Dirty Deeds

It was late afternoon, that time of day when the sun shined over the tree canopy in lieu of through it. At campsite 34, tents were erected around the perimeter of it, keeping back from the firepit and picnic table. Wood lay by the firepit, it still too hot to build a fire. A grill smoked with the scent of hamburgers and though the woods smoke swirled up through the trees from other grills or campfires by the more insistent. An ice filled cooler sat to one side with beer and water, and on the picnic-table were buns, condiments and napkins, the latter weighted with someone’s keys.

The three friends had driven down from Greenville, each seeking a weekend away from their jobs and life in the city. Two months ago, they were in relationships, each thinking their lives were all set, their future laid out before them with someone to share it. Then everything went to shit.

Oliver, the youngest at 24, had been dating an older man he met while in college. They had moved to Greenville and settled into new jobs, the first one for Oliver. He thought it a fairy tale, one where the boy from Walkertown, North Carolina got a degree in Pharmacy, met a man, then settled in a city working for an independent drug store. It had been perfect, too perfect. Then Bill came home on a Thursday later than usual, slightly drunk announcing he was leaving, heading to Dallas to take a new job. Two days later he was gone.

Oliver kept up his schedule at the drug store, thankful for a job he enjoyed, for it was the only thing that gave him any sense of sure footing. That, and the friends he had made once in Greenville.

Wyatt, the oldest at 32, was a native of Greenville, and in his landscaping company, had worked on several of the projects that showed how the city was transforming. The downtown coming to life, its old buildings having new purpose. Shops, restaurants, bars, and more microbreweries than one could count. He had been slow to settle down with a boyfriend, having let his business life get in the way, but three years ago he met one of the guys who worked a shop in downtown. It had been love at first sight, a whirlwind romance that found Wyatt sharing life and home with Chad. But Chad had been unhappy with his life, his degree in history leaving him few options in a career in a city the size of Greenville. A month ago, he announced he had been accepted at Florida State, and was leaving. Wyatt had gone through the stages of a breakup in record speed, Oliver joking that he did it in a day, and now he was once again single, just fucking around until he got the bitter taste of getting dumped out of his mouth.

Dalton was between Oliver and Wyatt in age and the one to introduce the two of them, thus creating this trio of friends. Dalton was 28, a website designer who loved the outdoors. He hiked the nearby mountains, sometimes for days, and in the city, he biked and jogged regularly, keeping himself in the same shape he had been in college when he had been on the track team. Of the three, he had been the one who seemed to go from boyfriend to boyfriend. He took it stride, joking it was curse. Guys wanted to hook up with him, but after a time his long hours at work and his easygoing nature seemed to bore them. One actually said he was boring. Sitting in the campsite, drink in hand, he looked at the men walking past giving the three of them the eye, that long stare that spoke of a willingness, and he smiled at how this weekend, he’d show them. He’d not be a bore; far from it.

“Fuck, it is hot,” said Oliver going for another beer.

“Summertime in the south,” joked Wyatt. “Hot and humid.”

“It is that,’ Dalton added, then turned to Oliver. “Grab those chips, will ya?”

Wyatt looked from Oliver to Dalton and smiled. He expected them to have fun this weekend and looking at how they were priming the pump for the night, knew expectations could be exceeded.

“There’s a movie up at the pool that starts right at dusk,” said Dalton.

“God, I’ve not seen that movie in years,” said Wyatt.

“We’re going, right?” asked Oliver.

“Of course. We’re here to meet guys, remember,” Wyatt replied, and the three smiled mischievously.

An hour later the three guys found themselves sitting on the grass slope, just high enough to look over the pool fence to the large screen on its opposite side. The movie was in progress when someone tapped Oliver on the shoulder and leaned in close, whispering into his ear. He smiled, nodding his head. A minute later, Wyatt was leaned back talking to two guys, and soon after another guy came down and eased down next to Dalton. As the movie played, they whispered with their new companions.

The witching hour, literally middle of night. The campfires burned low, illuminating campsites and putting a smoky haze through the woods. At campsite 34, music played loud enough to hear around the site, some late eighties dance club songs with a darker tone. On the picnic table and around the site, enough empty beer bottles and plastic cups to show the guys had sufficient libations to loosen their inhibitions and any moralistic trepidations.

Around the campsite the three friends had arrived at that moment when they were enjoying the pleasures promised by the gay campground. After the flirting and insinuating comments and the light touches, a grope here and there, the guys found themselves engaged with their campground companions.

Oliver knew he looked younger than his age. He wished he had a body like Dalton or Wyatt, one that was tall and muscular. But his genes conspired against him, and he was shorter than the average guy and was lean, boyish in appearance. But he was no fool. He knew it made him attractive to a lot of guys. His afternoon and evening at the campground proved no exception.

He sat between Jack and Travis, two regulars to the campground who were from Atlanta. Jack looked about 30 to 35, average height, maybe five foot ten or so, with a good build, one made from evenings in a gym, a detail revealed by Travis commenting on some of the guys they were eyeing during their last visit. Travis looked a bit older, but Oliver wasn’t sure, but he was sure of the physical nature of the man. He was between Jack and he in height, somewhere around five foot eight but he was more muscular. Even his legs were curved with muscle, something Oliver had noticed at the movie where Travis had them stretched out before him.

Now he sat between them completely naked, Travis stroking his cock and Jack kissing his neck, moving up to the ear while rubbing his chest. He spread his legs, angled his head back, and moaned. He reached over to both men, groped for their cocks still hidden from him within cargo shorts. He felt hardening cock, let his fingers follow the shafts until toying with the heads.

Jack undid his shorts, raised his ass, and slipped them off, kicking them carelessly to the side. Oliver quickly had him in hand stroking his cock.

“Let us see you sit on it,” said Travis.

Wyatt looked over at Oliver climbing to his feet and knew where their sex was heading. He turned back to the guy on his knees at his feet. Ethan, no Nathan, from somewhere in northwest Georgia. He smiled, shaking his head at his luck. He had never messed around like this, but the opportunity was kneeled before him, and he was going to take it. He was stripped to his boxers and the guy was rubbing his face over the crotch making him hard.

Nathan had been behind him at the movie and once it was over, quickly agreed to come to their campsite. After a few drinks with dares and encouragement, Nathan admitted to why he wore a collar. Then he admitted to what he wore beneath his shorts, and after more encouragement, had stripped down to the leather shorts with their zippers front and back. A leash was held out, something Nathan had in his pocket. Wyatt didn’t have to be told he was expected to hook it to the collar, or to be the one to lay claim to Nathan.

Looking down now, Wyatt saw Nathan had unzipped the front of the shorts and was toying with his own cock, getting it hard. He pulled the leash, tugging Nathan back. Then he got a good look at the tattoo on the right bicep. A bald eagle and shield: a tattoo of an army man.

“Take my shorts off and suck my cock.”

Wyatt watched Nathan tug his boxers down and with his help, slipped them off each foot. Then watched Nathan rise on knees and take his cock. There had been no kissing or tonguing it. Nathan had put his mouth to the head and took nearly every inch.

Wyatt kept tension in the leash, tugging hard enough to make Nathan work to push forward. It seemed to drive him to be more determined. A sloppy noisy suck that had drawn the attention of others in the campsite.

Dalton was standing to the side watching two guys go from sucking each other’s cock to one bent over getting fucked. They stood in perfect position for the campfire to illuminate the cock being pushed in then tugged out of the ass. Dalton watched them fuck, then looked over at Oliver easing down on a man’s cock, then over at Wyatt getting his boxers tugged down by a guy in leather shorts and collar. Wyatt towered over the guy, all six foot two of him. It was a crazy scene, one he had tried to imagine, but didn’t think would really occur.

He tugged off his t-shirt, then began to unto his shorts as Garcia did the same. Garcia had sat next to him at the movie, and before it has halfway over, asked Dalton if he wanted to play around. There were hands groping crotches and quick kisses, all meant to arouse the other. Now he stood next to Garcia, seeing how he was a few inches taller, Garcia looking to be five foot six or so. He pictured Garcia folded in half beneath him taking his cock. He pictured him sitting on it, moving up and down. He pictured so many positions he just grew more erect, more aroused, ready to see what scenario would play out tonight.

A grunt, then a soft pleading, and Dalton saw two more guys had come into their campsite in time to see Oliver ease down what looked like a good eight inches of cock. Oliver seemed to glow in the light of the fire, his skin glistening wet. And his cock stood straight out, rock hard. Dalton knew from Oliver’s past comments about sex and his favorite positions, there was a fantasy playing out in front of him.

Dalton turned to Garcia, seeing him stroke a nice uncut cock, the dark skin pulled back revealing the arrow shaped head. Taking him by the wrist, he led him to the picnic table where he unceremoniously cleared the top of one side with a sweep of his arm. Then he guided Garcia around, backed him up to the table, then helped him up on it. Garcia willingly raised each leg as he lay back and Dalton took each behind the knee and pushed them apart and back, spreading the fucker open. Nothing hidden from his stare as he moved closer, until his cock was touching the spread ass.

Oliver moved up and down, feeling Jack’s cock sink into his depths. Travis moved into the chair next to them and toyed with his cock. Fingers stroking the shaft, then the hand tight around it, stroking harder, then fingers toying with the head, all while he rode Jack.

It was still warm, and Oliver felt the heat of it and his own body. The feverish feel of it and how sweat trickled down his face and torso. He had been sitting up straight, hands on the arms of the chair, but he leaned forward putting his arms around Jack’s neck. His cock rubbed against Jack’s stomach as he moved up and down as lips touched his neck, then down to the hollow place just below it. He held to Jack and raised his ass and Jack began to hammer cock into his depths. Faster and faster, Jack thrust upward, at times smacking against his ass. He moaned and shivered with the fullness of the penetration, how Jack bore into his depths and just hammered away.

When Jack fell still grasping for breath, Oliver leaned back, resting his hands on Jack’s knees and began to work his ass up and down. His cock flopped around between his thighs and Oliver felt a mouth take it, sucking on the head. He moaned while keeping his head tilted back, eyes closed. He didn’t care who sucked his cock, although he was sure it was Travis.

Jack cried out, sat up bearhugging Oliver, pulling him down all the way on his cock. He cried out again, then shuddered with release as he filled Oliver with his load.

Wyatt dragged Nathan to the picnic table, where he cleared the other half just as Dalton had done. He tugged Nathan to it and pushed him down on it on his chest. He grabbed the zipper in back and tugged it all the way down. The leather shorts spread open revealing the ass within. It was perfect, Nathan’s round ass right before him.

“Spread’em,” Wyatt uttered and watched Nathan reach back and spread his cheeks. “You want it?”

“Yes, sir,” Nathan exclaimed, and Wyatt recognized the military training, this need to reply promptly; loud and clear.

Wyatt moved between the legs, kicking them further apart, and rubbed his cock up and down the ass, then he put his cock to the tight opening and shoved the head of his cock and a couple of inches of shaft into Nathan. Nathan raised up, crying out as his body shivered.

Wyatt took the narrow waist and bore into Nathan’s depths, inch after inch, until he had his cock buried inside him. He tugged on the leash, pulling Nathan up.

“What do you want, soldier?”

“Fuck me; fuck me hard.”

With a tight grip on the waist, Wyatt began to fuck. To tug his cock outward, then shove it back into Nathan’s ass. Over and over, his pace quickly escalating, he hammered his cock inside of him. If this soldier wanted to be bred, he’d do it. He held tight to the leash as he fucked. He kept Nathan’s head up, body tight, as he pounded his ass. Soon the smack of flesh hitting flesh echoed around the campsite.

“Shit, fuck that ass,” someone uttered to Wyatt’s left.

Wyatt fucked and fucked and fucked. He showed this soldier how he too was fit and strong. But he felt the burning of his muscles and the heat of his own body with his exertions. Sweat poured down his chest and his heart was pounding away within.

Leaning forward, Wyatt pushed Nathan flat on the table as he moved over him, thrusting into his depths. His cock ached for release, every thrust through Nathan’s insides pushing that much closer. Then he bit Nathan’s shoulder, then shuddered and jerked as he pumped wad after wad into Nathan’s ass.

Dalton eased into Garcia, just sank inch after inch into the tight ass until pressing tight against it. His cock flexed in the hot depths of Garcia, then he tugged it outward until hovering between them. As Garcia’s ass tried to close, he punched through again, sinking faster into Garcia’s depths. Over and over, he did it, tugged out all the way, then punched through the tightness until Garcia finally loosened to his assault. Then he sank into him and fucked, worked his hips at a powerful pace, working his cock through the battered loosened opening and into Garcia depths.

Garcia held tight to the table’s edge with his head thrown back, taking every thrust.

Dalton let his eyes scan the dark-brown body, down to the uncut cock laying prone on the stomach. He looked at the tightening sac and how the body was almost hairless, except under the arms and down the calves. He held the legs behind the knees letting the calves brush his upper arms.

A push forward, and Dalton had Garcia’s knees pressed to his chest. Folded in half, he held him down and kept fucking. Movement above Garcia’s head and he saw Wyatt drag that soldier boy to the table and put him over the end of it. Soon the table was squeaking and rocking, protesting their fuck.

Dalton was so aroused at the beginning he could hold back no longer. He pushed down and shoved into Garcia’s depths and came.

Oliver was down on the ground on knees and elbows. Travis was moving up behind him, hard cock curved out in front of him. Oliver held his head down waiting. A hand on his waist, a cock touching his ass, then rubbing over his leaking hole.

“Fuck, do it. Do it,” Oliver uttered in a low voice.

The cock centered on his hole then just as quickly was buried in it. He shuddered from the abrupt penetration, how a thicker cock stretched him open even more. He looked over his shoulder. First, he saw Jack still in the chair, wet flaccid cock hanging over its sac, then he saw Travis.

Travis’ muscular body seemed to shine in the dim light. Nipples high on each fully formed pec and abs Oliver had only seen in magazines. He felt the strength of the man, his power as cock moved inside him. Deep thrusts inward then the pull outward, Travis banged and hammered his insides. He pushed back and took it, every thrust. The hands tightened their hold and Travis hammered cock inside him; hard and fast, the sound of their bodies smacking together drowned out everything else. Then Travis slowed, bored into his hole slowly, letting him feel every curved inch. It made his own cock remain hard as rock as it flopped between his thighs. Looking along his chest and stomach he saw evidence of his own arousal by how it drooled his slick. The light of the campfire captured in its thin strand.

Travis increased his pace, one that allowed him to settle into a steady fuck. The hands left Oliver’s waist, and one came to his shoulder, pulling him into an upright position. An arm circled his neck and Travis pulled him back, arcing his back. He was on full display, his torso curved back, cock sticking straight out hard as rock. It flopped up and down in rhythm with their fuck. It made him feel so close, so very close, but only on the edge of release.

“Take me, take me, boy,” Travis uttered right by his head. It sounded loud, like the man bellowed it out and he opened his eyes to see others heard for they watched with hunger. A desire to see him fucked.

“Yeah, fuck me, ya bastard. Fuck my ass. Fuck me hard,” Oliver uttered as Travis banged against his ass, pushing that curved cock up in him.

Oliver looked around the campsite and saw a cute redhead. A real Irish looking mother fucker with light skin and freckles and flaming red hair over a hard cock. He saw the guy staring at him, eyes looking from his cock to his face.

“Hey, red, suck me…please,” Oliver uttered.

Oliver didn’t have to ask twice. As Travis fucked his ass, red came around the fire and moved to his knees, then elbows. He caught Oliver’s cock in his mouth and pushed forward as Travis forced Oliver forward. Red engulfed Oliver’s cock; took every goddamn inch and held his mouth still letting Travis force fuck Oliver into it.
“Fuck, I’m coming,” Oliver cried out. He was pushed forward as his cock swelled, then fired wad after wad into the sucking mouth.

Oliver imagined his spasming asshole brought Travis off. He felt the man jam into his depths as he was ejaculating wads of cum into red’s mouth, and now Travis was grunting and shaking against his back as cock was held deep in his hole while hips bangged against his ass.

Wyatt pulled out of Nathan and looked down at his still hard cock. It shined wetly in the light, flexing with his arousal. He wanted another ass to bury it in. He looked across the picnic table and saw Dalton was standing back from his fuck, cock just as wet, just as hard.

“Hey, want to trade?” he asked, smiling at Dalton. They had never been in a situation where they would trade guys, but in this hot sweaty, lust filled environment, it seemed to demand it.

Nathan raised his head and looked at Dalton.

“Come on, let me have your cock,” Nathan pleaded. Wyatt moved to his left and Dalton to his right letting them pass each other. Wyatt barked when Dalton playfully slapped his ass cheek, then the two friends laughed at their shenanigans as they moved up to the others piece of ass.

Wyatt glanced up once as Dalton got into position, then he looked down at what lay before him.

“What’s your name?”

“Garcia.”

“Garcia; do you want that ass fucked again?”

“Yes…yes, sir.”

Wyatt lifted the legs with Garcia’s help, resting them against his chest. He felt the soft ticklish caress of the hairy calves, then moving forward the hot press of flesh against flesh. He leaned over the prone body, taking Garcia by the neck, holding him down.

“Take me,” Wyatt uttered as he sank his cock into the leaking wet hole. He pushed in all the way and began to fuck. He drove into Garcia’s depths knowing after coming once, he could fuck for a very long time.

Using the strength of his body, Wyatt pumped cock into Garcia, working it inside him until he had to increase his pace. He rose in a standing position, took each leg by the ankle, and spread Garcia wide then hammered his cock into his depths. Long full strokes that pulled nearly free, then slammed in all the way. The table rocked and squeaked beneath them, and Wyatt saw Dalton fucking in rhythm with him.

Wyatt fucked until covered in sweat, then he pulled out and helped Garcia to his feet. He moved around to the long side of the table and sat on the bench facing out.

“Sit on it,” Wyatt uttered, pulling Garcia around until standing in front of him. “Turn around and let them see you,” he added, guiding Garcia to turn his back to him.

Garcia eased back, putting his feet up on the bench either side of Wyatt, then leaned back to Wyatt’s left, resting one elbow on the table, and bracing himself with his right arm around Wyatt’s shoulders. He lowered his ass to the cock Wyatt held up, dropping down until nearly every inch was buried in his hole. He began to move his ass. Up and down, faster and faster, until fucking with a vengeance, impaling his ass on Wyatt’s cock over and over.

Wyatt sat back and let Garcia fuck himself. He savored the feel of that ass moving on his cock and the heat trapped between their bodies. It didn’t hurt the air was heavy with heat and humidity, smoke filled from campfires, making everything seen so primitive, a time and place for men to have the most carnal pleasure. He could hear the moans and grunts of others and from a campsite further down the hill more cries of men in a state of pain and pleasure.

Garcia took his cock in hand and stroked furiously as he worked his ass on Wyatt’s cock. He was gasping for breath, and his dark-brown skin glistened wetly as it revealed the straining muscle beneath. Far too soon for those watching, he shuddered, cried out and came. Thick ropes of cum shot up his torso, as he shivered with each ejaculation.

It was too much for Wyatt. To watch Garcia come, to see the cum cover the chest and stomach in sharp contrast with the skin. He could even smell it. He put his hands on each thigh and pushed Garcia down on his spurting cock, pumping wad after wad into him.

Dalton didn’t ask Nathan his name or even if he wanted to be fucked. He grabbed the leash, pulled the fucker to his feet, spun him around and onto the table on his back. He took each leg by the ankle and spread him wide open. He moved closer until his cock touched the cum leaking hole, then buried it in him.

Holding tight to the leash, he fucked, fucked hard and fast, driving into the guy’s depths. He could see Wyatt fucking the hell out of Garcia and he heard Oliver cry out, as he held tight to each leg and fucked so hard he smacked against the spread ass. The guy lay back, arms stretched out and just moaned and groaned.

Dalton reached for the guy’s cock and stroked it. It was leaking and soon it and his hand were slick. He stroked the guy faster, rougher, while fucking his ass.

“Oh!” the guy cried out and Dalton felt the cock swell in his fist then flex with each ejaculation as cum rained down on the guy. He stroked the spurting cock until it was spent and the guy begging him to stop. Then he buried his cock inside the guy and pumped out his second load of the night.

Dalton and Wyatt sat on the bench, letting Nathan and Garcia nurse their cocks, licking them clean and drawing out the last of the cum, while they watched Oliver.

Travis and Jack sat in the chairs, flaccid cocks laying heavy and spent over sacs. Oliver looked back at them and smiled, an acknowledgment of his enjoyment of their sex. He turned to the red headed guy, kissed him on the lips, then pushed his tongue into the guy’s mouth tasting his own cum. He was still aroused, not helped by the guy toying with his cock, keeping him hard.

The guy kissed his neck, moved up to the right ear, tugging on the lobe then circling its form with tongue. Then he heard the soft whisper, so gentle it didn’t fit the atmosphere before them.

“Fuck me.”

“Yeah, let me have some of that ass,” Oliver uttered in reply.

The guy turned and got down on elbows and knees in the dirt. Oliver moved up behind him, running a hand over the back, down to the ass, where he raked fingers down between the cheeks. He toyed with the hole finding he would not be the first to enjoy it. He moved up to him, put his cock to the opening and pushed.