The Outback

In reality, this was probably the first time I'd watched a man take a piss before without having to pretend not to watch. It seemed so intimate to be watching so intently, even though I'd stood beside probably thousands of guys doing exactly the same thing.

I watched fascinated as he shook himself off, milking the last couple of drops with a few strokes, just as I'd always done.

As he went to tuck himself back in his pants, he paused a second though, looking up at the horizon, his hand still on his dick. He gave it another absent shake, and a couple of strokes as he watched the horizon.

Decision seemingly made, he leaned back against the veranda post and slid his underwear down, exposing his arse and sack.

I sat frozen on the bed, daring not to move for fear of giving myself away. I could see where this was going already, but if he realised I was here now, he'd know that I'd been watching all along.

I guess I could have slid down on the bed a little, and even closed my eyes, but I couldn't seem to look away.

A couple of strokes in and he was already hard, his hand moving slowly along the length of his uncut pole. He'd grown in those few seconds from a swinging, soft cock, to an impressive-looking, girthy piece of meat.

His balls swung slowly to the rhythm of his strokes as his free hand slowly tracked across his naked chest. He paused at his nipples, flicking, and tickling one before moving across to the other side and repeating the movements.

He paused his stroking from time to time to rub his hand over his hairy sack, his fingers cupping and stroking the fragile package.

I tried hard not to acknowledge the swelling erection beneath my own towel. Weeks without porn had left me a total mess, and this was a real live-action sex show outside my window. The fact that it was the wrong gender just didn't seem to matter much in this moment.

My open window let in his low moans, as he leaned against the veranda post and faced the rising sun. Assuming I was still a couple of hours away, he was uninhibited, giving voice to his internal fantasy. I couldn't help but smile as I listened.

"Aw fuck, that's right." He moaned. "Mmmhhhm. Aw yeah, open wide and swallow me, baby."

He was stroking harder and faster now, his balls swinging in a blur. His roving fingers tweaked his nipple hard, his head tipping back against the post.

The rising sun breached the horizon and shone a warm orange light across his body.

"Mmmmm, yeah, swallow me down." He moaned. "Aw fuck yeah, baby. Yeah, that's gunna make me cum."

I could almost see the naked chick that he was projecting in his mind, kneeling down before him, and swallowing his cock. Her finger gently tickling his ballsack with her manicured nails. I was fully erect myself now, and giving up on the pretence that I wasn't turned on, I opened my towel and began to stroke as well.

His moans were becoming more insistent.

"Oh yeah, don't stop now, baby. Oh yeah, I'm gunna cum down your throat. Oh yeah, baby I'm gunna cum."

His hand moved in a blur now, jerking off in earnest in the dawn light. My own cock was slick with pre cum as it leaked between my fingers and spread over my shaft.

His back arched, eyes closed, as he neared his climax. His final cries heralded the arrival of his orgasm.

"Oh that's right, Dean, you're gunna swallow it all!"

I froze, shocked as Neel thrust his pelvis forward, moaning and shooting a huge arc of cum outwards into the humid dawn air.

Like a bolt of lightning, him calling out my name as he came changed everything. It wasn't some naked, big chested blonde's face he imagined spraying with cum. It was mine.

His cries were non-coherent now as he sprayed hot cum across the red dirt. Sweat dripped down his face as his panting slowed with his strokes.

Not game to move, I lay there still, watching as Neel caught his breath, slowly stroking the last of the cum from the end of his softening cock. He flicked his hand, flinging globs of cum from his fingers out into the dirt.

Still barely breathing, I watched in shock as Neel stuck his fingers absent-mindedly into his mouth, licking the remaining cum from them before wiping them on his underwear. The smeared stains were joined by the leaking remnants from the end of his cock, soiling the pants further as he stuffed his softening wood back inside. He turned and walked back through the door to his room.

Shocked, I sat back against my pillow, still gripping my hard cock, but frozen.

He was fantasising about me!

I lay down, trying to forget what I had seen, but every time I closed my eyes, the image of his orgasm flashed into my brain, only now it was my face in the imaginary firing line. I could almost feel his cum spraying across my lips as it erupted from his thick cock.

My tongue had slipped unnoticed out of my mouth, as if searching for a taste of the forbidden liquid on my lips. Of its own accord my hand had started stroking my cock again.

Horrified at the implications of this, I hastily got up from bed, mentally slapping myself across the face to snap me out of it.

My cock stood defiantly straight up before me, uninterested in my prudish objections.

Silently, I reassured myself.

"You're straight as they come. You're just horny from not having sex. Neel too. We're both straight."

It repeated in my mind like a mantra as I tried desperately to ignore the erection that seemed to be voicing an objection before me.

Totally unable to sleep now, I awkwardly manoeuvred my stubborn hard on into some underwear and put on a singlet. I grabbed a book and sat back on my bed as the sun shone in through the window.

Reading the same sentence over and over, I was completely unable to concentrate. I knew that a quick wank would sort me out, but with no access to some straight porn to replace the images in my mind, I knew that jerking off now would just land me right back on my knees in front of Neel's throbbing cock...

I shook myself again as I heard Neel re-emerge from his room, now showered and ready for work. He looked as he usually did, with a tight T-shirt, khaki shorts and sturdy hiking boots, his bag slung over his back.

His muscular arms stretched the sleeves of his shirt, and the faint spots of sweat already showed as the humid weather heated up.

My eye was drawn, though, straight to his crotch. Had he always worn such tight shorts? I had never noticed the substantial bulge in the front of his pants, but now it seemed impossible to miss.

I watched him like a predator in a nature documentary; perfectly still, barely breathing, only my eyes following him. I was transfixed in a way that I'd never been before.

As he walked, his bulge was pushed from side to side, and I could almost see the package it held inside. I wondered absently whether he still leaked a little cum under his foreskin even now.

As he finally drove away in his buggy, I breathed a sigh of relief that I hadn't been discovered. As my cock ached, straining against the cotton of my briefs, I struggled to find a way to turn my mind to other thoughts.

With a sudden resolve, I headed back to the bathroom, and turned on the cold tap. Stepping under the water though, I found it didn't have the desired sobering effect. The growing heat of the day gave the water a refreshing twist, and as the drops ran down my skin, I felt as though my cock would burst with the pressure of my pulsing erection.

As I stepped out of the shower again, and wrapped myself in my towel, I tried to come up with a plan.

Maybe, I reasoned, I just needed to take away some of the mystery. Surely if I actually saw or smelt his fluids in real life, it would disgust me enough to snap me out of this stupid funk.

I was generally grossed out by my own cum once the orgasmic waves subsided and was sure a quick sniff of his would have me near to gagging. Just the kind of cure I needed.

Confident he had left, and wearing only my towel, I stepped out into the courtyard, my mind now made up.

I walked over to the veranda where he had stood stroking less than an hour ago and searched for the remains of his fountainous orgasm. Dismayed, I looked in vain, as the sun had already dried out the evidence of his pleasure.

I looked behind me, imagining someone watching me as I walked the grounds with a very obvious erection tenting the front of my towel.

As I turned, I saw that his sliding door was open, just a tiny bit. Glancing behind me again, a wave of guilt washing quickly over me, I walked over and slid the door slowly open. I stood listening, waiting for an accusing voice, even though I knew no one was here.

His room was dim, the curtains still drawn from the night before. I glanced at his unmade bed, sheets askew and pillows strewn at random. The smell of sweat lingered just under the soap and deodorant from his shower.

His laundry hamper stood in the corner, calling to me like a siren on the rocks. Still clinging to the thin veil of my plan, I stepped forward, searching for the soiled underwear he had not long removed.

There, sitting at the top of his pile of dirty clothes, his tight briefs sat, nearly covered by a blue singlet. With a pincer grip, I reached out and grabbed them by the edge, holding them up in the dim light. My towel unravelled as I straightened, coiling around my feet on the floorboards.

The remains of his orgasm still moistened the stretched bulge at the front of his briefs, residual cum smeared along the inside of the material.

I looked at it, trying to envisage the sense of disgust that I needed to shut down the images in my head. I focussed on the ridiculousness of my predicament, trying to shame myself out of it. Here I stood, naked and hard in another man's room, examining the stains on his underwear.

I pushed further, drawing the soiled cloth closer to my face, and took a long, deep inhalation.

The scent of him hit me like a freight train. The salty, masculine, locker-room odour of his sweat and secretions washed over me. Overlying it all, the saline, almost metallic smell of his cum floated straight to my olfactory senses.

The vision hit me again, much stronger this time. I could see myself as if floating out of my body, kneeling naked in the red dirt. Neel stroked himself to climax, crying out as he sprayed fountains of cum into my mouth and over my face.

The scent of it made it all the more real and his pleasure seemed to wash over me as well. My instincts finally took hold of me, my futile attempts to redirect my thoughts having failed. I lay back on his unmade bed with his underwear draped over my face.

With a tight fist, I stroked myself no more than 5 times before the pleasure finally burst from me. I came hard, spraying it over my torso and nearly to my chin.

As the climactic tide finally receded, I lay still, catching my breath once again.

Suddenly feeling the cum running down my sides, I panicked, remembering where I was. Just in time to rescue the sheets from my tell-tale secretions, I mopped unthinkingly at the drenching cum with Neel's soiled underwear.

Finally realising my error in judgement, I looked down in horror at the sodden material in my hand. There was no time to wash and dry them before he came home, and surely he'd notice if his underwear went missing.

Desperate, I looked down into the nearly full washing hamper and thrust the evidence of my transgression deep inside, wrapping it in an old T shirt, and hoping that it would not be discovered.

Suddenly certain that he would return now and catch me in his room, I grabbed my towel and ran naked across the courtyard back to the safety of my room.

I spent the rest of the day in a state of muted panic. Entirely unable to sleep, I lay on my bed, imagining Neel coming home and discovering his now doubly-soiled underwear in his hamper.

I couldn't believe I'd been so stupid! I was usually a very cautious man, and to follow my cock so recklessly like this was unthinkable.

I whiled away the hours, trying to distract myself. I tried reading a book, but after 20 minutes of just reading over the same paragraph repeatedly, I finally put it away.

I decided to go for a run to sweat out some of my latent frustration. It was only a few hundred metres, however before the combination of friction and bouncing of my already-jazzed genitals had me so uncomfortably hard that I needed to rub out a quick load behind a tree.

The day finally passed, though, and I tried my hardest to look relaxed as Neel walked in through the door, sweaty and caked in mud from his work.

"Hey!" I mumbled, aiming for a nonchalant greeting but somehow landing on a slightly strangled syllable.

"Hey, mate." Neel said cheerfully as he walked in. "Cracker of a day out there! Shame you slept through it, I guess. You have a good night?"

"Yeah, it went fine." I lied, glossing over my battery mishap and early finish. "Be glad when the night work is done though! Getting a bit over trying to sleep through the day."

"Yeah, I'll bet," Neel agreed as he threw me a cold beer out of the fridge. "At least it's the weekend, I guess."

"Just one more night" I said, holding up a finger. "Looking forward to a night off!"

"That's for sure. I have a decent bottle of scotch I've been keeping aside that we should get out this weekend. I think it's time for a night on the piss!" he laughed as he headed down the hall towards his room. "I'm going to jump in the shower and wash some of this mud off me. I'll come back and get dinner started soon."

I sat on the couch near frozen as he walked away and towards the scene of my indiscretion. Agonising over what to do, my mind raced. It took more than 10 minutes to decide, but eventually I landed on a plan.

Walking up to his door, I knocked and called out to him.

"Hey, man, I'm going to put on a load of washing. Want me to grab yours and do it together?"

I tried to ignore the pleading tone of my voice as I waited for a reply.

"Yeah, thanks, mate. That'd be great. Just come in, the basket's right by the door."

Relieved, I stepped into the room, reaching for the washing basket. Glancing toward his open bathroom door, I could see the back of his naked body standing in front of the sink. I stared a moment at his muscular arse, surprised at its hairless skin among an otherwise reasonably hairy body.

Glancing up, I caught his gaze watching me in the bathroom mirror as he shaved. His eyes gave nothing away, but he held my gaze when I looked at him.

"Thanks mate." He said quietly. "I'll be out in 5."

Nearly tripping over myself as I awkwardly turned back towards the door, knocking the full basket against the wall in my haste.

"Wait a sec."

I turned to see him walking naked out of the bathroom towards me, his damp cock catching my gaze with its hypnotic swing. I caught myself and dragged my eyes away.

He reached over to his bed and picked up a piece of blue cloth, throwing it to me. I caught it reflexively in my hand without really looking.

"They could really do with a wash as well." He said, holding my gaze. The hint of a smirk tickled the corners of his mouth.

Speechless, I nodded, stepping out of the room, and closing the door behind me. The damp, stickiness of the material in my hand already told me what I was holding. I glanced down quickly, hoping I was wrong, but confirming what I already knew.

His tight blue briefs, complete with my load smeared copiously all over them.

A stone suddenly plummeted into my stomach as the implications hit me. I'd buried these in his hamper, but when he threw them to me, they'd been on his bed.

There was only one possible explanation.

He knew!