Roughing It in the Bush
Sometimes I wonder what it must have been like before the car was invented. Being bound close to home, or taking streetcars, or else being wealthy enough to own a horse. It doesn't actually matter, because I was born in the second half of the Twentieth Century and everybody owns a car. They say the car has radically changed our mating rituals; I don't doubt it. Turning sixteen and getting my driver's licence changed my life. My grandfather died when I was fifteen - I saved the money he left me and bought my own car as soon as I could. What I got was an old Ford Taurus. Not a glamourous car, but it was within my budget, was in good shape, and it was big enough to have sex in. The last item being no small part of my decision.
I think I've always known I was gay. I never did play 'doctor' with little girls, I was always too busy checking out my friends' pee-pees. When I was eleven, I discovered how much sleepovers could be, and it was a happy time. By the time high school came around, however, I was too old to indulge in this sort of activity without suspicion. The problem, alas, was where to have sex? There was almost always somebody home at my house, and letting my parents find out what precisely I was up to with the men in my life was out of the question. My friends had the same problem. Motels are too much money and in a park you're likely to be either caught or molested by a weirdo. Growing up in the suburbs was hell.
As I said earlier, buying a car solved this little problem - location. But then, my father's company transferred him to a different state, halfway across the country, no less. All my established contacts were gone. No more JO sessions with old chums; no more blow jobs from special friends. All were left behind and I was left with nothing more than my right hand and a tube of KY.
I suddenly found myself one September in a small town in Minnesota of about forty-five hundred people. It was pleasant enough; my high school was full of amiable people and I soon had a circle of friends. Unfortunately, a small town's friendliness is conditional. Conditional on you not being different. Being gay was definitely considered different. Coming out to anyone, even my closest friends, was out of the question. I was frustrated.
The winters in Minnesota are long and trying. I had to put light oil in my car and to buy a block heater. Finally, after too many days of sweaters, snow, and snow-shovelling, Spring arrived along with black flies and mosquitoes. Finally, after too many days of bug repellant, Summer arrived and school let out. To celebrate the end of exams, four of us decided to go camping. My friend Jock McGregor knew a good spot by a lake in the State Forest, deep in the bush, where we'd have to canoe in. Jock had been there before on fishing trips with his father and his uncles. He persuaded his dad (with a case of Labatt's) to lend us two canoes and a trailer, and I had a trailer hitch installed on my car.
After a three-hour drive to the start point, we unloaded our gear and set out. Jock was more or less organizing us. He was outgoing, a natural leader, and he had more outdoors experience than the rest of us put together. Jock could have easily departed into the bush for months at a time, living off the land and only emerging to buy more beer and more rounds for his rifle. He was 6'1" tall and a strong, stocky build, a big boy for someone who had just turned seventeen. He had a shock of permanently mussed blond hair on his head and deep blue eyes. His best friend, Danny, was sixteen and 5'8", but still growing, with straight brown hair that flopped over one eye. He was a slight boy, but very athletic, being a valued member of the track and hockey teams, his two passions. Danny didn't really see the point of going to a lake that wasn't frozen, where you couldn't play hockey until it was too dark to see the puck, but he relented so far as to come with us.
At the time, I was about 6' tall, thin at 165 lbs., and with short brown hair, blue-grey eyes, and freckles. I can't say that I was built like an Adonis, but I was muscular in my legs and back from cross-country skiing, and in pretty good shape. Robbie, however, was the apple of my eye and the subject of more than one daydream involving a desert island. He was of average height, about 5'10", light brown hair which he kept neatly combed and brown eyes which had melted many of the female hearts in our high school. He wasn't a boy of exceptional beauty, or particularly muscled, or even distinctively well-hung (as far as I could tell). Nevertheless, he had a charm and a quality of sensuality that made him a hot commodity with the girls and opened the door to any clique he cared to hang out with. He had a breezy, casual personality that made him easy to talk to. Robbie was an intellectual, but never seemed it; he was just good company. I desperately wanted to have sex with him, and I did, over and over again, in my head.
Jock harried us until we approached some state of organization and we started out about two o'clock in the afternoon. Neither Danny nor Robbie were great outdoors-types, but both had a background in canoeing and camping from the Boy Scouts, to which virtually every boy in this town had belonged to at some point. I had lots of hiking and cross-country skiing experience, but this was my first canoe trip, and I was something of a liability, at first. It didn't take too long before my arm and shoulder were burning from the effort. I concealed my pain in a burning stubbornness to keep up instead. Jock, who was in the stern of my canoe, was doing all of the steering and almost all of the work, but was kind enough not to say anything. He was strong enough he might even have not noticed.
He probably did notice my suffering, because we only paddled a few hours before Jock took pity on me and suggested we pitch a camp for the night. We dragged the canoes up on a rock and set to work, Jock setting up the tent, Robbie and me gathering wood for a fire, and Danny starting to cook dinner. It's not too hard to eat well in the outdoors, with some careful planning, and we dined that night on steak and potatoes. In the evening, we built up a fire and drank beer while telling lewd stories. I also learned a few dirty campfire songs, like "T'was on the Good Ship Venus," "Old King Cole was a Horny Asshole," and "Bang, Bang, Lulu." It's funny how many of these songs skirt around the edges of taboos, like masturbation, incest and, most often, homosexuality ... Unfortunately there weren't any homosexual encounters that night. After demolishing the beer, we all crawled off to our sleeping bags and I lay there, half-drunk, listening to Robbie's breathing, in the hot night, suffering.
The next day we had a quick breakfast of instant oatmeal and coffee, which I found almost undrinkable, because I wasn't used to the bitter taste of it. We paddled all day and made three portages, two of which were short, and one of which was about two miles. We were all fit, so carrying all our kit and our canoes overland for two miles wasn't too rough, but Jock said that it took us into an area less travelled, because most people weren't interested in making the effort. Sure enough, after that jaunt there was fewer and fewer signs of old campsites, and after paddling and dragging the canoes up a creek, over a beaver dam, and through a pretty foul-smelling swamp there were no signs of other human beings at all. Just as I was wondering why the hell I wasn't home, eating cheesies and watching TV, we scared off a Blue Heron and popped out onto a small, cozy lake with a sand beach.
"This is it," beamed Jock triumphantly. None of the rest of us said anything. We were still taking in the beauty of the place. If I had been questioning the wisdom of it all just moments before, I surely wasn't now. We beached the canoes and stood there, stretching our stiff legs and arms.
"Well, I don't care what the rest of you are doing, but I'm going for a swim," Danny declared, with a somewhat irritated delivery. Danny had misjudged his footing in the swamp and he had sunk up to his hips in mud and stagnant water. It took all three of us to pull him out and then he had to grope around for the sneakers which had been sucked off his feet. He was dirty and he smelled like rotting garbage. Naturally, we still found this just as funny the second time around, and we proceeded to laugh at him all over again.
"To hell with you," he grumbled as he started to pull off his clothes. He didn't hesitate when it came to his mud-stained jockey shorts, and those went into the pile with the rest. He stalked off towards the lake, walked straight in, and dove under as soon as it was deep enough. The sight of Danny's nakedness was at first startling and then stirring, as his bare ass slid under the water. Robbie and Jock started taking off their clothes too, so I followed suit, and pretty soon we were all swimming around, buck naked.
I have to confess that for all my sexual libertarianism, I turned out to be a bit of a prude when confronted by my naked pals. Not knowing what the protocol was, I had even packed a bathing suit in my rucksack. Apparently, my assumption that straight boys in Minnesota never, never got naked together was all wrong. I had never been skinny-dipping before, and once I got over my initial New England puritanism I found that I rather liked it. I liked the sensation of the water swirling around my cock and my balls slapping unencumbered against my thighs. I also enjoyed looking at my friends naked for the first time.
Jock turned out to be covered in blond hair from head to toe. He was a hairy lad, with a thick mane covering his chest. His pubic hair was a darker blond which lightened as it spread up from his crotch to his stomach. He also turned out to be enormously well-hung, with a huge penis that flopped all over place when he walked on the beach. Danny looked younger naked than he did normally. He was almost hairless, except for a well-defined pubic triangle and the light covering of hair on his legs and arms. Danny was the only one of us who was uncut.
I have never been hairy either, and I had no chest hair at all. Just brown hair sprouting from the usual places, plus a bit around my asshole. I swam out where I could stay under water, because the sight of everyone naked, especially Robbie, had given me a raging hard-on that I had no desire to reveal to my pals. Robbie walked with the same careless saunter naked that he used to attract women when was wearing clothes. He was slightly unusual in that he had a very hairy ass and legs but nothing at all on his chest or stomach, just the thickest, darkest treasure trail I had ever seen, stretching from his penis up to his belly button. I was also wrong about what filled his boxer shorts; he possessed not only a long, thick dong, but dangling down was the biggest set of balls I'd ever seen, bulls and horses not included.
The water was cool enough, even at the beginning of July, that I didn't keep an erection long. We swam and goofed around energetically, and even wrestled a little, trying to dunk each other - a big release after a long day of work.
"See that rock?" Jock pointed out a small cliff face on the opposite shore of the lake, about 500 yards away. "Do you guys think you can swim it, or do you want to paddle over? The water is deep enough underneath that we can jump off the top."
"Robbie and I can make it. What about you, Aaron?" asked Danny.
"I was on the swim team at school, back East," I replied. I used to make the lifeguards at the ocean beach near my house nervous because I'd swim all the way out to the navigation buoy and back again by myself, no matter how big the waves were. Swimming was easier than the ordeal of the change room, where all my teammates would get naked and flick towels at each other. It was an ordeal because I knew I'd never get to suck any of the cock that was being flashed in front of me, the same situation I was in now. I felt the blood rushing in my penis again. "I'll be there before you've even left." I dove in and started swimming for the rock.
The others followed me and didn't finish far behind. The rock loomed over me, a lot higher than it looked from the other shore. Jock didn't hesitate a second and immediately started scrambling up the cliff from the side, with Danny following. Against my better judgement, I climbed up too. It wasn't an easy climb; there was no path to speak of and you had to carefully assess every step, holding on to whatever rocks, roots or branches were available. Danny paused to consider his next move. I looked up and found the view was spectacular. Danny had a handsome, muscular ass and his legs were braced so that I had a good view of not only his balls hanging down but up his crack to his pink hole as well. When we started moving again, I decided to give Robbie behind me the same view. I was too chicken, though, to turn around to see if I got a reaction.
We got to the top and all of us, except for Jock, were a little uneasy at the prospect of jumping off this rock. It was about 30 feet high, and when we looked into the water below, the rocks in the water did nothing to reassure us.
"Uh, look, Jock -" Danny started.
"It's fine, " Jock stated with authority, his hands on his hips and his cock swinging as he turned around. "All you have to do is run, and make sure you clear that bush when you jump." The mental image of being carried out through that swamp while strapped to a spinal board did not encourage me at all. "Watch." Jock hurtled himself over the edge, windmilling his arms on the way down and letting out a primal roar when he bobbed back up, apparently unhurt. Jock's example poked a spot in our male pride that we couldn't ignore, and shortly all four of us were jumping off the rock.
We spent what was left of the afternoon jumping off that rock, then we swam back, got dressed, and set up camp. After dinner, we argued about who was going to scrub the pot. "You will," said Robbie with a wink. The bastard could make me do anything he wanted, and I think he knew it too. Then we just lazed around, chatting, reading, and watching the sun set.
That night we built a fire again and Jock pulled out a bottle of Canadian rye whiskey that he'd bought in Winnipeg last Christmas. The whiskey was potent stuff and it went to our heads pretty quickly. Danny and I started an Indian leg wrestling match, which I won easily, being much bigger. This went on for a while. When Robbie and I took a turn, it degenerated quickly into a real wrestling match. Neither one of us was giving the other any slack, and for all of five or maybe even ten minutes I didn't think about sex once. Honest. Then, I got Robbie into a half-nelson, and the sensation of his struggling ass rubbing against my crotch stiffened my cock. "Oh Christ," I thought, "he has to notice that." I was wearing a pair of cut-off track pants without any underwear.
"Ha, now I've got you!" exclaimed Robbie as he slipped out of my hold and caught my arms while I was distracted. We continued to roll around in the dirt and my hand (accidentally, I swear!) touched his crotch. He had an erection too! This made my head spin enough that I was I pinned by Robbie, and pinned well. I couldn't move. I looked up at him, grinning in his victory, and then down at my tented track pants.
"Danny and I are going to go get more wood for the fire, we're running out," Jock said as he stood up. I looked over at the fire. It was still blazing and there was still an ample stack of wood beside it. Jock and Danny disappeared into the darkness with the rye.
Robbie was still above me, holding me down and smiling. He leaned forward a bit and ground his crotch against mine. Feeling the friction of his hard cock rubbing mine through our clothes, I sucked in my breath. What was happening? Surely he wasn't coming on to me. This guy was straight. He could (and did) sleep with any chick he wanted to. Why was he grinding hips with me?
Sometimes, just for a few crucial seconds, my conscious mind looses control of my behaviour. The little repressed voice of my subconscious breaks through and says, "Fuck whatever you've been told. You're going to do what feels good and damn the consequences." If this guy was teasing, he just teased the wrong fag. He was going to get everything he was asking for.
Without too much resistance, I pulled my arm out of Robbie's grasp and grasped his erection through his jeans, feeling it from the top down to his balls. Robbie closed his eyes and shuddered. My other hand slipped under his shirt and I lightly grazed his chest up to his nipples and tweaked them. I reached around behind him and slid my hand all the way down his back into his underwear and grabbed his butt cheek firmly, pulling him on top of me. My hands continued to explore his body, but left his penis alone. I took one of his hands and placed it on my left chest under my shirt. He was very nervous, but he didn't resist. He cautiously began running his hand over my chest and I encouraged him with a moan.
"Let's - let's go to the tent," Robbie suggested. His normal cocky attitude had evaporated, like an actor forgetting his lines and unable to play his role.
We got into the tent and I zipped it shut behind me. It was pitch black. I found him in the darkness and pulled off his shirt. He undid his jeans and pulled them off eagerly. My clothes came off just as quickly. For a moment, we just held each other tightly, enjoying the sensation of our nakedness against each other's body.
I reached down and fondled his balls. This generated tremors and sweating. I was shaking from excitement myself as I stroked the shaft of his cock up and down. Then, I rubbed the cockhead against my inner thigh, smearing the pre-cum that had gathered. I bent down and began to kiss it. Robbie gave a loud groan and lay back with his legs spread. Leaning over, I kissed his navel and began working my tongue down the trail of hair, my cheek brushing his stiffness. I started to alternate between licking his cock and taking it into my mouth, a little deeper each time. His fingers ran through my hair and pulled the back of my head in.
"Ohhh ..." Robbie was starting to make louder and louder noises now and I could tell by the way his legs were twitching that he was close to losing control. I swirled my tongue just under the head, and he let out an anguished howl. He came explosively in my mouth and I tried to swallow it all, but some leaked out around my lips and ran down his cock. I was out of practice. "Oh God," he cried, still out of breath.
I climbed up and lay on top of his heaving chest. To my surprise, he took my head in his hands and pulled me to his lips, opening his mouth. Robbie was one hell of a kisser. He was all passion, probing with his tongue, lost in the moment. He told me later that he only knew two methods of kissing: the dry peck on the cheek you give your Great-aunt Agatha when she tells you how much you've grown and the full-blown, no-holds barred passionate tonguing that can only mean that more serious things were to follow. I received the second approach. Evidently he liked this.
"Roll over," Robbie commanded, and I obeyed. He started fondling my balls and stroking my shaft. Everything was happening so quickly I hadn't even contemplated getting anything in return. With only an instant's hesitation, he bent over and started to lick me like an ice cream cone. I felt a wave of pleasure ripple out from my crotch like from a stone in a puddle. I looked down in wonder and awe at this straight boy at my feet who was concentrating on blowing me.
"Watch your teeth," I warned. His lack of experience was made up for by his enthusiasm. He took my cock into his mouth until he started to gag and then pulled back to start licking me again. His right hand was curled around the base of my dick. When his left hand started rubbing the root of my erection, down by my balls, I gasped. I literally saw red as my load shot into his mouth in four or five hefty squirts. After some more necking, we collapsed in each other's arms, just laying there silently while the sweat on our bodies dried.
Looking back now, I suspect the other two must have been listening to us, because it wasn't very long before I heard the zipper on the tent snap open. Still, it came as a complete surprise. Every muscle in my body froze as I instantly realized that we were about to be caught. Robbie didn't even twitch, and I couldn't move with him on top of me. Jock and Danny came in and closed the tent behind them. They didn't use a light and they didn't say a word. After getting undressed, they crawled into their sleeping bags and fell asleep. Robbie and I did likewise, silently. It was awhile, however, before I was able to fall asleep, wondering what it all meant. Robbie, the bastard, fell asleep right away, apparently untroubled.
The next morning, everyone got up early, as usual. I was the last one dressed and out of the tent, as I was a little bit reluctant to face everyone. I wandered down to the lake. Jock was standing with his back to me, naked, drying himself off with a towel. He started to put his clothes on and noticed me while he dressed.
"Morning, Aaron," he said brightly. "Want to go fishing with me?"
"Uh, sure," I replied, a little unsure of myself. "I don't really know what I'm doing, though."
"No problem. I can make an angler of you this morning in fifteen minutes." I made a cocksucker out of Robbie last night in the same length of time, but I didn't say that out loud. I helped him put the canoe in the water, and held it steady while he ran up to our packs for a minute. Jock came back with a tackle box and two rods, and we very gently paddled our way to a shady cove.
Jock assembled the rods while I (carefully) baited the hooks with some worms he had in a can of dirt. When he was showing me how to cast, he reached over to adjust my grip. He hesitated for just a split second when he realized he was holding my hand with his arm around me, but that was the only acknowledgement any of the three of them made that morning about the previous night's activities. Even Robbie merely resumed his cheerful indifference to everything.
Jock did well that morning and pulled out three decent sized lake trout in short order. (I caught nothing.) When we went back in, he showed me how to clean and gut a fish. Then the four of us ate them fried for breakfast, washed down by Danny's wretchedly strong coffee.
After packing up, we set out in the canoes about nine o'clock for a long day, as we had a lot of distance to cover. We only had a quick stop for lunch, and didn't even get out of the canoes to eat, drifting on the lake in the sun. There were a couple of short portages, and a longer one around four o'clock. Part way down the trail, we set down the canoes and our packs. There was a long drop between the two lakes and the creek cascaded furiously over the rocks. Jock had stopped us right beside a waterfall, and we all stripped down for a shower.
Danny pulled out a bar of biodegradable soap and we all washed ourselves. The water beat down on our heads and shoulders pretty hard and you had to watch your balance or get knocked over into the shallow pool in which we were standing. The water was surprisingly warm and the massage of it falling on my stiff shoulders felt good. Pretty soon, however, another part of me was stiff again, to my horror. The sight of Robbie washing himself naked in a waterfall brought back in a flood all the memories of the previous night and a rush of blood to my penis. I felt another rush of blood, but this time it was to my cheeks in my embarrassment. Jock did nothing but look away and ignore it. Robbie just stood there casually with his usual half-smile of his on his face. Danny didn't say a word, but gave me a wink! Then he started talking to Jock, and I couldn't hear what he was saying over the noise of the water.
We dressed again and in my melting pot of emotions I fumbled with my clothes and almost fell over. We finished off the portage and set the canoes in a very broad and long lake, the biggest one yet.
"At the far end there are a few cottages, but I don't think we'll see anyone so long as we camp down here someplace. They don't allow motor boats on this lake, so it's pretty quiet." Jock suggested a point of land about half a mile away. "That looks like a likely spot."
We paddled down the lake and set up our camp. There was a small stand of white pines and we set up the tent amongst them. Danny got dinner going. After dinner, we just kicked back and talked awhile. Right around sunset, someone suggested a swim. We took off our clothes and walked naked down the rocks to the lake. There was a smaller jumping rock, about five feet high, and we held a biggest splash contest. I would have fingered Jock as the favourite, based on sheer bulk, but as it turned out, Danny had technique, and he beat us all easily. We killed some time trying to touch the bottom and seeing who could swim the farthest underwater (me, by about 10 yards) and then got out and started drying off.
"Where's your towel?" Danny asked Robbie, who was just standing there shivering while he waited for us.
"I forgot it in the tent," he replied. Danny walked over to him, but instead of handing him the towel, he simply began to dry off Robbie himself, starting with his back. Then he rubbed dry Robbie's hairy ass and did the back of his legs. Robbie's persona cracked just a little and the tiniest indication of surprise came over his face. But he didn't pull away, he turned around to have his front done too. I looked over at Jock, who had far more than just a hint of surprise on face; Jock couldn't believe what he was seeing. Danny worked his way up Robbie's front, and he didn't overlook the genitals. In fact, he gave them a good working over and Robbie was partly hard when he was done.
"There," said Danny, and the four of us climbed up the rocks and got into the tent where our clothes were. Instead of getting dressed, though, Robbie bent over Danny and kissed him with an open mouth. Danny didn't resist; he kissed back just as passionately and his hands immediately went to Robbie's cock, which stiffened quickly. Jock gaped at the sight. He was clearly shocked at the way his best friend was now licking and sucking Robbie's boner. The truth was, I wasn't any better prepared. I was so surprised that it was several seconds before I felt the lust rising in my own loins.
I looked at Jock again and could almost see his brain trying to reconcile what he was seeing with his normal world view. Somehow, I immediately knew that Jock was subconsciously weighing his options, and that I had to react quickly. Before my doubts had a chance to gather, I took Jock's cock in one hand and his balls in the other.
"What the hell are you doing?" he yelled. He tried to pull back but I held him firmly, squeezing his nuts a little. His cock was already semi-hard when I grabbed it and now it was rising steadily. I started to nibble at the mushroom-shaped head, while I carried on stroking the shaft.
"Let me go. I'm not gay and I don't want this," Jock protested weakly. His throbbing rigid penis and moans of pleasure proved the second part a lie, as I licked the underside from bottom to top. I took one of his balls into my mouth. He had quite a lot of pubic hair, and it was a strange sensation on my tongue and tickling my face. "Unnnuh ... " Jock had stopped resisting and was giving in to the pleasure. I started sucking his member in earnest, trying to make his first blow by a man as intense as possible.
Jock lay back and stretched out his legs. His cries were getting louder and louder and I started to ease off a little. I was enjoying this and didn't want it to end too soon. Lying on top of him, I ground my own hard-on up against his. Reaching down, I started giving him slow strokes, knowing how well this would drive him crazy. His breathing was heavy and he was moaning continuously. Christ, he was downright noisy.
"Should I stop?" I asked, knowing full well how close he was to erupting.
"No, suck me ..."
"Do you like it?"
"Yes. Suck me, please. C'mon ..." This macho stud was begging for it. Victory was mine. I put his cock in my mouth, swirled my tongue around it a couple of times, and took his cock as deeply as I could. Jock was really long and there was no way I could get all of it in. I started thrusting on him with my mouth and it wasn't long before he literally screamed and his dick exploded in my throat. I was determined not to make the same mistake I had with Robbie, and I made sure that I swallowed every drop of cum.
Jock lay on his back, sighing, watching Danny bring Robbie nearer and nearer to orgasm with his mouth. I started running my hand through Jock's chest hair and playing with his nipples. I would have kissed him, but I didn't want to push him too fast. Pretty soon, Robbie shot his load with a cry and Danny sprayed it all over both of them. The two of them started making out and rubbing Robbie's cum into their skin. Jock put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it tenderly. I felt a warm glow.
Danny moved over to our side of the tent and pulled Jock on top of him. "Do me, now," he ordered. Jock paused to consider this, and then obeyed. He wrapped his large hand around Danny's smallish prick and began to explore. I moved out of the way and was promptly grabbed by Robbie who started to give me one of those kisses. When you're being kissed by Robbie, he puts everything he's got into that kiss. There might as well be no one else in the world and the effect is amazing. No wonder all the girls like him. From the way things were going, at least three guys were going to get the same treatment.
Robbie's lips and tongue started to work their way down my body, concentrating on my nipples, but neither were they ignoring my neck, armpits, and navel. I looked over at Jock and Danny. Jock had worked himself up to licking Danny's firm cock, and from Danny's reaction, Jock was making a good go of it (especially when he pulled back the hood of Danny's uncircumcised dick and licked there). Robbie was taking his time with me and the result was that I was being worked into a frenzy. When he finally got me to orgasm, it was amazingly intense and I felt wave after wave of pleasure. Danny had already come and was lying on top of Jock, enjoying his thick chest hair, just as I had done.
Even after we had all come, the sexual energy in the tent seemed almost tangible. For all of us, our desire was like an avalanche gathering speed coming down a mountain. I don't know what was going through the heads of these three straight boys, but I felt like all guilt and shame had been washed away. After a short rest, things started getting hot and heavy again. Each pair of lovers gave each other another blow job before we were all satiated. Robbie's technique was improving with practice and my second orgasm that night was mindblowing. We finally all fell asleep together in a big heap, a tangle of arms and legs.
The next day we were due back home, so we didn't delay in getting underway. It was about mid-afternoon by the time we made it back to the car and I was tired from all the exercise that day (and the previous night). I dropped off Jock and his trailer first, since he actually lived on a farm outside of town. As I helped him unload the trunk, I took a quick look around to make sure we were safe and then kissed him while the trunk lid hid us from his mother on the front porch. Jock was startled, but he returned it. I dropped off Danny next and then found that I wasn't completely exhausted, because I found the energy for a quickie with Robbie in a secluded lane before I took him home. At last, my car had fulfilled its destiny as a vehicle for hedonistic sex and the future looked bright for the four of us together.
This is my first attempt at this kind of story. If you liked it, let me know and I'll write more.
- The Cadet