The Garden Shed Opens its Door Ch. 09

Chapter 9 Gary in the countryside

Gary had always enjoyed a ramble. The desire to ramble naked had come rather later in his life but the pleasures of countryside walking had been with him since a boy. In part he did enjoy the solitude. It was not that he did not sometimes walk with other people but it was good to be free to walk at his own pace and immerse himself in his own thoughts.

Standing on the old footbridge looking down into the sadly overgrown railway cutting Gary could see the young couple he had been watching earlier. Now with clothes removed, the girl's white dress set aside, they were absorbed in their lovemaking: indeed so absorbed they did not to see a face looking down at them. No doubt they thought themselves unobserved; thought their place private and simply had not seen the footbridge above them; perhaps it had been invisible through the obscuring leaves of the saplings now growing through the ballast of the old track; perhaps, and it was green painted, it did not show up against the sky with the trees all around it. Perhaps they had not really been looking.

Gary undid his zip and brought himself out into the sunshine. Unsurprisingly he was already hard at the scene he was observing and the warm sun felt good on his flesh. It was unlikely anyone would come across the footbridge that afternoon and if the young couple did look up and see not just a face peering down but an erection sticking out through the footbridge's railings they could hardly come up and complain. The path did not straightway join with the old railway line and they were not exactly dressed for chasing!

Gary wanked pleasantly as he watched the developing scene below. A so fortunate piece of Peeping Tommery and so pleasant not simply to watch but wank as well. Lovely to see the naked bodies. The girl as delightful naked as he had imagined when he had been watching them - and he saw everything. Her thighs splayed as his fingers played with her sex. He thought he could almost hear the wet sounds of fingers. Good too to see her fingers curled around her friend's penis and working it. Wonderful voyeurism. The boy was eager to go the whole way, a bit like a train charging up the line with throttle wide open, the girl's thighs were wide open and he eager to get into her 'tunnel.' The girl seemed happy enough to move from petting to the real thing.

Gary smiled at the simile in his mind as the boy had prepared to 'engage.' The copulation was fast and energetic: the movements matched by Gary's hand. Stirring stuff indeed!

Gary had wondered, when he had been watching them earlier, whether the couple might settle somewhere. He had so liked seeing them hand in hand; had so liked the way the girl's thin white cotton dress had floated around her; had enjoyed the sight of her bare legs and strappy sandals as he had approached them from behind; had watched the movement of her buttocks as he had got closer and then been, briefly, in conversation with them. That had been enough to fix her pretty face in his mind - to say nothing of the swell of her breasts. It had been such a pleasant surprise to, later, catch the glimpse of white beneath the footbridge and pause.

Beneath him, the girl rolled the boy over so she was on top and, riding cowgirl, gave Gary a much better view. He leaned even further forward, delighting in her young but nonetheless bouncing breasts, moving up and down as she rode her boyfriend's cock. A cry from her, a cry from him and Gary, too, let himself go, delighting to share in their orgasms; his hand moved fast and the inevitable happened; a strong spurt of semen launched itself from his penis, as it always did, up and into the air. Leaning, as he was, over the railing Gary not only saw the couple below but also his penis do its thing; the shot of semen shining white in the strong afternoon sun, seeming to hang in the air for a moment before falling down and down to splash, it appeared, right on the naked couple below. For a few seconds Gary's semen rained down upon the couple, but then there was no more. Neither girl nor boy seemed to notice how their private sexual congress had been joined by a third party not simply vicariously but in reality; that their exchange of bodily fluids had been joined by another's.

Gary smiled and, after a time, tucked himself away before resumed his walk. It had been stirring stuff indeed!

He had most certainly intended to have a nice little wank by himself that day. He had planned on finding some sunny little private spot to enjoy just playing with himself, getting himself out in the open, enjoying the warm sun on his skin - certainly enjoying the warm sun on his erection. It had however been better than that. Gary had been able to observe a nice young couple 'at it.' He had enjoyed the illicit thrill of watching them in secret; the girl's naked charms and the copulation. It was a shame the girl had not sucked. Gary would like to have seen that - the girl's lips around the boy's cock. If he was to picture the scene perfectly done the lad would have been naked and the girl kneeling but still in her white dress, although with her breasts brought out into sight. He had not, though, seen that. One could not have everything! But no matter, he had been unexpectedly treated and he knew he would be wanking again and again to the real as well as imaginary scenes in his mind.

That wonderful sunny afternoon had been long ago back when he was still with his wife, though not when things had been good. Even so, back before she had made his virtually impotent with her sarcasm and derision. That had not been an easy time. It had been back when he had delighted in getting out of the house and walking peacefully on his own and had found solace in his thoughts and masturbation.

It had been a wonderful event, a more than memorable experience. The couple no doubt never had an inkling they had been observed; had no idea how important their display had been for Gary; how sustaining the memory had been for him. Thereafter, whenever he crossed that bridge he always, as a matter of ritual, exposed himself. For him to allow himself to cross the bridge his cock needed to be poking out of his fly. Sometimes hard; sometimes soft and sometimes he would then stand looking out from the bridge, his cock poking out of the railings and wank; and if he did that then he would wank to a conclusion. It was a ritual. Once again letting his semen fly and fall to the ground or leaves below. His cock might be small and stumpy but he could certainly let fly - and fly it did! A pleasure for him to watch whether in the heat of the summer or cold of the winter.

He had done the act with the snow on the ground, had brought his penis out into the chilly air and with pleasurable thoughts of women in fur coats (and nothing else) had sent his semen spurting out into the cold, frosty air to fall sizzling on the snow far below - well the 'sizzling' bit was somewhat of an exaggeration but it was a pleasing idea nonetheless!

He had done the act with the rain pouring down, his penis poking out of his mackintosh 'flasher' like. his semen falling not just like rain but together with the real rain down into the old cutting below.

Gary wondered if the couple were still together? Were they now a middle aged couple with children? Did they remember their afternoon in the overgrown seclusion of the old railway line? Had they more than once walked that way? Did they still walk that way? He had always kept in his mind a hope he might come across them again. His best thought that he might come across them strolling naked; the couple having left their clothes behind and gone for just a short walk naked in the sunshine. It might well have been something they would not have thought of; an idea which did not appeal or else the girl too scared to do such a thing because of the thought they might meet someone. It was so much Gary's type of fantasy, born of his developing pleasure in being naked outside himself.

He particularly liked the idea of coming across them not only naked but aroused. The boy's arousal so obvious, his erection so very present: but the girl's nipples hard and elongated too, a flush to her cheeks and perhaps there might be a glimpse of moisture shining wetly in the sunlight between her thighs. To have come across them like that, perhaps even with the boy's penis shining with the girl's wetness revealing they had been intermittently fucking as they had walked in the sunshine - a prolonged travelling intercourse - was a delightful thought. Perhaps the girl bending and being taken from behind for a few strokes or perhaps reaching up to lift herself up on a branch and then to descend onto her boyfriend's cock as she wrapped her legs around him. Not continuous intercourse but intermittent interludes to a sunny afternoon's stroll. A prolonged, peripatetic intercourse. Perhaps the girl's hand lightly holding her boyfriend's erection instead of his hand when they had come across Gary.

Their wonderful shock at seeing Gary; perhaps quite tongue-tied as he stopped to talk to them seemingly almost unaware of their nudity and arousal. The girl's hand perhaps snatched away from the boy's wet erection - perhaps not. Naturally in later years, Gary had imagined himself also naked. A little more pre-planned, a little more unlikely that he would have known where they were walking and that they were walking naked in just the same place, but nonetheless the pleasant idea of them seeing him suddenly in front of them on a country path as naked as they. Not himself aroused of course: not immediately anyway! How pleasant to stop and talk; talk about how nice walking naturally in the countryside was; and better still to find himself rising as he talked; the girl's eyes widening as she saw what was happening; until there were two erect men on the path. Gary imagining the young man's erection not going down at all.

All so unlikely, but sexual fantasy hardly needs to be realistic. The pleasant thoughts one has in ideal moments about the young secretary at the office are just not going to happen in real life. She just is not going to have a desperate need to suck your cock. But isn't it nice to imagine!

Gary imagined himself apologising for his erection - and its smallness - and perhaps the lad trying to be complimentary by commenting upon its remarkable girth. So nice to have the two young persons looking at it. The young girl perhaps saying she was sure she could not get her hand around it and then Gary inviting her to try. The girl looking at the boy for permission and with a nod it being granted.

The wonderful thought of standing there with the girl reaching and, of course, taking the boy in hand as well at the same time. She smiling and looking from one to the other, now with a penis in each hand and working both. Might she and the boyfriend copulate whilst Gary watched, the couple having become comfortable in Gary's presence; might they copulate whilst the girl worked Gary; might they instead walk on together with the girl holding both penises for a while or might she bring them both off by hand? Perhaps even both on that footbridge - two jets of semen falling. The girl perhaps both giggling and exclaiming as Gary produced copiously; even the boyfriend looking wide eyed and amazed at the prolific 'shower' Gary's little cock could produce. The girl goading her boyfriend with a 'go on, match that' and despite his best efforts his ejaculation just not being up to Gary's - by a mile! Lovely suggestions of 'we must do this again.'

Such a thing so unlikely but it remained a favourite fantasy. It came again and again, as Gary did to it! Even recently Gary had sat in his shed with the thoughts of the couple from long ago. Had thought pleasantly back and enjoyed his fantasy once more.

Zara liked walking and had walked before with Gary. One afternoon Zara had telephoned and suggested they walk again. Gary had been delighted the teen had thought of him rather than going walking with some of her young friends. Not a naked walk of course. Perhaps if it had been the lonely moors then... but it was not and there were indeed other walkers out and about. Walkers who no doubt thought young Zara was out walking with her father or even grandfather. More than a few no doubt admired the girl's long slim legs under her short skirt and above her walking boots. It is unlikely they even looked at Gary.

The walk lead to the bridge, the self same bridge Gary had wanked at all those years before and, as the ritual demanded, Gary needed to expose himself. He was pretty sure sex with Zara featured in her plans for the afternoon but he was not sure when or how. He did not even know if she was wearing panties beneath her skirt. To just unzip and get out his penis would seem a little odd. Gary thought he had better explain.

He paused at the start of the bridge, "Zara there is something I need to tell you."

She had clearly thought it some terribly serious revelation and when he had actually explained she had burst out laughing. "Gary - what a story! You didn't, not really, not on them! A...mazing! And I love your cock ritual. Where is it. Let me get it out."

Delightful to have the young girl fumbling with the fly of his shorts and dragging his immediately erect penis out. Not very far of course but the stumpy thing showed, its big thick knob poking out of the material.

"Should I hand you my panties? Would that satisfy your ritual?"

There was no need at all, nothing in Gary's rule book about what accompanying girls should do. Zara reached down and Gary soon had a scrap of cotton in his hand: but Zara had his cock. Lovely to walk onto and half way across the footbridge like that. They turned and leant over the rail looking down.

"I see," said Zara, "quite a way down. So that's the old railway track."

"Yeah, the track bed in a cutting. Pretty overgrown. Not much of a path down there though you can get there." His hand reached up and into her skirt.

It is not many men in their late fifties who have the easy opportunity of playing around under a nineteen year old's skirt - without payment that is! More than old enough to be her father, her grandfather even at a push, there was no squeal or shocked reaction. Quite the opposite. Her body pushed against his.

"Mmmm, Gary, oooh, fingers, in me already!" Her fingers slid up and down on his erection moving his foreskin. "Go on, show me what you did. I don't mean cum, just wee. You must have done that before here surely?"

"Um, err, yes. You sure?" The extra speed on his foreskin appeared to be a 'yes,' and, despite the lovely sensations of Zara's moving fingers, despite his erection, Gary relaxed his sphincter.

"Hee, hee, great! Look at that!" Gary's wee was rising up in a parabolic arc, a very similar trajectory to his semen all those years ago before falling down and down but much more the torrent than his semen had been. As to be expected from a girl let loose on a man's penis whilst weeing she moved it all around sending it hosing this way and that to girlie giggles.

She even shook it at the end of its flow. "Silly but sexy, Gary. I want to see you cum too but I want to be on the receiving end, no, not just fucked on the bridge but for me to be down there with your cum falling on me. I can't have both! Come on fuck me now for a bit then let's go down there."

Lovely, of course, for any man to get behind a teen leaning over a bridge railing, raise her skirt and push into her and fuck. Perhaps even better when as old as Gary, but it does help if you have a reasonable length of penis. A bit more difficult for Gary but he dropped his shorts before lifting the skirt and, pushing himself against her so soft buttocks, he lodged, but only just. Though, to be fair, what he lodged was certainly noticeable - he had his thick knob inside her. It was one of those times he wished for a long penis.

Gentle fucking so as not to dislodge himself, his hand coming around under her and slipping up into her top and onto her breasts. It was good - perhaps the better for being in Gary's special place - the one which was not his shed!

"Come on, Gary, let's go down," She wriggled away pulling herself from him.

Gary pulled his shorts up but left his penis out. He was on the footbridge after all. A right turn down a little track and then a descent into the cutting. There was a path but only just. It was not one of those old railway lines made into a council maintained footpath or bicycle track. Around them it was quiet and cool, the saplings providing shade and it was not easy to see the wooden footbridge above.

"It's nice down here, private and secluded. We must come here again. Not..." she giggled, "that I've cum yet!" Her hand reached for the clip of her skirt and in a trice it was off, along with her top and brassiere. "How's that?"

"Lovely, Zara, lovely." And she was, so beautifully naked in the dappled green light. Apart from walking boots, that is, and that just seemed to add to the sexiness. So desirable. He stepped towards her, his erection pressing against her mons as he dropped his shorts.

"No, Gary," but, her thighs were apart and he was already in her before she could stop him and she let him move within her for a bit, "No, I lie under the bridge and you go up there and when I say, you come all over me like you did that couple. Where shall I be?"

There was one patch of sunlight very near where the bridge overhung the cutting. It made Zara very obvious - a target.

Zara positioned, Gary ran back up to the bridge his erection bounding leaving his shorts and pants behind. Properly exposed he stepped onto the bridge and walked to the middle and looked down. It was reminiscent of the couple except it was just Zara lying there in what might reasonably be described as sexual abandonment. 'Spread' was a good word. She was lying with thighs wide open and fingers working, pleasuring herself. Not just her sex but breasts as well. Zara had seen him arrive but then her eyes had closed and, evidently, was concentrating on the feeling from her fingers. A voyeur's delight and Gary began working himself marvelling that just a few minutes before his penis had been inside the very sex he was now watching with desire. His fingers pulled his foreskin up and down as if he was in his private garden shed. It was wet from her. It felt great.

But he was not in his private shed: he was on a public footpath without shorts and with his nether regions not exactly completely hidden by his shirt and certainly not his stumpy erection which was in his hand.

"What the...?" It was a man, a complete stranger all alone and at the end of the footbridge staring at the wanking Gary. Embarrassment big time. Perhaps men are more understanding of other men and their needs but even so public masturbation is a bit not the 'done thing.' Gary reacted quickly, years of police training to deal with unexpected situations came in handy - though this was not exactly the sort of situation normally envisaged for a police constable. His finger went to his lips in the well know sign for silence and he pointed down below the bridge.

The man with a very wary look to his face came forward clearly looking at Gary's exposed and tumescent genitalia, probably wondering where his trousers or shorts had gone and then looked down below the bridge at what Gary was pointing to.

"Fuck! Oh, yes, I see." It was said in a hoarse whisper

All was explained - except perhaps the lack of Gary's shorts.

"Whoah, yeah... what a... Nice, mate, can't blame you, she's a... Phew!" He stared and stared at the masturbating teen and then turned and looked down with something of a significant look at Gary's penis. "Think I'll join you. May I?"

"Be my guest!" Such a strange request and reply.

The man unzipped his jeans and pulled out an already erect, respectably sized cock and began to wank.