Lost Bay Boys

The Lost Bay Boys by Rio Mack

DISCLAIMER: Contains depictions of gay sex.

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1. ANTICIPATION

As he lies in bed this morning, slowly edging himself to hardness and his first load of the day, Jax's thoughts buzz excitedly, because a few hours from now Robbie, his best bud, will be joining him up here at his family cottage, to stay for two weeks. What a fucking blast they were going to have up here together. The boys' girlfriends are driving Robbie up. The plan is that Janey and Cat will stay with them for this first weekend, but then the girls will drive back early Monday (they both have summer jobs back in the city and were barely able to get this weekend off). Then he'll be alone for two weeks with his bro! His best-ever bro, in fact. The bro, Jax finally had the nerve to admit to himself, he wanted as his first boyfriend.

He'd acknowledged to himself last year, once and for all, that he really was gay -- finally admitting that both his extreme excitement in the bodies of handsome boys and men, and all his j/o fantasies about them (not to mention his extremely limited interest in the bodies of girls and women), added up to his a totally dude-centric sexuality. He'd had lots of opportunities to test the limits of his attraction to girls -- as a top football jock, he's had his pick of hot girls all through middle school and high school, and has gone all the way with quite a few, but for him going all the way' has never been more than going through the motions. It's dudes that get him hard -- with a lust so constant, he knows it's not just some bi-curious' phase he's going through, as he tried to talk himself into believing for the past year or so. And now, certain at last about the life he wants to lead erotically, he feels ready to live it, to come out to his friends and family and start actually acting on his same-sex desires.

He didn't want to keep faking it with girls any more, that shit was over. He wanted to be with boys. Like immediately -- his young gay lust had him horny as fuck for his first taste of cock and ass and muscle. There were so many hot dudes on the team and at school he lusted after, and he was pretty damn sure a good percentage of them had the same desire for dudes as he did.

Especially his bros on the team -- that's where he wanted to finally start seriously cruising dudes. Jax figured that a boy who worked so hard to get his body in a state of erotic masculine perfection, and who loved the intimate physical proximity, in various stages of undress, of other young boys (and older dudes, of course, like their painfully hot, twenty-something, muscle-stud coach) might, like him, be in it for more than just the sport. Jax was horny all the time for the hot boys on his team, and he refused to keep his boy-lust tamped down any longer.

He knew how hot he looked: he had an amazing body, and a seriously impressive cock, perfectly built for m/m action. So it was time to take that sleek, finely-tuned boy-sex machine out for a spin. And the boy he wanted to take his first test-drive with, the boy he was crushing on the hardest, was his best bro, soon to be his houseguest for the next two weeks. So he lay back and stroked, randy as hell, at the thought of two weeks alone in paradise with his totally hot bro.

He loved laying in bed mornings, playing with his long thick dick, getting it hard, edging himself for an hour or so with all sorts of hot, horny fantasies of sex with the hot studs on the team and Coach Daniels. This morning, his lust-dreams are all about his bro: his thick cock swells and stiffens and lengthens as he lazily jacks to thoughts of being in skimpy jockstraps and swimsuits with his hot stud crush -- or hopefully naked all the time, the way Jax was up here at the cottage, cut muscle pumping and thick dick swinging. Up here in this forest paradise. This magical Arden. This Arcadia.

`Welcome to Sherwood, Robbie,' he smiles to himself as he continues to stroke his excited thickness and lightly tickle his big, full ball-sac, letting his fingers trail down his sensitive taint every so often to his circle and tease his tight boy-hole.

Jax's cottage was upstate, in the town of Fair Isle, on a huge body of water, filled with all sorts of bays and small islands, called Flame Lake. Jax's place was tucked into the northern shore of the lake, a place locals called `Lost Bay' -- so named because there's a very rocky narrows formed by two points of land closing in on each other to form a small channel leading out of his bay into the larger lake. The slightness of the channel makes it impossible-looking for a boater to even care to enter. Which made their gorgeous spot on the lake totally secluded. So much so that Jax and his father, when the two of them used to stay up here together all summer, got in the habit of skinny-dipping and tanning nude, enjoying the sun and water in pure, heady delight. Jax loved being naked and free with his dad all summer -- the two of them joined often by his dad's good friend, Keith, who'd come up for weeks at a time, when his mom was back in the city and he and his dad were alone up there, to visit and help them with projects.

Jax's young, muscular body felt in its natural element up here -- awash in the water, aglow in the sun. He always felt like a big cat, stretching out his lithe, muscular body on the dock, luxuriating in the warm sun. And when he went inside, it wasn't even worth even putting on underwear, as any minute he'd itch to be out in that pine-scented, sun-dappled, natural glory. Arcadia, indeed. `Nature Boy,' his dad liked to call him.

The cottage itself was a gem. Flame Lake got its name because of a huge fire that raged there in the early 1800s. But Jax's cottage was in the old-growth part of the woods that bordered the lake, which didn't catch fire, so surrounding the old stone-and-timber four-bedroom cabin was a thick, dense woods of white pine, birch, and maple, blissfully shrouding them in a naturist's Eden. The cabin had been in Jax's father's family for generations. Jax's dad, Brock, had been the sole surviving heir until his insane death in a car crash about two years ago. Now, weirdly enough, because of his dad's will, it was Jax's place. He supposed he could sell it and pocket a cool million (estimates have gone as high as 1.4 million), but right now a high-schooler like Jax, living comfortably with his mother, didn't need money. Besides, he couldn't imagine selling something so precious, so much a part of his history. It would be like selling off his father's memory.

The cabin itself was a beautiful old building, nicely appointed throughout -- gorgeous knotty pine lined most of the cottage spaces, which included a vintage kitchen/dining area, four very cozy bedrooms, his dad's den, a full bath, and the best feature -- a beautifully furnished, lodge-style living room full of overstuffed leather couches and chairs, a huge stone fireplace, and a wall of mostly windows and a French door, looking out on a stunning view of the lake. Jax and his dad (and Keith, of course) had modernized the kitchen and bath several years back, so the place was wonderfully livable. But what Jax loved best about their spot on the lake, where he always stayed when he was up there, was the boathouse. His dad had always thought the cottage should have a big boathouse, one in keeping with the old-timey style of the place, to house their watercraft: the beautiful old 1950 Chris Craft motor launch, as well as a 1940s 30 foot racing yacht Jax and his dad loved to sail every summer, plus a couple of Jet Skis Brock had bought to race around on.

So the summer Jax was 11, Keith came up for a three-week stay with him and his dad, and the three of them had put in the footings and the cribs for the slips. The next summer they framed the place and roughed it in. The following summer, when Jax was 13, it was finished. Downstairs there were four slips, plus a galley kitchen and a washer/drier. Upstairs was the living quarters: a big bedroom (the one Jax always used when he was up there), a living room (with a convertible sofa that let it double as a guest bedroom), and a really nice wood and fieldstone bathroom with a huge walk-in shower in which at least 3 men could shower comfortably (Jax knew this from experience because the past couple of summers after it was finished, Jax and his father and Keith always used to shower together there when they were done working outside or romping in the water). Jax's room had a wall of French windows and doors on two sides, the sides facing the lake, so there was wonderful light and air throughout the day, a gorgeous lake view, and then the stars at night, along with any lights on the shore or water, plus cool evening breezes of the lake. One wall led into the bathroom, and the other wall, near Jax's huge king-sized bed, was all mirrored. The mirrored wall was his dad's idea -- he'd mirrored the wall of the bedroom in the cottage that doubled as his home gym, so he could perfect his workout form in front of it. Jax used the expanse of mirror in the boathouse bedroom for that same purpose. Plus, he loved the way the sun rising over the lake was reflected in that huge expanse of mirror each morning, coating his room in a thick, honey-gold glow.

And he wasn't ashamed to admit another benefit of that huge expanse of mirror: he loved ogling the reflection of his beautifully chiseled body as he jacked his cock a couple times a day. He knew how fine he looked, how much all the effort he'd put into weight training and cardio had paid off. He poses, naked, in front of that mirror, or the mirror in the bathroom, all the time, checking out his classic all-American jock looks, worshipping his carved muscle, slowly jacking to the young, big-dicked stud reflected back at him. His muscles -- hard, bulging, perfectly sculpted -- are impressive, he knows, but his cock, he thinks, is incredible. His father's genes blessed him with a huge, almost-beer-can-thick, man-cock: big, hefty, uncut shaft; sexy, delicious-looking veins snaking all over it; and a thick hood of foreskin covering almost all the head, letting just a tempting little glimpse of tip show, beckoning any hot dude's tongue to taste and tease.

He'd been up here by himself since school let out, mostly running and stretching and lifting every day, so he's more ripped than he's ever been. Plus, from being nude in the sun so much, the whole stunning package is bronzed with an all-over tan he thinks looks so damn sexy when he poses and flexes or lifts in front of the mirror.

So, exquisitely carved jock muscle, now beautifully golden, and that thick, dangling, uncut beauty of a cock, all meaty and fulsome, flopping down between his legs; the whole dick-hardening package on full view 24/7 as he romps around nude in this sylvan paradise -- Jax has to think this might finally be the time his hot bro rises to the bait.

Both he and Robbie are 17 and will be seniors in the fall. Senior studs on the football team. And fuck do they look the part: Robbie is about fifteen pounds lighter, seriously lean and cut, nothing but prime, choice beef, with a ripped upper body tapering into a sexy V and an 8-pack that Jax wants to run his tongue and hands all over every time he sees it. Plus a smooth, round, solid, absolutely perfect ass that holds Jax's eyes like a magnet in the showers.

Jax's own ripped bulk is the kind of muscle he needs to play middle linebacker (his strength means he can bring down most dudes even on the run, plus he's not that large that he's sacrificed any speed, so he can blitz a quarterback better than any high school player he's seen). Robbie, though, is d-back lean and hard; seriously cut muscle, like hard, solid stone, but sleek and smooth -- just the kind of build Jax loves to stroke to on his college-jock porn site. Plus, his bro is drop-dead, male model handsome, with scruffy blonde hair, lean jaw, and those icy-blue eyes. Flat-out the sexiest-looking dude Jax has ever seen in the flesh. Sexier, even, than his father or Keith or Coach Daniels -- Jax's previous pantheon of male perfection.

And both boys have big dicks, which are going to look so hot swinging and dangling as they traipse around butt-naked up here for the next two weeks. Both he and Robbie pack real man-cocks, two of the biggest on the team, easily; both over six inches soft (Jax is over 8 hard) and nice and thick (Jax probably has a half-inch or so of girth on Robbie). Robbie's cock is an uncut beauty with a thin foreskin sheath that nipples about a half-inch or so over the tip, letting the mouth-watering outline of his cock-head show through, a dick that goes perfect with his lean, sinewy, lanky body.

Jax can hardly wait to see his bro bare-assed for two whole weeks. Jax loves the free, natural feeling of going without clothes, and he loves flaunting his superbly worked muscle, along with that thick, veiny cock and big, droopy sac. And, thinking back on all those summers with his dad and Keith -- as well as the pleasure he always takes in locker rooms, surrounded by other fit, nude boys -- he knows how much he loves seeing another dude's hard muscle and floppy dick. He's sure Robbie will be cool being nude -- they always almost immediately strip their shirts off when they hang-out together, and then their pants not long after, so Robbie's going to love taking it to the next level, chilling nude 24/7 and getting a sexy, all-over tan.

Jax has always had a real sense of pride in the cottage, a sense of totally belonging, ever since he can remember. So it does feel like it's his property now: not just because it was left to him in his dad's will, but his mom never comes up at all any more (too many memories of his dad, probably). But then she never really came up here all that much, even when his dad was alive. His dad would always head up to the lake as early as possible in his Karman Ghia convertible -- late May or early June at the latest -- and open the cottage, then start his cottage routine: alternating between an intense fitness regimen, water fun, and the never-ending maintenance a vacation home required. His mother would drive up with Jax later in the summer, when school let out. She'd stay only a week, and then Jax would stay up there with his dad the rest of the summer. His dad was a self-employed contractor, so he could work when he chose. It was no wonder his mother didn't relish their vacation home as much as Jax and his dad. The cottage, tucked away on the remotest, most wilderness-heavy part of the lake, really was a man's element -- not just the intense athletic play he and his dad favored, but add in all the upkeep and repair and remodeling required, and it could be back-breaking, but Jack and Brock loved it.

His mother loved her husband, of course, and was only too happy Brock's family cottage afforded him a place to indulge that simpler, rustic need in him, but she herself never cared much for the outdoors or the cottage lifestyle. She hated to leave the city, its pace and all her friends there, even for a week. What Jax loved about his mom's lack of interest in spending time at the cabin was that it gave his dad this magical, private place where he could love his son alone, in his own intense, amazing way.

His dad was awesome -- so damn good-looking, with a perfect, thirty-something jock body. Everyone always said Jax was the spitting image of his father, and if that was true, Jax was a hell of a good-looking 17 year old. Brock achieved his amazing physique from a combination of his years of high school and college wrestling, a strenuous contracting job (summers during college, then as his full-time profession when he graduated), his constant working around the house and yard and cottage, and his religious devotion to exercise. That's another thing Jax inherited from his father, a zealous dedication to fitness -- he'd started exercising with his dad ever since he could remember, then his father got him on a serious program of weights and cardio when he was 12, so after five years of focus and dedication Jax looked absolutely amazing -- a 17 year old high school football Adonis whose coach was begging him to start entering amateur body building competitions.

And Jax got his dad's mechanical know-how, too. Jax's dad could do anything up here at the cottage -- building boathouses, clearing brush, plumbing and roofing, repairing docks, working on boats, you name it. Jax always followed his dad around like a puppy, and his father taught him everything about what he'd be doing, so now Jax can do just about anything up here, too. And thanks to his dad's training, he was effortlessly skilled at the fun part of cottage life, too: sailing, swimming, diving, canoeing, and water skiing.

This summer marks Jax's second year alone at the cottage since his dad passed. He didn't go at all the summer he was fifteen, after his dad died. He was too devastated. Then last year, he thought being up here by himself would let him really connect with the spirit of his dad. It did, but the all the many golden memories of their times together at the lake that came rushing back to him were tainted with an enormous sense of loss -- missing his dad was worse up here because here is where he missed him most.

But, in the past two years, he's worked through his grief at his dad's passing, and now he welcomes all those sweet, wondrous scenes from his childhood and adolescence at the lake. They weren't exactly painless now, but their rich charm made them powerfully poignant and bittersweet, easily outweighing the pain, making a treasure-trove of glorious memories he can call up at will and sweetly savor, a virtual photo album he can leaf through over and over, always enchanted.

The two of them spent so much time alone together up here, plus his father was young when Jax's mother got pregnant, so with their closeness in age as well as their tight relationship, it almost felt to Jax like Brock was his older brother. Brock schooled him the way a big brother role-model should, teaching him how to be a man.

Looking back on it, Jax wondered if the ten, eleven, twelve year old him realized back then how special were those fantasy summers he spent up here in Sherwood with his dad. Naked all the time, running, lifting, stretching, horsing around in the water, swimming, skiing, tanning on the dock. As soon as he was able to pump serious iron, Jax loved working out with his dad, then showering together afterwards. Brock always worked out up here naked, so Jax worked out nude, too. It was amazing watching that beautifully cut, fur-dusted body, with just the right amount of carved bulk, lift and stretch and pump without even a jock. And seeing his dad's firm-muscled ass and long thick uncut length just seemed totally natural. So did being nude himself. He was so proud when his dad, after studying his body as they worked out, would compliment his ongoing effort to sculpt a body even half as good as his fitness-model icon of a father. "Truth shows best being naked," his dad always used to say as he'd nod his approval at how nicely his boy was toning muscle, which Jax always took to mean, if you want to see how good your training is, you have to study yourself nude. And so he always has. Constantly.

Then, after their workouts, they would wash each other's bodies under the shower-spray for a long time, all over, everywhere, which Jax loved. For years, Jax felt there was nothing really sexual in the way they'd soap up each other's cock and ass and muscle, just joy in each other's male perfection, which they'd constantly compliment. It always felt so natural to Jax, handling another man's big, full cock, and having his own handled as well. It was wonderful to learn at a young age the sheer beauty of a dude's dick -- that long, thick shaft and big, full sac, learning how to stretch and skin back a foreskin (he'd always playfully tease his dad's, as his father would his) or fingering under the skin to get it fully clean. It always thrilled Jax when he and his dad would soap their dicks and balls so much, and play with cock-heads and piss-slits and foreskins that they'd both get rock-hard.

When Jax turned 12, and his cock became noticeably longer and thicker, and his ball-sac began drooping low, his dad taught him a cool game he and his buds on the wrestling team used to play when they'd wash each other's bodies. The game was, when you were washing your shower buddy's dick, to see who could get their buddy's dick fully hard the fastest. The winner got to jack both their cocks together until they came. His dad explained how, besides being so damn pleasurable, jacking with a bro was beneficial -- it was important for a young jock to cum as often as he could; it stimulated testosterone, which helped muscle development (his dad always made sure there was a fresh supply of porn mags in the boathouse bathroom, so his son could stroke as often as he needed). Jacking with a bro , his dad taught him, was just a fun supplement to a boy's own masturbation, or what his girlfriend would do, when he got one. Jax often wondered, when he started playing team sports at school, why none of the other boys knew about great games like that, but he was always too shy to suggest them.

Jax loved those showers with his dad. And of course those times when Keith joined them in their jack-off game, and they'd take turns as to who would wash whom. Keith took to the game with as much excited pleasure as Jax did. As a horny young dude, Jax was usually the first one to get hard, and then he always loved the feeling of his dad or Keith jacking their dick together with his to climax, while the other older guy would watch them and jack along, too. Just like he'd watch and jack excitedly when it was his dad or Keith stroking both their huge hard dicks together in their huge, manly hands. That was classic Sherwood Forest play for Jax. Damn, how he missed the pleasures of their all-male eden. Then the wet muscle-boys would dry each other off afterwards (always a little towel-snapping and ass-grabbing, of course). Jax loved how his dad was never in a rush to get underwear on or jeans or anything after their showers. They'd stay naked and comfortable as long as they liked.

And all their horseplay in the water, the sailing, the swimming, the float races, the waterskiing -- his mom almost never came in the water, except maybe to wade along the shore a few times. For the week that his mother stayed with them, they compromised and wore a swimsuit in the lake (always a Speedo, so not that much of a compromise -- his dad looked awesome in his skimpy trunks, his big thick cock barely contained by that small scrap of nylon). But when his mother was gone, skinny-dipping was the rule.

And all the hours spent naked, tanning on the dock with his dad, or laying out bare-assed with him on their short stretch of white sand beach -- Brock refused to compromise on tanning nude, no matter how mortified his mother was at seeing her men naked in public. Jax and his dad relished their time together naked in paradise, admiring each other's firm, cut, beautifully bronzed bodies. So did Keith, who loved being naked with them whenever he visited them (which was never when his mom was up).

Here, at the lake, surrounded by a pristine forest of white pine, birch, and maple, was about as close to Arcadia as you could get. Ever since he could remember, before he was even into thinking of dudes sexually all the time, he'd thought of their place here on the lake, in this huge stretch of primitive woods, as an all-male Sherwood Forest. He knew why: his dad had got him a beautifully illustrated edition of the Robin Hood tales for his ninth birthday, and Jax read and re-read those stories all the time, and acted them out. He especially loved the gorgeous old illustration of the handsome, virile Merry Men, dressed in those incredible outfits (nine year-old Jax didn't think to call those pictures sexy,' but twelve year-old Jax sure did). Then, seeing how much his son loved that book, Brock bought him a copy of the Classics Illustrated Robin Hood' comic (more pre-pubescent porn, as Jax later realized). Then he got them the Errol Flynn `Robin Hood' DVD, which they watched together all the time. Robin and his Band were Jax's first super-heroes, and the cottage became the perfect setting for his endless Sherwood Forest fantasy role-playing adventures.

It totally felt like Sherwood the times during the summer when Keith joined them, the three of them always nude, carefree, and playful, a merry little band of robust masculinity, naked and muscular and lusty in their secret, all-male setting. In Jax's fantasy, Brock was Robin, of course, the alpha-stud supreme. Keith was the handsome, mysterious, muscular Alan-a-Dale, who just roamed into the forest one day (it seemed to Jax) and became Robin's most intimate friend. Jax was Will Scarlet, Robin's handsome, hunky young nephew. His dad and Keith always humored Jax when he wanted to play Sherwood. They'd take turns battling' on the floating raft or having archery contests' with super-soakers or swinging into the deep part of the lake from a long rope his dad had rigged in one of the pines. A masculine paradise, with those gloriously naked, hard-muscled bodies gleaming in the sun and water. Those were the best days of Jax's life.

How often -- as he reached puberty -- he'd lie in bed at night or in the morning, letting his mind play out all sorts of dreamy fantasies, in which incredibly built, totally handsome, big-dicked, super-sexy rogues had all sorts of adventures, naked and sexy together, in the water, or in a tent on shore, or on the beach, their huge cocks and hard muscle gleaming in the sun of his lust-fevered imagination. He even invented a race of mermen to add to his Arden Mix, beautiful sea-studs who would frolic sexually in the water with his merry band of muscle-hunks. He'd lie in bed and let his young gay fantasies run wild, stroking himself to incredible orgasms. Looking back on those sexual fantasies of his youth, he realizes now how his adolescent libido would get fired up from a day of naked play with his gorgeous father and their hot friend (`Uncle Keith,' he always called him, laughing about that now). He'd ogle their hot muscle throughout the day, check out the porn mags his dad left in the bathroom (always featuring hot couples having sex, and so Jax could focus on the hot naked men, getting aroused by cock and muscle), then lie in bed later, fantasizing his dream-studs at play, getting hard as hell, and shooting loads of boy-cum all over his bed and body.

He loved seeing his dad's body growing up. It was one of the first clues, as he looks back on it, that he was sexually attracted to men -- the way he so deeply eroticized that gorgeous, stud-physique of his dad's, all hard muscle, furry ass, and thick cock. That's certainly what helped fan the spark of his same-sex desire early on, along with his Robin Hood books, his dad's books on Greek art, and the gorgeously drawn super hero comics he'd pore over, with incredibly cut studs in sexy costumes. Then, once those sparks flamed into the full fire of gay passion, sneaking his dad's fitness mags, so he could stare wide-eyed at pictures of hot, cut muscle-studs for hours on end. The first time he actually beat off to porn was when he started jacking uncontrollably to the photo-spread of a particularly sexy stud -- modeling jock straps -- in one of his dad's muscle mags. He can still close his eyes and picture the handsome blonde model's hard cut muscle, the huge bulging pouches which let Jax trace the exact shape of the awesome cock outlined under the mesh, and the smooth, firm ass framed by the jock's sexy straps.

Then there was Keith's body, of course, who was younger than his father, and just as well-built (and just as well-hung, as he'd excitedly see when they were all nude together). Then came his powerful attraction to his coaches and team-mates and friends. Then he discovered actual gay porn, the much more potent m/m version of the m/f stuff his dad would leave for him in the john. He was probably about eleven or twelve when he first suspected he might like boys and not girls. Thirteen when he discovered gay porn and became instantly addicted to it. This was the time when, for Jax, the mutual stroking of his shower-play with his dad and Keith became incredibly erotic, incredibly satisfying -- but he never told his father or Keith how much sexual pleasure he began to derive from the way they'd jack each other -- it always seemed like harmless `boys will be boys' fun for the two older men.

And now, at seventeen, it was time to start being gay, for fuck's sake, and stop hiding it. He knew he was going to love being out and flirty and very active. He's always been horny as fuck, and now he can't wait to finally start satisfying his true needs -- for cock, muscle, ass, and sexy jock beauty. He's almost as excited to kiss and make out with another hot boy as he is to suck and fuck. Well, almost.

And now, here comes Robbie, for two weeks of sun and spray and hot naked boy-flesh. It was like the gods were giving him the perfect gift for the perfect time in his life. The perfect hot boy in the perfect setting to finally start to practice his m/m seduction skills on. Robbie, the perfect addition to his ongoing homoerotic cottage fantasy. Who would maybe (he hoped) make that fantasy, finally, a reality. Real-Life Sherwood. That would be amazing. In just the one year (less actually, because the first time he'd met Robbie was when the boy transferred to Jax's school last fall, joining him on the football team), he's become Jax's current best friend, maybe his best friend ever. His friendship for his bro was warm, strong, and loving, his desire for him sexually was fierce, raw, unbearable.

Jax was too horny to scheme very carefully how he would try to get a straight dude like Robbie interested in boy-sex. His vaguely formed seduction strategy was basically to be naked with his jock-stud bud as much as possible in this sylvan paradise and see what happened. Two bare-assed, hot-muscled, big-dicked, horny young jocks, alone together in the erotic splendor of Sherwood? Jax knew exactly how that m/m fantasy played out -- he'd been jacking to some variant of it for the past four years. Jax was betting even the straightest dude might get a little curious and want to get his gay on in a setting like this -- secluded woods, crystal-clear lake, and days spent baking nude under a hot, steamy, sun, in flesh-close proximity to a gorgeous, big-dicked muscle-jock.

Jax's cock was rock-hard now as he lay in bed, stroking to the thought of being naked all the time with his stud friend, watching those lean muscles ripple, that thick cock dangle, and that firm-muscle ass flex and shimmy. And something told him Robbie, with that smoking hot body of his, would be down for it, too. His dad's bud, Keith, sure was. It was always so cool frolicking in the water, nude, the three of them, or Jax lying on the dock, watching those gorgeous scenes of robust, athletic man-play, as his dad and Keith frisked together, romping like two big dogs, playing roughly, excitedly with each other. Then, afterwards, always the three of them showering together. Yeah, Robbie's gonna dig the shit out of being bare-assed all the time.

It's going to remind Jax of those books of his father's he used to sneak off the bookshelf and study in his room at night, feeling his young cock gradually harden to the homoerotic imagery. They were expensive coffee table books on Classical Greek Art, showing illustrations of the paintings on the sides of Greek vases and urns and drinking bowls, or beautifully sculpted Greek statues, all showing the Greek ideal of the beautiful, muscular, young man. He especially loved the Grecian urn paintings because they were so damn sexy: muscular young warriors holding spears or wrestling or running or just lounging around together or being chased by older satyrs: all the muscular young dudes painted with small, pretty, uncut cocks, and the satyrs chasing the athletic young studs with stiff, jutting, much bigger cocks, hard and ready for action with the beautiful boys.

Jax would turn page after page and fantasize all sorts of wild, same-sex revels. The young muscled youth was the ideal of beauty, his dad often reminded him when they were working out together, and Jax could sure see that in the art of classical antiquity (where you only saw the female figure in maybe one percent of Grecian art). Jax knows those paintings had a big influence on getting him to love hanging around nude all the time: those super-fit dudes were always naked, proud to flaunt cut muscle and uncut dick. It was only the older dudes, the ones with beards (as opposed to the smooth-shaven young Greek hotties) who covered their nudity with a sheet. Jax and Robbie were way young and hot as fuck. Jax's cock pulsed and throbbed as he thought of Robbie and him as beautiful, young Greek studs, romping around nude up here.

And even those few times a horny muscle-teen had to wear actual clothes up here, when they went to town, Robbie would look hot. His bro loved wearing too-tight T's and low-riding denim that hugged his thighs and ass perfectly, showing off a big, tasty-looking bulge in front. It would be cool dressing sexy and going into town with Robbie. The towns were always full of hot boys having all the fun a resort town on a lake offers, most often bare-chested or in sexy Ts or wife-beaters, showing off tight, buff bodies, in jeans or board shorts or mesh shorts. Some in Speedos, drops of moisture beading up on tan, cut muscle, taking a break for a cold drink after romping in the waterfall in the center of town or diving off the road bridge into the deep reservoir. Yep, trips to town were always exciting, being able to ogle a host of hot boys, either sexy, roughneck townies, or jock studs on vacation, all trying hard to look their sexiest.

Before he'd even admitted to himself he was into dudes sexually, Jax was into dudes physically. Totally into fitness himself, he could really appreciate another beautifully muscled male physique. His father had taught him to appreciate his body, to get it cut and sexy, to love getting bigger, firmer, stronger, harder. At seventeen he had a better physique than dudes in college, he knew, from studying all the hot, sexy, college jocks up here on vacation. Jax got tons of stares -- from girls, sure, and women, too. But he was most excited, of course, by the stares he got from other hot dudes, guys he'd watch scope him out for a long time, impressed at his rippling muscles and carved washboard. He knew guys were the best judge of another hot dude, and so he took their envious looks as proof he looked as hot as he thought. It was so damn sexy, being able to flaunt a hot muscle body to other dudes. He'd been muscle-cruising for years, even before he knew what it was. Flaunting hot muscle gave Jax an incredible rush, got him thick and hard all the time.

So Jax was super-amped to see how things went flaunting hard, cut muscle and thick, jock cock twenty-four-seven with his bud. There was an outside chance Jax was wrong about his hunch, that this would be a tipping point in their friendship, that trying to push it to sexual intimacy would prove a disaster. Because Robbie has always seemed unquestionably straight to Jax, without a doubt, no matter how much he seemed to like chilling in underwear during their sleepovers. He and his bud both had steady girls, after all, even though Jax knew he had to admit to Janey sometime very soon that he was gay (maybe while she was up here this weekend?). But Jax felt sure Janey must sense it, their sex together is that bad. Jax is sure he's giving off probably not even subtle vibes about how un-into girls he is, how much the sex he wants involves cock and ass. But Jax has seen Robbie having sex with Cat enough to know how seriously into pussy the dude was.

But even though Robbie was unquestionably straight, he had this exciting edge to him, a kind of misterioso quality, the air of a true rebel, down for whatever. Almost from the first time they started hanging together last fall, Jax had thought of his bro as `Puck.' Jax's dad had got him seriously into British Lit, not just kids' stuff like Robin Hood and King Arthur, so he knew about the bold, sexy, mischievous sprite in Shakespeare's play. And maybe it was wishful thinking on Jax's part, but even though Robbie was a total horn-dog for girls, he still gave off a kind of sexually-fluid vibe -- like Puck did -- of being into any sort of hot sex.

Not just Puck, but a definite Sherwood vibe to Robbie, and so for the past couple months, right after he got the word from his bro that he could spend extended time together at the cottage with him this summer, he'd worked Robbie into his go-to stroke fantasy, jacking to a forest full of hot, hunky, woodland studs, an all-male, medieval sausage party in the deep, secluded woods. He'd lay back dreamily in his bed and stroke his thick, uncut length to exquisite hardness, imagining Robbie and him and the other hot dudes from the team, naked and totally horned up, in an enchanted Arcadian glade, with Robin Hood, who was always played by their team's hot, twenty-something assistant coach, lustily leading them all in a riotous, cum-drenched stag-orgy. So for two weeks it's going to be `Puck Does Sherwood,' starring two hot teen muscle-jocks, naked and athletic, romping together alone and horny, in the heady intimacy of a secluded forest paradise.

And the visit starts today. The living arrangements for the weekend are for Janey and Cat to stay together in the cottage, while Robbie and he would share the boathouse. Janey and Cat had to promise their folks they wouldn't be spending the night in the same bed with their boyfriends, that they'd have separate bedrooms. But they'd still be having sex though, the girls had assured them. Especially, they added, with naughty smiles, the four of them together, which really got Jax hard, as he lay back in bed, thinking about that wonderful recent development in his relationship with his bro, the hot group sex the four of them had started having.

One night in early spring, they'd double dated, as they often did, but this time, instead of Cat and Robbie heading off after the date, they all wound up together at Cat's house. Her parents were away for the weekend. They smoked some really potent weed Jax had, snuck a few of Cat's father's beers, and before they knew it, they were all naked on Cat's bedroom floor together, making out with their respective partners. It was easily the hardest he'd even been with Janey, because, while he went through the motions of sex with her, he was able to watch that beautifully lean, beautifully muscled, beautifully hung, beautifully nude body of Robbie's writhe and ripple as Cat sucked his cock, fingered him, then straddled his dick.

Janey was impressed at how into the sex Jax was that night, moreso than ever, she noted. Jax wondered if she suspected it was because watching Robbie's naked cock and muscle, on full glorious display in a live sex show right there in front of him, was such a turn-on for him. As he pounded Janey's pussy, in his mind he was virtual-fucking Robbie's smooth, round, tantalizingly perfect butt, pumping in rhythm to match his own thrusts. He even stayed hard after they fucked because there was Robbie, naked and looking so damn hot, his nice thick cock flopping against that cut washboard as he and Cat chilled, and Jax kept imagining reaching over and jacking that dick or sucking on it, letting his hands worship that hot body, kissing his handsome bro with smoldering boy-lust.

After that weekend, on any given Friday or Saturday night, more often than not they'd wind up naked together at someone's house. A lot of the time their bi GFs would want to fool around by themselves, sharing the lipstick as they kissed or played with their tits or ate one another out, and Jax and Robbie were left to sit on a bed or floor or couch and stroke to girl-on-girl action. Though consumed with an almost explosive longing, Jax was always too nervous to reach out and stroke his bro's cock, or pull him into a hot embrace. He didn't want to lose his best friend for letting him see how hot for boys he was.

But he was much bolder now, and he'd made up his mind that this time, when they all got naked later tonight and started foreplay, he'd make it clear to Robbie he wanted to take their friendship to a sexy new level, and hopefully it would turn out that Robbie would be only too receptive. Jax was rock-hard and oozing precum now in anticipation.

Maybe Jax would even be bold enough to bring out his porn stash one day -- it was all gay shit, but maybe he'd get the vibe that a sexy bad-boy type like his bro could get into it (if he wasn't already). Stroking to smoking hot gay porn with another `straight' dude would definitely let Robbie channel his inner Puck.

Jax spends probably too much time on gay porn sites. But since his girlfriend is a dud in bed, and he's always horny as hell, he has to jack to get himself off, and he'd learned long ago that hot gay muscle-porn sites, an endless stream of gorgeous dudes -- all hard bodies and hot cocks, just the way Jax likes his dudes -- was his porn of choice. He also checks out a few X-rated men's underwear sites, with total studs modeling the hottest jockstraps and briefs and swimsuits. Some even have videos featuring gay porn stars modeling the sexy drawers. Plus, he's joined a couple of gay chat-room sites where users post the hottest clips and pix and have graphic discussions of the hot m/m sex they're having. And he has both a Tumblr & Twitter account, under a fake name, where he follows the sexiest gay muscle and porn feeds.

But truth to tell, one of his go-to j/o clips is actually a vid he took himself. One day last month, during a sleep-over, Robbie and he took videos of each other lifting weights, and then spent the night critiquing each other's form. They often lifted together when they stopped by each other's house after school, or got together on the weekends or for sleep-overs. And they always lifted in just a jock, of course. It's what dudes are meant to lift in, so you can see as much muscle as possible. It's especially important, both he and Robbie felt, to keep the glutes exposed -- a tough muscle to work, so you wanted to see if you were doing the most efficient pump.

That was an amazing night, filming each other and then studying it together later, figuring out what they were doing right and wrong. He definitely spotted bad hand-grips on a couple exercises, plus Robbie pointed out how Jax didn't keep his back straight on squats, so he wasn't focusing the lift on the hips the way you're supposed to for maximum effect. That one tip alone was worth it.

But one night, alone and horny as fuck, he was about to click on one of the gay porn clips he has stored on his phone, when he noticed the vid of Robbie lifting was still saved. So he played it. And fuck, as embarrassing as it might be, he was hard in no time. Robbie lifting, that gorgeous ass, his beautifully muscled, beautifully smooth body, in just a skimpy, sweat-drenched jock, pouch shrunk-wrapped over his big-ass cock, muscles pumping and flexing, with such a sexy red flush on his handsome face from lifting. Fuck, Jax shot an incredible load in almost no time.

He must have jacked to that clip about fifteen more times the past month. He's definitely decided he's going to see if Robbie is down for filming more of their work-out sessions while he's up here. Especially now that they'll be lifting nude, as Jax always does at the cottage.

So Jax's beautifully muscled young jock body is sprawled on his bed that morning, fantasizing about being naked with his sexy, handsome, muscle-hunk bro. He tweaks his hard nips and jostles his big floppy ball-sac sensually, feeling his boy-cream start to churn, edging himself to an outrageous hard-on. Then he strokes his long. thick, steel-hard shaft up and down, loving the feel of a big, stiff cock in his hand. Fuck, was he ever close!

He plays with his big nut-sac, then gets a finger coated with saliva (pretending he was sucking Robbie's cock) and begins to tease his pucker, thinking about being naked up here with Robbie, watching his bro's long, sweet cock droop and sway and dangle. Tanning naked together on the dock. Jax was totally looking forward to putting sunscreen on his bare-assed bro. That would be amazing! Gliding slick hands all over that lean, smooth, beautifully carved muscle, spending a lot of time on Robbie's ass, trying to edge his fingers closer and closer to that luscious crack. That round, firm, delicious ass of Robbie's he always drools over in the shower after practice. Mmmmmm, running his hands over those ripe mounds all he wants, getting hard as fuck just feeling that ripe, luscious ass.

Jax has three thick fingers in his ass now, rubbing his p-spot, getting his cock super-hard. One of his hands plays over his chest again, pinching his nips feverishly as he thinks about rubbing Robbie's ass with lotion, letting his hands glide into that smooth crack, bending close so Robbie can feel his hard, wet cock brush against that perfect ass. Then he might just test the waters by letting his slicked-up finger tease Robbie's tight pucker. If Robbie doesn't say anything, or moans in pleasure, Jax will go further and start to tease open that hole, letting his finger pleasure his bro's tight ass, getting a sweet, slow, sensual motion going, opening that tight pucker, so he could really finger-bang his sexy bud. Then, after fucking his sexy bro with two or three fingers, hearing Robbie moan in pleasure, he'd bring his cockhead to Robbie's hole and paint that luscious crack with his jock honey.

FUCK! Jax's balls tighten, his abs clench, and load after load of thick, creamy jizz comes spurting out of his thick, achingly hard cock. When he gets his breath back from an incredible orgasm, he falls back against his pillows, fingering up a gob of boy-cream off his abs, and savoring it, along with the delicious thought of being naked all the time with his sexy-ass bro for two fucking weeks.

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