Basement Woodpile

I was in my mid twenties at the time of this story. It was the early part of the year, and the nights were still pretty chilly, but with the hope of spring ahead. I could feel the surge of rebirth around me as I walked home from the warehouse I was working in that year, on the night shift. I got off at about 11 or so, and walked home in about half an hour.

I went to bed, but I just couldn't sleep, and I kept playing with my cock under the covers, which didn't help matters very much. After much in the way of tossing and turning I decided to get up and walk down to the local cruise park. I got ready and then dressed, making sure I had a fresh pack of cigarettes with me.

The local cruise park was about fifteen minutes from my apartment, which was no coincidence. It was located on the waterfront, at the top of some fairly high cliffs above a rocky beach. The sound of the surf crashing against them become more apparent the closer to it I got, and I felt my pulse start to race.

At first there was no one around, and I was starting to wonder if the second sight which had so often guided me in successful cruising wasn't working in my favor tonight, so I lit yet another smoke. I stood there and exhaled strongly, watching the clouds move in the sky above me. I was standing just in front of some bushes, and in a couple of seconds, as surely as a freshly lit cigarette will summon an overdue bus, out stepped a guy in his late thirties with a leather jacket and a mustache.

I smiled to myself and ground the smoke out on the ground in front of me, a pagan sacrifice to potential passion. He stopped to look at me, and in the dull starlight this gave me an even longer time to look at him, though my cock had pretty much decided what was going to happen at the first rustling of the bushes.

He made his choice and walked over to me. There was a look on his face that could have meant anything, but the way he reached out and put his hand on my cock was fairly explicit. It was of course hard, and this made him smile. This, and the fact that I didn't pull away, which would have happened had I not been interested. I pushed back against his hand and reached out with my own.

He had a nice sized cock in his pants, and he leaned forward and licked my neck as I stroked his. His mustache felt soft on my flesh, and I was right into doing this. After a few minutes of mutual stroking we decided to go back to his place. He had a car parked nearby, and we walked to it in silence; though once he reached out and touched my ass, which was quite hot. His car was a large American Sedan, with plush velour seats and a full ashtray at the lower dash.

And so he drove us to his place, which was an old house up on a local hill not far from where we had met. The place was covered with an infinite number of wooden shingles and ivy, reaching up into the misty night sky. The driveway was gravel, and crunched under the tires as we pulled in. We walked along a path next to a decayed garden, and he stopped suddenly and turned to the left, opening a door into the basement.

We walked down some concrete stairs into a dark room. There was a streetlight adjacent to the building, and it's feeble rays reached us through a framed glass window, or two, on the opposite wall. My eyes took some minutes to adjust, but at length this was done and here we were. I followed him, stumbling occasionally over a bike wheel or a wheelbarrow amid the general flotsam.

We came to a stop near the furnace, which had been hidden behind a woodpile of great age and height. I wondered momentarily at it's presence there, since the furnace was obviously oil but the array of jackets and other paraphernalia at the far end bore testament to its age. I then noticed a glow from under a doorway into the hallways upstairs. This was a common area, but rarely used.

The guy smiled in the darkness and told me he had a roommate, and that he was home unexpectedly, his car in the drive ahead of us when we parked. The woodpile it would have to be, but at least it was warm, and 'nobody ever comes down here'. I sighed to myself and followed him deeper into the gloom. He unzipped his pants and pushed me to my knees in front of him. The smell of his hot cock came to me fresh and strong, and I opened my mouth and took him inside me. He sighed almost at once.

His penis tasted hot, and the confined quarters and the thrill of it all had by now outweighed my disappointment at coming to the basement. I was into this, and it was nice and warm in here. Upstairs there were no sounds of life, and we would have had time to get decent before anyone could come down to find us there.

His regular breathing above me was also turning me on, and the way he moved his cock to keep me mindful of who was in charge of the scene. His hand never left the back of my head, as if being horny were not near enough in the way of encouragement.

I knew what I wanted though, and rose to my feet in front of him. He knew it as well, and reached for my ass. I undid the front of my jeans and he had me turned around in a second. My pants were pulled down to my knees, my belt buckle making a small but steady clink on the way down. There was hot breath on my ass, and I felt his mustache soft there for a moment before the wet tongue first probed into me.

This was so hot. The creak of his leather jacket was the only sound in the silence of the house, next to his breathing and the hum of the furnace fan in the background. His fingers joined his tongue as he continued to probe my ass. He moaned softly, this was what we both wanted more than anything; and if there had been a hundred people around us in the darkness it wouldn't have mattered to either of us.

His tongue continued in regular strokes now to lick my ass, and his hands were both there, spreading me apart so he could be deeper and closer. My cock stood straight out in front of me, and his I could feel against my leg, pressing insistently.

He stood up now, and I handed him my faithful pocket condom on the way up. It was all he needed, and he had the thing on in a moment. My legs were confined from spreading too widely by the fact of my pants being so low, but this was hot as well. One of his knees was between my legs, and I felt his hardness start to enter me. While he had been licking my ass there wasn't much in the way of lubricant but the coating of the condom itself, and this felt a little rough, which turned me on all the more.

I moaned and bent my knees to accommodate him. He was just a small amount shorter than me; just enough to make the strokes of his cock have a tinge of justification in them, which continued to add to the hotness. I bent forwards to take him more deeply up the ass.

His strokes became faster, as did his breathing, and this was a sure sign that he was close to coming. I touched my own cock, which was drooling with pre-cum, and was loving this. The slickness spread on the sensitive part of my penis, and this made me come just before him. He grunted powerfully and almost lifted me up off my feet, both of his hands on my ribs in an iron grip.

I wanted this to go on for longer, but it was clear that this was to be one of those situations that was as hot in the anticipation as in the doing, and short and sweet into the bargain. It was also apparent that he wasn't going to be able to last long before coming, so I started stroking my own cock. The hotness of the scene made me pretty close to coming right away, and so when he came a couple of minutes later I wasn't far behind him.

We stood there for a moment transfixed, and then it was over. I pulled up my jeans, and he took off the condom and hung it on the woodpile. I wondered vaguely to myself if there were more of those things hanging in the darkness there, a kind of Blackbeard's chamber here behind this ancient woodpile. The thought made me smile, and so I turned and walked out. He offered me a lift into town outside in the cool night air, and I declined, wanting to walk home down the hill. We parted on the best of terms, his face exhibiting a hot smirk.

I walked down the hill, having lit a fresh smoke at the top, and ran through what we had done while it was fresh in my mind. I had enjoyed every moment of it, and by the time I had got to the bottom of the hill my cock was hard once again. When I got home a while later I went right to bed and jerked off thinking of the hotness of what we had done. I lay there in the cool night air, the come drying up crusty upon me, and drifted off to sleep on a wave of satisfaction.