By George Gardner

 Ben is the Scottish word for mountain. It's also the name of the guy I met one evening up in the West Highlands. I was staying a couple of nights in Kyle of Lochalsh before driving further north and, as it was a beautiful warm summer's evening, I drove up into the hills to watch the sunset.

 Among other things.

 I'd been travelling around the west coast taking photographs for a new travel guide. At the same time, I'd also sneaked some shots of some hunky guys I'd seen in the course of this work. I'd chatted to some of them  - even got a couple of them to do some quite risqué posing - but nothing further had developed. As a result, however, my cock was now ready for a bit of relief and I was quite looking forward to a good long, slow wank away from it all. My cock was semi-hard as I turned off into a secluded lay-by but I wanted this to last a bit so I left it alone and got out of the car. The view was incredible, out across the narrow straight (kyle) to the Isle of Skye and beyond to the deep blue waters of the Atlantic.

 As I was drinking in the sight, I heard the crunch of footsteps on the gravel. I turned and saw a youngish guy, maybe in his mid thirties, approaching. He was wearing trekking gear - camouflage trousers, drab T-shirt, boots and carrying a huge rucksack on his broad back. My cock was still fairly hard and it showed a bit of a bulge in my shorts. I couldn't very well try to cover up or he'd have noticed so I just nodded to him.

 "Hi," he said.

 "Nice evening." I replied.

 "Hope it keeps up," he said, "D'you think I could set up here for the night?"

 I looked around.

 "There're no signs saying you can't."

 "That's great 'cos I'm whacked," he said, wriggling out of the straps of his rucksack.

 He set it down on the grass and sprawled against it. He was quite a hunk by any standards. About six two, blond hair, bright blue eyes and a smile that made my head spin. He was well muscled without being overdeveloped and there was a nice bulge in his crotch.

 "I'm Ben," he said.

 "Jack," I said, going over and offering him my hand.

 He took it and shook firmly. For a second he looked straight at my crotch. Quite blatantly and unashamedly. He said nothing so I didn't comment. I didn't mind being checked out by this guy.

 "You on holiday?" he asked.

 "No such luck," I replied. "I'm on an assignment up here."

 "Yeah? What do you do?"

 "Photographer. I'm doing shots for a travel guide."

 "Oh? You do any other kind of pictures?"

 He smiled at me mischievously as he asked.

 "Once in a while, yes," I said with a grin. "You interested?"

 "I might be," he said, squinting up at me. "You into other guys?"

 There was no point in denying it.

 "Yes," I said.

 "Thought so," he said sagely. "You got a bit of a boner there."

 "I know," I said a bit testily.

 "Sorry if I interrupted..... you know?"

 "It's a free country."

 "Maybe we could help each other out, if you like."

 I stared down at him.

 "I've got no hang ups, Jack," he went on. "I like older guys. They know what they're at."

 "I'm only forty-five!" I protested.

 "And very cute with it," he said with a laugh. "Come on down here and let's get to know each other a bit."

 I didn't hesitate for long and went and sat down beside him. He fished an old, battered baccy tin out of his pocket and proceeded to roll a cigarette which he offered to me. I'd quit smoking three weeks previously but I took it anyway. He rolled another for himself and then lit them with a well-used Zippo lighter.

 "So, you always been queer?" he asked.

 "That's the general consensus," I said. Boy was he direct!

 "Me too," he said with a nod. "Never met just the right guy, though. You?"

 "Nah. Came close once, I suppose, but he turned me in for a newer model."

 "That's sad, " he said. "Age doesn't matter. What the guy is is what matters. I'm sorry."

 "I got over it," I said wryly. "Anyway I've gotten used to my own company now."

 "You'd still go for it, though - if you met the right guy?"

 "I don't know," I confessed. "It wasn't the first time I'd gotten hurt. I think I'd need to be pretty sure before I dived in again."

 He reached up and ruffled my hair.

 "I think you will," he said. "You seem like an okay guy to me. I like you."


 "Yeah sure, why not?"

 "No reason, I suppose."

 "You either take to someone or you don't," he said matter of factly. "You're okay."

 There was an air of sincerity about him. How odd, I thought. I did sort of like him. He was forward and direct but I liked it.

 "D'you want me to give you a hand setting up?" I asked.

 "That'd be great," he said. "Thanks. I've been on the road since six this morning. I'm bushed."

 "No problem."

 "So why not go the whole hog?" He said. "We'll get set up. I'll make us something to eat. We can watch the sun go down and then you can stop the night with me. If you want to, of course. I'm not pushing you."

 "I'd like that," I said quietly. "I really would. You sure you want me to stay?"

 "I'm not that tired," he said with a grin. "Anyway, I could do with a bit of ...mmm.... company."

 "Yes, I suppose I could, too," I sighed. "It's been a while, Ben."

 "Then I better make it good for you, hadn't I."

 The look in his eyes as he spoke wasn't pity or anything like that. All I saw was a genuine desire to make me feel good. A really nice guy, I thought.

 He unpacked his gear and I helped him to erect the tent. As we worked  he'd occasionally slap my rear or gently grope my crotch. He was like a big kid and I began to feel quite uninhibited myself. Before too long we were both laughing and giggling and fooling around with each other like schoolboys. I had an enormous erection by this time but I was enjoying myself so much that I wasn't paying too much attention to it. I could clearly see that Ben was hard as well where the front of his trousers bulged out strongly.

 Suddenly, he pounced on me and pinned me down on my back. He sat astride me and smiled as I lay, panting, beneath him.

 "I think you need a little relief," he said. "So's later will last longer."

 "Do what you like," I panted." I'm about ready to cream my shorts anyway.

 "Good boy," he said, beginning to stroke my throbbing cock through my pale blue shorts. "That does it for me every time."

 He leant down and kissed me warmly and gently. I returned his kiss willingly and slowly slid my hands down on to his gorgeous rear. He rewarded the touch with a longer and deeper kiss. I felt his tongue gently probe between my teeth and I allowed him free access, giving back as good as I was getting.

 "You're a great kisser," he said softly. "I guess I'd like to shoot, too."

 "That'll do it for me," I chuckled.

 "Together," he said. "You cream those shorts, I'll cream these pants and we'll see who makes the biggest splash."

 Just like kids, but I was well up for it.

 He came down on me and our lips met and mingled once more. He eased his abdomen up slightly so I could get to his cock and I felt him begin to stroke mine in earnest. He thrust down gently against me as I stroked and I could feel his dick jerk occasionally as he neared release.

 "You ready?" he asked.

 "Yes," I said through gritted teeth. "Yeah, I'm coming."

 "Good boy."

 He came down on me and our lips ground together in passion as our cocks simultaneously erupted. I could feel his cum spurting out inside his pants. I felt it slowly seep through to the outside and begin to trickle through my fingers. I felt my own soaking into the front of my briefs and into the thin material of my shorts. Ben didn't break off from the kiss straight away. For a minute or so afterwards he continued to rain little pecks on my face and mouth and forehead. I held on to him tightly and stroked his back and his arse and his soft, blond hair. he was a very tactile and affectionate guy.

 At last he sat up, still straddling me, and grinned down at me. He looked at the wet area on the front of my shorts and then at the similar area on his trousers.

 "Looks like a tie to me," he said.

 I carried out my own examination and concurred.

 "Okay, round one's a dead heat," he said, getting to his feet and helping me to mine. As I stood, he put his arms round me and hugged me close to himself and kissed me warmly again.

 "You fancy going for a couple of beers?" he asked. "I'll get cooking while you're gone."

 "What? Like this?" I said pointing to my soggy shorts.

 He stood back and stroked his chin thoughtfully, his eyes dancing with mischief.

 "Looks fine to me," he said. "Hot!"

 "That's as maybe," I said with a smile, "but I am not going into the beer-off in comey shorts, mate."

 "Okay, I've got some jeans in my sack that should fit you. But you have to wear them over those. No taking them off."

 I punched him affectionately on the shoulder.

 "Yes, okay. I'll go for that."

 "Good. Get going then. We're wasting fun time."

 So I pulled on the faded old Levis he gave me and set off to get the beer. Being inside his jeans didn't half get me going again and I had to sit in the car or a few minutes outside the shop to let things settle down. I bought the beers and picked up a few other things I thought he could use. If he was going to feed me I felt I ought to replenish his stores.

 The sun was low down in the sky when I got back to him. There was a delicious aroma of sausages and bacon in the air as I approached the tent. Ben was sitting cross-legged on the ground tending the frying pan. As I got close he stood up and came to meet me. He held me once more and kissed me.

 "All ready, Jack," he said. "What've you got in there?"

 "I brought you a couple of things - sausages and stuff. I didn't want you going short."

 "You didn't have to do that, buddy," he said. "Thanks. That's real nice of you."

 "It's a long time since anyone was this nice to me," I said. "I wanted to."

 "Come and eat," he said, putting his arm round my shoulders. "The sun's about to set. We can watch while we eat, yeah?"

 So we sat out in front of the tent and watched the sun take its fiery plunge into the ocean. I felt strange, sitting there beside Ben, eating the doorstep-thick sandwiches he had made. I'd only met him an hour or so ago and yet I felt that I'd known him all my life. He opened a couple of the cans and handed one to me. I took a deep draught and let my head rest on his shoulder. I felt his head rest down on mine and I felt sad. Come the morning we would go our separate ways and we'd likely never see each other again.

 For a while we lay together on the soft grass and just talked. Ben was an interesting man - a bio-chemist with degrees and everything. He had been born in Scotland but had lived most of his later life in America. He had only a little bit of an accent but he had picked up the American version of English.  He'd come home this year because he wanted to see the land of his birth and had decided that the only way to do that properly was to walk. Contrary to popular belief, summers in Scotland can be very warm - and dry - and the summer evenings are long and filled with changing wonders and beauty as the sun makes a leisurely descent to the horizon. There's nowhere on Earth quite like it. I'm biassed, of course. I'm a Scot born and bred.

 "How'd you find out you were queer?" ben asked me.

 "I was about sixteen, " I recalled. "I was fooling about with one of my mates and it just sort of happened. I'd always been fascinated by men, though. Something always seemed to draw my eyes to that bulge in the trousers. Guys with nice, pert little arses always got my attention as well. As for guys in swimming gear or briefs. Oh wow!"

 "I guess it was much the same for me," Ben said, wriggling up closer to me. "You'll have noticed I'm pretty up-front. I knew what I wanted and I just kept looking around till I found a guy who wanted the same. I was fourteen."

 "Precocious little bugger!"

 "That's me," he chuckled. "I was really into science and math at school. Screwed my way through uni but I still got my masters."

 "So what do you like in a guy?"

 "Oh much the same as you. Really, I'm more into personality than anything else. The cutest guy in the world couldn't get a rise out of me if he was an asshole - sorry, arsehole - I forgot where I was for a minute."

 "I think I've forgotten what planet I'm on," I said. "You are such a nice guy, Ben."

 "I'm just me," he said. "I can't be anyone else."

  We snuggled up closer as darkness began to steal down the mountainside. Venus burned brightly above the Cuillins and the night creatures began to stir in the bracken. We began to kiss and caress each other again and my cock rose rapidly to the occasion. Ben let me do whatever I liked with him, he just lay and smiled and encouraged me. His cock was long and quite slender where it strained inside his trousers. He would reach out once in a while and give me some attention but he seemed quite happy just to let me enjoy myself. After a while, he took over and I lay back and let him explore my body in the same way I had explored his. He was very gentle and I loved it.

 "I need to take a leak," he said.

 "So do I," I said. "It's the beer."

 "Yeah? You up for some kinky stuff, maybe?"

 "Like what?"

 "Like -  I take a leak in my pants while you stroke it for me?"

 I wasn't sure. I knew having a good piss after having to hold on to it was almost as good as sex but I'd never done anything like this.

 "Is it good?" I asked.

 "I think it's cool," he said. "Makes me really horny. I won't push you, Jack."

 "Don't knock it until you've tried it, I'm told," I said. "I'm game."

 Ben helped me to my feet and turned round until his back was to me. I put my arms round him and he let his head fall back until it rested on my shoulder, his beautiful face looking skyward and bathed in the dying light.

 "Stroke it for me, Jack," he whispered. "Be gentle."

 I let my hand wander down on to his crotch and began to stroke his cock and balls. He relaxed against me and I felt his hand grip my free arm.

 "That's so good," he said. "I can't hold it much longer."

 "You've been holding it?"

 "Yes," he said. "I sort of hoped you'd be up for this. It's better if you hold it until you can't any more."

 I continued my gentle caressing and he moaned softly and rubbed against my crotch with his cute, round arse.

 "That's it," he said at last. "Can't hold it any more."

 I felt his cock swell as his piss escaped from his bladder. The hot flood erupted out of him and into his trousers. I felt it run over my hand. I could hear it hiss as it impacted on the fabric. My cock sprang up like a ramrod and I stroked and kneaded him with renewed fervour as the outpouring continued. Suddenly he stopped and kept quite still for a moment.

 "You care to join me?" he asked.

 "I think I do," I said.

 He turned round and faced me. Then he knelt down and gently pulled me down with him.

 "Lie on top," he said. "Let our piss get mixed."

 "You want me to pee on you?"

 "In my jeans and on to me, yeah. It's okay. you'll see."

 "Okay," I said.

 "Keep some. I want to see you piss in those shorts you got on."

 "If you like," I said. "If .........  you let me see you piss in your underwear?"

 Who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks?

 "It's a deal," he chuckled.

 I lay down on top of him as instructed and felt his piss soak through the jeans, my shorts and my briefs. It was enough to set me off. I let go and pissed for all I was worth. It felt so good I couldn't believe it. I stopped briefly and sat up so that it ran down around my balls and around my backside. I had never felt the like. There was just about enough light left for me to see his erect cock tenting out the soaking wet fly of his trousers. I stopped and slowly eased myself up. I unfastened the jeans and shoved them down until he could see my shorts underneath.

 "Wow," he said quietly. "That's horny, my friend."

 I let go some more piss and watched it splatter down on to his crotch. He began to rub it into himself with both hands, writhing beneath me in pleasure. I stopped again and he took his cue. He slid out from under me and very slowly unzipped his trousers. He was teasing but I loved it. Slowly he lowered them until I could see a pair of soggy white briefs imprisoning a semi-hard cock. I lay back and motioned for him to get on top.

 "You sure?" he asked.

 "Get on with it!"

 He grabbed the jeans by the legs and hauled them off me then he straddled my crotch and I saw his piss begin to flow again into his briefs. It poured down and on to my shorts, trickling and tickling it's way around my balls and backside with hot, sensual caress. It was so intense I almost shot my load but I managed to keep control. I shoved my shorts out of the way and let him see the tight grey briefs I was wearing underneath. They were a favourite wanking pair but this was the hardest workout they'd ever had.

 "I like those," he said.

 He pulled me up and we knelt together, our dicks tight against each other, and we both pissed until we were empty. By the time I was done, my dick was like iron. I could feel Ben's, just as hard, jerking against me. I knew he was about to come so I slipped my hand inside his pants and began to jack him off. He sealed his lips against mine and I felt his hand take my cock and start to jack it also. My dick was jumping like a salmon in his grip and I knew I would only last a few moments of this. Ben went rigid and he sent his tongue almost to the back of my throat. He thrust hard against me and I felt his cock pulse again and again as he came. His come ran over my hand like before and I eased off my strokes so I wouldn't cause him discomfort. He was breathing hard but he kept up his stroking of me.

 "Come on, guy," he whispered. "Come for me. Cream those pants, man."

 I felt myself go over the edge. I pulled him as tight as I could against me and I erupted into my sodden, grey briefs. I'd never felt such a release. It seemed to go on and on. Ben eased off as I had done for him and he went back to kissing and stroking me as I relaxed.

 "That was great," he whispered. "God, you're one hot guy."

 We lay down on the grass again and snuggled up together.

 "Hark who's talking," I said. "I've never come like that in my life before."

 "You still going to sleep the night with me?"

 "Try and stop me, mate," I said.

 "It doesn't have to be the end, you know," he said almost shyly.

 "You want some more?"

 "A lot, Jack. I think I want to see a lot more of you. You've done something to me, guy. Big time."

 I was stunned. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?

 "I was thinking earlier," I said. "I felt quite sad that we might never see each other again."

 "Me too," he said quietly. "But it doesn't have to be."

 "How long are you staying in Scotland?"

 "A few more weeks. It's sort of open-ended."

 "I'm up this way for another two weeks then I have to go back to Glasgow. I've got two weeks holiday then."

 "So how about this. I can hang around with you, maybe. I could carry your cameras or whatever. We go back to Glasgow and then you'n me take off back up here and then we can see what happens."

 "You don't hang about, do you?" I said with a laugh. "But you have to go back to the US, don't you?"

 "Maybe not. I got an offer to do research in Edinburgh. I could do that."

 "You'd stay? For me?"

 "For both of us, Jack. What d'you say? You've got nothing to lose."

 "I don't suppose I have, " I said, resting my head on his shoulder. "If we've got a chance then it would be plain stupid to toss it away. Yes. Let's do it."

 He leant down and kissed me warmly.

 "Thanks," he said. "You won't regret  it, Jack. I promise."

 "You might," I chuckled.

 "No way," he said.

 We lay together a while longer, not wanting to break apart, but it was getting colder.

 "There's a stream just over there," Ben said. "We can clean up and then I'm taking you to bed."

 "You have been away for a long time," I said. "Stream?"

 "You're right," he said, smacking my head. "Okay, so it's a burn, arsehole."

 We went and got cleaned up in the freezing cold water, a lot of which got thrown over each other. Ben led me by the hand back to the small tent and we both cuddled up, naked, into his sleeping bag. Soft moonlight filtered through the tent and lit Ben's face with its silvery glow. I nestled my head on his shoulder and let my hand play idly amongst the hairs on his chest. His hand gently stroked my backside and we lay there happily together.

 "Jack?" he whispered.

 "I'm awake."

 "love you."

  I knew he meant it because that's the sort of guy he is. Five years on he still says it to me and he still means it just as much as he did that night. As for me, well, I couldn't love him any more if I tried. I never even had to try, I just did. Right from the word go. Just goes to show, doesn't it?


©2003 George Gardner