A Connoisseur's Feast

I savored the sweet and spicy cum that still lingered in my mouth and I lapped up the drops that had spilled on to the shrinking gun from which they had been unleashed. . Soon, his flaccid glistening dick lay comparatively languid astride his right hip, still posing a striking presence. He moved his head back on the soft bed and raised his face toward the headboard basking in sensual relaxation. "Hhmmmm, that was incredible!"

"I am not finished with you yet." I spoke with an element of control. I sauntered into the adjoining bathroom and gathered up tissues. After cleaning him about his genitals and legs, I told him not to move from where he lay. I told him that I would retrieve just enough supplies from the car for our next session. On the way out, I noticed that in the haste to commence our escapades in eros, we had left both the front door of the cabin and the bedroom door open. We were lucky that no one had entered and caught us in our passion play.

Closing the bedroom door behind me, I heard him almost drunkenly slur, "I don't fucking believe this is happening."

I smiled as I thought, "He hasn't seen anything yet. I am just warming up." Opening the swing door at the back of the SUV, I realized I would have to make two trips. We had bought several six packs of bottled beer and the first order of business was to get them out of the vehicle and into the fridge in the cabin before they go "skunk". Finally organized to my satisfaction, I opened the door to the ridiculous scene of my intimate friend with his bare midriff and legs hanging over the end of the bed, his jeans and boxers pulled down to his cowboy boots, as if he were lounging on some bizarre reclining Roman toilet. I forced back a snicker as I handed him one of two not quite cold beers.

"Hey Blonde, good man. I almost forgot about these brewskies. I thought I heard you rattling some bottles around. What's next on your menu?"

I gazed at him for a half a minute taking a swig before announcing, "Let's get these boots off." My new friend was pedestaled with two large feet and I was going to need to be seated to wrench his boots off. I reached for one of the rustic limb crafted chairs in the room and seated myself directly across from him. His right foot in my lap first, I gave a great tug, but the cumbersome footwear did not budge.

"Whoa there, buddy. You don't know much about boots, do you easterner? Pull back on the heel lifting up, first. Then slip the boot off." Following instructions, the boots slipped off as effortlessly as gloves. He wore no socks, accounting for the deep calluses even on his high arches.

Arising from the chair, I stepped to the side of the bed to pull away the snaps on his plaid shirt. Helping him out of his sleeves, I had my outstanding 6' 2" trophy of masculine form naked at last. My still unsatisfied tensions building again, I could hardly believe my good fortune. I was suspicious of my own senses. I wondered if I was not becoming captive to some false apparition from hell, come to tease me and punish me for my many past lecherous corruptions. Gathering my wits, I ordered him to turn over on his stomach and splay himself spread-eagled on the middle of the bed. Enjoying one last chug from his beer bottle, he obeyed my command as I slipped off my sandals and kneeled on the side of the bed next to him. My fingers struggle at the keyboard as I recollect this erotically visual moment. That I could have such a statuesque corpus so trustingly at my disposal exceeded all my wildest fantasies of sexual rendezvous. I had had the presence of mind to bring my fragrant body oils with me in my satchel and I brought them with me into the bedroom. I splattered out a couple of shots of fresh wintergreen onto the palms of my hands, and rubbing them between my palms I started to work on his thick neck.

Kneading out the stiff knots, he murmured through his increasing comfort, "that's nice, Blonde." Low soft moans accompanied the pressure of the palms of my hands. To give this model of Michelangelo come to life a deep penetrating massage seemed to me at least as pleasurable as receiving one. Warm supple well-exercised flesh and bone would greet my palms and fingers with every touch. I was so overcome with the sensuality of the applications that I could not resist bending over from time to time to kiss, lick, and nibble at my subject, who only seemed to enjoy the experience even more. Massive broad shoulders swept down to a lean and awesome back which itself sharply angled to strong narrow hips. Down from the small of his back, pillows exploded to shape small but sharply rounded ass cheeks.

The way these bubbling buns would unendingly rapidly clench and relax was a performance worthwhile in its own right. Part way down superbly conditioned thighs; dark brawny mats of hair swathed a graze nearly down to his ankles. From time to time, I would dribble little puddles from my beer bottle on his person. The combination of the odors from my oils and the crisp brew created a surprisingly refreshing and sociable fragrance. I found as I would knead and press against firm thighs, my hands would press back up to his billowing ass. Of all his dynamic musculature, his ass was the most delectably flexible. I could not help myself from burying my face to kiss and nibble about the available folds of flesh there. I played with those supple cheeks, opening them just at the point where an old saying declares that daylight seldom shines. Revealing his puckering posterior opening, it was as if a sweet rosebud was winking at me. My face level with all these prizes, I thrust out my tongue tip to flick about, probe, and taste this region.

I was encouraged by his strident vocal affirmations. "Lick! . . Lick! . . . Don't stop! . .Oooooooooooo . . . . Eat me, rim me, you son of a bitch." I was reminded that he was familiar with man to man pleasures via the Internet. "Ooooohhhhh. . . . .oooooahhhhhooooo. . . . Yes, you know you want that hole. . . Aaaahhh. . . . That hole is yours. Give me your licking tongue. . . Stick your tongue up my hole, hard." I decided to allow my slathering tongue to explore new territory. I licked with firm pressured sweeps down his exposed crotch to the underside of the soft sac of jewels that was supported by the mattress. I could see that the all-important external organ of his anatomy had stiffened once again to full hardness. Always a glutton for pleasurable servicing, I grasped it as he intuitively raised his hips for me to pull it down into my out thrust lips and tongue. In an instant, he had me on my back, sitting on my upper chest and shoulders, his meaty pillar tensed down into my open mouth with his fingers. "If you want my cock in your mouth, then suck on it hard. . . . . Don't fool around, eat me!" he yelled.

If this was what it was like to be pinned by a nude Olympian wrestler of ancient times, then I was born centuries too late. I sucked and licked about as best I could, thrilling to much of his 200 or so lbs. resting on me via his warm seat and upper thighs. Realizing I was powerless to diversify my motions, he raised himself horizontally above me with his legs spread as if in a stance to start pushups. His cock never completely leaving my slurping mouth, he started pumping his hips in rhythm to a serious face fuck. Instantly, I adjusted my throat muscles for the impending invasion. I had to adjust my head and neck to allow myself the best angle to relish every stroke of his heavenly piston of flesh. With each thrust, his meat would throb, twitch, and taste in a slightly different manner. On occasion, he would pause as his full length was thrust to the hilt in my mouth, allowing me to sniff his tickling man scented fulsome tuft. "There! Take it. . . .aaahhhh, swallow me you obsessed cock freak. . . . . Yyyyeeeeesssssss, don't let up until you milk me of my joy juice. . . . Hoooooeeeeeee, that feels ssoooooooo gooooddddd. . . . . Work your tongue, like that! . . . . Ughhh, ahhh. . . . ahh. . . . ahhh." By now I was administering strokes within strokes. His stroke in and out was being met by two strokes of my quick right hand along as much of the shaft as I could grasp, as he continued to thrust in and out of my slobbering mouth. He was lost in the ecstasy of his mounting pleasures.

"Oooooohhhhh, it won't be long now. . . . Get ready, I am going to shoot a terrrrriffic loooooad. . . Now I cum, ughhh." His overly sensitized cock jerked a throb that nearly exploded itself, unleashing little jets of heated man climax down my throat and the back of my mouth. I savored every squirt of his fresh passion and would not release his sex until it had lost its toughness and the weight of his lower torso relaxed on my face. . Turning over and lying on the bed next to me as we both strained to catch our breath, he spoke first. "Blonde, if I had any idea about your talents, we would have gotten together weeks, ago."

I queried hesitantly, "Do I give a better blowjob than Anne?"

He turned his head to look me in the face with an incredulous expression, shaking his head as to disapprove of asking a question whereby the answer should be obvious, "Anne in her wildest dreams could never give me a blowjob as fuckingly superb as an experienced cocksucker like you. That could be the best sex I have ever known, and let me tell you my friend; I have known some awesome sex in my day." Giving me a playful nudge in the shoulder, "Damn Blonde, you must have been trained by a aster." His eyes suddenly dart around the room. Lifting his majestic torso he announces, "in one end and out the other. Nature calls!" His every move seems athletic to me as he brusquely climbed off the bed and with long strides sauntered off to the bathroom.

I am at his side and intently focused on his bodily relief as the stream of piss first ejects from the pee hole of his coiling dick and into the toilet bowl. "Well aren't you the funny guy. I believe you enjoy my dick in motion as much as I enjoy having you service it."

I thought to myself, "Probably more so."

Through the continuing piddling noise, he gave me a once over noticing my still tented shorts. "I think by now, we have been through all the formalities. Why don't you take off all your clothes and stay awhile since you are still so happy to see me. I am going to take a shower soon and we ought to see what we can do about that lump between your legs." I was naked with my clothes kicked to one side as he was shaking the last drops from the end of his whip like hose and reaching over to flush. Turning on the faucets at the sink, his eyebrows narrowed into a furrowed brow. "Damn, look at you! No wonder they call you Blonde. I tell you what, I have an idea. You must be thirsty again. How about stepping into the kitchen and pulling out a couple of cold ones and I will tell you when I get back." I backed out of the bathroom not really cognizant of my direction. My eyes were glued to the pendulous swings and wiggles of his dazzling dangler that moved about so sweetly, prompted by studious hygienic hand care.

Once out, I bounded out to the kitchen, boner bouncing. I reached in the fridge and one of the bottles, now thick with condensation, nearly eluded my grasp. The thrill and excitement of the moment was nearly lost in an explosion of froth and a hundred shards of glass.

"Easy Blonde, you could still blow the rest of this adventure. Caution must still reign supreme", I reasoned with omnipresent introspection.

Carefully returning to the bathroom, I handed him a now chillier bottle. "Thanks my man. The best man is the one who looks after the cold brew", he drawled out with his infectious grin. In the meantime, he had fetched from the bedroom one of the bedside tables and moved it by the spacious shower stall. This would serve as the stand for our beers, facilitating our ability to take chugs at our leisure in our next round of physical play. Stepping in the stall ahead of me, he turned to me, "When you get back east Blonde, I know what you ought to do. You should find yourself a ladies dormitory and streak it. Shit, so long as you stiff out a boner like the one you've got now and with all that pretty light body hair, you're bound to get at least a couple of the girls to drop what they're doing and run after you."

I laughed heartily at this generous but implausibly comical compliment. Retorting, "I think you would do better to attract many more females to run after you're naked butt than mine, my friend."

He let out a high pitched giggle as the spray of water started to jet out of the showerhead. "We should join forces. Your next trip out here, let's the both of us take a trip to the girl's college in town. We'll streak a dorm together." The volume of his laughter was louder than the rushing water. With an impish grin like a schoolboy in a conspiratorial prank, he continued. "We'll just wear old rags on our way in so that if we can't get back to our clothes, it'll be no loss. We'll sneak away, our cocks waving around in the night air, before the cops come in and bust our bare asses." He was lit up with this bawdy scenario and let out a cattleman's whoop and banged on the stall wall with his fist. I had to admit I liked the way my new captive thought. Sometimes, no matter how hard one may try, the male of our species will always think with his dick. Starting to lather his sumptuous body parts, he casts almost a sober expression. "But you know one thing I learned today, Blonde? I really think that if we were to streak a men's dorm, we would turn more heads and get more guys to follow us than anybody else."

This was the one image that had more than a grain of truth to it, to me. My new intimate was being acquainted with a whole new paradigm of erotic attractions and the pleasures that follow. For a fleeting moment, it occurred to me that being naked together in any public setting cast an air of absurdity. We would certainly be perceived as mismatched: an archetype "odd couple". He must exceed me in height by 8 inches and is far superior to me in overall body condition, not to speak of clashing hair color and skin tone. "We would eventually be kidnapped into one of the bedrooms and a bunch of horny gang bangers would have their way with us", I intoned with mock seriousness.

My shower mate winked at me and acted out exaggerated boxing swipes. "I would fight them off for both of us." I had never taken a shower in such close proximity with such an Adonis like figure. As he soaped and lathered himself with glistening sensuality, I had absentmindedly begun to stroke my own aching 6.5" uncut cock to relieve the turmoil and tension that had been ruminating in my loins for so much of the day. The soft moans I elicited and open-mouthed face I wore betrayed the weary delicious feelings that were smothering me as I attended to my long pent up passionate tensions. "That's right, buddy", he spoke softly and reassuringly. "Just think about all those gals and guys who would chase after you. Think of how they would be just clamoring to get at your cock." Before I reached my climax, I stopped him from his intent lathering of his own genitals. I soaped his thicket, pouch of jewels, and some of his crotch behind. While stroking his rising cock with increased lather, my other hand created the exquisite friction that sent the heat and tension through my loins and out my cock. The first shot of ejaculatory fluid managed to elude many of the rushing drops spewing in the shower and strike the wall of the stall closest to me.

_______________________________

The shower and sex rejuvenated me. We both toweled off refreshed and when I wasn't looking; he gave me a sharp snap in the ass with his tightly wrapped towel, as if we were years younger in a high school locker room. His aim was dead on and the smarting feeling I suffered behind was worth it to see him gallivant naked, his dick and nut sac jerking and flopping about, to compliment his merriment.

It had been dark for at least an hour and we thought it best to unload the SUV with all but the most inessential items and organize our effects for the next day's hike. It was getting chilly and we had neglected to don our shirts. Back inside, opening the fridge for another round of beers, I slipped off my shorts and was unclothed again. Bob noticed this.

"Wait a minute stud, can't we at least relax before we fool around, again."

"What the hell, we're in here just by ourselves. What point is there in wearing any clothes? I was just thinking about cranking up that fireplace."

With a slightly vacant expression, my roommate mulled over this way of settling in. "I don't have an answer to that Blonde, so you must be right.' I heard the reassuring zip and he was pealing off his jeans to reveal all his charms again. Removing his second foot out of his pant leg he thought out loud, "I wonder if Anne and I would have spent all our time together naked if we were alone in the cabin. It usually is only in the warm summer evenings when we take our showers after coming home that we don't bother to put on any clothes."

He smiled as he recollected these moments of leisure. "We learned the hard way to keep a pair of my jeans by the front door in case company decided to visit." I heard him chuckle as he peered at my bare ass bent over the fireplace. I had noticed that the Park Service hospitality was even astute enough to provide ample starter kindling to assist in building a fire. With the help of that day's edition of the local newspaper, I had a blazing and crackling fire to ward off any chill that might irritate our nudity. We sat at the handcrafted sofa and began a long conversation. Swilling one beer after another, we spoke of professional sports, horses, camping and hiking, his girlfriend and girls in general, and my proclivities towards men and how men enjoy each other's company. I was still in awe of him; still "bowled over" and nervously distracted by the beauty of his nakedness. No matter how he was posed on the sofa, I was dumbfounded at how artfully his genital organs would hang between his legs. From time to time as I would respond to something he had to say, I would embarrassingly lose my train of thought.

Indulging in cliched cultural jargon, my amused companion recited, "him with pale hairs getting tired. Hey! That's a great Indian name for you Blonde: 'Him With Pale Hairs'".

"Oh, and what would be a good Indian name for you?", I queried.

He briefly tilted his head. His face like a light bulb alight broke out into another grin, "'Him Who Seeks Good Cocksucker'". He broke out into peels of laughter and gave my thigh a good slap. "Hey Blonde, I know", he spoke up with a slight slur of intoxication. "You couldn't be that heavy. Stand on the sofa and I will bend down in front of you so you can climb on my shoulders. You know, man!" he whined. "Didn't you ever play chicken when you were a kid?" I stood up as commanded and he wrapped one leg around his shoulder from a knee bent posture in front of me. Assisting me with the other leg, he stood up slightly bent before I could fall back. Before I knew it, I was being ridden about the room as if I were the trifling earth whirling about in space on Atlas's strong secure shoulders, my legs pinned to his hairy pectorals by muscular confident arms. The feeling of his warm upper back, shoulders, and back of his neck against all the exposed sensitive areas of my loins: my upper thighs, my ass, my crotch and pouch of balls; all that felt invigorated and tingling. In his partially drunken glee, I don't think he even felt my buzzing penis begin to swell against the back of his neck. I had to duck as he raced me past the threshold into the bedroom and laughingly poured my nakedness on to the bed. Grabbing me about the shoulders and arms he gave me playful squeezes as he shifted me about, almost as if he were at play with a puppy. Through gritting teeth he mouthed, "you're all right Blonde. You're one cute little cocksucker. . . . You know I haven't had this much fun since I don't know when. It's fun to have a guy friend to get naked with and horse around. You were right, it would have been stupid to put on any clothes"