by Neil Plakcy
I followed. My cock stuck straight up and as I lay back, it slapped my belly and sprang back up.
Mark’s eyes caressed my body as I lay there naked. He had taken off his shirt and shorts, and the pouch of his ratty jockstrap swelled as he stood there. He oiled his palms and rubbed them back and forth before he started on my chest. His circles were large and firm, and my nipples rose from his touch.
“Relax.”
I felt my cock start to jump up and down. It kept touching my abs and bouncing back up. It was practically waving hello to him, demanding his attention. My face burned. I wanted his touch so bad, but I hated to show him how desperate my body was.
His hands worked my neck and shoulders. He stood above my head and stretched my neck.
Tension flowed out of my body as his magic worked, but my dick didn’t listen to him. I felt wetness at the tip as it brushed my belly.
He rubbed my arms and hands again, and I savored the moment. He moved down to my feet and worked up my legs. His fingertips brushed my balls again.
I felt a small pool of precum fill my belly button. I wanted him to touch me there. Everything felt so good, and I wanted more. I wanted him naked, rubbing his whole body against mine.
His hands moved up my legs, over my hips, and along the side of my cock. He circled around and around on my abs, carefully avoiding the pool and my erection. The hair on his arm tickled my tip.
My cock jumped higher and higher. The sensation grew inside me. Touch it, touch it, my mind screamed. Just once, take your hand and rub it up and down my shaft and stroke me. Stroke me!
One finger moved to the crease of my testicle and leg as he pressed down. My penis slid along his forearm. I exhaled the air that had been trapped in my lungs. How long ago had I stopped breathing?
“Did I hit a tender spot?” he asked.
I couldn’t say anything. I closed my eyes and pressed my body down into the bed.
His hand touched my balls and rested there for a few seconds. Then, so slowly that I wasn’t even sure it was really happening, his palm moved up to my dick. His fingers curled around the thick shaft and just held me there. Millimeter by millimeter, he slipped up my cock. As his fingers hit the tip, a gush of precum poured out and mixed with the massage oil. The pool in my belly button overflowed and ran over my hip.
His other hand freed his straining cock from the pouch on the jock. He stroked himself as he stroked me. I reached out and touched him. His body was hot and moist; my hand slipped easily over his leg and touched the back of his hand.
He removed his jock and crawled over me on the bed.
I took his erection into my hand and clamped down gently. I wanted him so much. Together we stroked each other, slowly at first, increasing as we went. My hand became wetter and wetter as my speed increased. The feeling in my balls rose and rose, and the urgency to finish drove us faster. He bent down. His lips touched mine, and mine sought his out.
As our lips met, the kiss deepened and we devoured each other. Our rhythm increased, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. My cock exploded in his hand, and my grasp on his increased.
He bucked my fist and came all over me. He collapsed on me. His body lay on top of me and he kissed me again.
There was a gentle knock on the door, followed by “Excuse me, an urgent fax for Mr. Parker. I’ll just slip it under the door.” A swish of the paper slid under the door.
I sat bolt upright, almost knocking Mark off the bed. My sticky hand dripped across the room as I grabbed the discarded towel and wrapped it around my waist. Wiping my hand on the upper part of my leg, I dried it as much as I could before picking up the fax. The hospital logo dominated the cover sheet. “Shit!”
Mark wiped himself and slipped back into his shorts. He waited in the corner of the room as I read the papers. “Shit, I need to respond to this.”
My cell phone began to vibrate in circles on the dresser. I took a deep breath and wondered if the hospital would ever be able to do anything without me.
I looked up and realized Mark had slipped out the door. Then I wondered if Mark would do anything with me again.
For the next two days, I worked in my room. Room service brought my meals as I sat on the balcony and worked. I could look out over the ocean but was unable to step foot in it. The project wrapped up around ten that night; after faxing the paperwork, my body was wound too tight to sleep.
The hospital sent a bottle of champagne and two flutes to my room to celebrate the finished project, but I felt no sense of accomplishment. I was alone, all alone, and the cold bottle did little to lift my spirits. The night breeze blew across the water. I wished I had someone to share the moment with. I thought of Mark, the wonderful massage, his naked body, and so much more. I did have someone special… and I’d thrown him away. How stupid I had been! Then I remembered what Mark had said: “Relax, take a deep breath, and dive in.”
I knew I had to find him and tell him how I felt. I grabbed the bottle of bubbly and the glasses. I didn’t know where to look for him, but thought I’d start at the bar. I’d just walked in the door when I heard a familiar voice offer, “How about sex on the beach?”
I stopped and turned to see Mark sitting there.
“Excuse me?” Had I heard him correctly?
He stood and handed me the cocktail: the same peachy pink drink he’d ordered me before. “Vodka, peach schnapps, orange and cranberry juice—a Sex on the Beach. I thought it was going to be a long, lonely night so I ordered two of them—but it’s something I’d like to share with you.”
I took a sweet sip and enjoyed the satisfying flavors.
“Would you like to walk? Or sit and drink?” Mark motioned with his hand down the beach and then pointed to the sand. “There’s a great place over to there to sit and watch the surf and stars.”
“I…”
“Relax, take a deep breath, and…”
I took a long drink and drained the glass. My erection throbbed in my shorts; walking would be uncomfortable. I offered my glass back to him. “More would be nice.”
Mark cocked his head to the side, motioning for me to follow. “I see you brought your own.”
As he turned, I watched his tight butt. In the moonlight, I could see a shadow on the sand. The form-fitting shorts were all he wore. The thin T-shirt stretched smooth against his warm skin.
My palms started to sweat at the memory of his touch, what he felt like when I touched him, and how he made me feel. “A gift from the hospital. I hoped you’d share with me.”
He led me down the beach to where a blanket lay stretched out at a secluded spot. “Sit, lay down, whatever’s most comfortable,” Mark said. He took the bottle of champagne from me, opened it, and filled a glass to the brim.
I knelt on the thick blanket and wiped as much sand as I could off my feet. I sat down and accepted the glass. A little spilled over the edge and onto my hand.
He poured a glass for himself and lay down next to me. He leaned on one elbow and looked at me.
I stretched out and lay parallel to him, mirroring his position, and drank half of my drink. My head started to buzz from all the alcohol after only a small supper.
“I hope you’re enjoying your vacation.”
I took another sip.
“Sorry about the massage. Things got a little out of hand.”
“Out of hand? Your fist was wrapped so tight around my cock, nothing was going to escape. I’m sorry. Work called, and I’ve been stuck working in my room these last two days.”
“I’ve missed you. You didn’t show up for your snorkeling lessons. I was worried that—”
My hand shot out to touch his arm, his hairy hot arm that burned my fingers as I made contact. “I’m sorry you were worried. It was all work, not you.”
“Well, that’s good and bad. I guess I haven’t taught you much this week.” Mark let his head drop back on the blanket and stare at the stars.
I pushed up onto my elbow and looked down at him, then repeat
ed his words. “Relax, take a deep breath, and dive in.”
And I did.
I tossed my glass to the sand and rolled over onto him, wrapping my legs around him. My aroused flesh rubbed against his as I cupped his head in my hands and kissed him. A gentle kiss at first. Slowly the heat grew, our lips opened, and my tongue sought out his.
His hands came up my sides and held me to him. Our mouths sealed.
I rocked my hips into his and felt his hands work down my back to the waistband. He pushed my elastic down, and I felt the night breeze blow across my bare skin—but his kisses made me forget to be worried or self-conscious.
He freed me from my shorts and I started to pull my shirt off. As I shifted to remove an arm, Mark rolled me on my back without breaking our kiss. He slipped out of his shorts and we were naked, flesh to flesh. Sweat and precum made our dicks slide along each other. The new sensation increased our intensity.
Mark kissed down my neck and lower. His teeth rolled one of my nipples and his lips sucked hard on the aroused flesh. He sucked the nipple in deeply and pinched the other one.
My fingers combed through his curls, but I wasn’t able to control his movements.
He licked down my chest, over my abs. He explored my belly button, as his razor stubble brushed the tip of my cock.
I squirmed as he went lower. My hands tried to hold him back, but his mouth found my cock and swallowed me whole. As his hot tongue licked down my shaft, I held him impaled on me.
Saliva flowed over my hairy balls and ran into my crack. Mark grabbed my hips and rocked them, forcing my dick down his throat. His thumbs tapped on my balls as a finger explored my opening.
All I could do was take a deep breath, lay back, and enjoy. I could feel precum ooze out of me and mix with his juices. Hot, wet, and slippery, it added to the growing tingles and pleasure in my pelvis.
He reached over and picked up the bottle of champagne. Without breaking the seal on my cock, he popped the cork and sent a cold fizzing spray over my abs. He sucked along my cock and let the fat end pop out just like the cork. He took a long drink from the bottle and poured a glassful over my erection.
I almost screamed from the cold tingle.
He brought his full mouth down and swallowed me again. Little bubbles hit every nerve in my dick and shot through the rest of my body. He poured more over my pelvis. Bubbles exploded along my balls and filtered into my crease. A small amount pooled around the opening and sizzled.
I flexed my butt muscles and felt the coldness enter me.
Mark poured more champagne over my face; the sweet flavor burst in my mouth and ran over my cheeks.
I drank my fill and felt the alcohol and bubbles hit my brain.
He released my cock and asked, “Did you want any more champagne?”
“No,” escaped from somewhere.
He brought the bottle to his mouth, drank his share, and then brought the bottleneck to my exposed ass. He tipped the bottle over and applied pressure to my hole. He gently pressed and worked my butt to relax. The rest of the bottle poured into my bowels, and my balls almost emptied. He pulled the empty bottle out, jacked his dick once, and replaced it in my ass. His hands cradled my hips as he dove into me.
One of my hands grabbed my cock as the other reached back to stroke up and down his hairy chest.
He increased his speed.
The bubbles and his thick dick stimulated my prostate and started a chain reaction. My balls rose and my cock exploded. Hot thick cream sprayed across my chest.
Mark’s hand grabbed my sensitive cock and jacked it even faster as he increased his pace. He thrust into me one more time, and I felt an explosion inside and outside. He plunged in deeper and hit my prostate gland.
My dick sent another wave across my chest.
Mark moved between my legs and grabbed his dick and mine at the same time. Together, he jerked out the rest of our loads. He collapsed on top of me and kissed me deep and long. Sticky sweetness stuck our bodies together.
I lay there for a long time, enjoying the warmth and weight on my body. A shooting star streaked across the sky. I closed my eyes and made a wish. When I opened them, he looked into mine.
“We should go skinny dipping to wash off.” Mark pushed himself up and reached down to grab my hand. He pulled me across the beach and we ran into the water. He dove into the surf as I flopped down into the cool, refreshing ocean.
We swam for a while, rolling and playing in the water. The salt water washed us clean and refreshed our bodies. Emerging from the surf, we dripped dry on our way back to the blanket.
Mark motioned for me to lie down.
I jumped at the chance and scooted over for him to join me.
Mark spooned my body and wrapped his arms around me on the blanket.
I fell asleep in his arms in seconds.
The next morning I ate breakfast quickly, but didn’t see Mark. My snorkeling appointment wasn’t until that afternoon—and I needed to know what last night meant. I rushed across the beach searching for him.
The scuba shack stood wide open, and a moment later, Mark walked around the side. He saw me coming and set down the fins he carried and walked over to meet me. He stopped a foot away.
I looked deep into his eyes as blue as the surf, his windblown hair the color of the sun. He smiled at me and stepped into my arms. His hairy legs brushed against mine as the ocean breeze blew a tropical scent over us.
“I just wanted you to know—” I started.
And the cell phone rang in my pocket.
“You’d better take that.” Mark stepped back out of my arms as I dug into my pocket.
The cell phone slid along my erection as I pulled it out. The display read Hospital.
He read the display. “Guess they really can’t live without you.”
I turned my back to him as I brought the phone up to my ear, and then I threw it into the surf as hard as I could. A splash, and the next wave washed over it and it was gone. I faced him and stepped into his stunned arms. I pulled him close as my mouth sought out his. We kissed deep and hard until our lungs burned and we needed to come up for a breath.
“Maybe I finally learned your lesson. I like this life so much better than what I have at home. No stress, no worry, no responsibility.”
“How will you survive without stress?”
“I’ll do what you taught me. Breathe deep and relax.” I took his head into my hands and pulled him almost to my mouth, took a deep breath, and dove in, deep.
COCK ROCK
David Holly
I was getting closer and closer to orgasm. Riding Vance’s fiery ass in the filtered sunlight, I bounced upon him, savoring every thrust. The summer breeze rustled the high grass in which we lay and fluttered the huge oak and maple trees above our deeply tanned, naked bodies. I thrust my hips up, pulling my cock nearly all the way out of Vance’s asshole. Then I thrust down again as he wriggled his ass.
“I’m getting close, Vance.”
“Come in me, Rick,” he gasped. “Oh, just let me get off with you. I want another anal orgasm.”
I humped him harder as the tingles raced through the head of my cock. “If you don’t shoot your cum, I’ll suck you after I finish,” I promised. The tingles grew until I was thrusting maniacally in his ass. I humped him up and down, filling Vance and emptying him faster than the incubus of his wildest dreams.
“Ah, keep it up, Rick. Fuck my ass until I come.”
Alas, I was fated to come too soon, or he too late. The rapture of full orgasm was upon me. Instead of reducing pleasure, the condom tight on my dick enhanced the experience. The muscles at the base of my cock were contracting rhythmically, spurting cum into the condom.
“Give it to me. Give it to me.” Vance was virtually shrieking as I pumped my cum. But there was a third voice added to the mix.
“No, boys. No. No.” The voice was actually shrieking with priggish disapproval. “You can’t do that here. Never. Never.”
Th
e afterglow of orgasm ruined, I pulled my cock out of Vance’s ass and rolled over.
Rooster Rock is a basalt obelisk, located in an Oregon state park along the Columbia River about twenty-five miles east of Portland. Lewis and Clark camped there in 1805, but they used the original Chinook word iwash, meaning Cock Rock, since the monolith resembled not a chicken but an upraised penis. Later the name was changed to Rooster Rock to avoid offending any prudish, namby-pamby, pantywaisted citizens.
During the summer months, I spend every weekend at Rooster Rock’s officially designated clothing-optional beach. With its secluded coves and inlets off the Columbia River, its miles of foot trails through the tall grass and among the thick willows and blackberry canes, sandy beaches, and sun-draped dunes, the park is a paradise of men. Yes, some women sun in the nudist area, but the long hike from the parking lot through the wild roses and the willows beyond the prying eyes of the family beaches discourages most. On a summer weekend, the eye lingers over a sea of naked gay men, their bodies growing browner and browner under the yellow rays.
There is an etiquette to nude beaches that can be stated in a single command: don’t fuck it up for everybody else. That means no sex, primarily. Nobody violated that rule on the beach, but back in the bushes the breaches occurred. There was a hardcore group who went for sex with wanton disregard for the Edenic purity of other nudists. I had never thought myself one of their number until I met Vance.
He had spread his blanket in a meadow, secluded by wild roses and encroaching willows, and was lolling face down on it. His deeply tanned buttocks lured me. The spicy scent of Oregon grape tantalized my nostrils as I stood over him. I guessed that he was about my own age, perhaps thirty. Young enough to retain the last blush of youth and old enough to have developed some skill. At first I stared, lust rising in my heart, in my thoughts, and in my cock. Inching closer, I let my shadow slide across his profiled face.
Soon we were talking as if we had known each other for years. While we exchanged secrets, his eyes wandered over my body. It seemed that he talked to my cock only—not that I minded. I was hard with desire for his ass.