1 comments/ 27354 views/ 6 favorites By the Road By: XXNoraJeanXX "I was checking your computer history just now." Master said, finally coming back to his study. I was already waiting on my knees with my forehead pressed to the gleaming hardwood floor. I was of course completely naked, as I was most often. My ass facing the door as per his rules, and also as per his rules I had my butt plug tail in place. I didn't attempt to turn my head and look at him. I knew what was coming, since I had accidentally clicked a link that I knew he would have disapproved of. It had just popped up and I accidentally clicked it. It was pornographic. I wasn't allowed to look at porn online without permission, and my Master always checks my computer to make sure I follow his rules. I am not to hide anything, and I am well aware he is able to check up on me even if I was to attempt to hide anything from him. "Do you know what I found?" He asked. It was obvious we both knew. "Yes Master." I was quivering a little. I could sense he was quite upset with me. "What was it, slut?" "It was a video. A porn video of large black men having their way with a petite white woman, Master." I was honest. I hoped this would garnish some compassion from him. "May I explain, Master?" "Yes." He nodded while circling me. I forced myself to stay perfectly still and breathe as evenly as possible. I could see his shiny shoes as he walked near my face. I didn't dare look up. "I was on the website you mentioned to me about chastity belts, and I accidentally clicked a link to that video when it popped up. I closed it right away and did not watch it through. I am sorry, Master." I watched his shoes as he paced back and forth and around me. I could sense his mood. He believed me and I knew he did, but there was still going to be a punishment. I needed to be more careful and respectful. I both loved and loathed my Master's punishments. They were often very creative. Some were downright trials. "Go upstairs and use the washroom, shower, and then do your makeup and hair. Return to me here in no more than an hour ...the faster the better. Return to me nude save for your collar. No anal plug. Now get up and go." Master went behind his desk and sat down. He completely ignored me now, which was my signal to do as I was told. Forty minutes later I returned just as I had been instructed. I was about to drop into my previous position on the floor when he halted me. "No need, slut." He stood and came around his desk. He held my leash in his hand and quickly snapped it onto the round link on my collar. He began to walk and I followed as was expected. He walked with fast long strides and I had to speed walk to keep up. Master lead me to the front foyer of the house. The butler materialized with Master's hiking boots, but also a pair for me. My eyes rounded a little. Master handed me the pair intended for me, and I noticed thankfully that they have socks tucked into them. "Put them on." He said as he tugged his own pair onto his feet. Once we both had our boots on he turned and opened the front door. He had changed from his regular dress slacks and button down shirt, and was now dressed in jeans and a t-shirt along with his boots. I was completely nude except for the socks and boots and of course my collar. I wondered what the plan was. Master lead me outside into the warm late morning sunshine. He doesn't normally take me out front of the house nude since this is also where clients pull up and park. However, today the stables were closed. Master always closes the Stables on Wednesdays for maintenance and cleaning. Clients know better than to show up on a Wednesday, since Master will turn them away and none too nicely. He is strict with his business, and most speculate that this is why he commands so much respect in the world of horse breeding. I don't worry about his employees seeing me naked, as they are used to seeing me naked and I am used to this as well. In fact some of them Master has had me pleasure at times. He leads me down the stairs and into the driveway. I had no choice but to stay close and follow. I was thankful that he had hiking boots for me since the driveway was not actually paved. We started to walk down the long driveway in the direction of the main road. Master makes me walk in front of him. I know that I have to walk quickly. I was skeptical of his overall plan, but I trusted him and didn't feel any need to attempt to fight him. The driveway was long, maybe two miles, maybe even more. We walked and walked. Master didn't speak to me the entire time. His breathing was easy, since he was very fit and hiked often. My breathing was a bit more labored though I was fit too. The sunshine dappled my skin through the trees on either side of the driveway. It felt warm and delicious on my skin. Some bugs buzzed by and I worried a little about bites in awkward places. We continued to walk and walk and I knew we were almost near the main road. However, when I say main road it is really a very lightly traveled country road. We kind of live in the middle of nowhere. Finally we reached the point where our private driveway leads to the public, but also unpaved, road. I immediately see my custom made padded sawhorse that my Master often likes to use for me. I want to look at him for an explanation as to why it is by the road, but I don't dare look back at him. I feel nervous butterflies dance in my stomach. He brings me to a stop and links my leash to a hook on a tree. I watched his every move as he takes a backpack that had been left at the foot of the sawhorse and checks the contents. I can see by his expression that he is satisfied he has everything he needs. Placing the bag aside he returns to me and leads me to the sawhorse. I am quite familiar with this piece of equipment. Master had it made specifically for me. It is made for my height, and it was surprisingly made with comfort in mind. Sometimes, Master likes me to use it for extended amounts of time so it needed to be comfortable. "There is a bucket of water over there and a cloth. Wash yourself down, but be careful not to get your boots or socks wet." I got up and did as I was told. I washed myself down from our walk. Once I was done I stood quietly and awaited Master's next order. "Arrange yourself on your sawhorse so you are comfortable." I do as I am told, and I am as comfortable as it will allow. Master immediately uses the padded bonds to lock me to the sawhorse. I feel a little scared at this point. He has the backpack and it looking for items in it. I can't really see him from my locked position, but I can hear him. I startle a little as he sprays something cool onto my skin. I realize it's sunblock and I enjoy the sensation of his big hands rubbing it into my skin. After the sunblock he sprays a little bit of unscented bug spray onto my skin. I am started to get the feeling I would be spending a little time by the side of the road. Master places sunglasses onto my face which I am also grateful for. I am not in any direct sunlight, but he's taken precautions for my safety. Finally he moves back behind me. I hear the snap of a cap and then his finger his spreading cool slippery lube all over my pussy. Master doesn't normally require any lube there for me. I always get good and wet for him. My stomach quivers a little. What does he have in mind? What is going to happen to me? He shoves two lube slick fingers up my inside my cunt to make sure I am slippery and lubricated there as well. Once he is done lubrication my cunt his slippery fingers slide over my asshole. He puts a lot of lube there and I can feel it. His thick finger pushes against my asshole and slides in with ease. He lubricates me generously there. Then I hear him wash his hands in the water I had used to wash myself down after our hike. Master moves back in front of me. He's holding a sign that he shows to me. It reads "Free Fuck. Please fuck me," I can hardly believe what I am reading. He wouldn't really just let perfect strangers drive up and fuck me, would he? He will surely stay with me, right? He walks to the edge of the road and our driveway and pushes the sign into the soft ground there. Master collects his stuff and tucks it away. I feel a little panic rise up in me and want to beg him to just free me and take me home. I don't dare beg. I know better. I am not surprised as my Master starts to leave, heading back toward our house. I am not surprised but I am horrified. He can't just leave me here! Who might come along and find me? I really start to panic. I think of everything of course. What if a police officer was to happen onto these back roads? What if I criminal came by? It even dawns on me that a family could drive by and...I feel absolutely horrified. Master often comes up with creative punishments, but this one doesn't seem well thought out. I almost wanted to cry. I regain some composure after about twenty minutes. The truth of the matter is we live on a highly untraveled dirt road way back in the country. It is extremely rare that cars would just happen along back here. The odds of a family just driving by are highly unlikely. I am reasoning with myself now. The chances of anyone driving by are very unlikely. We are at the end of the dirt road too I realize. So, even if someone was looking for another address it was not like they would need to come up the road that far. Not to mention the stables were closed today, and clients also knew not to come here on a Wednesday. So, all and all I was now feeling pretty safe. All I had to do was relax and enjoy the warm day. I rested my head on the cushioned sawhorse and closed my eyes behind the sunglasses. I wasn't actually asleep, but just daydreaming a little. That's when I heard a vehicle. It sounded like a pickup truck if I had to guess. It rumbled up the road. I tried to look around to see if my Master was near watching. Would he come out and save me? I knew as soon as they got close the driver would have a clear view of the sign and of my ass and cunt. I couldn't see the road or the vehicle. Master had clearly done that on purpose. The truck was upon me now and I knew they would be able to see me just set back from the road ever so slightly. I knew they'd be reading the sign too. My heart tripped hard in my chest and my throat went dry. The truck slowed considerably, and the engine rumbled. I could tell when they came to a stop since the tires stopped crunching on the dirt road. A door opened, and then another door. They both slammed. I wanted to cry. I looked again for Master, but he was nowhere to be seen. "Lookie Lookie what we have here!" Came a male voice. "What do you think Georgie? She's got a pretty sweet ass, dontcha think?" "That she do." said the other voice, presumably Georgie. "Looks as if she's offering up free fucks." the first voice said. "That works out pretty nicely, Bud, since we'z got two big cocks that need some sweet ass." This was Georgie again. I knew this was going to happen. I resigned myself to it. I can't even be untruthful. I felt excited by these strange men happening upon me and seeing me like this. I felt excited by the idea of these two men using me. The nervous butterflies in my stomach turned to those of thrilled excitement. They came closer and I felt their hands slide over my skin. They didn't near my face right away so I couldn't see them, but they ran four hands over my back, my ass and then over my pussy. I whimpered softly when one of them slide a finger between my pussy lips and touched my sensitive clit. One came near my face while the other continued to rub me between my thighs. He bent a little so I could see his face. I didn't recognize him. "Well pretty little thing, my friend and I want to fuck you. Would that be alright with you?" It was the one called Bud. I recognized his voice. "Yes, Sir." I whisper. He nods and stands back up. "Give her what ya got, Georgie." I hear a zipper lower behind me. I wait, but don't have to wait long and soon I feel Georgie's thick cock slide inside my tight cunt. He's not incredibly long, but he's very thick. It feels good. I can also tell he doesn't have a condom on. His heavy hands hold my hips as he fucks me pretty hard. It feels good, and soon enough he is panting and grunting. I can tell he's going to explode soon. Bud's hands are on me and running over my skin as his friend uses my cunt. They don't talk to each other or to me. I can do nothing but take it. Georgie slams hard into my cunt a few more times and then sinks as deeply as he can get and let's loose his hot semen deep inside me. I feel both thrilled and disgusted by this stranger cumming inside me. Once again if I am to be honest I feel more thrilled than disgusted. Once Georgie is done cumming he pulls out. I don't see him but I know he moves back. Bud doesn't waste anytime. I hear his zipper come down, and then his cock takes the place that Georgie's cock just vacated. I am sure I am messy with Georgie's cum, but Bud doesn't seem to care. His cock is just as thick, but decidedly longer. He slides nice and deep and I can't help but groan with pleasure. He doesn't fuck me quite as hard as Georgie did. Bud seems to prefer long slow strokes. They feel quite amazing and I can actually feel an orgasm starting to build within me. However, my own release never gets to truly form as Bud cums rather quickly. He makes the strangest sounds when he cums, but all the same he dumps his load into my cunt just as Georgie had. I hear them both grunt a little as they zip up. "That was fucking great." says Bud. Georgie grunts in agreement. "Thank you, slut." I say nothing, but listen as the men leave me to go back to their truck. I hear the truck fire up, and then the men make a U turn and drive away. I can feel their cum leaking out of me. I am completely slippery and messy. I am certain that my Master will come back for me anytime. However, I was wrong. The warm air and the sound the wind in the trees kind of lulls me into sleep. I wake to the sound of a powerful engine coming up behind me. The vehicle stops. I can't tell if it is a car or truck, but it has a very powerful engine. One door opens and closes and then I can hear the footsteps of the driver coming toward me. "Well howdy!" The voice is male and has a definite drawl. He whistles, but then I hear the crackle of a radio or walkie talkie. Whatever it is he turns it down. "A slut just out here on the side of the road to be fucked. Imagine that." The man comes around to the front and my heart almost stops. It's clear from his uniform he is a country police officer. Even on private property I am certain Master and I are breaking laws. I want to cry out for Master. I wonder what will happen to me? Will this officer take me to jail? I am completely nude and leaking Bud and Georgie's cum! "I can see you have already serviced a couple fellas, haven't you slut?" The officer asks. "Yes, Sir." I don't know if I should admit this or not? "You've got a pretty pink pucker of an asshole. What do you think about servicing a police officer?" My eyes flick up at his face, but he has reflective sunglasses on. I can't see his eyes, but I can tell he wants to fuck me. "Yes, Officer." "Good girl." The officer walks to the back of the sawhorse. "Hooey, whoever already used you really dumped big loads into your sweet cunt, slut." I feel razor sharp excitement slide up my spine. I can only imagine how slutty and messy I must look. The officer unzips and I wait. I count to ten in my head and then I finally feel the thick head of his cock come to rest against my tight little asshole. I can still feel all the lubricant there so I am not worried about discomfort. The officer presses his hips forward and the head puts pressure on my asshole. At first my body resists. The muscle there holds tight, but I force myself to relax. I want this cock to slide up inside my asshole. Finally I feel the muscle dilate and his head is inside me. The officer grunts, but so do I. His strong fingers dig into my hips as he pushed hard. His cock slides deep. His cock feels long, but not very thick. He feels very deep in my asshole. I am not surprised when he fucks me hard and fast. He shows no mercy for my little asshole as he plunders it. Slamming fast and deep with every single thrust. I am grunting and panting at the pace he has taken with my asshole. He's grunting louder. I can tell when he's getting close to cumming. His breathing is coming hard. Then finally he slams deep and spills hot cum deep into my bowels. Before he can even pull out of me, Master materializes from the trees nearby. He doesn't really pay attention to me, but I am so happy to see him. "Hey Bill." Master says to the officer. "Hello Matthew." Officer Bill says as his cock slides free and I feel some of his hot cum leak out of me. "Was my slut worth the drive out here?" Master asked. "Didn't disappoint. Feel free to call me anything, Matthew." The officer said as he zipped up his pants. "I will do. Have a great day, Officer." Officer Bill took his leave. I heard the car start and pull a U turn much like Bud and Georgie had done. Master doesn't speak until the car is gone. He walks behind me. "My slut took some loads I see. You're a mess." I don't respond. Master walks around me and runs his hand over my warm skin. "Did it make you nervous being left here to pleasure whomever might happen upon you?" "Yes, Master." "Good. You liked it though, didn't you slut?" I want to deny it, but I won't lie to Master. "Yes, Master." "They didn't just happen upon you, slut. I sent them to you this time..." I feel a sense of relief. Master would never let men cum inside me if they weren't safe. Master comes to stand by my face. His cock is already out of his pants and hard. He strokes it in front of my face. I open my mouth like an obedient cock sucker. Of course Master slides his cock over my warm, wet tongue and into my throat. He fucks my mouth hard but carefully until he releases a huge load of hot cum down my throat. I swallow it all. As Master releases me from the sawhorse I smile secretly. This wasn't really much of a punishment. I can't wait to find out what he does to me next. He helps me stand as I am a little stiff. His fingers find their way between my legs and he rubs me with the men's slippery cum. Finally he takes me into his arm and embraces me. "I love you my pretty slut." "I love you, Master." Our marriage is not traditional, but it's perfect. By the Roaring River "Amelia, I'm," I took a deep breath, "gay." Three words. Just three little words that ended my life. She'd kicked me out, took everything, kept the kids, and spread the good word all over town. It was a small town, maybe 4,000 people. In one fell swoop I lost my wife, my kids, my family, my friends, and the respect I'd always had. My job was still there, thank God. They couldn't fire me or they sure as hell would have a discrimination suit on their hands. After work Fridays there was nothing to do. I couldn't go down to the Dairy Queen because none of the girls would wait on me and the assistant manager was a jackass. Bowling was out, no one to do it with. The movies were already watched. Shopping required money and my wife, sorry, ex-wife, got most of it in child support and alimony. The walls of the small, dumpy apartment squeezed in on me. The peeling wallpaper and patched plasterboard were just two more symbols of my ruined life. Three words. How I prayed, wished, begged, and cried, promising everything if I could just take them back. Laughed it off as a joke. Amelia wasn't stupid. She had always known I wasn't quite right and I'd confirmed her suspicions. My eyes landed on my fishing pole. Small rivers, creeks and lakes cover this part of Missouri. A solitary camping weekend, just me, the skeeters, and the fish was an attractive idea. It wouldn't be like the family trips we used to make, nothing ever would be. My wife kept my sons well away from me, lest I rub my vile ways off on them. Of everything that came from those three words; losing my boys hurt the worst. Sighing heavily, I forced myself to get up and gather the supplies I'd need to go camping. I moved lethargically, not really paying attention to the things I stuffed in my backpack. I just didn't care anymore. It didn't take long to pack the truck, not like the laughing chaos that had always hallmarked family outings. The only thing left was some beer and the bait. A quick stop at the Quick Trip and I was as ready for the fish as I'd ever be. Somehow, I'd hoped for a little more excitement, or at least a little less depression. Roaring River State Park was one of the most serene places I'd ever visited. The highway was long and winding, full of hills and turns. Sometimes it made you feel as if you were the only person alive. I left the truck in a designated parking area near the scenic river and hiked the rest of the way. Even as utterly lonely as I was, I had no interest in human contact. I didn't feel like being the butt of every joke, ostracized, or whispered about. I just wanted peace. Maybe I should move. The hike along the river went a long way toward making me feel better. The fresh air, coupled with the warmth of exercise, raised my spirits; perhaps this little trip was a good idea I should repeat. I reached my old and familiar campsite a few hours before sunset. The hike was shorter than I remembered; either that or my legs had grown longer since high school. The river was clean, running shallowly over pebbles in places. A few deep holes lined the banks where trees dipped into the water. If you didn't mind the hike, it was a good place to fish. I spent a few minutes setting up my camp; it wasn't as much work as it had been with the boys around. Then I gathered wood for a fire. This was one task I'd always enjoyed with my boys; just walking around the woods picking up sticks and logs, discussing the merits of this piece of wood versus that one. The memories brought a ghost of a smile to my lips. I returned with the last armload of wood for the night. I had enough to see me through the evening. I dropped it into a pile with the others, then built the fire. There is something satisfying about setting the logs just so, adding a bit of kindling, then nurturing a tiny spark of flame to life, babying it until it grew to a happy blaze. For the first time since I'd said those three damned words I felt a full measure of peace. I felt like just maybe all was right with the world. I stood, my back to the flames, staring at the Roaring River. It was twilight; I could barely see the water reflecting the last of the sun's rays. Shutting my eyes, I drank in the sounds of the fire, the river, and night. "Mr. Moreland?" I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of my name spoken so quietly. I whirled, prepared for anything. A figure crept from the bushes, moving closer to my camp. "You don't know me. I'm Wes Franklin's son, Richard." Wes Franklin had been a friend back in high school. We'd drifted apart after graduation; he'd chosen blue-collar work and I'd gone to college for my degree. We were still friendly, but not as close. I'd seen Richard a time or two. He'd always been a quiet boy, not boisterous like his father. "Richard," I replied guardedly. I looked for others; perhaps this was an ambush. It wouldn't be the first time I'd been physically threatened. "Can I come closer? I'm cold." "Are you alone?" I was suspicious. It was hard to see anything beyond the ring of firelight. "Yes." He edged closer. "Well, come on, get warmed up. Are you hungry?" I couldn't remember if I'd packed any food or not. "No." He settled down by the fire, staring at it. I pulled the beer out of the backpack and sat down where I could see him. I took a long pull from the bottle and wondered what in the hell he was doing here. "What are you doing here?" "I followed you." He shifted his weight, glancing at me for a sliver of a moment, then stared at the fire. "I saw you coming out of the Quick Trip and I just followed you here. I didn't know where you were going." "Why?" He didn't say anything. He just looked more and more uncomfortable by the moment. Tactfully, I changed the subject, for now. "I heard you joined the Army." "I'm on terminal leave. I'm getting out next month and I came back home." "Oh. Bet that makes your Dad happy." "Yeah, I'm going to college in September." "Which one?" "I don't know." There didn't seem to be much to say after that, so I just took a sip of the warm beer and listened to the cicadas. My eyes drooped a little as I began to relax, feeling a little of the peace I'd missed since my little announcement. It was nice to have some human companionship, even if it was just Richard. "I followed you here because, ah..." he trailed off for a moment, staring off in the direction of the river. I looked at him, appreciating the simple, masculine beauty of his profile. "...I'm gay." Beer sprayed out through my nose. "What?" "I said, I'm-" I cut him off. "I heard that. Is this some kind of joke?" I was getting pretty hot under the collar. "No, sir. I'm serious. I'm gay and I followed you because I thought you'd at least understand." He looked miserably down at his lap. "My father never would." I chugged down the rest of the beer in one solid gulp. I stared at him, really stared at him. He was good looking in the soldier way. Tight buzz cut, firm muscles, and squared jaw. He reminded me of several pictures I used to steal time with on the Internet. He could have any girl in the world. Wes was going to have a shit fit. "It sucks to be gay in this town." "I kinda noticed. I've been watching you since I hit town. People really hate you here, why do you stay?" "My kids are here." "Do you ever get to see them?" "Every other Thursday we meet at McDonald's for supervised visits." I opened another beer and took a non-committal swig. "I'm a pervert, you know." "Have you ever, ah, you know." "Have I ever what?" "Had, you know, sex." I paused in the act of lifting the bottle to my mouth and stared at him. "Of course. I have kids." "I meant with a man." I didn't know how to reply to that. I was, indeed, a homosexual virgin. "No." He deflated a little; it seemed he was disappointed. I charged forward boldly, "Have you?" "No." There was silence for a while, as we both digested that bit of information, if you could call millions of howling cicadas silent. I finished my beer and reached for another one. Wordlessly, I offered him one and he took it. I added another log to the fire while he tossed it back. "Do you want to?" His voice was almost inaudible. The beer was messing with me, I thought I heard him offer me sex. "What?" He cleared his throat. "Do you want to have sex with me?" "Richard..." "Hear me out. I'm scared, more scared than I've ever been in my life. I've never touched another man and I want to, but my Dad, if he ever found out, it would kill him. I don't want to try it with some stranger, just go out and pick some guy up. I don't want to get hurt either. I trust you, Mr. Moreland." "I've never done it either, I might hurt you anyway. Your dad could still find out and he'd kill us both." "No, you won't hurt me. I'll be leaving for college, probably in California, in a couple of months. He'd never know." He turned his head and caught my eyes firmly. "I want to." I tossed back the beer to hide my nervousness. My cock twitched, it wanted him beyond a shadow of a doubt. "Let me think about it." "How long?" "I don't know, until I'm done thinking about it." I couldn't hold his gaze anymore. I watched the fire instead. I didn't know what to do. His offer was the culmination of all the fantasies I've ever had, but it scared the hell out of me, too. I was homosexual in name only, still untouched by the sordid lifestyle. I tossed a quick glance at his clean profile. There wasn't anything sordid in him, just a decent young man sitting by a fire with a dirty old pervert. I held the bottle to my lips. Well, he was just as perverted as I was. And I wasn't really that old, just old enough to be his father. I took a sip and let my eyes wander over his body. Might as well give into the perversion. I hadn't let myself go like most middle management did, but I was no young hard-body like he was. But then, Wes had started young. He'd been 17 when Richard was born. That made me a mere 17 years older. It was hard to believe we were both virgins. The self-confidence he'd displayed moments ago was gone, replaced by insecurity it seemed. He fidgeted under my regard, staring at his feet. "You're sure you want to do this?" "I've never been more sure of anything in my life, Mr. Moreland," he said with all the conviction of a young man who doesn't know any better. "Call me Ben." I put the beer down and frowned at him. "Let's turn in. If something happens, it happens. If it doesn't, well no hard feelings." He nodded curtly, but didn't move. I gathered my courage before my good sense could return, climbed into my tent, and flipped on the small, battery operated lantern. I usually slept in most of my clothes when I camped out, a habit from having children. This time, after a moment's hesitation, I shucked down to my underwear. I couldn't quite bear to get completely naked. The what-ifs crowded my mind, but I brushed them aside and opened the sleeping bag completely. I had a couple of thin blankets inside, I hoped they were enough to keep us both warm. Unbidden, the thought of cuddling with him to share body heat surged through me, making me shiver. I heard the hiss of the fire and assumed he put it out. A few minutes later he crawled into the tent and sat next to me. I leaned on an elbow and watched him disrobe completely. He was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I couldn't help it, I had to touch him. My fingers brushed his biceps, then curved around his arm, feeling the taut muscles flexing. My hand slipped away, still burning from the heat of his skin. I never thought that the act of touching another male would be so exciting, more exciting than the blase orgasms I'd had while conjuring images of this very situation. My erection, obvious as the river out there, embarrassed the hell out of me. I couldn't look at him. Instead, I fiddled with the blankets. "It's okay, Ben." "Is it?" It was too weird. I wished my cock wasn't ready to explode, it was stealing my good sense. "Yes, it is." We were silent for a while after that, both of us laying there, staring at the pale green tent sides. "I'm going to shut off the light," I said, more to break what was becoming unbearably heavy tension than anything. "Okay." I paused, then leaned over and shut it off. The darkness was more soothing. I could hear his breathing and my own, but I didn't have to look at him and he couldn't see me. I started to relax, feeling less embarrassed to be in a small tent with a naked man. "When did you figure it out?" He didn't have to delineate what "it" was. I closed my eyes and sighed. I remembered the utter fascination I'd had in high school with the showers, and the terrible fear that I'd be caught ogling the other guys' equipment. I'd stolen a Playboy mag from my Dad, but the females in it did nothing for me. What always made the cream spurt were the remembered images of smooth bodies, gleaming wet cocks, and heavy balls in the showers. Despite all the high school shower stories and fantasies I'd ever heard about, I never got to see one hard. I'd just never admitted it to myself, not until I got the computer. "I've always known, I just never accepted it. Then I got the Internet and discovered pornography. I never went looking for women, just men. First it was innocent stuff, exercise sites where the guys were flexing in trunks, then soft-core stuff. Finally, the hardcore. I had the best orgasm of my life staring at those pictures. It ruined me for women. I could only get it up for my wife when I thought about those pictures and those men." "What'd your wife do?" "When I told her she believed me. Didn't need any convincing. She kicked me out, took everything." "I've always known and being in the Army only convinced me more. I joined up to be a man, like there was something wrong with me. Dad was so proud of me for it. He thought it'd make me a real man. I had a friend there who was gay, but we never did anything. It's like as long as I'm a virgin, I'm not really gay. There's nothing wrong with being gay, but my Dad makes it the worst thing a man could be." Richard took a deep breath and rolled onto his side, facing me. "He hates you so much for betraying him." I didn't know what to say to that. I picked up on the agony in him. If his father hated me, a mere acquaintance who used to a friend a long time ago, how would he feel toward his son? It's hell to deny an intrinsic part of yourself to make another person happy, or respect you. I didn't know what to say, but I knew what this young man needed. I grabbed him in a bear hug like I'd give one of my sons, completely non-sexual. He stiffened at the sudden contact, then quivered. It took me a while to realize that he was crying. My wife always wept noisily and copiously, as if she were trying to hammer the guilt into me. Richard made no noise and held himself as if he'd break if he relaxed and let the tears go. Suddenly, I had the tremendous urge to kill Wes and kick the asses of everyone else in town. It just wasn't fair that Richard was suffering so much. There was something terribly wrong when he had to pretend to be something he wasn't just to keep his Dad's love. I didn't say anything, just let him compose himself. "I'm sorry, don't know what came over me," he muttered eventually, trying to pull away. I held him tight. "You're human, it happens to the best of us. I understand." I loosened my hold when he quit trying to move. We lay still, on our sides, facing each other, casually touching. We weren't quite ready for more. "I've shed a tear or two over it myself." Now that was an understatement. I bawled like a baby a few times. It just hurt so much to lose everything. Particularly my boys. "I just wish I could tell my Dad." "That'd be a bad idea." "I'll say," he snorted. "He'd shit a ring around himself." I laughed at the unexpected turn of phrase. The image of Wes dropping his pants and literally making a ring of shit was funny as hell. After a few moments, Richard laughed along with me. Still grinning, I said, "I could see him doing that." He chuckled. "Mom would kill him, think of the mess." I smiled, knowing instinctively that my eyes were staring deep into his. Or maybe it was wishful thinking. I couldn't see anything in the dark belly of that tent. I lifted my hand and traced the back of my knuckles down his cheek. The stubble of his five o'clock shadow scraped my skin. My cock perked up, pressing hard against my boxers at the knowledge that I was stroking a naked man like a lover. The silence changed, from tense to something else. A few heartbeats later I felt his lips brush mine, a quick touch that was gone before it even registered. I wanted more. With an awkward bumping of noses, I found his mouth in the dark and tasted it. First it was just lips moving against lips, and then the tongues joined in the action. I was kissing Richard with everything I had, my mouth, my body, my soul. It was the most erotic thing I'd ever done. Deliberately, I put my hands the flat, well-defined plane of his chest. It was fascinating and infinitely more exciting than my wife's perfect breasts. I brushed his nipples-- so like my own-- with my fingers and teased them to hardness. He groaned, slithering his tongue deeper into my mouth. He wrapped his upper leg around mine, pulling our bodies tightly together. I could feel his erection nestling against mine, a burning hot slab of flesh that I desperately wanted. "Richard, are you sure?" I had to ask, to be sure. "I want to fuck you, Ben." I groaned and latched onto his mouth again. He sucked on me, his hands everywhere on my body. I shuddered when he slipped them under my boxers. Suddenly, I couldn't wait to yank them off, to feel my naked cock-flesh rubbing against his naked cock-flesh. The boxers were pulled far enough down my thighs for my cock to hang out, pressing to him. His hips humped against mine, sliding his erection back and forth against my body. It was too much for me, the feelings, the very idea of this gorgeous, young man's penis hot for me. I shuddered, my oily sperm exploding between our bellies. The smell of cum was heavy in the confines of the tent, over-riding the smells of the beer I'd drunk and the smoke from the fire that clung to us. I was embarrassed, horribly so. I'd never shot off so quick in my life for something so insignificant as a couple of humps. I closed my eyes and sighed. "It's okay, Ben," he murmured, his fingers finding my hair. He pulled me closer, until his lips were against mine. "It's great to know that I turn you on that much. I jacked off before I came here, or I'd be cumming with you." "I usually have more control." While what he said was gratifying, I was still embarrassed as hell. I have never been so fast off the mark. "You're not done are you?" I opened my eyes, realizing that I wasn't anywhere near finished having sex with him. With the wife, it had always been a one shot deal. Pop goes the penis and off to sleep I went. With Richard, I wanted more, much more. "I haven't even gotten started." I could feel him smiling through the darkness. "Good." He slithered down my body, turning himself into a pretzel to fit in the tight space of the tent, and nuzzled at my belly. I felt his tongue stab into my navel and shuddered. My dick, still a little pooped from its explosion, twitched and started to stiffen. I shut my eyes and tried to picture us as we might look: the young man with the perfect bubble buns licking cum from the belly of the old man. I blurred reality a bit and gave myself some washboard abs. Richard lapped at the cum, roughly tonguing me until there was none left, then nosed down farther. I held my breath, wondering if he would do it, wondering if I would let him, wondering if I'd cum all over him again. I felt the warm heat of his breath washing over my privates. My cock felt too small for its skin. I wanted nothing more than to have him lick it. I wanted nothing less than to lick his as well.