Construction Days

© by The Lavender Quill, 2002

Warning: the following story contains graphic descriptions of male/male sex between consenting adults. If that sort of thing bothers you, or you are a minor, or it is illegal for you to read this type of content under the laws of your area, don’t read any further.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual people or events is purely coincidental.

Setting: Sacramento, California, 2002.

Chapter 17.

By the following weekend, I was starting to get seriously frustrated. We had dinner together on Thursday, followed by a frenzied make-out session. We both got off, but really, it was not enough. He had to leave long before either of us was close to satiated.

I had hoped that he could spend the night on Saturday again, but he was worried that his parents might start suspecting something. He had spent too many nights at my apartment already. We talked on the phone almost every day, and exchanged emails, but that was not nearly enough.

On Monday, Uncle Don and Brian both chastised me at work. I didn’t get chewed out real bad, but my frustration was affecting my work, and they called me on it. They knew what I was going through, and were sympathetic and understanding. A construction site can be a dangerous place, however, and they didn’t want me causing an accident because I wasn’t paying attention, possibly injuring myself or someone else. They asked if there was anything they could do to help, but I couldn’t think of anything they could do.

On Tuesday, Robby called and left a message for me at the construction trailer. When I got a break, I called him right back on his cellular phone. He asked if I would be willing to help him with an emergency repair that evening, like what we had done a few days after I’d first met him. I said yes, of course. I’d have said yes if he’d asked me to go swimming in a sewage treatment plant with him.

I begged my uncle to let me leave a little early, and he said yes. I dashed home so that I could shower and change before Robby came over to pick me up. In retrospect, it was almost pointless to get dressed. Within minutes of Robby entering my apartment, we were both naked on the floor in the living room, doing our best to give each other carpet burns.

Usually I am the one with the hair trigger, but this time Robby blew his load in my mouth after less than a minute. I managed to last almost twice that long. I got a little exited and nearly choked him with my dick when he stuck his finger in my ass.

I dragged myself to the couch and flopped down on it to catch my breath. Robby stood and started to pull on his briefs. I caught his hand and pulled him on to the couch with me. We settled sideways on the couch with him sitting between my legs leaning back on me, my arms wrapped around his chest.

“Can we just sit like this for a few minutes?” I asked. “Do we have to go right away?”

“We should go soon, but we can stay for a little bit.”

I nuzzled his neck. “I just want to hold you,” I said. “You’re so gorgeous, and you make me super horny all the time, but sometimes late at night, this is what I miss the most.”

“I can’t wait till we get our own apartment, Kevin. You can hold me every night. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of it.”

I squeezed him affectionately. “Yeah. And the extra money we make tonight will just put us that much closer to getting your loan paid off.”

All too soon we had to break up our little snuggle. We dressed and drove out to a doctor’s office. A foot specialist. Feet must pay well, because they didn’t bat an eye at what Robby was going to charge them. The problem was pretty easy to diagnose. Some idiot installing some shelving had drilled a hole in the wall—right where one of the high tech cable conduits was. We had to replace two lengths of cable from the last junction box onward.

With the headsets on, I could talk to Robby as we worked. It was kind of like talking on the phone with him in that it reminded me how much I missed the physical contact.

“Robby, I’m going crazy. We just had sex an hour ago, and you’re only a hundred feet away, but I miss you already.”

“I know what you mean,” he sympathized.

“I don’t want to get you in trouble, but isn’t there some way we can see each other more?”

“Like what? I’m totally open to suggestions, stud boy.”

“I dunno,” I said. “Can we go away for the weekend?”

“I don’t think so… well, hmmmm.”

The cable Robby was pulling had stopped, and I knew he wasn’t done. He was thinking, and I shut up. The cable started moving again.

“I was thinking a hotel in San Francisco for the weekend,” said Robby. “But no way could I explain that to my parents, and I don’t want to spend the money. It’d be expensive, and I want to save it so we can get an apartment as soon as possible. But maybe we could go camping.”


“Sure. We were both boy scouts. That was one thing I used to do that would get me out of the house for a weekend without my parents. Camping in boy scouts. You and I could go camping. It wouldn’t cost much, and it wouldn’t raise any suspicion.”

“That’s a great idea, Robby!” I was ecstatic. “We can see if our sleeping bags will zip together to make one big one.”

“Pervert,” Robby laughed.

“You don’t want to?” I said, mock hurt.

“I didn’t say that. We’re definitely not sleeping in separate sleeping bags.” We both laughed. “Where do you want to go?”

“How ’bout Shasta Lake,” I said. “There’s lots of places to camp around there, and school just started again, so there won’t be many people this time of year.”

“Okay. I’ll get the food. Do you have a big tent? All I have is a little one from scouts.”

“Me too, but I can borrow a bigger one from my parents or Uncle Don,” I said. “Ooo, Robby, I can’t wait to see you in a lumberjack shirt.”

“I don’t have a lumberjack shirt, you goof.”

“Better yet, no shirt.”

“I’m going camping with a pervert.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said. “Plan on it.”

* * * * *

By Friday I was practically skipping around the construction site. The morning after we decided to go camping I’d received an email from Robby. His parents had said yes and the trip was on. The anticipation buoyed me through the rest of the week.

I cleaned up my truck, vacuumed out all the construction grime with a big shop vac. I talked Uncle Don in to letting me leave at lunch time. It was a three hour drive, and I wanted us to have time to set the tent up before it got dark. As soon as he let me go, I dashed home, hauled all my tools up to the apartment, cleaned and changed, then carried my backpack and camping gear down to the truck. I was perched on the back bumper waiting for him when Robby arrived. He’d arranged to leave work early too.

It didn’t take long to throw the food and his pack in the back, and we were on the road. One advantage of taking my truck instead of his van is that it has one simple bench seat. Robby could snuggle up right next to me for the whole drive. I just had to make sure he didn’t make me too horny to concentrate on what I was doing. We made good time driving up I-5, the main interstate highway that runs up the west coast from Mexico to the Canadian border. We got gas and stopped for dinner in Redding, the last major town before heading off into the woods.

Uncle Don had suggested several of his favorite campgrounds—there are over twenty in the Shasta area, and I had called ahead to reserve a space. A reservation wasn’t all that necessary this time of year, but hoping for some privacy, I wanted a site deep in at the far end of the campground, as far from anyone else as I could get.

I was pleased when we arrived. Our spot was as private as you could expect for a public campground.

“I have a surprise,” I said as we set up the tent.


“When I borrowed the tent, I also borrowed a big two person air mattress.”

“Sounds like you’re planning on spending a lot of time in this tent,” said Robby.

“I can’t help it. I’ve had half a hard on for the last three hours.”

“I hope it doesn’t take you too long to blow up that air mattress then.”

It didn’t. Less than half an hour after we arrived at the campground, we were inside the tent, naked. Neither of us made any attempt to make it last. We had all weekend. The anticipation of our weekend together and too much time apart, and him snuggled up to me in the truck for three hours added up to serious pent up desire.

“Somebody was horny,” said Robby as he licked come off my stomach. I had shot off only minutes after we’d started. He hadn’t lasted much longer.

“For you, always,” I said. “I hope you brought lots of food. You’re gonna need the energy.”

“Don’t worry. I brought lots.” He snuggled up next to me. “Hold me for a few minutes, and then I’ll make some popcorn.”

I squeezed him and kissed his forehead.

“I’ll hold you for the rest of your life,” I said.


“Yeah,” I admitted.

“It’s just one of the many reasons I love you, Kevin.” He sighed and snuggled closer.

We did eventually extricate ourselves from each other’s arms. Robby insisted on doing everything that evening. He said since I always cooked when he came over to my apartment, it was his turn. He started a small fire and made popcorn. He also sharpened a couple of sticks, and we roasted marshmallows, just like when I was a boy scout.

Throughout all of it, we sat close to each other and touched often. We held hands, or I rested a hand on his back or snaked an arm around his waist. It was like I had been denied adequate contact for a couple of weeks, and now I couldn’t bear to let him go for more than a few seconds.

After we ate, we snuggled in each other’s arms next to the fire. We stayed that way until the fire burned out well after dark.

We retired to the tent, and I lit a small candle lantern, which I hung from a wire. By the light of that single flickering flame, we made love long into the night. With the urgent need satisfied earlier, and knowing we had all weekend, we were able to take our time.

We kissed for a long time, our bodies enmeshed, hard cocks pressed against each other. The urgency was gone, but the need was not. After a time I wanted more. I slid a hand into the crack of his ass, my fingers caressing his ass hole.

“Robby,” I whispered in his ear. “I want you. Can I?”

“Oh, Kevin. Yes. Yes. Always. I love it when you’re inside me.”

I took my time, preparing him generously with lube and my fingers before placing my cock against his entry. I kissed him.


“Oh, God yes,” he said.

He gripped my shoulders and I pressed slowly but firmly down. In the flickering light I watched Robby’s face as I breached his sphincter. His eyelids fluttered as his eyes rolled back, his brows arching, his lips parted ever so slightly as he held his breath. There was no need for him to tell me to go on; his desire was written on every feature of his face. He slowly let his breath escape past his lips as I sank deeper into him, stretching him open till I could go no further.

I became fascinated, watching his face as I began to slowly fuck him. He kept his eyes closed, mostly, but even closed they were surprisingly expressive; little flutters of his long black lashes. Sex like this felt so good to me, and I knew he enjoyed it as well, but I was just beginning to see just how good it was for him. When I thrust just a certain way, his nostrils would flare and he would arch up into me. He really liked that, and I concentrated on repeating it. His head rolled slightly from side to side as I did that over and over again. I reached down for his cock, which was fully engorged between us.

“No don’t,” he said. “Not yet.”

I left it alone and set myself to hitting that sweet spot deep inside him. He wasn’t the only one getting off on this though. Just seeing the pleasure on his face made it all the better for me too. Soon I was reaching the point of no return.

“Robby, Robby. I’m gonna come.”

He clamped his arms and legs tight around me.

“No, no,” he said. “Stop, Kevin. Just stay like this. Don’t come yet.”

I stopped, buried to the hilt. I latched onto his neck with my lips.

“Not yet,” he said. “I don’t want it to end yet. Just stay like that for a minute. I wanna keep going.”

I felt like I was sliding down a slope, nearing the edge of the cliff, almost ready to go over. Even though we’d stopped all motion, just the feel of my cock buried up his chute, our bodies pressed together, his arms around me, his beautiful face before me, his eyes now staring into mine was almost enough to drive me over. I hovered on the verge of my orgasm for what seemed like ages.

“Oh, Jesus, Robby,” I gasped, pulling back from the brink.

“I love how this feels. Just stay like this.”

I did. I tried to breath evenly, tried not to move my cock, tried to get my heart to stop racing. Robby showered my neck with kisses.

“Oh, Kevin. I love you. Just hold me like this. Stay inside me.”

I shifted slightly, trying to find a position where I could rest comfortably for a minute or two, and that almost made me blow. I held on, though. God it was intense. He held me tight and I could hear him breathing. I began to relax slightly, began to back away from the edge.

We came to a place where we were able to hold each other for many long minutes, my cock buried, unmoving, deep in his ass.

“Oh, yes. I love you,” he said again.

“Robby, this is awesome.”

“I know. You’re doing great. Just hold me.”

His face was a mask of bliss. We continued to hold ourselves like that for a while longer, and then Robby slowly let his arms release from my shoulders and stretch out from his sides on the sleeping bag.

“I love you so much, Kevin,” he said. “Take me now. Please.”

I kissed him passionately then, and withdrew almost completely out of him. I lunged back into him again, hitting that spot I’d found. He hissed in a breath and his eyes rolled back. I did it again.

“Oh, Kevin, Kevin. Harder baby, harder.”

His arms were out to his sides, and his legs were relaxed. He was completely open to me and I began to plunge into him in long deep strokes.

“Oh, yes,” he moaned.

I had not, it seemed, been able to back far from my orgasm, because it came back on me in a rush. With almost no warning, I began to erupt into him.

“Robbyyyyyy, oooooooooh…”

I flooded his canal as I pistoned in and out. I was only vaguely aware that he was coming too.


I was aware enough, though, and knowing that I had brought him that pleasure made my orgasm all the more intense. When we both spent ourselves, Robby’s arms circled me once more.

“Oh, Kevin, that was wonderful. Just stay like this for a minute.”

“Anything, my love.”

We held each other, and I stayed inside him till I was completely soft. Finally I pulled out. I was suddenly very tired. We cleaned each other up with a towel, and I blew the candle out. I pulled the other sleeping bag over us, wrapped my arms around Robby, and fell into a deep sleep.

* * * * *

When I woke the next morning, I was one happy boy. The birds were chirping, the forest smelled clean and wonderful, and Robby was still comfortably in my arms. I couldn’t dream of a better way to wake up.

I nuzzled Robby’s neck softly until he woke too. He rolled over to face me.

“Mmm. You can wake me like that any morning,” he said.

He had a huge smile on his face that mirrored my own. I kissed him on the tip of his nose.

“Morning gorgeous,” I said. “What do you wanna do today?”

I felt him reach for my dick, which was hard, of course, and not just from needing to take a leak.

“Well, well,” he said. “First I think we need to take care of this.”

“We can’t spend the entire weekend in the tent. We gotta eat, if nothing else.”

“I suppose. But we don’t have to go out just yet, do we?”

I reached over and slid my hand down the length of his shaft. I pulled him over on top of me.

“No, not just yet,” I agreed.

After a pleasant, though not quite as intense lovemaking, we finally crawled out of the tent. By then we were both sorely in need of the bathroom and a trip to the campground showers. That taken care of, we were both famished.

Robby insisted on cooking breakfast, and managed a tasty scrambled egg concoction. Like the previous evening, we touched and cuddled almost continuously.

We decided on a hike. We made some sandwiches and carried them in a daypack as we followed a trail out of the campground along the shore of the lake. Shasta is a huge three-fingered lake with over 350 miles of shoreline. You can hike for days if you are inclined. We decided on an easy hike for a few hours along the shore.

It was a little cool at this elevation, but not cold, and we warmed up as we hiked. We hiked for about an hour along the main trail along the lakeshore. I found myself wanting to hold his hand, but there were enough other hikers along that trail that neither of us felt comfortable doing that. I settled for walking very close to him except when we actually saw someone else, and we brushed our hands against each other occasionally.

We decided to branch off the main trail when we found a small trail that led up the hill away from the lake following along a small stream. Once we were out of site of the lake, I took his hand. I figured this was a small enough trail that we wouldn’t encounter as many people, and we would likely hear them in time for me to let go.

I felt myself relaxing in a way that I hadn’t in quite some time. The quiet and fresh smells of the forest had a soothing effect on me. Or maybe it was being able to hold Robby’s hand and not worry about being caught.

A short way up the side trail we came to a washed out footbridge. The stream was low now, but would have been much higher with the spring snowmelt runoff. There was a board nailed across the rails on our side of the stream with a sign on it from the Parks Department. It informed us that the bridge had washed out earlier in the spring, and that it would be replaced next year after the snowmelt. I sighed.

“Too bad,” I said. “I liked being off the main path.” I turned to go back down hill.

“I saw a fallen tree across the stream a little way down,” said Robby. “Maybe we can get across there and pick up the trail again.”

“Sure,” I said, brightening immediately. “Let’s go look.”

We walked back down the trail and around the next bend. Sure enough, there was a large tree fallen across the stream that I hadn’t even noticed.

“Good eye,” I said. “Score one for Robby.”

I looked carefully. The tree looked like it had been down for several years, but didn’t look rotted. The bark on the top was sort of smooth, and it was obvious that other people had walked across it before. Robby climbed on to the trunk and jumped up and down once. It seemed solid. I figured it must be if it had not washed out when the bridge did.

“Looks good to me,” he said.

The tree wasn’t too high above the stream, and the stream was pretty slow, so I figured there was little danger. At worse, if one of us fell off we’d get wet.

“Go for it,” I said.

Robby quickly walked across, his movements graceful and sure like a cat. He jumped off when he got to the other side. I followed, though somewhat less gracefully, and was soon beside him.

“Ooo,” I said. “Now we’re real pioneers.”

Robby laughed.

We waded through the underbrush beside the stream until we found the trail again on the far side of the washed out footbridge. Once back on the path, I took Robby’s hand again and we continued on. It looked like few people had found a way across the stream. The trail was covered with dead pine needles and leaves, and occasionally a fallen branch. At times it was a little hard to distinguish where the trail was.

We hiked unhurriedly up the trail for about an hour, never seeing another person. We stopped when we came across a rocky knoll and sat down to eat. Robby lay down with his head in my lap, and I fed him bits of sandwich. Neither of us said much. We hadn’t talked much the whole morning. He smiled up at me and I smiled down at him, just enjoying watching his beautiful face. It felt like we had the whole forest to ourselves, and his eyes blazed with life and wonder. At least that’s how it looked to me.

I heard a sound and glanced up. Robby heard it too, and started to roll and say something, but I gently put my fingers to his lips to shush him, and pointed. He turned to see what I was pointing at. It was a pair of coyotes. I couldn’t tell if they were male or female at a distance. They trotted across the trail below us and down to the stream. Robby and I watched in silence, not wanting to scare them. They stopped at the edge of the steam in a flat area where the flow was slow and lapped up water. What little breeze existed must have been blowing up hill, because I don’t think they ever saw or smelled us. After they’d finished drinking, the coyotes loped off down the hill, one playfully chasing the other. They reminded me of puppies.

I sighed happily. The world seemed perfect at that moment. We sat silently for a few minutes, each lost in our own thoughts.

“Robby,” I said. “I don’t know much about religion. I don’t even really know if God exists or not. But right now, out here, I feel closer to God than I ever felt in any church.”

Robby looked up at me with a curious expression. I suddenly felt foolish for saying what I had.

“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to, uh, insult your beliefs, or whatever.”

Robby took my hand in his.

“You shouldn’t be sorry,” he said. “Why would I be insulted by what you believe any more than you would be insulted by what I believe?” He leaned up and kissed me, then put his head back in my lap. “It was a beautiful thought. If God did create the forests and the animals, maybe we should feel closer to him out here.”

I smiled at him, in love with him all over again.

We sat for a while longer. Then we got up, put on our daypacks, and wandered down to where the coyotes had stopped at the edge of the stream. Robby reached down and touched the ground where a paw print stood out clearly in the soft bank. He stood up and looked at me with a smirk.

“I think they were both boys,” he said.

“How come?”

“I donno. I guess cause of the way they chased each other when they left.”

He reached up and tapped me on the head, and then turned and darted off down hill with me chasing him, just like the coyotes. I discovered that I’m faster than him, but he is more agile, and was able to dodge me, laughing among the trees. I finally caught him, or maybe he let me catch him. I pulled him to me and kissed him.

“Think they were gay coyotes?” I asked.

Robby snickered. “Is there such a thing?”

“Probably,” I said. “I read something about gay monkeys somewhere. Why not gay coyotes?”

He laughed and kissed me. “Well I suppose they call it ‘doggy style’ for a reason.”

We kissed for a few minutes. I started getting a little horny, and wondered if we should risk going farther than a kiss. Robby poked me in the ribs, startling a laugh out of me. Then he darted off down the hill again.

“Woof, woof,” laughed Robby, scampering among the trees.

We chased each other through the woods again for a few minutes. Then I lost him for a second when he darted behind a huge tree trunk. Trying to second guess him, I went around the other way, thinking to catch him. I guessed wrong, though. He had doubled back and snuck up behind me, and grabbed me from behind. He locked his arms around my waist, and I felt the substantial bulge of his crotch pressed up against my ass. He mock dry humped me.

“Ah, ah, ah, aaaaoooOOOOooooo,” Robby howled in his best imitation of a coyote baying at the moon.

We both cracked up, and when he released me I fell to the ground laughing. I pulled Robby down with me.

“Bad doggy,” I scolded with a smirk, and smacked him playfully on the butt.

He kissed me.

“That better?” he asked.


He rolled off me and stood, then pulled me up too. We found our way back to the trail, and continued back down.

“I wonder if there are gay fish in the lake?” Robby asked.

“Oh, dude, don’t ruin my dinner.”


“Well, what if we catch some fish for dinner?” I asked. “I can’t eat a gay fish!”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“You’re the one who was wondering if there were gay fish.” I laughed. “Fish don’t even have sex, you goof. How can they be gay if they don’t have sex?”

He looked at me sheepishly.

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. All I’ve been studying is electronics the last couple years. I guess high school biology sort of fell out of my brain.”

“Do you suppose there’s gay birds?” I asked.

“Okay, okay, enough already. I do remember that birds lay eggs. I guess it only happens in hot blooded mammals.”

“There’s only one hot blooded mammal I’m interested in,” I said, taking his hand.

Robby grinned at me, making me quiver happily inside just a little. We held hands like that until we got back down to the washed out footbridge. We climbed back over the downed tree trunk to the other side.

As we started back down toward the lake, it started to sprinkle. We both looked up.

“Damn,” I said. “The forecast said it wasn’t supposed to rain this weekend.”

“Weather forecasting isn’t science,” said Robby. “It’s voodoo. Or blind guessing. I swear they’re wrong as often as they’re right.”

“You didn’t happen to bring a rain jacket or an umbrella or anything did you?”

“Sure. I’ve got one of those cheap plastic ponchos that folds up really compact. Unfortunately, I left it in my backpack in the tent.”

“So, mister coyote,” I said. “Do we try to find a tree to hide under and stay dry, or do we run for it?”

“If it starts raining hard, or rains for a long time, we’ll just be delaying the inevitable if we hide under a tree. How long you think it’ll take us to run back to the tent?”

“Don’t know. It’s down hill all the way to the lake. That should be a lot faster than hiking up. I wasn’t really paying attention to how long it took us to get here.”

“Well,” said Robby. “We ain’t getting any dryer standing here talking about it.” He tapped me on the head. “Woof, woof.”

He bolted down the trail. Grinning like an idiot, I pounded after him. I thought we were going to make it until we got to the main trail down by the lake. We were laughing and running. On the open trail I caught up to him quickly. It started to rain harder then, and there were fewer overhanging branches on the wider path next to the lake to block some of the water.

“Some boy scouts we are,” I panted as we huffed along the trail, getting wetter by the minute.

I’m pretty strong, I guess, from the kind of work I do. But my endurance for distance running left a lot to be desired. I soon started to slow down, and Robby pulled ahead of me again.

“Come on, Stud Boy,” said Robby over his shoulder. “You can make it.

“Woof, woof,” I said, making a valiant effort to keep up with him.

We jogged past three people standing under a large cedar tree trying to stay dry. I waved at them. I’m sure they thought we were maniacs, running through the rain.

In the end, it was just as well we ran for it. The rain only got worse and worse. If we’d have stayed under a tree up by the stream, we’d have been pretty miserable. Naturally, when we got back to the tent, our towels were still hanging on a line tied between two trees, where we’d left them to dry after we’d showered in the morning. They were soaked now, along with the other towel I’d been using to clean us up after sex.

We stood, dripping, under the tent awning. Robby did his best dog imitation by shaking his head back and forth to get some of the water out of his hair. I peeled my soaked tee shirt off over my head and wrung it out. We were soaked, but I wasn’t all that cold after running all that way.

“Mmm,” said Robby. “Anyone ever tell you how sexy you look with wet pants clinging to your ass that way?”

I started to shiver. Now that we had stopped running, I was getting cold fast.

“Maybe so,” I said. “But I’m freezing my sexy ass off. I think we should get some dry clothes on before one of us gets pneumonia or something.”

“You’re right. Pneumonia would not be sexy. I’ve got a beach towel we can dry off with. It doesn’t look like I’m gonna be able to lay out in the sun today.”

I laughed and unzipped the flap of the tent. “Probably not.”

We went in the tent to dry off and wait out the rain.

(To be continued.)

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