1 comments/ 27055 views/ 4 favorites Junction Ch. 01 By: muffinbod Being one of natures untidy people, I have to really try hard to look good if I'm going out. It never lasts long and like any pretense, it shows up soon enough. Also, I carry a lot of muscle from years of working out, not enough so my clothes don't fit but, well, noticeable. So the easiest way for me to attract a playmate is naked. Simple. I love to feel the sun on my body, it always makes me horny. On warm days I pack my rucksack with a rug, towel, baby lotion, a snack, lots of water, wet wipes and insect repellent (I'm tasty that way too!), then I head on down to the best cruising ground I know. I call it the junction. Wooded and rambling over neglected land, complicated boundaries whose ownership no-one seems to know and municipal ground by an intersection of major roads, it has been a joy spot of mine for many years and I can't count the times I've cum there in all winds and weathers, there's always someone to fuck. The best time is in bright, warm, sunny weather and I can relax completely, take an interest when I want and sleep if I choose. There's no stereotyping here, a lot of the men are not openly gay, many are married and a lot of first timers, a lot are very nervous even this far from the public eye, nervous of being caught, nervous of being assaulted. Being well muscled is no protection from a gang but the danger is minimized because the great thing about the junction is that the area where the real action is lies way beyond the woodland near the road and picnic site and rest room that attracts people first. I like masculine men, big or small but he's got to be a man and the rougher and stronger the better. If a guy is bigger and stronger than me, I need to know I have a way out. I've made my own luck that way. Close to the truck stop everything is hasty, furtive and risky, which can be great if your in a hurry, you're an exhibitionist or the risk of being arrested or beaten up is what drives you. Men walk around and sometimes lurk in shadowy places for a while, it can get very frustrating. The best action takes place about half a mile away, off a public footpath and into some dense woodland with a south facing hill on the far side that traps the sun and is sheltered here and there with small bushes. First, if you're a homophobic thug, you've got to know its there, they're never going to work it out. Second, it's too far to bother to walk there if you're not really determined to get down and get off. Third, the police couldn't get a 4x4 down there to bring anyone back they arrested, they must know what goes on back at the truck stop but even there it is ignored. I like to go down there when the sun gets over the trees, unrolled my rug, strip put on the all important insect repellent and relax. The warmth and my nakedness is usually enough to sustain a partial stiffy and the sun on my muscular body is enough of an advert for most of the men who pass. Nerves are still a problem down here but a guy sleeping naked is a sure sign for most of them that it's safe and although it happens sometimes, I rarely get a guy want to run away when a passer by sees him riding my cock or sucking my balls. They usually want to stand and jerk, sometimes they're bold enough to want to join in but I like to keep a careful control over that. It's my time and I like to choose who I interact with. I have a favorite spot, by the junction of two paths, and I'm happy to wait there as everyone who makes it down that far and who is really looking for sex rather than just watching others, will pass me. I will pretend to sleep for all those whose features don't attract me, which accounts for most, I'm choosy. Sometimes I get pawed by an unwelcome stranger and as politely as possible so as not to frighten them, I let them know they are not what I want, I seldom have to speak. I certainly wake up for those with the right combination of rugged masculinity but they account for only a few of the men who come by. At around 11 to 11.30 am there may be 2 or 3 around but by midday every couple of minutes someone comes by. It calms down after 2 then after 4 until sunset there is a steady stream of men looking for sex. I think the most I've fucked, that is actually pushed my throbbing erect cock into the hot arses of, is seven in a day. Sometimes it's only a few, sometimes I forget to count so seven might not be right anymore but I always go for quality, I never cum for a man unless he has cum first and even then I like to save it. For me, the real pleasure, the peak of pleasure, is to feel the sphincter of his arse tighten around my cock as he comes and the expressions on his face as I fuck him, the pleading, the joy, the ecstatic agony of orgasm. I can't get enough of that so even if a man wants it doggy style I try to flip him over before he's ready to blow so I can see him react. My customers won't know if I'm a Trucker, a Builder, a Scaffolder, a Police Officer, a Priest, I can be whatever they would like me to be as long as what they want is for me to eat their arse and slide my fat cock into their guts. If we just get to 69 that's fine too but I find a lot of really big guys, the biggest, love to take it. My cock is beautiful but not so large as to frighten them off and I just love that moment when a great hulking man quivers with pleasure as I tongue fuck him with his massive hairy legs held high in the air, one reason for sustaining considerable physical strength myself but I guess it's mostly about balance, leverage and care. I care how much he is wanting me to suck his gonads, to eat his cock until he's crazy with lust and aching to blow his load and I care how slowly, gently and carefully I press the head of my penis through that hairy portal of lust that most men stupidly assume is an exit rather than an entrance. It matters to me the sounds he makes, the way he bites his lower lip and closes his eyes as his ring expands to let me in. It matters to me that the rest of his body is loved as much as the place I have shoved my tool, so I let him down onto my rod, kneeling between his legs without fucking I will toy with his tits, I will kiss him deeply even though sometimes he is resistant and I will suck his tongue as I gently move my dick in and out through the gate that so recently opened for me (occasionally for the very first time). He whimpers through my suffocating kiss and holds on to me and feels the flared ridge of my cock head open and close his sphincter again and again slower and slower. He's aching to jerk but he can't reach his red hot meat, and pre-cum is slithering between our bellies as his quivering erection leaked to the rhythmic rubbing I have planned for his prostate. I will do that jerk when I'm ready for him to cum. I want him to wallow in the complete release of this pleasure in a totally open place, nature all around no privacy to speak of but the total relaxation of all reservation, a complete surrender to sex. When he cums it is a unique experience, a one off work of art and pleasure and the look of thanks in his eyes is absolutely sincere. I tenderly allow my cock to slide out of him, I lap up his man juice and savor it before sharing it with him in a passionate kiss while he is still dazed and we might lie together for a while before he moves on. I never take numbers nor give mine, a pre arranged meeting would never have the same spontaneity, even here, although occasionally I see the same man another day and have often enjoyed a rerun with variations. Junction Ch. 02 Ch. 02: Under Cover Nurse. Part one. Summer days in temperate climbs like my home can be unpredictable, so the occasions when I can escape to my favorite cruising ground and be guaranteed a clear sky, warm weather and strong sunshine, are precious and all the more exciting. As school holiday periods lead to nerves for the men who are aware of the real danger of children allowed to explore on their own, I go there only when I know that kids are where they should be; under the watchful gaze of a responsible adult. When there is no pressure from such fears as I hate to be interrupted at my pleasure. Walking well trodden paths, often through battered vegetation and occasional litter left by inconsiderate individuals. Unlike used tissues that quickly rot away, spent condoms and drinks cans are left to lie, they become ivy covered monuments to the impermissible. Another reason for not sticking around in the area close to the rest stop. Before I realized there was much more to this place I'd cruise there and brazen out the crowd of nervous men with insistent, considered, premeditated, naked fucking where furtive mutual masturbation or an occasional over hasty suck was more the norm. It was tough and frequently interrupted. Then I followed a guy he beckoned me right through the wood, down a path along the edge of a green wheat field, over a stile and into another wooded area of a different kind. He was big and rough looking tousled brown hair with a wisp of grey at the temple. In shape but not a fanatic, by which I mean a physically active man without either excess weight in front or behind him or the attitude that too often accompanies the gods of gym mountain. He carried a small pack, wore stout boots and walked purposefully secure in the knowledge of precisely where he was going. His powerful frame moved easily 20 meters or so ahead of me and he looked back occasionally to be sure I had not been left behind or mistaken a turn in the trees as here the path was not as distinctly trodden. From the dappled shade, the crack of a twig and a sudden glance would reveal figures between the trees some waiting, some moving some watching our progress, some busily fucking or being fucked, sucking or getting sucked or both. Still I followed, however distracted, as the powerful denim clad rump ahead led out into bright sunlight, around the edge of another field and through a broken fence, onto a scrub hillside high above the road below along which we'd all driven to the rest stop but probably a mile from the car by now. How I was rewarded! A few more meters and he stopped between two wild bushes, dropped his pack, unbuttoned his flannel shirt, revealing a broad, densely hairy chest, hesitating, he crouched to unlace his boots and stepped out of them onto the clover and grass, which I could now vividly imagine as our bed. Reaching into his pack he pulled out a small, tartan rug which he flicked open and spread, unpacked baby lotion, wipes and drinking water and then returned to his stripping. The shirt was rolled into a sausage and I could see the strong upper body of the man, pale as he was, I could clearly see from my 10 meters distance the hair on his chest and belly extended to shoulders and back, unusually also down the upper arm as well as on the forearm. Body hair in luxurious whirls at his navel and hiding his broad nipples , frothing over the belt of his jeans and clipped strictly at the line of his shirt, this was exciting me as I chose to move a little closer unsure if his invitation to follow through the wood included touch as well as look. He unbuckled and shucked down jeans and boxers together in a gesture totally unselfconscious of nakedness, I took another couple of paces towards the figure, bent double busily removing the final garment, his thick woolen boot socks. As he unfolded, I gasped with lustful pleasure at the sight of his total nakedness. I'm a whole body man, to me a big cock is just a big cock. This man was sex. Powerful thighs darkly pelted in the same brown hair which pooled in a torrent on each leg as the quads cave into the knee, then either side of the shin bone and thinning over big calves, refining and diminishing out over the instep to his toes, he turned to place his clothing thoughtfully and his strong butt mapped as intricately as the legs in dark profusion, held my full and hungry attention. Body hair defines the shape of a man and it sickens me that hairy men wax and shave it away. The hair on his back filing neatly in to the dimples at the base of the spine and then cascading into the mysterious ravine below. My mouth was watering. I moved in close. I kicked off my shoes and had my shirt off before he turned around, looking up, his broad delighted smile greeted the sight of my semi nakedness and nearness. He reached a strong hand towards my chest and thumbed my right nipple. In response, I put out my right arm put it around to his warm lower back and pulled him towards me pressing my chest to his and crushing his mouth with mine, invading him and dueling tongues. The bluish stubble on his lower lip scratching mine as I enclosed his mouth, the bristles of my beard and mustache tickling his face, his fingers opening my cargos and releasing my stifled member with a surprising delicacy. No underwear, my precum already dotting the front of them, the pockets jangling with keys, the cargos slid down to my feet, the loose fit helping me step out of them in just my socks without opening my eyes or unlocking out jaws. If a man's tongue is as invasive as mine, I know he will be as keen to fuck me as I am to fuck him and that puts me to work with a vengeance. This man knew what he wanted, had no hang-ups about it and gave himself up to that purpose, that moment, completely. What a fine example to us all. I dropped to my knees and immediately nuzzled his navel, his groin and having wallowed in the scenting of his manliness, I swallowed his cock. Slightly curving to his left and down, its large head, somewhat like a circumcised tool, completely revealed in erection. There was a sharp intake of breath from above me as his engorged rod slid straight down my throat and stayed there, a dramatic gesture perhaps but effective and controlling. Assertive and safe(on my terms), I like to steer sex and have never thought of getting fucked as a passive situation. No one has ever put me through sex I didn't want. This was no exception. If you care about the way sex feels for yourself I find it hard to believe you would not want to do the best you can for someone else. I'm a craftsman, by profession so I guess that means the quality of what I do in any situation is important to me, a source of pleasure as well as pride that my skills please other people. When it comes to sex, my own cock sliding into a guys mouth is a familiar sensation and the feeling which that warm, wet place transmits to my body from his is familiar and I know how it feels for him when the glans touches my tongue, when my hot breath rushes over its super sensitive skin, when he presses against my lips, slips into my mouth and then on into the gateway of my gullet. So if a man is willing and a little inexperienced, I am happy to explain and cajole my sucker into a gentle thoughtful approach to my precious organ. Occasionally, I have been enveloped in the velvety gorge of a man of culture. A man who understands well what makes a good blow job and has perfected a technique can be heaven to receive. He may not always have conquered the 'relax and swallow' required to sheath a sabre completely. If he's having a nice time wetting my dong, it's all good. As with most skills, some have it by nature, find it easy to relax their throat and can work up a tortuous ecstasy in a man, deep throating him again and again with a slow delight in that ability to give exquisite pleasure. Others need to work at it to be good, practice makes perfect! Maybe they can't manage the cock down the throat, with a large piece it can be a trial, but the willingness to delight and the enjoyment of giving enjoyment is a wonderful thing. Empathic. I love that. It's where I'm coming from when it comes to giving head. My first sexual experiences were giving head to big butch men and really getting off on it myself. I learned as I went on and had so much fun, not to mention nutrition from the learning. Good head can be gasping, panting, breathless and choking or it can be calm, slow, very deliberate and controlled. It doesn't need to include deep throat! Giving head or receiving it I've had blissful variations of all of these and excepting the few occasions when enthusiasm overwhelmed technique and I got my dick savaged, I never failed to be carried away from it. Enthusiastic suckers use the lips tongue and teeth as well as the throat and can do so much artful work without it. As with any gift we give or receive, it's the thought that counts. The comfort one feels with ones prick nestled in another man's hot mouth is so sensual that one's thinking is completely derailed and I know that some men in this position will start fucking like a maniac without the least consideration for the man taking the length. Bet your life he's no idea how to give head himself. If a guy does that to me he can wave goodbye to any further effort on my part to please him. I love to get my face fucked by someone with whom I have an unspoken understanding about the way it goes, breathing and a delicate balance between the feeling of possession and the excitement of being choked by the monster which only a sucker can understand. After a long soak, I will back off and allow the head back into my mouth licking and sucking there and up and down the shaft before slowly pressing forward again until his bollocks are bang up against my beard. It was in this manner that I treated my new companion that beautiful sunny afternoon. I gripped his gonads in my right fist and gently pulled down, increasing the pressure in his pulsating rod as it slipped back down over my tongue. A guttural sigh slipped through his lips and his eyes rolled upwards and closed in total abandon. Although I was delightedly pleasing his penis, my mind was full of the forested cleft on the other side of him and my oral ministrations on his boner had to be terminated in order that my mouth could be engaged in that new arena of pleasure. With a last lick I turned him around and motioned for him to bend over. Happily his trance like state required no further redirection as this was certainly familiar territory in his sexual experience. Knees slightly bent, he presented his musky, fur clad arse crack to my waiting, delighted face. To be continued. Junction Ch. 02.2 Ch. 2.2: Undercover Nurse part 2 Before I learned about rimming my purpose in life was undefined. Once I discovered how to make a great big man quake and moan with pleasure by tonguing and nibbling on his tender ring, I understood what I was meant to be. An arse licker. From day one, it was apparent, with no tuition, I could do it. I was receptive until that time then men were begging me to fuck them. Even men who never usually want to be fucked. It was like getting a drivers license! Well, there was not mistaking, this man was appreciative of my speciality. I kept hold of his weighty ball sack, tugging and making his cock bounce against his hairy abdomen, a fine thread of precum sticking and stretching down in an arc catching the light. I gently settled my face into the hot furry cleft, simply enjoying the pleasure of that lovely place. I breathed into the dark chasm and gently teased some of the sensitive hairs with my tongue. He reached back and with a cheek in each hand opened for me. How kind! My tongue got to work on the soft flesh surrounding the pucker and afterwards pulled him back with his balls to impale him gently and repeatedly on my extended tongue. I motioned for him to kneel and he went down on all fours in front of me. unwillingly letting go his delighted balls (it is at moments like these I wish I had more hands), I was able to grip him myself and really get to work. As I get on with the job I require a good deal of pressure and strength to really open up and eat a guy. Having started with gentle lapping, I will eventually devour. Getting my tongue right in requires pressing back the cheeks hard and really pushing face lips tongue and teeth into the action. Once this process begins I tend to lose myself a bit as it it gives me such profound pleasure, but the main course is yet to come. I rolled him over on his back and we 69d for a good while, at which point I discover that not only is his sucking more sophisticated and accomplished than mine, he likes to be choked and favors the under position with my weight pressing into his incredibly agile throat muscles. I pulled off his cock lifting up his powerful legs so that his knees were held behind my shoulders and I once again had full possession of his hole. Here again it is a big help to be compact and strong. I was in heaven. My face eating that mound of man meat and my cock in the throat of an expert sucker up to my bollocks. As I gobbled and chewed pleasure noises gurgled along the shaft of my penis and tickled my balls and his little moans and squeaks of ecstasy encouraged me with full marks and a gold star for analingus. My own pleasure escaping in gasps and sighs as I ate. What it is that stirs me from such joy, I don't know. I am not a dominant or even particularly assertive man and I don't look for trophies in sex encounters but when a man is good and ready to be fucked I suppose it just happens and I break off from the biting tonging and sucking. Like most men I resent condoms and like most gay men found the first few times problematic, now I just do it without thinking, skin up lube up and on with the game. On this occasion I was able to reach my pocket without moving and the requirements were in my hand, the condom un-peeled without needing to slide my tool out into the open air or letting my partner's feet back down and losing the moment. Acknowledging that the moment had come he took the rubber from me and rolled it on my saliva slick member with a considerable dexterity. I passed him the sachet of lube and again without letting down his feet, I moved around to kneel at his awaiting butt. I pushed my hips at him and he smeared my rod with the cold goo. I raised his feet so that the backs of his knees rested on my shoulders leaving my hand free and his body braced against mine. We fitted together like a glove, the first time as if my cock had all the data it needed for a perfect docking procedure. My face certainly knew the geography very well. The supple lips embraced my cockhead like a long lost friend and with this meeting in progress I reached for his tight fur-bound nipples. His head nodded backwards and his back arched up and I aloud my swollen pork to slide slowly in vein by throbbing vein. To get a big man in this position, a man bigger and heavier than me is an unbelievable thrill and privilege. His cock head dribbled silvery stickiness into his navel and he repeatedly clenched his ring to greet my plunger. I leaned heavily on him and into a prolonged probing kiss giving him the oral replacement for my cock with my searching tongue. Why I just didn't blast there and then I don't know but I take a long time to climax as a rule. I knew it was not too far to the finishing line. His natural lubricant smeared our bellies as I pulled away from his mouth and backed my cock to the portal of his arse. Grasping his nipples I rocked back and forth using my body weight against his, sliding the crown of my cock head into and out through his ring. He made little fishy motions with his lips and laughed, a thing I so value in sex as an aphrodisiac. I drove in and upwards against his prostate, he panted loudly and strongly three times, let out a low throaty grunt and as if by magic he let fly his cum which shafted it's way up his belly in a stark white line through the dark hairs to a point between his heaving pectoral muscles. I felt four spasms in my cock as his sphincter clamped down on me. Chest heaving, one more grip around the base of my tool and one final blast shot forward with a stifled bellow to lie in the hirsute flood meadow before me. He was spent. I lowered his quivering body gently allowing my hungry rod to slide out, I let down his heels stripped my condom and lapped up his strongly aromatic seed. I moved to straddle his chest and he grinned as my erection aligned to his waiting mouth. I pressed inside and down at an impossible angle, my dick straining to bend into that ravishing and ravening tunnel, his throat somehow rippled up and down my length in kaleidoscope of tingling pleasures and I felt my semen, drawn out of me like a sword from a sheath, I bucked and grunted never letting my prick lip back an inch, I came and came and came for what seemed like an age yet he continued to hold me in and relish the starvation of oxygen. I wobbled and would certainly have fallen if I'd tried to stand. I withdrew and stroked his bristled cheek his eyes sparkled with delight and mischief and I guessed our afternoon would be a long one. While we lay naked in each others arms, I learned he was a nurse. Surprised, I also learned that he worked in a secure unit for people with severe psychiatric problems and that this was what he liked to do to unwind on his day off. From then on it was what I also liked to do on my days off!