Camping Trip

James had parked the F 150 truck under a cluster of nearby pine trees about 18 hours earlier. We awoke almost at the same time in our Sportsmen SE travel trailer. I looked over at my boyfriend seeing only his bare chest. The blanket on our queen bed covered him from just below his pecs.

His body is toned, the result of many many hours of weightlifting. At 5 10 his eyes are two inches above mine. His light brown hair frames a square face. His blue eyes gleam in the light.

My body is contrasted with his. I'm shorter and somewhat more slender. My hair is black and my eyes brown.

I asked, "how did you sleep."

He said, "It didn't take long once we finished."

I pushed the blanket off my naked body and got up. I needed coffee if nothing else, but eggs would be good.

James came to the table less than a minute afterward. Our lips touched sending the sound of our kiss through our trailer.

James is forty one and I am 21. The story of how we met is most unusual.

A year ago

My appointment at the medical center had been scheduled for 10 A M that Tuesday in June. A Google search had pointed me to the clinical psychiatrist doctor James Kent, someone who could help me come to terms with being homosexual.

I had been waiting some 10 minutes past the sceduled apointment reading a copy of Popular Mechanics when he finally gestured for me to follow him.

"How are you today?"

"I'm well," I said.

He asked, "when did you first realize your orientation."

"At puberty," I replied. "I've never actually been interested in girls."

He said, "I had dated girls in highschool."

I asked, "and you switched sides."

He said, "switching sides is more common than you think."

"Really," I said in disbelief.

He related his life story. "I enlisted in the army out of highschool and had to deal with DADT. The desire for man on man sex was coming to the surface and I couldn't act on it."

"Everything I was taught tells me that it's so wrong."

He said, "so now you have to re learn."

I said, "I can't bring myself to come out to anyone."

He said, "I came out to friends I knew were gay."

"I worry about what people say behind my back, and about relentless teasing."

He said, "you can't worry about that crap."

I said, "I guess you're right."

"I am right. You have no reason to be ashamed. Being gay is NOT your fault. It's genetic."

That last sentence would stay in my subconscious.

I wanted to relate sexual fantasies about being with a man. As if reading my mind he asked, "do you pretend there's a man with you when you masturbate."

The question made me blush.

He continued making his point. "Masturbation is a natural and normal thing to do. It means you really want to have sex with a man and that's ok."

"I do," I said.

He mentioned that "a great many celebrities are gay and lesbian."

"Uh huh," I said.

"Society is changing," he said.

I asked, "what about friends."

"Your true friends will stand by you. If they go away then they never actually were friends."

I said, "I don't want to be seen as effeminate."

He nodded. "You will not be seen that way unless you act the part. Don't walk around with limp wrists as though you're carrying a pocketbook. Don't go on about the bargains at the Christmas Tree shop."

"I try not to," I said.

"My guess is your friends will be surprised by your revelation but they'll accept you."

We filled the remaining time with small talk. He talked about going on a date with a guy named Alan.

He asked, "would you like to see me again."

I said, "yes."

He looked at the calendar in his computer and scheduled the appointment.

A week later I went directly to the medical center from work. Between appointments I could not get him out of my head. He knows that I masturbate, I thought as I sat waiting for him. I wrestled with the question of whether or not to tell him that I'm crushing on him.

"How are you today," he asked.

"Fine thanks," I replied.

I rambled on for several minutes about crushes on boys, fear of acting on them, my parents view of being gay and crap I heard in church.

James asked, "how old were you when you had your first crush."

"Sophomore year," I said.

Doctor Kent asked, "did you tell him."

"I couldn't," I said.

"You could've just said that you're gay and left it at that. You didn't have to say that He makes you masturbate."

"I suppose so," I said.

I did have a crush on doctor Kent and those romantic feelings gave way to my next act.

I asked, "what if I took off my clothes."

"You're joking," said the doctor.

I pulled off the dark-blue polo shirt then the T-shirt. Stunned, he looked at me and said, "this is a first."

I took off my pants and BVDs. My penis went erect instantly. He remained speechless.

I stood up and took a step closer to his desk. "I want to make love with you."

"It's not professional," said James.

"I don't give a shit. I want to make love with you."

Despite what he said, he didn't take his eyes off my naked body.

"I'll stop seeing you as a patient if that's what it would take for you to kiss me."

He stood up from the desk letting his eyes meet my eyes. The look gave way to an open-mouthed kiss.

He stepped back and began undressing. Fully naked at last, he leaned into another kiss, this one more passionate than the first. His hand closed loosely around my dick.

"I don't have anything to keep us safe. I don't have lube or a condom. Let's get dressed and I'll take you out for dinner tonight."

"I like that idea," I said.

Back to the present

James took my hand in his as we strolled through the woodland looking at the birds and scenery.

I asked, "do you remember the first time we made love."

"I do," he said. "It could've cost me my license, my job."

"In my defense, I did stop seeing you professionally."

We stopped and gazed into each other's eyes. Faces inched closer. Lips touched.

Within seconds I went onto my hands and knees naked. Soft groans masked my pleasure as my naked lover pushed his thick cock into me touching my prostate. That organ slid slowly back and forth.

This rules, I thought. Fucking outdoors rules.