Date: Wed, 11 Feb 2004 15:54:44 -0800 (PST)
From: Pendragon <pendragon03301@yahoo.com>
Subject: Waiting for Jason 4

The group started peeling away for the evening. A few guys hung around
but the brewing storm was going to break soon.

I went back to where I had dozed off while sitting with Marty and picked
upmy empty iced tea bottle on the ground, ready to head home, hopefully
in advance of the storm.

Too late. A rippling crackle of lightning followed by a long, slow,
protracted rumble of thunder shook the ground and rolled away, echoing
into the woods. The sky had become yellow-purple, an awesome but scary
sight. This was going to be a whopper.

Big, heavy drops began to splatter on the grass and leaves and an eerie
wind lifted the tree branches and turned the leaves flip-flapping upside
down. Another peal of thunder and a sudden nearby crack of lightning
meant I had to move now or face instant death or total soaking. I could
see the rain coming like a wall along the ridge. This was the real thing.

I bent down and grabbed the glass bottle as a candy wrapper blew past. I
grabbed for it, missed, took a step and caught it. Underneath was a
wallet, thin, brown, and almost empty. I flipped it open: Marty's! It
must have fallen out of his pants when he was wrestling with Bear. I
looked toward the woods where I had seen him enter. He was gone and the
storm unleashed its wrath on me.

I was instantly soaked to the skin and ran over the hill to my car as
wind, rain, hail, thunder and lightning swirled around me. Midwest storms
can be absolutely breathtaking, but it's always better to be dry inside
watching instead of running headlong into the driving wind.

I snatched open the door and piled inside, slamming the door behind me
and gasping for breath. The car was instantly fogged inside and the rain
streamed off me and puddled on the seat and around my feet. Despite the
warmth I shivered.

Another roll of thunder rumbled past and the rain came down so hard I
couldn't see across the road. I started the car and turned on the wipers
and the heat to clear the windows. Leaves, branches and debris flew past
the windows and the rain came down in sheets.

Awesome. I peeled off my soaked polo shirt and leaned back into the seat,
using my hand as a squeegee to dry my chest and stomach. My hand
continued down to my crotch; I was as hard as a rock. I gave my cock a
sustained squeeze and then popped open my pant tops and slid down the
zipper. I was going commando style that day, so I slid my hand around my
cock and gave a few tugs, pulling my balls free and sliding my pants down
enough to allow my ass to enjoy the warm leather seat.

A good storm always made me hard, even when I was a little kid. Must be
something about the unbridled power and sensuality of feeling rain and
wind on bare skin.

I glanced into the passenger seat and realized I had tossed Marty's
wallet there. I flipped it open and made a quick inventory of the
contents: license, a few tattered business cards, a few singles, and a
scrap of paper with an unknown name and phone number. I knew Marty was
frugal, but this was a wasteland of information.

The wind died down and the rain slowed to a steady sprinkle. That's the
thing about these powerful storms: they brew all day, unleash their fury
in ten or fifteen minutes, then settle into a gentle, soaking rain that
does some good. I could see Marty's car ahead of mine in the now-empty
roadside parking area. Not another car, person, dog, squirrel or other
sign of life anywhere in sight.

What to do with Marty's wallet? Eventually he'd miss it then become
frantic trying to find it. I zipped up, got out of my car and trotted
over to Marty's battered old silver Toyota. It was locked! Marty never
locked his car. I tried all the doors: locked. I couldn't take a chance
of leaving on the hood or on top of a tire. He'd never see it or,
worse, someone else might.

The rain felt splendid on my skin. It was still hot as hell and the rain
was like standing in a shower. I thrust my head back, closed my eyes and
opened my mouth, letting the pure rainwater splatter on my face and
quench my thirst. The steady drops ran down my chest, followed my
treasure trail into my pants and trickled through my crotch and down my
legs. Damn it was sexy. I was getting hard again.

Looking around, making sure nobody was nearby; I slid my pants down
around my hips, exposing my pubes and the top of my cock. My ass
scrunched against Marty's car and I slid it along the slippery metal,
getting harder and hornier. This simply couldn't wait until I got home.
I hiked up my pants and headed back over the hill, thinking I might just
slip into the woods for a quick wank. I love spraying my hot seed all
over the ground outside. There's something so decadent but freeing about
it.

As I walked past the spot where the group had been only a half hour
before, I realized I still had Marty's wallet in hand. But where was
Marty? I knew he had gone into the woods but he apparently hadn't come
out.

I know I shouldn't have, but my curiosity got the better of me. I
decided to find him, Jason or no Jason, in the woods.

I slid down the rest of the hill and hopped across the road that had
become a small river after the downpour. Mud, small rocks and pebbles
showed the strength of the torrent and I could hear water crashing onto
the rocks below from the storm sewers. These gully washers could move
mountains in a few minutes, so I wasn't surprised at the amount of muck
swilling about.

I squelched my way through the meadow and headed for the tree line where
the path entered the woods. The rain had washed away any trace of
footsteps but, based on his description, I figured Marty -- and if it was
Jason -- had retraced their steps and gone back over the ledge into the
secret woods below.

Sure enough, I saw two sets of boot prints smashed into the muddy track
heading down into the gully. The rocks and roots that formed the stairway
were slick and treacherous and I damn near killed myself getting to the
lower level. I was now beyond drenched and my pants were so heavy with
rainwater that it was hard to walk. What the hell, I thought, and I slid
them off, squeezed them out and carried them in one hand as I ducked
under the branches and followed the trail buck naked.

I came to the honeysuckle circle and saw more fresh but fading boot
prints that headed further into the woods. This was so hot! My boner grew
back to full length as I slipped along the muddy path, searching for
Marty. I walked a long way, at one point crossing a raging, narrow stream
that no doubt an hour ago had been bone dry. Deep prints in the mud on
the other side --- footprints now, no longer boots -- went ahead along
the trail; interesting and compelling evidence that Marty had found him.

The branches were vexing, weighted down with water, making it hard to see
very far along the path. Steam was rising from the woods and undergrowth
as the storm moved away and the rain slowed to a fine spray.

I stopped to wipe my face and gave my cock a couple of tugs to keep
myself hard. I took a deep breath and took a step when I heard a deep
sigh-moan that could only mean one thing: somebody was having some hot
fun in the wet woods.

Marty had found Jason.

I took another step and rounded a small bend. There they were. One was
bent over obviously deep dicking the other, but I couldn't tell who was
who because the leaves obscured my view. My cock was leaking precum like
a faucet.

I heard Marty say a hushed "Oh, yeah," and I took another step. The
tiny snap under my left foot sounded like a gunshot and I stopped dead in
my tracks. But they had heard it and an unknown voice called out,
"Who's there?"

Then I saw Marty glance back down the trail. He couldn't have seen my
face but I know he saw my pulsing cock. His grin flashed and he cupped
his hand and flicked his fingers backward twice.

It was an invitation I couldn't refuse.

To be continued

Comments welcome at pendragon03301@yahoo.com