ures. The newspaper received such a wave of positive praise from readers that I've been assigned a similar story about local state parks and all they have to offer.So in the last five days, I've visited six parks and talked to rangers, naturalists, administrators, volunteer program coordinators, and a wide range of park patrons. I kind of figured "a park is a park," but each location has turned out to be somewhat unique. One, for instance, was best known for its large number of rental cabins and it's brisk year-round appeal for conferences, family reunions, honeymoon and anniversary getaways, and even holiday extravaganzas at Christmas and New Year's. Another park was all about outdoor pursuits and prided itself on several fishing clinics, a hiking series, nature walks, survival skills courses, and extremely popular cross-country ski trails. A third location was dominated by lakes so it was a natural locus for boating, water skiing, canoeing and kayaking, and even some "wind surfing" in limited areas. A marina and beach area is reportedly packed with outdoors lovers from Memorial Day to a week or two after Labor Day. And two seasons ago, the park managers had to institute "waiting lists" for their swimming and water safety courses.
Today, I was speaking with the manager of a lodge and conference center at the big state park one county to the west of the paper's main readership cluster. After 60 minutes of looking at brochures and countless photos of weddings and proms and corporate retreats, I was ready to gouge my eyes out. I informed the manager, a striking woman with the well-toned body of a 40-year-old and the energy of a nuclear reactor, that I wanted to take a few moments to look around outside. She quickly offered to accompany me, but I told her I liked to "acclimate" on my own but assured her I'd be in touch with some follow-up questions. She seemed mollified as she escorted me to the entrance veranda. Her parting hand pumping nearly shattered several bones.
I descended into the parking area and approached my trusty Chevy. With my arm outstretched, I aimed my fob and popped my trunk. After stowing my camera bag and note pad, I quickly swapped out my loafers for a pair of old ratty sneakers I keep in my car. Once everything was secured, I opened two buttons on my dress shirt and meandered down the central lodge drive toward an area where a number of trails branched off into the woods. I was contemplating one particular trail ... labeled "Eagle Landing" ... when movement caught my eye across the way. Moving briskly into the open from another trail was a hiker. And he was fucking gorgeous!!
Fuck me, I thought as he came closer, I'd make time for that any day! The hiker was of medium height with a tight and compact build. Although he appeared pretty grungy, nothing could take away from his high cheekbones, stubbled chin, and the way he shouldered his knapsack ... you know, the serious kind that protrudes above the back a few inches with a bedroll strapped tightly to the bottom and probably more supplies inside than Batman's utility belt. And his legs ... sculpted muscles covered with a forest of dark hair. I just stood transfixed as he came up beside me and passed with a curt nod and a baritone "hey." I rotated to keep him in sights, his legs flexing as he moved off.
I allowed him to get maybe 20 feet up the drive before I stopped him with a plaintive "hey" of my own. Why the fuck did I do that?, I screamed at myself. I trotted over to him, my brain scrambling for what to say. He stood holding the straps of his knapsack. He was wearing a peach t-shirt that was thin and hugged his damp torso; perspiration stains darkened the areas under his arms. A logo of some type was so faded that it was unrecognizable. His hair ... brown and longish ... also glistened with the moisture of the warm afternoon, and his hiking shorts were a dark green and cut so as to reveal little detail of his hips and buttocks. I wonder if he'd let me smell the sweaty asscrack of his pants, I mused. This guy was just sexy personified.
"Something funny, man?" the hiker asked abruptly. He was staring directly at me with deep and slightly accusing green eyes. Had I been smiling thinking about his ass?
I tried to compose my face. "I'm a reporter with a local paper and I, um, wanted to know what you thought of this park?"
He maintained his stare and motionless stance. "A reporter, huh? Where's your tape recorder? And your press credentials?"
That flummoxed me a bit, but I assured him I was a legitimate small-time journalist. "And I think I can remember a few brief things. That's what I'm trained to do," I added.Well, my bluster apparently broke the ice because the hiker barked a short laugh. His smile came to him easily; it was dazzling. "Well OK, Matt Lauer ... my name's Josh and I was just yanking your chain. I love this place. The rangers and other people have really taken care of the land. I'm a student and I always take two weeks about this time of year to just disappear and decompress from all the stress in my life. This is my favorite spot in the whole state. I have a camp about four miles up in the hills but every so often I pop down here to the bathhouse to wash off the stink. Can't tell if you are downwind or not ..." and here Josh inhaled a huge amount of air, his pecs expanding and making his chest even more delicious looking ... "but I fuckin' reek! I have the brain of an outdoorsman, but the sense of smell of a city slicker. My nose begs me to hit the showers every three or four days."
Trying to be covert, I too inhaled deeply. Josh's musk was strong and intoxicating. I didn't want this studly frontiersman to leave my sight, so I quickly asked another question. He cut me off in mid sentence. "Listen, buddy ... like I said, it's Josh, love the place, people are great, and I stink. See ya." He graced my with another high-wattage smile and walked away.
I continued to track Josh as he moved to a bend in a much smaller paved path that, according to its signage, led to a small campground with bathroom and shower facilities. Just as he was about to crest a small rise and disappear from sight, Josh stopped and turned back in my direction. He paused just long enough to see that I was looking and then bounded up and over the crest of the asphalt lane.
Why had he stopped? Was that an invitation to follow? Could my cock be any stiffer?
In a split-second accord between my head and my pecker, I sprinted after Josh. The paved ribbon wound through the trees for a bit before dead-ending at a cinder block structure with well-maintained lots to both sides. Tents and fire pits and maybe 10 campers dotted the grassy areas. The "facilities" Josh had mentioned was mostly featureless and painted a burnt orange color. Two black rectangles ... one labeled "men," the other "women" ... sat in the center of the width of the edifice like nostrils. After a few seconds of hesitation, I tapped into all my courage and horniness and entered the right side of the nose.
After a short snake to the right and a moraine of darkness that caused my eyesight to blur slightly before adjusting, I entered a pretty standard bathroom. Basic tan tiles ... large pieces for the floor and much smaller squares rising about four feet up the walls. The left side of the room held a series of sinks and mirrors. A small ledge allowed for the placement of toothbrushes and other toiletries. Both paper towel dispensers and hot-air blowers adorned the walls between the basins. On the opposite wall was five dingy urinals and four metal-walled bathroom stalls. Not a single stall door hung properly, and each had a gaping hole where a latch and backing plate had been removed. They remind me of glory holes, I imagined lustfully. That bodes well. Another smile played across my face.
The room itself was dimly lit with a combination of glass-block windows and badly-yellowed fluorescent lights that attracted clouds of tiny gnats. A disinfectant smell hung in the air but there seemed to be no one "at home" to be bothered by the chemical aroma.
But while my sense of sight and smell detected nothing of Josh, the sound of running water lured me deeper into the room. I crossed through the lavatory area and took a hard right into a shower area located directly behind the shitters. I was standing in what appeared to be a changing area. The small square enclosure had badly-beaten and dented lockers on one side and hooks on the other. In the middle of the room, a wooden bench sat bolted to the floor; hundreds of names, phone numbers, and obscenities had been carved into its surface. Directly ahead was the source of the sound ... a cement corridor flanked on each side by three showers ... six in all. Cheap and iron-stained plastic curtains hung open on five of the units, displaying cracked and pitted concrete surfaces. The smell of mildew was mostly masked by the same cleaning agents I smelled earlier. The sixth shower ... last on the left ... appeared to be in use.
My line of sight was piss poor, but I could see a human-shaped shadow pass behind the slightly-opaque stall curtain. And as I watched the movements, the sound of water would modulate slightly as if a body were blocking a strong spray of liquid. And his clothes are sitting right there, Columbo ... I think it's safe to assume it's him!
Josh's backpack was propped against the first shower inside the wash area. On top of it was a pile of what looked like clean garments ... on the floor sat his boots and discarded dirty clothes. Like a ninja, I stealthily moved forward to stand within reach of Josh's belongings. I dropped down to one knee and actually moved the sweaty pieces of fabric around. Would he notice if his underwear went missing? I pondered. Or those big fluffy socks? ... I bet those smell wonderful.
"Hey, buddy." I froze ... I think my heart skipped a few beats. Josh spoke loudly to be heard over the water. "Are you gonna just watch me from out there or are you gonna get your ass in here and join me?!"
This decision didn't require any conferencing or calling for a vote. By dick was calling all the shots as I quickly undressed and s
tacked my clothes and shoes beside Josh's stuff. Before proceeding, I reached down and located Jason's briefs ... basic "tighty whitey" Y-fronts with some yellow piss stains. I took a quick "hit" of the raunchy scent and replaced them under his shorts. For strength!My tool was actually throbbing as I pulled back the curtain. I wouldn't have thought it possible but Josh looked even more beautiful. His body was tanned to golden perfection, except his groin and ass which were a contrasting creamy white. Damn, I thought, he must run around the woods in his undies! Josh's hair hung in wet strings across his forehead and the nape of his neck. Water ran in tiny cascades down his sculpted chest and abdomen and changed course as they encountered whorls of sexy, dark hair. A mighty waterfall formed off the end of Josh's jutting prick. His legs glimmered with fuzzy hairs. Like I said ... beautiful!
Josh turned to look at me, spitting ribbons of water as he boisterously exhaled. "Sorry about the attitude out there on the driveway," he softly said. "I love spending time with just me and nature, but then my nose tells me I need to go get in touch with civilization. I can get pretty single-minded about it." His eyes dropped and then returned to mine, conveying a definite appreciation for my nude form.
"We're cool," I said casually while inside my blood raced. "But while you're worrying about a 'taste' of civilization, all I want is to get a taste of that dick!" And without waiting for any form of permission, I dropped to my knees on the cold cement lip of the shower and leaned in toward Josh's uncut peter. Josh moved the curtain behind me to shield us from view. On closer inspection, his cock was thicker than I thought and about eight inches in length. Topped with a thick bush, his stick started with a blunt knob that progressed into a coppery column of deliciousness.
"Just beautiful," I muttered as my mouth opened to accept Josh's succulent crown. But just before my lips made contact, strong hands moved me back a few inches. "Smell it," he demanded in a breathy voice.
"What?"
"Sniff my dick ... I want you to remember what my dirty cock smells like." His hands continued to press down on my shoulders, rendering me inert. I craned my neck and extended my head. Josh removed his retraining hands and my nose brushed the side of his fleshy shaft. I took a deep whiff and then lost control as I rooted around his cock and down and around his hairy nuts.
"That's it," he crooned. "Smell every inch of me. Memorize me. Breathe me in."
I continued to inhale deeply as I nuzzled Josh's equipment like a pig at feeding time. After a few moments, I worked my way back to the tip of his cock and plugged several inches of meat down my throat. "Oh, fuuuuccccckkkkk ... FUCK!! ... that feels so damn awesome. It's been months since anyone but me has touched my dick. Can you handle it, buddy?"
I gave Josh a silly "thumbs up" and swirled my tongue forcefully against his warm tool. More and more cock worked in and out of my tight throat as the sexy hiker thrust into me. Luckily, Josh had turned the showerhead toward the back wall. It was much easier to concentrate on giving head when I didn't have the added worry of drowning.
As I continued to nurse on Josh's pole, working my muscles in a series of swallows and constrictions, I played in his wet tufts of pubic hair. I pulled and twisted the dark strands which had Josh dancing in place. With my other hand, I reached back and stroked his ass cheek. It was
taut and fuzzy ... like a large peach. He continued to flex his butt in response to my feathery touch.I was deep into "the suck" when Josh stepped back in the confined space. His cock slipped from my greedy mouth and I missed it instantly. "Oh, man," he huffed. "I love what you're doing to my pecker ... really, I do ... but, well, my hole needs some serious love. Needs it BAD!!"
My dick had been throbbing and leaking for what felt like days. And my knees didn't have to be asked twice to try something new. Using Josh's tight bod for leverage, I climbed to my feet and stood behind him. The stall was barely big enough for two, but the closeness was exhilarating. I was pressed so closely into Josh that I felt his heart flutter and churn. My sensitive nipples raked over the hard angles of his dorsal muscles, sending tiny tingles shooting through my nervous system. And my hard cock was notched up against his lightly-haired butt crack, blazing a trail as it thrust aggressively against yielding warm flesh.
As Josh's ass continued to twitch and flex seductively from the nudging of my engorged prod, I reached around and gave his righteously-rigid cock a few playful tugs. His foreskin and veins were hot like a roaring campfire. I wanted his "roasted marshmallow" goo bad. As I yanked and played in the syrupy wetness, Josh moaned and gasped his approval. Suddenly, Josh pushed his ass back which knocked me against the wall behind me. His hands shot around and he pulled his glutes wide apart. His canyon was pink and populated with dark shorthairs. His anus pulsed tightly. I couldn't stop myself from reverently tracing its rim with a wet finger.
"Smack my hole," he pleaded in a low voice full of pleasure. I quickly complied by thumping two fingers sternly against the fluttering crest. "No," he said more urgently, "smack it ... hit it hard ... it turns me on!" Soon the shower enclosure was ringing with sharp "thwacks" as I repeatedly slapped my hand against Josh's reddening gash.
I was so intent on watching his pucker respond to being "punished" that I physically jumped when a bottle of soft soap came over Josh's left shoulder and rapped me gently in the head. "Get that dick of yours good and sloppy, stud, 'cause I need it NOW!!"
Between the soap, the shower spray which had been adjusted to keep us wet, and my copious amounts of pre-
cum, my spike sliced into Josh's chute like a hot knife through butter. I allowed him a few seconds to adjust to the penetration before I pulled out ... my cockhead covered in lather ... and then rammed my cock back in to the balls."Shhhhhhiiiiiiiittttttt!!! ... pound me, bitch!! Fuck my hole like your life depended on it!" At that moment, my whole life was focused on the fuck. Being slightly taller, I was crouched a bit to allow my dick to angle up and in. Josh was likewise stretched "tall" ... one hand braced against the wall ahead of him ... to let my prick slide deep, banging his prostate on its merry way. Josh shuddered with each stroke and worked his incredible ass muscles to milk my tool from inside. And I could tell by his movements that he was also jerking his own cock vigorously.
On each backstroke, my ass grazed the rough texture of the cement wall, adding yet another sensation to our coupling. I was breathing heavily and concentrating on giving the sexy student and outdoor enthusiast the reaming of his life when Josh tensed and his posture went rigid. I reduced the speed of my thrusts and a few seconds later his right hand lifted to his face. I could see that it was clotted with thick streams of jizz.
Josh moved the hand just below his nose and took in his own most-intimate musk. Then his tongue darted out and snatched a taste. My hands instinctively squeezed Josh's hips as my cock frantically started rabbit-punching his hole. If my dick had its way, we'd need EMTs to ever find it! Soft, sexual noises escaped Josh as I pounded him relentlessly. Then ever so languidly, he reached further back and pressed his slimy hand to my lips. My cock unleashed two bloated nuts
worth of cream up the hiker's battered chute in a series of explosions. We stayed locked together as the water finally faded to cool.It didn't take us long to get dressed. We were alone in the dressing area. Josh was sitting on the wooden bench performing some intricate lacing ritual with his dusty hiking boots while I stood off to the side in a stupor. In the shower, when we had finally disengaged, Josh had touched my face gently and asked if I would wash his hair. It was one of the most sensual moments of my life and the memory haunted me. This man before me was so rugged and handsome ... the kind of man who enjoyed solitude and living off the land ... a studious stud ... a guy I'd probably never see again.
I was startled from my thoughts when Josh shook out his longish hair, sending little comets of liquid spraying off in every direction like a frisky puppy after a bath. I tried to think of something clever to say, but it was Josh who broke the silence by reaching into a pocket on the side of his knapsack and extracting one of the fanciest iPhone models I had ever seen. "Dude," he asked with a grin, "can I get your cell number and an e-mail address? It gets lonely up in the hills. Oh, and what about Facebook?"
Batman, indeed!
HEADLINE: Campgrounds Breed Important Survival Skills
No comments:
Post a Comment