefs. I lifted up my butt to allow him to take them off, and he slung them down my legs immediately. Seconds passed as I felt the open air caress my straining manhood, still unable to see anything. I decided to close my eyes and enjoy the removal of one sense, hoping it might heighten the others.

I soon felt a moist warmth clouding against my cock, and I realized his mouth must have been very close by, releasing heavy, hot breath every second moment. Simply breathing on it made my erection pulse and shift, and I heard Paul chuckle quietly. The warm rasp of his fingertip ran from the underside of my shaft’s base to the tip, collecting a small droplet of precum. I heard him sucking on it, followed by a low, throaty groan.

Then his mouth was wrapped around me, enveloping half of my length in one go, causing me to moan. I began to stifle myself, but then realized that we were in the middle of nowhere. I moaned louder as he began to bob his head up and down, and I couldn’t help but open my eyes and peer up over his ass to see the muscles of his back and shoulders work as he went along. The quick pace soon gave way to a more protracted, measured approach, and my hips thrust forward involuntarily as Paul worshipped and devoured me. One of his hands was resting on my thigh while the other cradled my balls below, rolling them slightly as he worked.

I wanted desperately to cum into his waiting mouth, pumping my load into his throat, but our sixty-nine was just a six at this point, so I began to rub at his crotch with one hand, more to distract myself from the amazing sensations of his mouth. Paul pushed his mouth all the way down my shaft, the feeling sublime as I felt my entire cock wrapped in heated wetness, pushing into his throat with ease. Then he pulled up and off, making wet, slurping noises as he did, grabbing my shaft territorially once he had risen, as if someone else might come along and claim it if he didn’t.

He sat up, his ass growing closer to my face as he looked down at me over one shoulder, a coy smile only half-visible.

“You want a turn?”

I could only nod like an idiot I was so turned on. His choice of sweatpants was clearly intentional, I now realized, for how effectively they hugged his assets. Reaching down the length of his back, he grabbed the waistband and began to slowly lower his sweats, revealing the smooth, pale deliciousness of his rounded ass. At first, I thought he was wearing some kinky underwear with no back, but then I realized he had on a jock-strap! I’d only ever seen them in a sports context, and was absolutely floored at how sexy they made his ass look, especially from my angle below. Eventually he got the sweatpants down to his thighs, and his pink hole was perfectly in view. I wasn’t sure what I had expected, I’d seen people’s assholes in porn before, but Paul’s was so hot, puckered and perfectly clean.

“Do you want to taste it?” He asked, and I realized he hadn’t meant his cock, which was straining the jock-straps cup, his plump balls resting lightly on my chest.

It hadn’t occurred to me at all to lick it, but right then and there I couldn’t possibly resist. I grabbed his hips and pulled, and as Paul scooted his ass back to my waiting face, his thighs and knees came to rest soundly against either side of my head. The weight of his body on my chest, lightly suspended by his bent legs, was exquisite, I felt like my whole head was wrapped in warmth, and as he lowered his ass even closer the sensation only improved.

Unsure what to do, I began by kissing either one of his cheeks, loving the supple feeling of them as my lips pressed into them. The smell coming from Paul was positively intoxicating, a mixture of his body wash, sweat, the musk of his cock and balls, with which I was becoming increasingly familiar and mildly addicted to. There was another scent, as well. It was earthy, but not at all unpleasant, and I assumed it was what a very clean and ready hole must smell like.

I elected to just jump in and try things, and I poked out my tongue and gave his ass a long, sensuous lick, beginning in his taint right where the jock’s cup ended and going along until I ended with my tongue on his bud.

Paul groaned and shivered, clearly enjoying himself, so I continued with renewed confidence.

I began to lick his hole all around, my mouth watering and quickly getting things wettened. Every time my tongue would pass over his hole, pressed flat against it, I would hear a moan of appreciation from Paul, whose head was facing forward. I kissed it, spit on it, poked my tongue slightly inside. As I tried that last one, I felt his cock shift and pulse against the skin of my chest through his jock. He leaned back, turning once again over one shoulder to look at me, and the expression of salaciousness on his face was priceless. I loved that I was turning him on so much, and when Paul reached down and grabbed the back of my head, his arm flexing as he ground my face and mouth into his ass, I growled loudly.

“Yeah?” He said, teasing me, “you like eating this ass? You’re so good at this, dude, don’t stop.”

I growled again in affirmation, bringing my left hand over his leg and reaching into his crotch. After some blind groping, during which I never stopped working on his hole with my tongue, I found what I was looking for. Paul’s cock was rock-hard, straining against the jock. I gripped it, and he began to grind on me again, this time with his cock and balls pressing and mashing into my chin, neck and chest. I released him and continued licking, loving how crazy he was going.

Gasping as I dug my face in, Paul seemed to remember my cock again, leaning forward to engulf my head in his waiting mouth. We continued that way for a while longer, him sucking me while I ate his perfect ass, something I was learning to love very quickly.

Then he stopped, once again affirming his protective grip on my member when he released it from his spit-covered lips.

“Ungh,” he groaned as I prodded his hole with my tongue again, causing him to bounce a little on my face. “Okay, I want you to fuck me now, Dean.”

He said it like it was nothing! This must have been what he was talking about, although if I was honest with myself I knew I would have settled for anything at all, so long as it was Paul offering it to me.

He raised his ass up, the muscles flexing as he did. A line of spit spread from my tongue to his puckered hole, the perfect vision for me waiting beneath him. As Paul got off me, I raised myself up on my elbows to look at him. He pulled the sweatpants all the way off and lay down on his stomach next to me, his knees bent, feet in the air, ass pressed out and his back arched. I had to sit up so I could take a better look, and his ass was so inviting I crawled over and got behind him, ready to go.

“Hold up,” he said, looking back at me, “there’s a couple of things we should do first, so I’m ready.”

“Like what?”

“Well, spit is nice and all, but I have some lube in my bag, that will help a lot. I’ve only done this a couple of times, and never with a dick your size, so we’ll have to go slow.”

In my experiences with him, I had come to believe that maybe Paul was a bit of a pro when it came to gay sex, so it was surprising to hear he wasn’t all that experienced. I nodded and went to his backpack, rummaging around until I found a small blue bottle.

“Use that and your fingers, first.”

I liked receiving instructions, and was soon kneeling behind his still-waiting ass, my own cock tantalizingly close to its future destination. Paul sighed and pushed his ass out even further, accentuating its firm roundness, his hole peeking out at me. I opened the cap and spread some lube on my first two fingers, moving them around to get an even coating.

Reaching down, I pressed one finger lightly on his rosebud, enjoying the sight of him flinching a little at the coldness of the lubricant. Within seconds the tip of my finger was inside him, moving around slightly, going very slow. Paul squirmed, humming appreciatively into the blanket below him, which he gripped with both hands, causing his shoulders and back to flex.

“Okay?” I asked, worried that he was in pain.

“Oh my god, very okay,” he replied.

I pressed on, and soon my pointer finger was buried in him. The feeling of warmth wrapped around that one digit was a promise to my cock, and I just hoped I wouldn’t rush things in my anticipation. He was incredibly tight. I worked my finger slowly, eventually speeding up slightly and bringing it out to its full length before pushing it back in. Paul told me to add another, and with some patience I managed to get both in to the first knuckle. I loved the sight of my fingers disappearing into his tight, waiting ass, and Paul was clearly enjoying himself immensely. I began to work my fingers, flexing them at the knuckle. The tip of my middle finger brushed a spot as I curled it inwards, and Paul groaned throatily. I played there for a few moments longer, and he eventually turned his head over one shoulder and told me roughly to fuck him already.

I needed no further instructions. I grabbed the lube and squeezed out a good amount into the palm of one hand, working it all over my cock. Then I pulled up behind him, once more entranced with the sight of his ass in that jock-strap, and placed the head of my pole at the entrance to his hole.

“Do it,” he breathed, “put it in.”

I planted one hand on his lower back, holding him down firmly as I pressed my cock forward. At first I was convinced that it wouldn’t fit. A whole cock-head was different than two fingers, and I knew how tight his ass was at this point. After a few seconds of pushing lightly, worried that I might hurt him, Paul told me to push harder, so I did. I was met with the spectacular sight of my cock slowly being engulfed by his hole, the head soon completely buried inside of him. We groaned in unison, Paul’s hands flexing their grips on the blanket before relaxing as I got further inside.

The feeling was almost indescribable. The hot, lubed press of his tight hole encompassing just the first inch or two of me was enough to make my balls pull up close to my body. I could have cum right there with too much movement, but I waited a few seconds and was able to resume plunging into his wet boy-pussy, centimeter by delicious centimeter. With each slow push, Paul would hum deep in his chest, clearly as focused on his breathing as I was on not cumming immediately. Before long I was halfway in, resting, still, breathing heavily, propped up by my arms, which were now pinioned on either side of Paul’s lower torso.

I lowered my chest towards his back in one smooth movement, pushing deeper into him as our skin met, my weight settling on top of him just as my cock finally bottomed out inside of him. The feeling of being balls deep inside Paul, pressing still deeper, sent tremors through me that he felt, my buried cock transmitting them deep into his core.

“Ohhh my god,” he breathed, his voice deep, “you’re so deep. I’ve never felt this full before.”

My face was pressed into the space between his shoulder and neck, my lips parted in bliss. I leaned forward and kissed his neck.

“This feels so good I could cum any second,” I half-laughed, “don’t move.”

“Mmmmm, I won’t, just stay inside.”

I stayed there, resting on his back for maybe a minute, his ass like a perfectly-fit glove around me, hot and occasionally pulsing as one of my small movements caused Paul’s cock to shift underneath us.

When I felt ready, I lifted myself from him and planted my hands back at his sides, beginning to pull back. When my shaft was mostly out, I pressed forward again, causing Paul to shift forward, moaning as my tip once again prodded what must have been his prostate. Once I bottomed out like this for the second time, I began to pick up a slow, steady rhythm.

Our groans and sighs of pleasure filled the air of the tent, each inward thrust like heaven on my cock, Paul’s ass squeezing me, trying to milk my cock even as I resisted exactly that eventuality. I began to feel my orgasm building, closing in, pulling my balls towards my body, tingling in the tips of my toes and causing my skin to flush. Paul had begun to thrust his ass back to meet me, the sounds coming from him lapsing into guttural growls as I pounded him.

“I’m going to cum,” I grunted, wondering what he would say.

“Fucking do it, bro,” he breathed, pushing back to meet my thrust forward, “fill my ass with your load.”

That was all I needed to hear. From my straddling position behind and on top of him, I grabbed his hips with both hands and began to really slam my cock into him, burying it fully to the hilt with each thrust, my balls slapping against his taint. Paul exhaled forcefully on the first major collision, and would then grunt in an out-of-breath way with each successive impact.

Strangely, the change from a steady, slow fuck in which I could really feel every little movement to a faster, aggressive style brought me a bit back from the brink of orgasm, and I lasted another thirty seconds of intense pounding before my climax overtook me.

My hands tightened on Paul’s hips as I took one long, slow lunge into him, ending with my cock completely bottomed out in his tight, hungry hole. I pressed everything I had into him, my toes curling behind me as the most intense orgasm of my life erupted through me and into Paul. My full weight settled on him at the hips as the first elongated wave crashed over me, culminating in a continuous stream of cum that lasted what must have been two whole seconds.

Moaning, Paul’s perfect ass milked me repeatedly as I humped forward helplessly in small bursts, what felt like my entire being emptying through the ecstasy of my cock in thick spurts. It stretched onwards as I strained to push deeper, and when I pulled back a bit my cream seeped out of Paul’s ass at the edges, smearing slightly on my pelvis.

When I was eventually spent, I stayed on top of him for a little while, breathing deeply, one hand absently running up from the small of his back to his shoulders, my fingers eventually twining in some of the hair on the back of his head.

We lay, breathing in sync like that for another minute before Paul shrugged underneath me, signalling for me to move over. Gingerly, I pulled my still-engorged cock from the depths of his hole and marvelled at the beautiful sight of his cum-covered ass, his opening spread from my stretching it, quickly tightening again and closing up.

I rolled over, lying back, staring up at the orange-purple streak of the sunset sky above us. I thought I might drift off for a moment, but then it occurred to me that Paul still hadn’t cum! I sat up lightning quick, looking over at him. He had rolled onto his side again, and was looking at me with a half-glazed expression of abject desire. His throbbing bulge was splotched with soaked-through precum, off to one side instead of the classic jock-strap under-tuck. After the amazing sensations he’d just shared with me, I would have done anything Paul asked in that moment. I told him so.

He smirked at me, suddenly intrigued.

“Anything?”

“Well,” I said, “I’m not sure I could take that in my ass right away,” I nodded to indicate his cock. “You’re at least an inch bigger than me, and I’ve never had anything up there before.”

Paul looked down, maybe abashed that I would comment on his big member so brazenly. He was cute, being all humble after having just taken my cock like such a champ. Then he smiled, looking back up at me.

“How about,” he started, shuffling and closing the distance between us, “you lay down like I was before, and I’ll use your ass to get off. I won’t put it in, just...everything else.” He chuckled.

Smiling back at him without a word, I simply turned over and lay down on my stomach, hunching my shoulders over my folded arms and closing my eyes. Just like Paul had done, I arched my back and poked out my ass, knowing that it would make a very appetizing view. I heard Paul exhale, then flip over and rustle around for a moment. The commotion ended with the plastic snap of the lube bottle opening, and I heard him dispense some into his hand. Smiling into the side of my arm, I waited patiently for him to position himself behind me.

Seconds later I felt his hands on my ass-cheeks, planted at first along the sides, his thumbs digging in slightly towards the center. There was lube on his fingers, and within moments he was using one finger to spread some of the warmed-up stuff on my exposed hole. Unlike in the shower at home, this stimulation came from someone else, and I felt my well-worked cock stir a little beneath me.

“Is this okay?” He asked, pressing with some firmness on my entrance.

I groaned with my mouth closed, then wiggled my hips and nodded my head, past the point of words with this newfound and exciting feeling of submission. He pressed forward, and the tip of Paul’s finger entered me with a sensation of smooth parting, and warmth blossomed in an unfamiliar way towards my midsection.

I suddenly felt the heavy head of Paul’s cock come to rest on my balls from below, a small wetness spreading at the point of contact. He must have been wild with arousal at that point, because he gyrated his hips, pressing the underside of his head against whatever part of me he could find. As he did, his finger sank deeper into the willing depths of my ass, the first time I’d ever been penetrated. I had expected pain, but with my arousal, having just cum, and the liberal use of lube his finger seemed to slip right in without issue.

I just lay there and breathed, content to let him play with me however he liked, enjoying the sounds of his heightened breathing and the feeling of his cock rubbing against me. Paul’s finger slowly withdrew, leaving behind an emptiness that surprised me, and I soon felt his tip sliding up along my taint and towards its destination. Momentarily nervous, I almost tensed, but then I remembered what Paul had said, and I renewed the arch of my back, noting his intake of breath as I did.

His cockhead came to rest against the outside of my hole, a wet warmth, solid against me. I imagined Paul was looking down at the view with eyes clouded by lust, and he soon began to rub his cock around my hole with small, circular movements. I could feel that he was gripping it from the base and rubbing the tip around like a paintbrush, and a slick trail of his precum seemed to seep out continuously as he did.

“Push it in, just a little bit,” I said, “I’ll tell you if it hurts.”

Mmmmm, intoned Paul, and I felt him shift positions slightly above me.

There was pressure, and the head of his cock was soon pressed solidly against my hole, making it stretch slightly inwards, resisting him. Paul breathed out again, husky and excited, and I could tell he was trying very hard not to ram his big meat into me at that moment. The thought turned me on, and I could feel my half-hard cock begin to reinflate.

Paul pulled back, and the wet sounds of him masturbating with the tip of his member still slightly touching my virgin ass made me swell with anticipation at the idea of feeling his cum all over me.

“Push it in a little again when you cum,” I said, not knowing why but knowing that I meant it sincerely.

Paul just growled, and I heard his strokes get faster in tandem with his ragged breath.

The pressure of his cock at my hole returned, and after a moment of resting there while he stroked his shaft, Paul pushed forward into the lubed press of my untouched ass, finally passing that first band of muscle and entering me to the end of his tip. I gasped, and as soon as I registered that he had gotten all of his head in I began to feel his orgasm taking hold. His cockhead pulsed, every twitch superbly tangible in my sensitive hole, and then he was cumming. Not being very far in, Paul’s huge load spurted into me and began to spill all over my ass, filling my crack and splashing across my balls. He continued to moan as he painted my virgin asshole with his seed, at one point pressing the head in again and depositing his spunk inside as it continued to shoot out. Eventually the ropes subsided, and he rested his spent cock between my cheeks like a hot dog between two buns. It slapped down wetly into the thick pool of his jism welling up in my hole, every sensation sending pangs of pleasure up through my core.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” he gasped, collapsing alongside me on the blanket, breathing hard.

I just groaned like an animal, turning onto my side and feeling an impressive amount of cum run down to the blanket below.

“Come here,” he said, motioning for me to snuggle up next to him.

I crawled forward, eventually resting my head on the side of his chest while he played with my hair. I draped one arm across his torso and wriggled until I was warmly pressed against him, breathing the scent of his skin and sweat.

We stayed there until nightfall, breathing deep, dozing off periodically until the chill of evening caused us to pack up and return home. The summer was not yet over, and while we hadn’t spoken on the subject, I knew that Paul and I had forged something between us. I only hoped the feelings I held for him, some of which lapsed into the uncertain realm of the romantic, would be met in kind.

I would find out, in time.