Date: Tue, 23 Dec 2003 13:12:53 -0800 (PST)
From: Pendragon <pendragon03301@yahoo.com>
Subject: Frolic in the Woods

I love outdoor sex. I've loved it since I was a young teen and my best
friend and I would wander the fields and woods near his house. We'd get
naked and jerk off every season of the year. Ever since I've always
seemed to be able to find outdoor places where guys go for quick outdoor
fun.

The best times I've had in recent years have been in a secluded spot in
New England along a river near a small, rural town. It's a fairly well
known spot, and it's been an active outdoor for gay, straight, bi, and
lesbian outdoor sex for decades.

It's not an easy hike. The trail goes along a steep ravine path, with a
tumble of 20 or more feet to the bottom of the riverbed if you miss your
footing. But the walk is worth the effort.

The first swimming hole is for the local kids and families. It's very
deep, surrounded by steep rock ledges, and a conveniently placed tree
offers a perfect spot for a swinging rope into the deep pool.

A few hundred yards upriver is a series of rocky and sandy beaches that
are mostly dedicated to hetero and bi nudist couples. I've heard there
can be some fun in the woods but it's too close to civilization for my
taste and I prefer the fare upriver.

The third watering hole is devoted to lesbians only. I've seen some hot
women and some hot action on the other side of the river as I hiked
along. I've also seen some things that looked like beached whales dying
in the surf -- not pleasant at all.

The fourth and fifth swimming holes are paradise.

The fourth hole has a long, deep pool with a slow current and convenient
sunning ledges on the western side. The eastern side is graced with a
superb sandy beach, hidden from the path by trees and dense undergrowth.
It's often a first stop to check out the action or a last stop for some
quick relief on the way home. Either way, it's relatively tame; some
guys go there just to get naked, relax in the sun, read, chat, or swim.
Nice.

But if you want a frolic in the woods, it's time to cross the small
river. Depending on the season it can be relatively easy or dangerous;
and the rocks are always slippery. Once across, you enter paradise:
small, sandy beaches; large flat, sun-drenched rocks; cooler, shaded
alcoves in the underbrush; and about 40 acres of woods and trails along
the river and above the flood plain.

I've never been disappointed there. Sometimes I've gotten there early
in the day and a few times later in the afternoon as most of the guys
were heading out. I've seen it overrun with nearly 100 guys and have
shared the solitude with one or two others.

One August night I camped out and damned near froze to death; it got down
to 33 degrees! In August! But, that's New England.

My favorite time was last summer. I managed to get a day off from work --
a steamy Thursday in July, I think -- and headed for the river. It's
about an hour and a half drive, so it means a commitment once the
decision is made. I packed up the truck, bought some snacks and headed
out. The drive is one of my favorites in the U. S.: a two-lane highway
most of the way, winding through piney woods, along deep river gorges,
through tiny villages.

I got there about noon, hiked my way in (passing more that a few other
folks heading for the swimming holes on this hot July day) and reached
the beach at the upper swimming hole in time for a quick dip, a snack of
bread, cheese, and fruit, and a short nap in the shade.

About 2 p.m. the action always picks up. It's almost as if an alarm goes
off in everyone's crotch. Maybe it's the pheromones released as the
guys hike up the trails into the woods.

On this day there was a nice mix of fellows. Sometimes it can be only
populated with older guys -- most nice, some hot, and some you wonder how
they walked this far without dying. Others times it's overflowing with
twinks from Boston who ready to let you know they are too good for
everyone.

The woods crackled with excitement as I walked along the paths. There
are three or four main paths in the woods, with lots of little side paths
and hiding places in the underbrush. I generally start along the "main
highway" through the center, watching right and left to spot any action
in the woods. Reaching the end of the quarter-mile path I turn left,
heading back to the beach along the bluffs -- River Road, I call it --
seeking any interesting guys along the trail or peering below along the
river plain where the alders provide plenty of coverage.

(A couple of years ago I watched two very hot guys get it on for almost
an hour as I sat naked, rock-hard, and dripping on the ledge above,
slowly stroking myself at the edge of orgasm. Not long after they
finished -- when they glanced up, horrified that I had seen them! --
another hot guy about my age sat down next to me and sucked me all the
way to the root. I blew a huge load in record time, as did he.
Apparently, he had been watching me watch the other guys and he was as
turned on as I was.)

After touring the River Road I headed for the hillside path, a long,
winding path at the base of a formidable bluff. Sometimes it's possible
to hook up along here. But it was empty today. I know I had seen lots of
guys going into the woods. Where were they?

I turned around and headed back toward the river, then turned a sharp
right into the deeper woods. Ah, plenty of traffic here. I sat down on an
old stump, flicked a Winston out of my shorts pocket (I always carry my
shorts along, just in case) and waited for the traffic to pass.

I was not disappointed. As I crushed out my smoke a very hairy 50ish guy
with a shaved head and an enormous dick straining out of a tight cock
ring stopped in front of me and shook his prong in my face. "Hey," he
said. "Hey, back," I responded, slurping his cock into my hot mouth.

"Mmmmm," he crooned. "Nice." I worked him for a few minutes but it
wasn't doing much for me. He was big but almost lifeless. I spat him out
and grabbed his hardon in my fist, spitting on his cock head as I speeded
up my jerking. He started rocking his hips back and forth and stiffened
his legs. I didn't think he had any spunk in him.

His huge cock was bloated and deep purple. I briefly wondered if his cock
ring was too tight and that he might hurt himself, when he gave a muffled
bellow and spewed gobs of cum all over the forest floor. I fingered his
throbbing prick and wiped the last few dribbling gobs from his pee hole
before wiping my hands on his thighs.

"Damn," he gushed. "I really needed that. Thanks, man," he said as he
wobbled away, stripping off the cock ring and flicking the last few drops
of cum from his dick.

I reached in my pocket to get another smoke when a thin, short guy, about
40, sandy-red hair and a flat, very white chest inched closer to me from
behind a nearby tree. I hadn't noticed him before but I noticed him now!
Before me was the dick of a champion: it had to be at least eight inches
long, not too fat, but perfectly shaped, with an uncut wrapper framing a
glistening pink head. It was beautiful and naturally hard.

He stood there, slowly stroking, and nodded. I put the cigarette back in
the box, and leaned forward, admiring his equipment. I nodded once and he
stepped right up and held his beautiful cock to my mouth. I slurped him
in and swallowed him all the way.

Now, I'm almost always a top and I have a really active gag reflex, but
this guy's cock slid right into my mouth and halfway down my throat
before I coughed and pulled back. Brushing the tears from my eyes, I
looked up at him and smiled. "Sweet," I said, as I went down on him
again, kneading his tiny, tight, sandy-hair covered as cheeks.

"Oh, shit," he said, and pulled out quickly to spurt a half dozen
powerful shots into the bushes behind my stump. His knees were visibly
shaking as he came down from his high and he wiped his sweat-soaked brow.
He smiled, said something silly, and left quickly, glancing over his
shoulder as he bolted from the woods. Hmmm. Two down and I've been here
less than a half hour.

I grabbed my shorts, lit a smoke, and walked away as a herd of uglies
headed my way. Time for a dash to another spot; I know I can outrun the
trolls, but what else is up here?

I made a quick march to another favorite spot where three paths intersect
deep in the woods. Nearby a nice hunky, early-40s guy leaned against a
tree and slowly wanked his nice but average-size prick. I stubbed out my
smoke and nodded. He smiled (something usually rare in predatory sex
places, but fashionable here in the woods) and started chatting. I sat on
a large, smooth boulder and we talked for a while about the weather, the
place, and the sex to be found today. He got harder as we talked and I
confess I was twitching, too, watching him pull himself a few feet away.

Others strolled by watching us but not interfering. We were talking, not
having sex, so we were off limits for the moment. Then he signaled to me
with his head that he wanted to move, and I followed, walking side by
side with him up the steep path to the next higher level of woods where
we might have a bit of privacy.

He said his name was Frank and he was a Canadian on holiday visiting
relatives in the area. Being from upstate New York, I agreed we had some
things in common as we took a seat on a large, flat, smooth, stone in a
pool of sun in the woods. He reached for my cock and I reached for his
and we slowly stroked each other to full hardness without being frantic.
We simply enjoyed the mutual feelings of hands rubbing hardons in the
woods.

After a while I bent over and licked his rod before slowly swallowing it,
moving my tongue along the underside all the way until I hit his pubes.
He groaned and hunched his hips, letting me know he liked what I was
doing. We played like this for a long time, stopping short of climax each
time. He tried blowing me but just didn't have the right technique to
get me hot, although I was hard the entire time.

Then as I sucked him in and played with his balls he started humping my
hand and mouth. I slipped a finger behind his balls and flicked his hairy
hole. "Arrrh," he cried and pushed onto my hand, briefly -- painfully
-- crushing it against the stone. I pushed up on his butt and he lifted
enough for me to scoot him forward a few inches so his ass was exposed
and my fingers could work without being destroyed.

I managed to slip two fingers into his tight, hot hole before his rocks
shriveled up into his ball sack. I lifted my mouth and pounded my fist
along his slippery pole until he shot four or five gooey ribbons of cum
all over my hand and his belly. He didn't shoot far but he dropped a
healthy load for an older guy. He collapsed on his back on the rock, his
cock pulsing and diminishing with his heartbeat. I watched and waited for
him to regain his breath and then he sat up. He grabbed for my cock but I
brushed his hand away. "Later," I said. "But . . .," he whined, and
I reassured him I was perfectly satisfied helping him achieve climax.

We chatted for a bit longer but I felt the need to move along. The
afternoon was waning and I wanted to explore some more. He wanted me to
come back to his motel with him, have dinner, spend the night. Geez. One
good blowjob and wank and he expected us to get married. I politely
declined and headed down the hill, scouting the horizon for telltale
signs of fun.

At the base of the hill I passed a really handsome young man: full, dark
brown beard, beautiful face, lean hairy chest with full, dollar-size dark
brown nipples, a lithe torso, and extra hairy legs. And the ugliest plaid
shorts I had ever seen. There was no doubt this 20-something hunk was
packing a prize in there but he wasn't letting anybody see it -- at
least not yet. He was obviously -- painfully -- shy and skittered away as
I locked my eyes on his. But he did look over his shoulder as he
disappeared into the woods; always a good sign.

I sat back on my favorite rock where the three paths intersect, lit
another smoke, and watched the parade pass by. More than a few hot dudes
surveyed my lean figure and nice semi-hard cock as they strolled past. I
nodded and exchanged pleasantries with a few. But I was getting itchy.
It was fully time for me to get off.

I rose from the rock, and turned left into the deep woods, almost
stumbling over beautiful beard. "Lose those damned plaid shorts," I
thought as we eyed each other, walking away. Looking back over my
shoulder at him I walked straight into a towering guy with a hairy chest
and a big, flaccid cock. "Oh, sorry!" I said, as we smiled at each
other.

"Little eye candy?" he asked, one eyebrow raised suggestively.

"Uh, huh," I confirmed. "Interested?"

"I've been following him for half an hour but he never stops walking. I
don't get it," he said.

"He's young, inexperienced, shy," I advised. "Maybe it's his first
time," I suggested.

"Oh, yeah," he drooled. "Wouldn't that be nice?"

We chuckled and moved along, searching for something enticing, although I
don't think either of us would object to getting together. Maybe later?

I made the grand tour, not seeing much of interest, occasionally catching
a glimpse of bearded guy, but otherwise unimpressed. Then I turned the
corner and saw a group of five guys jerking off over my favorite rock.
How dare they! I ambled that way and discovered that another, hitherto
unseen hottie, was seated on my perch and wanking a beautiful cut prick.
He was chiseled, had a handsome face and dark hair, and a smooth chest to
die for with erasure-size nipples.

He leaned back on the rock and pounded his perfect cock with pride as the
others stood around him in various stages of lust. He caught my eye and
waved me over and I slid between the others and dropped to my knees,
scrutinizing his cock and balls as he jerked away. I moved below his
moving hand and licked his big right testicle, making it squirm in his
shaved sack. He spread his legs further, inviting me closer, and I sucked
his nuts into my mouth one at a time, licking and slurping on his hot,
sweaty scrotum. He moaned and slid forward on the rock, exposing his
crack and hole. I licked further and he wriggled his butt to spread his
cheeks, leaving his bright red hole fully exposed. I licked and hit my
mark the first time; he sucked his breath in and held it, pounding his
rod faster.

I licked the tip of my finger and slid it in, replacing my tongue as I
licked my way along his distended cum tube to the oozing tip. I grabbed
his hand and slowed his fist, replacing it with my own as I sucked him
deep into my mouth. His legs stiffened and his toes curled as I bobbed up
and down, savoring each tiny pump of precum from his piss slit.

Behind me the crowd had grown to at least seven or eight men and I could
see more beyond the inner circle, wanking their cocks and fondling each
other. At last, I thought, a critical mass for an atomic cum explosion.

I knew my hottie was going to blow any minute, so I slipped my mouth off
his glistening cock and slid my hand up and down in a corkscrew motion,
dribbling spit and, no doubt, some of his pre, onto the tip. Slowly,
slowly, with just the right pressure and just the right twisting motion I
brought him to the edge. His butt hard and raised off the rock as he
arched his back and shot straight into the air -- once, twice, three
times with force, a half dozen more I suspect, but by then I was
distracted by the gobs of cum flying in our direction from the circle of
friends. One after the other they popped off, spewing cum everywhere, all
over us, all over each other, with grunts and groans and sighs.

The hottie on the rock collapsed on top of me and kissed my ear,
muttering nothing and everything as he crashed and burned. He shuddered,
grabbed my shoulder in a tight grip and shook it, brushing my face with
his other hand and leaning in to give me one of the sweetest-tasting
kisses I have ever had before he rose and walked off.

The cum-spent crowd broke up but I remained on my knees, tired but
satisfied. What a day! But I still hadn't gotten off. Damn.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him: the bearded cutie. I nodded
and he nodded back as another guy sat on the rock in front of me
squishing a silly little prick in my face, assuming I would service him,
too. I brushed him away, rose and stretched.

Another guy grabbed my half-hard cock and gave it a squeeze. I reached
behind me and discovered an admirable tool and turned toward him. We
half-heartedly pleasured each other as another crowd began to form.
These were the onlookers from the last encounter and they were hungry and
ready in the late-afternoon light.

As we groped and fondled one another, the bearded cutie hung at the edge,
just out of reach, playing with himself through the pockets of his horrid
shorts. From what I could see, he had something in there worth seeing. I
nodded, he nodded back, and I jerked my head sideways to invite him in.
He shook his head no and walked away. "Damn! What does he want?"

I was getting hotter but I wanted him only. He strolled to the other side
of the group and stopped. I watched and nodded again. He nodded back and
took a tentative step forward. "Yes." Then he stopped, frozen like a
deer caught in the headlights. Would he stay or would he bolt?.

I brushed the hands away from me and slowly moved toward him. He stood
stock still as I walked up to him and brushed the back of my hand against
his hairy left nipple. He made a tiny groan and slumped a bit, giving me
an excuse to place my left arm around his waist. He leaned into me and
rubbed his hairy belly against mine. This was heaven, I thought, as I
closed my eyes and inhaled his perfect man scent deep into my nostrils.

When I opened my eyes I realized that the group had reformed around us
and others were trying to touch him, but he brushed their hands aside
like gnats as I went to my knees, dragging his shorts down. His cock
sprang up as the waistband cleared and slapped against his hairy belly.
Fully eight inches long it was beautifully shaped with a glistening
mushroom head, surrounded by a dense forest of dark brown curly hair. His
ball sack was tight and hairy. As I cupped his balls they rolled around
in their crinkled sack; I hefted them and they were above average but not
stupendous. But the total package was!

I licked his rod, starting at the base of his balls all the way to the
tip that was spitting little bursts of crystal-clear precum. I lapped it
up -- sweeter that honey. His legs shook with tremors as I licked around
and up and down his shaft before taking his head in my mouth and closing
my lips. I stayed perfectly still as I let the feeling of my wet mouth
engulf him. He shuddered and groaned and I felt him fall back, looking up
to see another guy cradling him by the arms as I began sliding up and
down his twitching pole.

He regained his strength and stood, rigid with lust, and began slowly
pumping his cock into my mouth. I used my fist around his cock to form a
stop before I gagged, but I savored every thrust.

Someone reached down and brushed my hand away from my aching cock (I had
been jerking off as I sucked my beauty) and replaced it with an
incredibly hot mouth. Another hand rubbed my backside and lightly brushed
a finger against my hole -- never penetrating, merely heightening my
arousal -- while yet another rubbed my shoulders.

We hung in the balance for what seemed to be a long time but could have
been only minutes. I felt him stiffen in my mouth and I felt his hairy
calf stiffen in my grasp. He moved up onto his toes as he grew bigger in
my mouth. I almost never let a guy cum in my mouth, but today I made an
exception: he spilled his seed into me and I slurped every drop. He shot
again and again and the cum dribbled from my lips and dripped down my
chin, dropping in gobs onto a hand beating my rod. The sudden lubrication
took me over the edge and I yelped my release around his subsiding cock
as his spew continued to ooze into my overworked jaws.

We both simultaneously shook, shuddering from head to toe, as our mutual
climax came crashing down. I lapped at his messy crotch, smelling the
fresh cum mixing with his musky sweat, then sat back on my haunches and
looked around. At least a dozen guys were gasping in post-orgasmic
satisfaction. There were puddles of dried cum strewn all over the leaves
and forest litter.

I stood and he briefly gave me a shy hug me before reaching down and
pulled his shorts up. He almost ran from the woods as we watched -- like
watching a gazelle leap across the savannah.

We smiled at each other and shook our heads, quietly commenting on the
intensity and sheer beauty of the moment as we went our separate ways.

I got home late that night and tumbled into bed for sweet dreams filled
with my bearded beauty.

Comments are welcome at pendragon03301@yahoo.com