Pauls Pants

Paul's Pants episode 5c, Into the woods

This is the third part of the school camping saga, sorry if the numbering is getting confusing. Usual story; comments, requests, or insults to; spasm2[at]mailandnews.com. The final episode is to follow.

After supper that evening, and before the inexorable session of uplifting songs and prayer began, our team leader stood up and tapping his water glass to get our attention, announced; `Right you horrible lot, as you know, tomorrow we're going to start our orienteering exercise. You've all been divided into pairs, and as a team you will have to work together to complete the task. Ok, this is how it's going to work; although it's not a race, you have until Wednesday lunchtime to get back here. Each team will be taken off and left somewhere in Cumbria, you'll have a map reference of where you are, a reference for here, and a good mapping compass. It is up to you to plan your route back, and to organise your trip. One of you will be carrying a tent, and you'll have enough food to last the two days. Now, any questions?'

Inevitably there was an excited babble as all the boys started to ask questions at the same time, I just listened, figuring that I'd find out more that way. Finally, the flood of questions ground to a halt and we were taken off into our prayer session.

I didn't sleep well that night, the image of Paul's newly shaven cock was uppermost in my mind, and if I hadn't blown my load all over him already that morning I would have been waking up in sticky sheets. As it was, I stayed stiff and hard for most of the night.

It was something of a relief to be woken next day and realise that at last our adventure was going to start. Although we had little experience of camping, we had all practised erecting our two man tents the day before, and had been lectured interminably about the necessity of travelling light. Once I came to pick up the tent I began to realise why, these were state of the art for the 1970's but compared to the modern pocket handkerchiefs, there was still quite a bit of weight to them. We were not to be among the first group to be taken off and dumped somewhere, and so I had been able to sort my clothes out quite carefully. A discreet return visit to the lost clothes bin had yielded a few more possible items, including some camouflage patterned y fronts which I thought might prove interesting.

I had dressed carefully; loose shorts, a thick long sleeved shirt and hiking boots, and for luck, I wore the skimpy blue nylon slip that Paul had picked out for me, even though nylon probably wasn't that sensible for walking in. However, I reckoned that there was a very good chance that I wouldn't be keeping them on for very long.

I hadn't seen Paul at all since breakfast; when he had slobbed in wearing saggy old track suit bottoms and an old t shirt. `How's it feeling?' I asked, when I finally got near to him.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and hoiked his tracky bottoms tight up against his crotch, even before he answered, it was evident that he wasn't wearing any pants, and I could see the stiff outline of his erect cock alongside his thigh. Feels great, really sexy,' he whispered, mindful of the room full of eavesdroppers, a bit chilly though.'

`You'll get used to it, and I'm sure we can think of a way to warm you up.'

`Yeah, I bet we can.'

`Hadn't you better get ready? Or are you coming as you are?'

No, it's just the way my trousers hang,' he giggled, I'm just off to get ready now, I'll meet you in the car park in half an hour.'

`Don't forget to bring a change of underwear,' I said, stating the bleeding obvious.

`Of course not, what do you take me for?' with that he bundled out of the room.

I already had my backpack ready, not that I had much room for stuff with the tent to carry, but a change of clothes and some washing stuff didn't take up much room, and of course I had my camera and a few pairs of pants. Paul had to carry the food and stuff, on balance he was carrying a lighter load, but then he was smaller and lighter than me. I carted my stuff out to the car park; even though there was a light drizzle falling it was still warm. I was glad I had a kagool, although I wasn't about to put it on. There was a small group of boys waiting at the bus shelter; although the centre's minibus was nowhere to be seen, presumably as it was still returning from its previous mission. We stood about chatting amiably and to no particular purpose for a few minutes, until I gradually realised that the chatter was fading away, and their attention was focussing back over my shoulder down the path towards the huts. The smirks on their faces might have given it away, but anyway, when I turned round I was treated to the spectacle of Paul in full-on hiking mode. From the top down; he had on his dreadful woolly hat and somewhat dwarfed by his backpack; he was wearing a full blown scouts uniform. It was obvious that he hadn't worn it for some time, as the short blue shorts were rather tight, not to say verging on the obscene. His crotch bulged quite impressively and rather obviously, and it really was just as well that he wasn't too excited.

`What?' he demanded aggressively, spotting the grins.

I didn't know you'd been a scout, Paul,' I interjected before anyone else could speak, you've got a lot of badges.'

`Yeah, I'd given it up, but I reckon we'll survive, only thing is, I'm a lousy cook.'

`Not a problem, we've got sausages, bacon and bread, what can go wrong,' I said. Fortunately, before anyone else could say anything, or we could drift into double-entendres, the minibus rattled noisily up and our teachers climbed out.

Good grief,' said the senior master looking Paul up and down, I had no idea you were so experienced. I shan't be worrying about the pair of you then, you'll be coming in first I'm sure.'

Maybe, Sir,' I interrupted politely, but we're neither of us great navigators.'

`Ah well, we shall see, right you lot, get your back packs into the minibus and let's get on.'

We threw our bags into the back of the minibus and bundled noisily on, Paul and I grabbed a space together on the bench seat at the back, and sat there, naked thighs pressing deliciously together. We were not the first drop off, and as we bounced along the country lanes to our various destinations I was very aware of a gradual stiffening in my groin. As it turned out we were going to be the last to be left; `How are you feeling?' I asked Paul, thinking he might be feeling a little nervous. Instead of speaking, he took hold of my hand and placed it on his crotch. His cock was rigid and hard under my hand, and I traced its length with my fingers. Although his shorts were very tight, I was able to pull his shirt out and with a little co-operation, undo the top button and slide my hand down the front and into his pants. I couldn't tell what pants he had on, although they felt smooth and sheer under my gently probing fingers, no matter, no doubt all would be revealed in time.

At the same moment, his hand slipped up the leg of my shorts and caressed my already bulging prick. This was all very nice, but we were nearing our destination, and Paul's shorts weren't capable of hiding anything. As the minibus slowed down, and we were obviously about to stop, I hissed; `pull your shirt out, that'll cover it up.'

As we climbed out of the back seat, his erection was at least partially concealed by his shirt tails; unfortunately, his dishevelled state caught the attention of the senior master. `Oh good grief boy, half an hour in the back of a bus and your clothes are falling off already, tuck your shirt in for heavens sake and try to look decent.'

`Yes sir,' he said meekly as he struggled into his back pack, he turned away as he stuffed the shirt tails back down the front of his shorts, and tried to keep behind me, as his stiffy was still very prominent. I suppose in retrospect, the teacher must have been aware of Paul's tumescence, and thought nothing of it, at that age we were all prone to uncontrollable erections.

Ok, you two,' the master said, off you go now, and we'll see you in a day or so. Don't forget that if you have any problems; you have the centre number, phone in and we'll come and pick you up.'

That's if there's any phones in the wilderness, of course.' I muttered darkly. Right,' I said to Paul, saddle up, and let's get on our way.' As the minibus roared noisily off down the track, we turned off the road and headed into the tree plantation. I think we should head for some higher ground, work out where we are, and where we should be heading.'

Sounds good to me,' he answered, if we go up this way, the ground is rising, and we should be able to see a bit more.'

Yup, but before we go, I'd like to take your picture.' Paul turned to face the camera, standing with one foot on a convenient boulder, and his still bulging crotch thrust towards the camera. I took the shot, and then as he sensuously ran his fingers over the rigid shaft of his erect penis I took a few more. Wow, you look so horny in that get-up,' I said, `we'll have to get a few more pics later.'

Why d'you think I dressed up like this,' he replied, smiling wickedly, but for now I think we should press on.'

It was a beautiful morning; the light drizzle had given way to gentle sunshine and a blue sky, once we'd decided what direction we were going in we walked for a couple of hours through the tree plantation. Apart from the distant buzzing of chainsaws there was no sign of human life anywhere. Eventually we came to some open ground and a steeply rising track, Let's go up to the top, and see what we can see,' I said, it might help us pick somewhere to stop for lunch.'

Ok,' Paul replied, I could do with a cup of tea, and a rest.'

We got up to the top a few minutes later; there was a convenient and comfortable spot, sheltered from any breeze by a couple of large boulders. We dumped our backpacks and I dug out the primus stove to make tea. Paul, in the meantime was wandering about, admiring the view, so I suppose was I as I admired his pert bottom. The back of your shirt is very wet,' I pointed out, if you spread it out on one of these rocks, it'll get dry soon enough.'

Paul took the hint, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, Mmm, that feels better,' he said, enjoying the sun on his pale skin, you should take yours off too.' Once the stove was lit and the kettle on, I followed his lead and pulled my shirt off and spread it on a rock next to his. Paul had wandered off, and was standing right at the top of the mound looking out towards the horizon. Look,' he said, you can see the lakes, do you know which one is Coniston?'

Should be off towards the South-West,' I answered, I'll get the compass.' I went back over to our temporary encampment, and dug the compass out of my backpack. I also grabbed my camera, thinking to take a few pictures from our vantage point.

Blimey, you're keen,' Paul said when he saw the camera; we've got a couple of days, haven't we?'

`Oh yeah, but I thought I'd get a shot of the view from up here.' I busied myself framing a landscape, ignoring Paul for the time being. We were on the tallest of a series of small hills, each one about half a mile apart and projecting out of the tree plantation, forming an irregular and diminishing line leading down towards the lake about four miles away. The top of our hill was quite bare apart from an irregular scattering of boulders; the others all sported some sort of scrubby vegetation.

When I'd taken my picture, I turned round to find Paul sitting with his back against a rock, knees up and legs spread wide. From my position I could see the white trim of his pants showing below his abbreviated shorts, as no doubt he intended. I snapped a quick shot, and then moved closer for a better angle; he carefully undid the button on his shorts and leaned back, gently caressing his bulging crotch, looking straight into the camera lens as he did so. After I'd taken a few more pictures, he undid the zip a couple of inches, enough to reveal the waistband of his pants, and smiling enigmatically, he slipped a couple of fingers in and began to caress the tip of his by now very obvious erection. Wow, that's great,' I said, dry mouthed, keep it coming, nice and slow now.' Even as I spoke, the kettle began to whistle, and nothing, not even sex, can keep an Englishman from his tea. With a sigh of regret for an opportunity lost, I put my camera down, and went to make the tea.

When I came back with the mugs of tea, Paul had stood up, and was staring moodily off into the distance. He hadn't bothered to do up his shorts, and was absent mindedly caressing his groin, `You know they made us carry a mirror in case we got lost?' he asked elliptically.

`Yes, why?' I asked.

`I thought I saw someone flashing a mirror at me from one of the other hilltops, that's all.'

`Show me where,' I urged, full of curiosity.

`Next but one, beside that bendy looking tree, just caught it out of the corner of my eye, but I could have sworn there were a couple of mirrors.'

I gazed off in the direction Paul had suggested, but couldn't see anything, if someone had really been signalling to us they wouldn't just have tried the once. All thoughts of dramatic mountain rescues faded from my thoughts. Can't see anything,' I said, now that you've had your tea, how about we take a few more pics?'

Sure,' he answered, shall I lose the shorts now?'

Yeah, why not, they're dead sexy, but we can always come back to them.' Paul turned away from me, and slowly slipped the shorts down, he was wearing a pair of white cotton seamless briefs, that I recognised as having once been mine. As he turned back towards me it was very evident that the soft fabric was struggling to contain his erection. At that moment I noticed two flashes of light in my peripheral vision and realised at once what they meant. Don't look now,' I said, `but we've got an audience.'

`What d'you mean?'

`Those flashes you saw, they came from the front lenses of a pair of field glasses, someone's watching us from the top of that hill.'

`Oh, right, so some perve is wanking off over there.'

`That's about the whole of it, do you want to move on?'

Do I hell, let's give him a bit of a show.' With that, Paul jumped up onto a boulder, and turning sideways on to our voyeur, pulled down the front of his pants and grabbed his cock. There you go matey,' he said, to no-one in particular, get a load of that.' I took a couple of pictures as he masturbated in a very exaggerated fashion, leaning back to show his prick off to its best advantage. It's about time you got your shorts off too,' he added, `give him his money's worth.'

I didn't need much encouragement, the idea of showing off our bodies in front of a totally unknown stranger was very exciting as was the whole idea of sex in the open air, and my cock had been craving attention for some time now. As I slipped my shorts down, Paul's eyes widened with approval when he saw that I was wearing the skimpy nylon pants he had chosen for me. Good choice,' he said, now play along with me and we'll give this geezer a morning he won't forget in a hurry.'

Ok,' I said, what did you have in mind?'

We'll do a few more pics, then I'll take it from there.' I picked up my camera, and Paul turned his back to me; leaning forwards he put one leg up on a rock and with one hand on the ground he pulled his cock out through the leg hole of his pants with the other. After a few swift strokes, he impatiently pulled the fabric to one side, allowing his balls to come into view. Playfully, he ran his fingers along his crack, paying special attention to the now denuded pucker of his anus. He stood up, and carelessly pulled his pants right off, throwing them at me. His shaven cock looked very large against his pale skin as he walked towards me, taking the camera from my hands; he carefully placed it on the ground before suddenly grabbing my hair and pushing me down onto my knees. Eat it,' he whispered, thrusting his distended prick towards my face. I needed no more encouragement and grabbed his hot erection with both hands before feeding it into my willing mouth. Surprisingly, his cock was still quite dry, and I spent a pleasurable few moments delicately lubricating it with my tongue before I was able to pull back the foreskin and give some serious attention to his glans.

Paul lurched back, dragging me with him, until his back was against the largest of the boulders, taking care to ensure that we were at the most advantageous angle for our voyeur. He leaned back against the sun warmed rock with a comfortable sigh, as I continued to suck noisily on his engorged prick. Now that he was comparatively immobile, I was able to reach down between my legs and, sticking my backside out and hauling my pants to one side, free my own rather neglected erection. Once again, taking care that our audience had the best possible view, I began to masturbate myself in a steady rhythm, matching that to the pace with which I was blowing Paul.

We continued our duet for longer than might have been thought strictly necessary if we were actually performing, and until my ministrations were rewarded with a salty splash of pre-cum. At which point Paul gently pulled his cock out of my mouth and raising me to my feet, indicated that I should take his place, leaning against the rock. I complied, and leaned back, slowly massaging my cock, its' tip now dripping with pre-cum too. Paul took hold of my wrist, disengaging me from my efforts; lifting up my prick and tucking it back into my pants. Dancing away from me, he snatched up my camera, and took a couple of shots of me, my skimpy briefs stretched to the limit and showing a spreading damp stain from the tip of my cock. He raised an eyebrow and winked encouragement to me; closing my eyes, I leaned back and began to stroke my cock through the silky fabric. Even though I was in a bit of an erotic reverie, I remained conscious of the camera clicking away, until finally, I didn't notice any more, and drifted off into a world of my own. Somewhere along the line I must have pulled my cock out of my pants again, because, when I eventually surfaced; Paul wasn't there, and I found myself leaning against the boulder, cock in hand, masturbating gently.

Hey, hey, where are you?' I asked plaintively, you've left me here on my own to entertain our watcher.'

`With you in a second,' his voice came from somewhere behind me. True to his word, I heard the sound of his naked feet padding on the grass and a moment later he appeared again. All became clear; somehow he had managed to cram his bulging genitals into the royal blue Speedos we had found in the lost property basket. They were a testament to the expansive capability of nylon and lycra; his rock hard cock extending stiffly off to one side and his balls swelling out the material below.

Hmm,' I said thoughtfully, once I was fully able to speak, I think Sir might need to try a bigger size, let me check the fitting.' Paul obediently stepped closer and stood facing me; legs apart, and a naughty smile on his lips. I tucked my cock away again and knelt down on the warm grass once more; slowly I ran a hand up his inner thigh, right up to the nylon gusset. Tracing the line where fabric met flesh, I stroked his butt through the soft material whilst at the same time pressing my face against his hot cock. Even though the Speedos were under a lot of pressure, I carefully forced my finger under the taut fabric at the gusset and tested the tension. `I think Sir might well need to remove these soon, before he loses a limb. I'll just see how they fit all round before I offer you my final opinion.' I stood up and walked slowly round him; his cute bottom looked particularly appealing in its tight confinement and I spent a pleasurable moment gently running my fingers over his firm flesh.

I had genuinely forgotten about our audience until Paul coughed and said, `this feels great, but probably isn't very exciting to watch.'

Oh yeah,' I started. I'd forgotten. Let me take a couple of pics of you, and then we can get on.' I picked up my camera, noting that there wasn't much film left and took a couple of photos of Paul gazing into the camera, absently rubbing his cock. Setting it carefully to one side, I returned to the matter in hand. Placing my hands on Paul's shoulders, I gently rotated him so that he faced in the direction of our hidden audience. Pressing my stiffy up against the slippery material covering his cheeks, I reached round his slim hips with both hands and caressed his bulging erection.

`Mmm, that feels good,' he murmured.

I tucked my thumbs into the waistband of his Speedos on either side of his hips and gently tugged; in order to assess the situation.

You're going to have to do better than that,' he said, they weren't that easy to get on.' A bit more boldly, I pulled the waistband free of his body, as soon as I did so, his naked prick sprang free from its confinement and jutted proudly out over the confining trunks. `Oh, that's much better,' he said.

I'd better check it out, make sure it's alright still,' I replied. Without changing my position, I took hold of his hot cock and wanked it firmly, at the same time grinding my own erection against his butt. That all seems to be ok,' I said, eventually, perhaps we should lose the Speedos though.' I took hold of the waistband once more, and kneeling down behind him, I slowly but firmly pulled them down. As he stepped clear of them, I couldn't help noticing that there were little indented lines all round his body where the taut fabric had cut into his flesh. Ok, what shall we do now?' I asked, `I'm aching to come.'

Me too,' he answered, there's just one more thing we can do for our perve, then I think it'll be time for the grand finale.'

`Oh yeah, what did you have in mind?' I said, my curiosity roused.

`Actually, you gave me the idea when you shaved me. If we're a bit careful about the angle we can make it look to him as though I'm fucking you up the arse.'

Wow, that's cool,' I said, that'll blow his stack, if he hasn't blown it already.' Suiting action to my words, I shuffled round in front of Paul facing roughly towards our voyeur, and went down on all fours, sticking my butt up in the air. I felt him move up behind me, his hand caressing my cloth covered bottom and reaching between my legs to give some attention to my balls. By way of an overture, he pressed his hard cock into my crack, rubbing its tip and the skimpy nylon against my anus. Even though I knew we were faking it, this still felt fantastic and I groaned in appreciation. Paul pulled my pants to one side, and continued to rub his prick up and down my now naked crack.

Time we were rid of these I think,' he said thoughtfully, and pulled my pants right down. Now he really went to work, his long shaft smooth and hot against my butt and his hairless balls occasionally brushing against my thighs. Finally, he put both hands on my hips to steady himself and pretended to fuck me, his cock, for the record, slipping down between my legs where I was able to grasp it and enjoy the sensation of him thrusting into my fist. We'd better stop,' he said breathlessly, `or I'm going to come.'

Ok,' I answered, and flopped forward onto the grass. Propping myself up on one elbow, I saw another double flash of light that suggested our voyeur was still with us. Let's finish this off and get on our way. How about a sixty-nine? He hasn't seen that yet.'

`Yeah, great idea, although we'll need to pull out so he can see us come.'

Paul stretched out on the warm grass, carefully positioning his body so that the watcher would be able to get the best possible view of the action. His erect cock stood tall and purple against his pale skin and hairless groin. I was past caring about the camera by now and knelt down beside him, taking the opportunity to run my hands over his cock before straddling his body and delicately taking the tip between my lips. At the same time, I felt him begin to do the same for me, his tongue and lips exploring my glans enthusiastically. I pulled my head back, exposing the maximum length of his prick to the voyeuristic gaze, before engulfing as much as I could into my willing mouth. A few repetitions and I was beginning to taste the pre-cum, a feeling of hot anticipation welling up from my balls indicated that I was well on the way too. Reluctantly disengaging, I spoke; `I'm nearly there, and I can see that you are too, shall we?'

Without speaking he nodded and sat up; propping himself against the warm boulder again he spread his legs wide allowing both the best access and the best view of the action. I sat down alongside him, and adopted a similar position, our thighs pressing together reminiscent of our minibus trip earlier that morning. We each reached down and grasped the others' slippery cock, I favoured slow steady strokes occasionally teasing the purple tip with my forefinger, Paul opting for a contrasting style featuring more speed and a looser grip. Whatever the technique they were both working, I could feel the pressure building up and I could see beads of sweat breaking out on Paul's forehead. `Won't be long now,' I grunted, Paul didn't speak, but nodded his agreement.

Suddenly, before we tipped over the point of no return, Paul whispered; `I've an idea,' let go of me, and, reaching off to one side he grabbed the royal blue Speedos from where they had been abandoned earlier. He held them loosely in his hand, and gently folded them and his hand around my cock, before resuming his rhythmic stroking. The sensation was fantastic, I knew I was going to come, and I knew it was going to be big. As my orgasm inexorably welled up, I felt my body starting to spasm (the clue is in the sig, folks!) and my hand, still clasping Paul's rampant cock, began to judder.

`Oh-oh, here it comes,' I managed to say, before the first gobbet of spunk erupted from my cock. A brief moment later, Paul let go too and our jizz spurted out together, towards the sky and roughly in the direction of our (I hope) transfixed watcher.

We flopped back against the rock, exhausted, our thighs and legs spattered with our mingled sperm, a few last dribbles welling up from the tips of our gradually deflating cocks. I gently stirred a finger in a little puddle of our combined spunk, and anointed his forehead in our customary fashion, a moment later, he did the same to me. I picked up the rather soggy Speedos and used them to mop the spunk off us as best as I could.

`We'd better find a stream, and get properly cleaned up later,' I said, practically.

`Fancy a skinny dip,' he replied, grinning.

`Of course. What shall I do with these?' I asked, waving the now saturated Speedos at him.

Let's leave them for Mr Perve,' he answered with a giggle, he'll probably be up here sucking the juices out of them before we're over the next hill.'

Ok, that's a horny idea,' I said, I'll leave him a note too.' We got up, and gradually got dressed. Paul's white pants were fine, he hadn't kept them on for that long, my skimpy nylon numbers, on the other hand were sodden with my juices too. Shall I leave him these as well?' I asked, waving my pants at him, I'm not putting them back on like this.'

No way,' he said, I picked those out for you, put something else on.'

I rummaged in my back pack and came up with a pair of red cotton y-fronts, my still semi-erect penis swung loosely and less constrained in them. Paul wandered over, still dressed only in his white pants, and gave me a friendly squeeze. We really had better get on,' I said, plenty of opportunities to play later, after all, we've got the whole night too.' Before we left, I scribbled out a note for our watcher which read as follows; hope you enjoyed our little show as much as we enjoyed performing for you, who knows if you'll ever see us again, but if you do, don't give the game away and you never know your luck, you might get a repeat performance.

I folded the spunk soaked Speedos neatly, and placed them on the boulder, where they were clearly visible, I tucked the note under them before we made our way down the hill and off towards the lake. Munching on the sandwiches we'd brought with us, we made good speed toward the water and the possibility of a new adventure.

I knew from our map that we had about a thirty-five mile walk to accomplish, a relatively simple task for two healthy boys, so I figured that we had plenty of time to stop and play along the way. Once we found our way down to the body of water that we had seen from our vantage point, the water sparkling blue and inviting in the warm sunshine. We needed no encouragement, and without bothering to look around for strangers, we threw down our backpacks, pulled off our clothes, ran laughing and naked across the sand and jumped straight into the water. In retrospect this might not have been too clever, especially as the water was freezing cold. We whooped and hollered and splashed about like little kids until the icy water was too much for us and we fled back onto the bank. Throwing our naked bodies down on the warm sand, we basked like seals at the waters edge, dozing in the gentle sunlight.

When we eventually decided it was time to move on, I dug out the Ordnance survey map and our compass. Paul was rather put out to discover that we had been skinny dipping in a reservoir rather than one of the lakes, but cheered up when I pointed out that we would be traversing at least one other lake before we got back to Coniston. I didn't feel any need to point out that Arctic Char (a rare, cold loving fish) could be caught in some of the lakes, as I had no wish to discourage his new-found enthusiasm for nude bathing.

The rest of the day was a simple slog; we walked on through the relatively featureless plantation, pausing only to check the compass every now and again. I hadn't any thoughts about where we were going to stop and make camp for the night, in truth, although I was very turned on by the idea, I was also slightly apprehensive. Up to this point I had never slept with another person other than those times when you crawl into bed with your parents, and I had certainly never slept with another boy. I was, however, quite sure that I wanted to sleep out somewhere high up, so we could see the stars (if it wasn't cloudy). There were a couple of likely spots on our route, so I navigated for them, and eventually, by the time the light was beginning to fail, we made camp on a high crag, overlooking the lakes and the featureless sea of conifers that we had been trudging through all day.

Paul was in high spirits, and put the tent up while I got the primus going and set about producing some hot food. It was a clear night, and in the absence of any street lighting, the stars blazed down on us. Even Paul, who was not a romantic boy, was moved by their beauty. Once we had eaten, we took our mugs of tea and sat together, watching the skies.

I guess we should get to bed soon,' I said, it's not like there's anything else to do.'

Yeah,' he agreed, I've laid out the sleeping bags, but I wondered if you wanted to zip them together?'

`Yes, let's, it's not as if we're unfamiliar with each others' bodies now is it.'

`True.'

I think we should undress out here, there's no room in the tent, and there's plenty of light under the stars.' Paul didn't say anything, but slowly got up, and began to remove his clothing. I looked on, transfixed, as he stripped down to his white cotton pants; the cold starlight on his pale body transformed him from a normal boy to some sort of exotic wood spirit. I could feel the stirring in my crotch as I watched Paul pottering about, gathering his discarded clothing into a bundle. Quickly, I stripped off down to my y-fronts and made a neat pile of my clothes. Paul, in the meantime had wandered away from the tent, and was standing, legs apart, looking out over the dark woods. What are you thinking?' I asked.

`I was wondering if our Mr Perve was out there somewhere.'

`Nah, he'll be tucked up in bed with Mrs Perve, dreaming about us,' I said, to comfort him.

`Yeah, and she won't be getting any tonight,' he giggled.

`Well, if anyone comes near us tonight, we're going to hear it.'

`There's just one thing,' he said slowly.

`Yeah, what?' I asked.

`I think my pubes are growing back already, have a feel.'

I didn't need any more encouragement, and slipped my hand down the front of his pants, it was true; there was a hint of stubble there. Just to be on the safe side, I stroked his cock and moved on to cup his balls, before exploring the area between his legs and up his crack. His cock twitched in appreciation, and I could feel it beginning to grow as I continued my investigation. You're right,' I agreed, eventually, oh well, nothing we can do about it now, I'll just have to spruce you up in the morning. Lucky I brought my razor with me.' We did our normal ablutions, and as it was beginning to get chilly, we dived into the tent, bundling into the joined up sleeping bags as though we'd done this a thousand times. `Are you ok about this?' I asked Paul as we wriggled about in search of a comfortable spot.

`Ok about what?' he asked drowsily.

`Us sleeping together like this, it doesn't feel just like having a wank, seems a bit more grown up than that.'

`Nah, it's just sex, we won't want to do it any more when we've both got girlfriends. It's not as though it means anything. Anyway, I don't know about you but I'm pooped, time we got some sleep.' With that he turned his back on me. With a mental sigh I rolled over and prepared to sleep, I had long ago realised that trying to unravel Paul's mental processes was a futile task, he had convinced himself that what we were doing was in some way heterosexual and that was that. I was very happy to go along for the ride, whatever he thought he was doing.

The combination of a lot of exercise, physical and sexual, and a great deal of fresh air meant that I soon fell soundly asleep; I think Paul passed out the moment he turned away. I may well have dreamed, but if I did I have no recollection. I was rudely awoken by the sound of an RAF jet practising low-level flying along the valley. During the night, Paul had wrapped himself around me, and was lying with one arm over me and his hand jammed down my pants loosely clasping my erect penis. Although he was still sleeping, I could feel his early morning stiffy pressing against my bottom. Paul might have convinced himself that it was just sex, but his body seemed to be disagreeing with him.

I lay still, enjoying the sensation of his warm body pressing up against me, this was actually the first time I had spent the night with somebody who was not a member of my family, and I liked it. Carefully, I reached back and began to caress his erection through the soft material of his pants. He moaned quietly, and rolled over slightly making it much easier for me to get access. Although he was plainly still asleep, his grip tightened on my cock and we held that position, gently masturbating each other for some length of time. It was only my increasingly urgent need to pee that forced me to get up, I reluctantly let go of him, and rolled away; Paul murmured in protest and let go of me, still not showing any signs of awakening yet.

When I opened up the tent flap and poked my head out, the weather wasn't looking too great; the trees were all wreathed in mist and there was a light drizzle falling. It was still stupidly early, and so far all the days had begun like this. Without bothering to put on any more clothes, I strolled across the grass towards the edge of the crag, and pulling out my still hard cock I sent a steaming yellow jet of piss arching into space. Once I was done, I shook off the drips and made my way back to camp, figuring that the sounds and smells of breakfast might awaken the slumbering boy. I lit the primus stove and put the kettle on; tea would be a good place to start.

Down below our crag there was a small and energetic stream plunging over the rocky ground, the evening before as we made camp I had spotted where it widened into a suitable pool for our morning ablutions. I crawled back into the tent and shook the recumbent Paul; `wake up, time to rise and shine.' Paul grumbled and moaned, but eventually surfaced; he still had remnants of his morning erection and looked ever so cute and young as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. His pants, creased and crumpled after a nights sleep were bulging attractively, the fine fabric enhancing the outline of his manhood.

`Time we got washed up,' I said.

`Is there any tea?' he asked.

Kettle's on, come on, by the time we've got cleaned up, it'll be boiling.' I have to say that washing in an icy stream, when there's a fine drizzle falling, and the sun hasn't yet managed to break through the clouds; rates as an experience I wouldn't care to repeat that often. I grant you it was invigorating, but don't believe all that bullshit about bathing in mountain streams; we threw off our pants, jumped in the water, shrieked and jumped straight out again. Ouch,' I said, once I'd finally got my breath back, `what's good for Prince Charles doesn't have to be good for us. I don't know about you, but I'd rather sort out your stubble when I'm not shivering with cold. So let's just wash up and have breakfast.'

Sounds good to me,' he answered, I'm freezing my tits off here. '

We washed as best we could, and scampered naked back up to our camp. The kettle was boiling cheerfully, a plume of steam drifting across the campsite.

`Look,' Paul said, pointing.

`Where?' I answered, somewhat bewildered as I was making the tea.

`We've had a visitor, look at the tent.'

Hanging from the tent pole was a small package wrapped in brown paper and tied up with string. There were no signs of anybody, or any tracks from our visitor. I padded over to the tent and lifted the parcel free.

`What is it?' Paul asked, with the careless excitement of the young.

`I don't know, and I'm not sure how it got here either, pass me a knife would you?' Inside the neatly wrapped package was a small folded sheet of paper, and two small packets wrapped in tissue paper. The note, for such it was, read as follows: Thanks for giving me such a good show, boys. Here's are a couple of little presents for you, I look forward to seeing you in action again. I'd love to see some of the pictures you take some time; you're obviously having a great time. Best wishes, the perve. PS I can lip read!

Wow,' Paul breathed, he's been in the camp.'

`Yeah, and he must be nearby now.' Strangely enough neither of us felt at all threatened by the presence of our voyeur, indeed, I could see Paul getting hard again and I felt strangely turned on as well.

`What's he given us?' he urged.

`Let's have a look,' I said and took up the packet. The first thing that it contained was a box containing some rolls of film and a small camera; I raised an eyebrow and then opened up the rest of the package. Carefully wrapped up were two pairs of pants, not the sort of items that were easily available to a teenage boy, these were made by HOM of France out of some very sheer microfibre and were very minimal in cut. One pair was white and the other a purple colour. Paul snatched them out of my hands and stood up, his erection bobbing in front of my face.

I'll have the purple ones,' he said, and unfolded them, preparatory to pulling them on. Here,' he said, shocked, they don't have any back.' Indeed they didn't, they were what we now know as a g string, with just a fine cord running down between the butt cheeks from the skinny waistband. Paul pulled them on very carefully; the sheer fabric was very stretched but able to contain his erect cock. He stepped away from me and posed, thrusting his crotch out, before swivelling his hips to expose his butt to my gaze; What d'you think?'

Just take a look,' I answered, indicating my own firm erection, how do they feel? Chuck us mine over, would you?'

`Almost as though I've nothing on, but better than that.'

I stood up to put my pair on, they weren't exactly the same cut, with a broader waistband, the fabric was very sheer and, as I discovered, semi-transparent. Paul was right; they almost felt like you weren't wearing anything at all. I stroked my erection through the soft material, it felt wonderful. I could see that Paul was equally taken with the sensation as he too was exploring his cock in their skimpy covering.

I think the camera is a big hint he'd like us to put on another show,' I said, I don't know about you, but I'm game, just not at the moment, it's too cold. We should take some pics for him too, since he's given us a few rolls of film.'

`Yeah, let's, I reckon these are pulling pants, no girl will be able to resist me if she finds out I'm wearing them.'

`Ok, let's have breakfast, and then we can move out, we should make it to the shore at Windermere by lunchtime, and we can find somewhere round there to do it.'

We carefully took off our new pants, sexy and fun though they undoubtedly were, they were not really designed with hiking in mind. I sat down and had a look at the new camera, unlike my SLR it was a compact, designed for easy snapping, but with a built in flash and a power winder. After I'd loaded a film I gave Paul the camouflage pattern y-fronts to wear and for myself I went for the string mesh cotton pants that Paul had modelled a couple of days before. I felt we owed it to our benefactor not to dress until we needed to, and took some pictures as we pottered around the camp, munching our bacon butties. I was sure he'd be watching us from somewhere nearby.

When we came to break camp, I wrote him a brief note; Thanks for the presents, we'll see what we can do for you. We're heading for Windermere and we'll try to find somewhere on the shore this lunchtime. I took a stick, split the top with my penknife, and wedged the note into place, jamming the stick into the ground where one of our tent-posts had been. With that we shouldered our backpacks and made our way down off the crag.

As we tramped through the featureless pine plantation, my mind was full of thoughts, curiously, in those innocent days, it never occurred to us that we might be doing anything remotely foolish or dangerous. In these paranoid times we would have been screaming `stranger danger' and running for the police at the first opportunity. Instead, we both felt a benevolent glow towards our unseen watcher. Paul had a penchant for risk and liked to show off his body, I hadn't previously realised that exposing myself to an audience could turn me on like it did, so I was busy planning our little performance for that lunchtime.

It took us about three hours to get to the lake; Windermere, for those who don't know, is the largest of the English lakes, about 11 miles long and varying in width from a quarter mile to a mile and a half, it is a hub for water based activity, from sailing to water ski-ing. Our path had brought us down to the waterside at the northern end, here we had seen our first signs of human life as we had to cross the A591 road to get to our destination. Where we ended up, the pine planting carried on close to the waters edge, leaving a narrow strip of white sand before the water's edge. Not, on the face of it, an ideal place for us, as the beach was completely open and exposed to view from passing tourist steamers and weekend sailors. What the hell though, we were both hot and sticky from our long tramp, and the water was blue and inviting.

`Shall we have a swim here?' I asked.

`Yeah, I'm boiling,' Paul said. We dumped our stuff on the sand and began to strip off, just as we'd got down to our pants another steamer came round the nearby headland, its deck crowded with tourists. They waved to us and pointed, Paul jumped up and down, waving back, his genitals bouncing in the loose nylon of his y-fronts. I felt strangely uncomfortable, what we had done the day before had been curiously intimate, a compact between the three of us. Here we were on a bigger stage, under a big sky and we had no control over who was watching.

I'm going to put my Speedos on,' I said to Paul, there's too many people watching.'

Ok,' he answered, I'll put mine on too.' This was a bit of an empty promise: there was nothing modest about Paul's Speedos as I have already described. Rather than struggle with towels, we just dropped our pants and hauled on our Speedos before charging down the beach and into the water. The cold water was very refreshing after the heat of our walk, and we were full of energy. Let's swim out a bit,' Paul said, see if there's somewhere a bit less public.'

We swam out for a couple of hundred yards, and looked back towards the shore. We were in luck, there was a little inlet surrounded with deciduous trees just half a mile further up the road. Not only that, but the steeply rising ground behind it meant that one would have to be very determined, or know the terrain, to overlook it. It was obvious to both of us that our watcher fitted both these categories.

That might be the place,' I said to Paul, pointing it out, shall we head off that way?'

`Ok,' he replied, and turned back towards the shore.

As it was warm and sunny, we just put our hiking boots and unbuttoned shirts back on, stuffing the rest of our clothes into our backpacks and set off along the shoreline towards our destination. I lagged back a little because I was enjoying the vision of Paul's bottom in his pale gold Speedos, it twinkled at me, and I could feel myself getting stiffer and stiffer as I walked along. When we found our inlet, it was perfect, a little headland with trees curved round to protect a small sandy beach littered with boulders. The only dampener was a small blue rowing boat pulled up on the beach, oars neatly stowed inside. There was no other evidence of human life, no tracks, or pathways out. It looked like it had just been abandoned there.

We unpacked the cooking stuff and put the kettle on, Paul had taken off his shirt again and was lounging around on the sand in his gold Speedos, he had obviously spotted my erection, but said nothing. Instead, he adjusted his position so that his crotch was very prominent and idly scratched where his pubes used to be.

`Are you game for another picture session?' I asked.

Yeah, of course I am,' he replied, and I could see that he was starting to swell at the thought of it. I need a shave first, my stubble's itching like mad.'

Really, let me see.' I made my way over to where Paul was lying, and kneeling beside him, I took hold of the waistband of his Speedos and carefully pulled them down, Paul obligingly arching his back to lift his bottom off the sand. He was right, on close inspection there was already a dark shadow where his pubes were growing back. I ran my hand over his skin, the stubble was quite noticeable. Lift your legs up,' I asked, and when he'd done so, I was able to feel under his balls and, boldly parting his cheeks, around his crack. Hmm,' I said, it's really only the pubes that are growing back so fast, your balls and your crack are still really smooth. So, a quick shave is all that's needed.'

`Oh,' he said, sounding disappointed.

`What?' I asked.

`I liked the feeling when you shaved me, I was hoping you'd do it all again.'

Of course I will,' I said, but on a rock by a lake is probably not the best place for it.' Paul stood up and stretched luxuriously in front of me, his cock was only semi-hard, unlike mine, and I put out a hand and gave it a friendly stroke. Come on then, let's do it.' I had spotted a large flat rock by the waterline, and indicated that he should lie down while I fetched my razor and shaving cream. The water in the little inlet was clear and warm, it was fed by a little stream, but was shallow enough for the sun to keep the temperature up. Kneeling down in the water alongside Paul, I splashed water over his groin, and rubbed a little cream onto him. His cock responded to this attention by swelling, and after carefully spreading the foam round his crotch I took hold of it with one hand, keeping it out of the way of the razor in my other. I very carefully shaved away the stubble, running my fingers through the foam to feel for areas I might have missed, with my other soapy hand I was able to slowly masturbate his now fully erect penis. Paul was lying there, his eyes closed, and enjoying the attention. Right,' I said, surreptitiously giving my own aching erection a little attention of its own, `off you go and rinse, and I'll see if you need another going over.'

With a theatrical groan, Paul got up and waded into the pool until the water reached his crotch, then he carefully rinsed the last of the shaving foam off his groin before turning back to shore. As he made his way back, I saw him stop, break into a smile, and start giggling. `What's so funny,' I asked.

Pointing at my crotch, he said, `you should have washed your hands, I can see what you've been doing.' I looked down, the bulging front of my black Speedos was covered in white shaving foam where I had absently been pleasuring myself.

I blushed, `Oops, you've caught me out. What can I say?'

Nothing,' he replied, you'd better wash it off, it looks like come.'

No it doesn't,' I replied, wading out to join him in the pool you know very well what come looks like.' I sat down in the shallow water to soak my Speedos, and stood up again to rinse them.

Here, let me help you,' Paul said obligingly, and kneeling down in the water he began to rub the foam free of my Speedos. Hmm,' he said, `you're horny,' as he gave special attention to my rigid cock.

`Yeah, and if you carry on doing that, you're going to make me come in my pants,' I said hoarsely.

`So soon? Where's your staying power?'

`Dunno, this really turns me on, don't know why. Although the first time I ever spunked for real I was wearing black Speedos.'

Oh well,' he said, giving my bottom a pat, now you know how I felt when you were shaving me. You'll have to tell me the story some time, you're all clean now, by the way.'

Let's save ourselves for the pics,' I said, regretfully, because I really wanted to come. It had been quite an erotically charged morning, one way and another. The kettle's boiling, time we made lunch.' I sloshed through the water, and up to our stuff, as I poured the boiling water into our tea mugs Paul joined me, still naked.

`You've not checked me for stubble,' he pouted, thrusting his still erect prick towards my face.

So I haven't,' I replied, I'll do it now, stand still, legs apart.' I examined him in minute detail, both by eye and by hand, I seemed to be getting the hang of this shaving lark, as his skin was smooth and silky, with no nicks.

Mmm, that feels good,' he murmured, shame you've no lotion.'

`Sorry mate, didn't realise that your hair would grow back so fast. Still, a little air and sunshine will have to do for now. Here's your tea, by the way.'

Looking around our little bay, I realised it had been used as a campsite before; there was a ring of blackened stones where a fire had been made, and the marks of a tent were plainly visible among the trees. Leaving Paul sitting on the sand, legs splayed out to get the sun on his crotch, I wandered off to gather some fire wood, as it had occurred to me that if we lit a fire, then our audience would know where to find us. Like all boys we liked playing with fire, and we soon had a good one crackling in the ring of stones, the dry timber only gave off a little smoke, and that rose straight up into the airless sky.

Lounging naked by the fireplace, Paul looked at me and asked; `What are we going to do then? We've got our fancy pants, but what's the story?'

I've given it a lot of thought,' I said, and there is something that we haven't done yet.'

Oh, yeah,' he said, looking worried, you know I won't take it up the arse.'

No, not that,' I said, I meant that we haven't done any pics together.'

There's a good reason for that, dumb-dumb,' he said, someone has to hold the camera.'

Ah well, that's where you're wrong,' I said cheerfully, we can wedge the new camera somewhere, and use my long cable release, then we can do some close ups with my camera.'

Ok,' he said, brightening up, let's get on then.'

`What have you got to put on?' I asked.

`I found a white t-shirt and some cream coloured canvas trousers in the clothing box, what about you?'

`Short sleeve shirt, tight black cotton drainpipes. I think we should get dressed out of sight, that'll make it more sexy.'

`Out of sight of where though?' he asked.

`Good question, I reckon our pervy friend will be somewhere in that headland overlooking the inlet, so we can get dressed in the trees. Here's what I think we should do for a story; I'm the photographer, you're the model, and we're doing an underwear shoot.'

`No surprises so far,' he muttered sarcastically.

`We do a couple of pairs of pants without your getting too excited, then we get to the pulling pants and you get very turned on, as I do. You notice that I'm getting horny and undress me and we get it on together.'

Sounds good to me.' Paul stood up and stretched, what do you want me to start in?'

`If we start with the camouflage y-fronts, you can surprise me with something new.'

Paul smiled, and pulled on the Y-fronts, `I think we should do this like one of those beach fashion shoots,' he said.

`What do you mean?' I asked, he was being creative, which was unusual, but definitely to be encouraged.

Some pics on the sand, and posing among the rocks, then maybe some wading in the water, lots of nice reflections and so on,' his voice trailed away, he had never commented much on the images we created together. Maybe it was because he lacked confidence or I was being too dominant. Suddenly I felt awful and went over and put my arm round his skinny shoulders, that's great,' I said, giving him a hug, `just don't get too excited, remember the sub-plot.'

`Yeah,' he replied, brightening up.

Ok, let's take some pics then,' I said, giving him a friendly pat on his nylon covered bottom, just give me a minute to change into my clothes, you could have a look round for our first location while I get ready.' I grabbed my chosen costume and ducked behind some trees to change, this was nothing to do with modesty, after all; what was to hide. I was trying to create an air of mystery for our watcher, assuming of course that he had managed to find us. I had already forgotten how sexy the g-string made me feel, the combination of near nakedness and silky smooth containment was very exciting, especially as my drainpipes were pretty tight. I was already beginning to stiffen up, the lightweight cotton unequal to the task of concealing my erection, more or less as I had intended. I had loaded both cameras with film, my plan was to do a few establishing pics of both of us, using the timer or the cable release, then abandon that camera and just take pics with mine, before setting up a location where Paul and I could perform together using the new camera and its power winder to its full advantage.

When I emerged, Paul was sitting on a rock, knees tucked up and his arms wrapped round them, `it's not fair,' he said grumpily.

`What isn't?' I replied.

You said I shouldn't get hard, but whatever I think, I can't help it.' He unfolded from his position and it was true; he was sporting a fine stiffy, not a full-on hard on, but a look at me I'm ready for action' erection.

Don't worry,' I replied, that looks really good, probably wouldn't do for a fashion magazine, but this is fantasy after all.' I had located my improvised tripod, and with the aid of a few rocks I had securely wedged the new camera into place. My first pictures were to establish the storyline, thereafter it would all be pics of Paul in various locations. Ok, come over here,' I ordered. Paul obediently walked over and stood in front of me. My first pics were of me and him together, my pointing out various locations and his responding to them. Then I took a few pictures of me kneeling down and adjusting his pants; tweaking the fit, smoothing the waistband, making sure that they were smooth and even across his bottom. All the time ignoring the impressive bulge that was bowing out the front of his pants. I finally stood up and took a couple of pics with me lining up a shot with my camera, carefully angling my body so that my own hard on would be visible too. Right,' I said, `that's enough of that, let's just do some pics of you now. Remember, no hands!'

He laid down in the sand, legs up, knees apart, as if sunbathing. I took a few pictures standing over him, including the classic shot with the photographer's shadow in. Then I got down low next to him, poking my camera lens between his legs to get a close up image of the taut nylon. The tenting effect of his erection had pulled the fabric away from his crotch, and there was a tantalising hint of his hairless balls visible in the gap. Ok, stretch, and then slowly roll over,' I asked from my near horizontal position, try not to kick the camera.' Paul slowly arched his back, lifting his butt clear of the sand and I took several shots as he thrust his crotch upwards, then he carefully rolled onto his side and then onto his front, once again spreading his legs to give me a clear shot of his butt and his balls. I brushed the fine sand off his bottom, maybe spending a little longer on the task than I actually needed to. Once I was satisfied that I had the pictures I wanted, I patted his bottom and said; `We can move on now.'

Good,' he replied, getting up, that was torture, it felt so horny just lying still with the sun on my back, and your hand on my bum. What shall we do now?'

`I think we'll do the wading in the pool shot, and then we'll be done with those pants.' I went down to the waterside and positioned myself on the big rock that had previously served as our shaving station, Paul waded out into the pool until the water came up to his thighs and posed for me. The reflection of his erection made it seem even bigger, these were definitely not the kind of underwear shots we knew from the catalogues.

`Are you done now?' he called out.

`I guess so, unless you have any ideas?' I replied.

`How about this?' he said, and sat down in the water briefly. As he arose from the water, his pants clung tightly to his body, the saturated nylon revealing every contour of his rigid penis and, when he twirled round, the twin globes of his butt too.

That's fantastic,' I said, suddenly dry mouthed, do it again so I can get the water dripping off your balls, then maybe a shot of you running out of the water.' He obligingly did it again, and then came charging out of the water and stood dripping in front of me.

`What now?' he demanded.

Let's try your other pants,' I said, I've run out of film and need to reload. Unless you've got any bright ideas, of course.'

`Actually, I did have an idea, but it's a bit kinky.'

`Oh yes,' I said, suddenly interested.

`It came to me while I was standing in the water, it felt like I'd pissed myself, and I need a pee, so I thought it might be quite sexy if I peed my pants.'

Hmm,' I said, why not, we're covering all the bases here, and what's another pair of wet pants. It won't show in the ones you've got on now cos they're wet already, what else did you bring?'

`I've got some more white cotton ones?'

`They'll be good, off you go and put them on.' Paul scampered off, and I reloaded my camera, he returned a few moments later wearing a very small tight pair of white cotton pants. The modesty panel was gone, and his cock was clearly visible, dressing off to the left and outlined under the fabric.

`Where shall we do it?' he asked, plainly excited. I too was quite turned on, although I hadn't expected to be.

Not in the water, or the tea might taste a bit funny.' He giggled, I could always make him laugh, I know, you could be climbing on that big rock over there, and suddenly you can't hold it in any more.'

Cool, let's do it, I'm busting.' Suiting action to his words, Paul ran along the sand, and over to the pink sandstone boulder that I had suggested. I took a couple of pics as he climbed up; his tightly confined bottom sticking out as he ascended and giving me occasional flashes of his balls as he moved his legs into a better position. When he had reached the top, about five feet above me, he turned towards me; Are you ready? Because I can't hold it much longer.'

`Yeah, I'm ready when you are.'

He turned his whole body to face me; legs apart, with both hands clutching at his dick as if trying to stop the inevitable. Suddenly, a little spreading yellow stain appeared at the tip of his cock, with a look of relief he rubbed at it. A moment later the stain began to spread, the squirt turned into a jet and his pants started to fill up with pee. The yellow stream gushed into his pants and began to cascade through the saturated material, pouring down his legs and dripping off his balls. There didn't seem to be an end to it, the poor boy must really have been desperate. The stream of piss darkened the porous sandstone as it splashed down over the rock face. Finally the flood slackened, and he stood there, pants soaked and dripping, a look of relief and triumph on his face. He squatted down, pulled the fabric to one side, allowing his cock to flop out, and taking it in hand he shook off the last few drops of urine.

How was that?' he asked, Sexy?'

`Hmm, a bit full on, not really my thing, but definitely a bit of a turn-on. I wonder what our Mr Perve made of it?'

Paul tucked himself back into his pants and scrambled down off the rock. Oh well, at least I've tried it,' he said, sounding disappointed, I'd better rinse these out,' and headed back towards the inlet. I followed, taking a few pictures of the aftermath, as he first washed himself off wearing the pants, then took them off and swooshed them through the water. His long and hairless cock unconfined at last, jiggling as he worked. I spread his other wet pants on a sunny rock to dry, then when he emerged with the others, I wrung them out and added them to the others.

I've run out of pants,' Paul said, standing naked next to me, should we do the main event now?'

`Not yet, I've half a roll of film left in each camera, we should do something else first, haven't you got anything?'

I know,' he said, I brought something else from the lost clothes box, I'll try that. Wait there.'

I was intrigued, he was really being creative today, I rubbed reflectively on my erection while I waited for him to return. When Paul came back he wasn't wearing much at all, he had brought a transparent lime green silk scarf, and improvised himself a form of covering by wrapping it round his waist, passing an end through his legs and tying it at the waist. It certainly didn't conceal very much; the sheer silk was very see through in the direct sunlight.

That's really good,' I said, we can do a few pics over here, then move over into the rocks for a few close ups.' Once again, I took some pictures using the cable release, as I adjusted Paul's scarf to my satisfaction. I undid the strip of fabric that passed through his legs and retied it, pulling the fine material into his crack rather than loose as he had had it.

Putting my hand up between his legs, I massaged his genitals through the fine silk. Mmm, that feels lovely,' Paul said, does this mean I'm allowed to be horny now?'

`Yes, I reckon so,' I answered, feeling pretty horny myself.

Oh good,' he said. As I stood up he put his hand on my erection, I guess we'd better unleash this soon,' he smiled.

Yeah, in a minute, let's use up these films first.' We posed together, Paul tracing the outline of my cock with a finger, and my hand resting lightly on his scarcely confined tumescence, and I carried on taking pics until the film ran out. Ok, let's finish the other film,' I said, leading him over to the rocky end of the shore, `I know, let's use the rowing boat.'

We went over to the boat, and I took some pictures of Paul bending over the bows as if about to push it into the water. As he climbed in, he started, and grabbed a piece of paper that neither of us had noticed. It was another note from Mr Perve; congratulations boys, you've found another one of my secret places, I hope you enjoy yourselves here as much as I have done while watching you play. The boat is yours to use to cross the lake, that should save you about four or five hours walking round the shoreline. When you get to the other side, just leave it tied up in the little marina. If you were going to leave me any photos, just leave the film cans in the camp and I will find them, the camera is a gift from me.

`What does he mean, another secret place?' I wondered out loud.

Who knows,' Paul replied, but he's obviously on our side, and a boat ride into the bargain!'

`Yeah, that's good, we might yet be first back to the centre tomorrow morning. Shall we carry on? I've only got a few shots left on this roll.'

Ok, he said. He leaned back in the boat, hand resting gently on his cock through the fine fabric, slowly he began to stroke it, running his fingertips up and down his rigid column, all the time looking directly into the camera lens. Gradually the scarf slipped from its insecure anchorage at his waist, and his erection was free once more.

Try wrapping the silk round your hand, like you did for me with the Speedos,' I urged, it feels fabulous.'

Paul obediently followed my instructions and wanked into the scarf. You're right,' he croaked, it feels great.' I could see that he was getting really turned on, the silk was beginning to darken with the first few spots of pre-cum.

You'd better hold off,' I said, alarmed that he might actually come, I'm out of film.'

With a look of regret, Paul left off his activities, and stripping off his scarf/loincloth he jumped into the pool and splashed about for a bit, presumably trying to lessen the risk of his actually coming. I busied myself reloading the cameras and resetting the position of the compact, in readiness for the main event. I had selected an area of the sandy shore which was open and overlooked by the headland, and yet secluded from the lake. There was also a large flat rock, conveniently placed inline with the small trees, into which I managed to wedge the little camera. `Hadn't you better go and get your clothes on?' I shouted to Paul, who was still cavorting in the water.

Yeah, yeah,' he called back, keep your hair on.' He splashed noisily out of the pool and vanished into the trees again. When he returned, he was wearing a very tight white t-shirt that showed every developing muscle in his torso, this was tucked into a pair of cream coloured canvas beach trousers, that fitted snugly at his waist. The legs were cut more generously than my tight black drainpipes, and I could see that his semi-erect cock had a little more freedom than mine. `What d'you think?' he asked, anxious for approval.

`I think Mr Perve will be creaming his kecks in a minute, if he hasn't done already.' I replied.

`Where shall we start?'

Rather than talk him through, I steered him in front of the camera, and picked up my SLR. I handed him the end of the cable release, saying; `You can take a few with this, while I am photographing you. If you let me know, I'll try and get into a good pose.'

`Ok,' he said, nervously, Paul wasn't a confident photographer.

First off, I want you to give me a few poses, as you are, then very gradually start to lose the clothes. This is all a big tease, and our story line is that you are turning me on. Which, as you can see, you are doing anyway.' This was familiar territory to Paul, although if he felt anything like me, the location and the circumstances added hugely to the eroticism. He stood sideways on to me, and slowly ran a hand over the front of his trousers, where his burgeoning stiffy was beginning to show. I moved in for a close up of the hand as he stroked his cock, and heard the click of the other camera as I knelt down. Let me see some arse now,' I said. Obediently he twisted round, and bent forwards, pushing his bottom towards the camera lens, he slowly slid his hands down his legs, until he grasped his ankles and looked back at me through the triangle he had created. I reached out and gently rubbed his groin from behind, his erection was very hard now, and filling out his trouser leg. `Get a pic of me touching you up,' I said, trying hard to concentrate. I waited until I heard the click before I stood up and encouraged Paul to do the same. Standing behind him, and pressing my own aching cock against his butt, I slipped my hand down across the front of his trousers, following the rigid outline of his prick along his thigh. He'd got the idea by now, and I heard the camera rattle off a couple of shots.

Resting my chin on Paul's shoulder, I reached round his hip, and slowly unzipped his fly. Equally slowly, I slid my hand in through the opening and felt the soft material of his pants. He leaned back against me as I explored a little further down, just reaching the hot shaft of his dick, Ok, time for you to lie down I think,' I said, regretfully pulling my hand free. Paul sank languorously to his knees, his fly gaping, I snatched a picture before he settled back comfortably into the sand. Let's have a little more,' I asked, and Paul obliged by carefully unbuttoning the top button, revealing the purple fabric of his g string. I knelt down again beside him, to get the close up, as his hand stroked at his erection through the canvas of his trousers. I placed my hand on top of his, and together we slowly caressed his rigid cock. I had turned sideways on to him, my own stiffy very apparent in my tight black drainpipes. In order to relieve the pressure, I undid my top button, slid my zip down a little and eased my dick into a more comfortable position. Paul, of course, chose to take a picture at the moment when I had my hand in my pants.

I think you could lose the trousers now, but try not to show that you're wearing a g string,' I could practically hear the cogs whirring as he tried to work that one out, Don't worry, I'll help you, just make sure you get a few pics while I do it.' I added. I took hold of the waistband of his trousers and, as he lifted his bottom off the ground, I carefully slid them down. The fine fabric of his HOM pants was stretched taut by his raging erection. I snapped a couple of shots of him as he lay there, still wearing the tight white t shirt in contrast to the purple material of his new pants. His arms stayed by his side, and his eyes were closed, until a hand crept to his crotch and began to massage his cock as it distended the material.

I knelt down alongside him, and took a couple of very close-up shots of his fingers sliding over his glans, there was already a spreading dark spot of pre-cum beginning to show through. `Maybe the t-shirt should go?' I asked, anxious to move things along a little, and more than a little keen to get my own kit off. He sat up, and stripped the t-shirt off slowly, as I clicked away.

`It's about time you did something,' he added settling back into the sand.

Yeah, you're right,' I agreed, but it needs to look good.'

Paul slipped his hand between my legs, and stroked my bum before bringing it back through and slowly caressing my cock. He tugged patiently at my zip, pulling it all the way down. The relief as my erection was no longer trapped in the tight jeans was immense. There was no way he would be able to get my drainpipes off from where he was, so I stood up next to him, facing the camera, and wiggled my way out of them. As I bent over to push the bunched up cotton over my ankles, I felt a hand on the naked skin of my bottom, playfully he grabbed the string, and followed its route down my crack, between my legs and out the front. I could hear the little camera clicking away as he did this, and leaned back as he cupped my balls, his fingers playing sensuously over my stiff cock.

Facing the camera, I knelt down carefully, my knees either side of Paul's pelvis, his erect penis pressing hard against mine, both still in their respective g strings. Reaching down, I pulled his pants to one side, releasing his erection into my hand. I slowly began to masturbate him, the back of my hand rubbing along the length of my dick as I did so. Shuffling down a little, I fed his penis into my pants, both our cocks stretching the semi-transparent material to its limit. It felt wonderful, rubbing the two hot cocks through the silky fabric, and judging by the quiet moans, Paul thought so too.

Without changing my position, I pulled my shirt over my head, and leaned back to give the best possible shot to the camera. Abruptly I stood up, getting a moan of protest for my pains; I grabbed up my camera as Paul resumed his wanking duties. For the first time I turned my back towards the other camera, exposing that I was wearing a g string, and I crouched down for a close up; displaying my bottom to the onlooker. Put your cock away, and lift your bum off the sand,' I commanded. Paul followed these instructions, and arched his back, propping his bottom clear of the ground with his hands on his hips. I was able to take the close up shot that revealed that he too was wearing a string. As he had both hands full, I grabbed the cable release and took a couple of pics on the other camera. Roll over,' I asked, Paul obliged, and pushed his bottom in the air, head cushioned on his forearms and his smooth white buttocks bisected by the purple string. Unable to resist, I softly stroked his warm skin, then, with a finger tip I traced up and down the line of the string; down his crack, over his hairless anus and through his legs to the base of his balls. I felt his body shudder with pleasure as I undertook my sexual odyssey, we'd certainly come a long way since the early days, and come a lot into the bargain!

Once I felt I was done with Paul, and I was satisfied that we had all the pictures we might want, I rested my hand on his butt and asked; `What shall we do now? I've got a couple of ideas, but I thought you might have some too. I'm going to have to reload with film in a few frames, so if you wanted to cool off a bit before we take it to the bridge (I'm sorry, I'd been listening to James Brown, I suspect the reference was wasted on Paul), now's the time.'

Yeah, ok,' he said drowsily, lifting his head up, I was well on the way.'

`Let's finish off these films then.' I offered him my hand, and he slowly hauled himself to his feet. The stiff pole that was his prick was distending the small triangle of stretchy fabric, in truth, nothing very much was covered up by it, although when I looked down, I realised that I was similarly exposed. I put my arm round Paul's waist and pulled his warm body next to me, our twin erections in their contrasting fabrics clashed pleasingly as we faced the camera. I put a hand down and firmly grasped his cock, and getting the idea; he did the same to me and we slowly wanked each other.

This was the point where the film in the small camera ran out; Paul flopped down on a rock while I reloaded, his erection still hot and heavy. He seemed very tired, although when you consider how much exercise and how much sex we'd had, this wasn't really surprising. I was buzzing; I was discovering things about myself and how much I liked sex, no doubt I'd pay the price for it later, but in the meantime, I was game for anything. Once I'd done, I picked up my camera, which still had a few shots left in it. I took a couple of pics of Paul resting on his rock, head in his hands and that ever present erection jutting out from between his legs. Come on,' I said gently, and pulled him down to the pool, figuring that the water would liven him up; Let's see what happens to your pulling pants when they get wet.'

The answer, gentle reader was that they became a good deal clingier, if that were possible, and mine were almost transparent. Splashing out of the water for a moment, I set off the timer on my camera, and rejoined Paul in he water, we posed for our picture with our fingers touching the tips of each other's cocks. A finger on the other hand touching our lips as if in mock surprise, completed the image, maybe not one for the family album.

`D'you remember when I took some pictures of you in the bath?' I asked, fondling his cock through the sodden pants.

Yeah,' he giggled, I slipped at the critical moment and came all over you.'

`We've never been that good at getting the cum shots, have we, but anyway, what I thought was that we should do it again, but with the camera set up.'

`What d'you mean?'

`I'd like you to come all over my face, and then I'll come all over you.' I said.

`Cool, I'd like that, specially if I can come first,' he said, looking pleased and distinctly perkier.

`but I really want to get a good shot,' I said insistently.

Yeah, yeah,' he said dismissively, not a problem.'

I grabbed him by the shoulders and wrestled him down into the water, and we horsed around for a bit. Wait a bit,' I said, when we surfaced, let's try something; stand still, legs slightly apart.'

Paul did as I asked, standing up to his crotch in the pool, his balls just being kissed by the lapping water. I submerged, and resurfaced between his legs, facing towards him. Pausing for a moment to nuzzle into his hot crotch, I lifted my hands up and supported him under the arms as I stood up, Paul's legs either side of my head. There wasn't much of a chance of my seeing the expression on Paul's face from where I was, as my view was wholly occupied by his bulging genitals, but I heard him squeak with surprise as I lifted him up, I was very glad that he was still a lightweight. I reached round with one hand, and pulled his pants to one side allowing his cock to flop out, I took the tip into my mouth, teasing the glans with my tongue, he was already well lubricated and his pre-cum flooded into my mouth. I walked slowly out of the water, and back up the sand to where I had set up the camera and knelt down, depositing Paul gently onto the sand.

As he laid there, cock jutting from his pants, I stood over him, and pulling my g string aside too, I gave my neglected cock a bit of attention. Paul groped for the cable release and took a few shots as he watched me wanking over him. Umm,' he said tentatively, there was one thing I liked.'

`Oh yes?' I said.

`Could you rub your cock over my bum-hole again, it feels great. I'm not having it up me, but I love the feeling it gives me when you touch me there.'

I'm game,' I answered, roll over then.'

Once again he stuck his arse in the air, difference was he wanted me to play with him this time. This time I pulled his pants right off, and moved up close behind him, before I did what he'd asked me to do, I leaned over and blew gently on his skin. As he wiggled in pleasure, I blew a little more, directly onto the pink pucker of his anus. He moaned again, and his groping hand reached back and grasped my cock firmly. Taking this as encouragement, I leaned forward and started to lick his bottom, carefully angling myself so that it would look like I was rimming him. I delicately flicked my tongue around his virgin pucker, the ecstatic sounds that Paul was making suggested that this might be a future source of pleasure for him. Gently unclasping his hand from my cock, I stripped off my pants and brought my throbbing cock to bear on his naked bottom.

I was really turned on, and wasn't going to be able to do this for very long, unless he wanted me to come in his bottom. Still, I was willing to give it a go, and pressed the tip of my cock into his crack. The combination of my spit, and the moistness of my cock provided plenty of lubrication as I gently slipped it up and down, giving special attention to his anus. I wasn't able to resist a little prod at him, just forcing my glans in a tiny bit, but he pulled away, and I pretended that nothing had happened.

I was really close to coming, so I rolled him over, `Sit up,' I said, and he propped himself up on his elbows. I took hold of my cock, kneeling with my knees either side of his waist, his erection pressing against my bottom. I wanked vigorously, until I could feel the pressure building up, as I was about to come, I shuffled up a bit and aimed my cock at Paul's face. I could hear the camera clicking as a great rope of spunk jetted out of my cock and spattered into his face. Fortunately his eyes were closed, as the next few gobbets of jizz covered his face and hair, he opened his mouth, licking at the dribbles as they dripped down his skin. Exhausted, I flopped back, the last few dribbles leaking from my cock and over my thighs.

Paul sat up, his erection firm and hot in his hand, right, your turn,' he said, suiting action to his words and starting to jerk over me. I put up a hand and gave him a little assistance, until it was obvious that he was close to coming. I groped for the cable release, and as he gasped; here it comes,' I closed my eyes, opened my mouth and pressed the button. The feeling as his hot spunk spattered into my face was wonderful, I too licked at the dribbles as they trickled over my face. I heard Paul giggling; `If you could only see what you look like,' he spluttered.

I can see you,' I said, with dignity, come here.' Paul shuffled over, I wiped a handful of jizz off his face and licked it off my fingers, `no need to anoint you, I've already done that and you to me.'

`I'm pooped,' Paul said, yawning.

Let's have a kip then,' I answered. We curled up together where we were and quickly dozed off in the warm sunshine. We slept for quite a while, I think, neither of us had been wearing a watch during our performance. We were rudely awakened by the onset of a sudden rain shower, up to this point we had been lucky with the weather, but the Lakes are notorious for the sheer quantity of rain that they produce. Oh well,' I said, `at least we're naked, can't get any wetter. Let's get cleaned up.' We walked slowly down to the water, the gentle rain splashing on our bodies. Gently, almost sacramentally, we washed each other down, cleaning the slippery spunk off our bodies and faces.

We'd better get on,' I said, we can row across and make camp on the other side.' We dressed carefully, putting on the pants that we had dried in the sun earlier. We had managed to take all six rolls of film that our pervy friend had left for us. I popped them into their little cans and addressed Paul; `What d'you think? Should we leave these for him?'

`I think we should leave him some of them, although I'd really like to see how they've come out.'

`Ok, I'll leave him the ones from the new camera, and keep the ones I took with mine.'

`but then we won't have any with you in,' he said, looking disappointed.

I'm always game to take some more,' I answered, smiling. Come on, let's get our stuff into the boat.' Before we left camp, I wrote another note for our watcher; Hope you enjoyed watching our show as much as we enjoyed doing it, here are some of the pictures we took. We've kept some of them, so we won't forget the day. I tucked the note under the little pile of film cans and placed it safely in a dry place, clearly visible to anyone walking into the cove.

As I rowed the boat out onto the lake, the rain had begun to slacken off. I was able to scan the woody headland that overlooked our cove, but our mysterious voyeur was a better woodsman and I couldn't see anything of him, if indeed, he had ever been there. We crossed the lake in about an hour, Paul pointed over my shoulder towards the jetty that protected the marina we were to leave the boat at.

Without being challenged, we tied the boat up, and headed inland, by my reckoning we were only five or six miles from the centre, our boat ride having saved us the same distance again. We walked for a couple of miles before making camp in a clearing, we were both starving hungry after our exertions and cooked up a big fry up to fill our bellies. After we were done, the light was beginning to fail, and we couldn't think to do except crawl into the tent. We no longer had no inhibitions about sleeping together after the events of the day and snuggled up close in our sleeping bags. Warmth, full stomachs and the comfort of sleeping spooned up against a naked boy meant that we slept almost immediately.

The next morning we were awake early, as the light penetrated the canvas of our tent. We were still snuggled up together, and despite all our efforts the day before; I had awoken with a raging hard on, a swift investigation revealed that Paul too was similarly turgid. I didn't even stop to think, but throwing back the sleeping bag, I went down on him, slurping noisily on his cock. After a moment's surprise, Paul responded, and turned round to join me in a sixty-nine. There was nothing subtle about our sex; we were both responding to feelings that at our age we didn't have full control of. We sucked urgently until I could feel the familiar sensation of impending orgasm building up, I'd already had a taste of Paul's pre-cum so I could safely assume that he wasn't far off either. With perfect symmetry we shot our loads at more or less the same time.

We swallowed and sat up, `Wow, that was good, I haven't come like that for, hmm, at least eight hours,' I said.

`Yeah, and we haven't got spunk all over the sleeping bags either,' Paul replied, practically.

`Go and put the kettle on, would you? I'm still aching after all that rowing,' I flopped back onto the warm sleeping bag.

Paul unzipped the tent flap and then reversed out into the feeble early morning sunshine. A second later he shot back in, as if shot by a catapult.

`What's up?' I asked lazily.

Paul was bright pink, `take a look,' he said.

I crawled down the tent and stuck my head out through the flap, there was nothing to see. `What?' I demanded.

`Go a bit further,' he said.

Ok,' I crawled right out of the tent and stood up, right alongside us, but set slightly back, was another tent, a primus stove already heating a kettle outside it's flaps. Suddenly aware that I was naked and very evidently post-coital, I dived back into the tent, crashing into Paul, who was hastily pulling his pants on. Ah, I see the problem.' I whispered, blushing too, `put a shirt on, and we'll pretend we were going for a wash if anybody asks.' I put my pants on, and grabbed my shirt. Sheepishly we crawled out through the flap and I started to pump up the primus. There was no sign of the occupants of the other tent, although the steam coming from their kettle indicated that it would be whistling soon.

There was to be no escape, as soon as the kettle boiled, the flaps opened and the occupants crawled out. It was the small well endowed boy who had been so interested in us, and a friend. He was still small and well endowed, moreover, he too was dressed in white underpants and a t shirt, as was his friend, how nice, all boys together and half way to naked.

Morning,' I said cheerfully, didn't hear you pitch your tent last night.'

No,' he giggled, it was quite dark and we could hear you both snoring, so we didn't try to wake you.'

`Snoring?' I said.

`Yeah, we could hear every sound from your tent, kept us up for ages.'

Oh, I'm sorry,' I replied, maybe you'll learn not to pitch your tent quite so close next time.'

Maybe I will,' he said, smiling, I think I've a lot to learn about camping.'

There's not a lot more to relate, we made breakfast, washed up, and broke camp in an hour, three hours later the four of us walked into the comparative civilisation of the outdoor centre. After dumping our stuff we were congratulated on a model exercise by the teacher and headed for the games room to chill out. I was still buzzing, we'd packed a whole lot into our couple of days, and there was the additional complication of our little hanger on, whose name was Ewan, I had now discovered. I had little doubt that he'd heard everything, but what he made of it was a mystery to me. When I unjammed his camera, I had been able to retrieve the film, perhaps this would hold a clue. I would have to avail myself of the darkroom at the earliest opportunity, and of course, I had a few films of my own to develop too.

To be concluded....