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About thirty minutes into the trip home, Gus' phone buzzed back into service with all of the messages, notifications and calls he'd missed over the weekend. He glanced over at it to see a message from Aaron, who was driving no more than 50 feet in front of him on the highway. Gus opened the message to see a picture of Aaron's cock, hanging out of his fly with the steering wheel in view. Gus sped up and pulled even with Aaron, looking over at him to see Aaron smile back his way and stroke his cock in an exaggerated fashion so that Gus' got the gist. Gus smiled, and pulled his cock out of his jeans too, and called Aaron.
The two men talked, and took turns taking the lead for most of the drive home both stroking their cocks intermittently and discussing what they wanted to do to one another next time they met up, their favorite fishing holes, and places they'd always thought about fishing but not yet experienced. Over the course of the conversation, they'd planned out two fishing trips to spots neither of them had yet been, agreeing to set dates when they could check work schedules, commitments and the like. They made their way into the city and finally turned off the same path less than five miles before Gus arrived back at his house. "Damn, we live close to one another," Gus thought before the two said their goodbyes and agreed to be in touch soon. A text came over from Aaron as soon as Gus entered his house. It was a pin, dropped at Aaron's address with a message that read, "You're welcome anytime." Gus headed into his house through the rain, and spread his wet gear out in his basement to dry, his head still spinning from the attraction and longing he felt toward 'his' marine.
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