By noon the day was intensely hot, and so was I. I knew I needed some action, and soon. Donning my faded jeans (no pants, naturally), plaid shirt with three buttons undone, sleeves rolled up tight round my biceps, my favourite pair of beat up sneakers, I headed off to the local cottage, which seemed like a good place to start. I like the cool air from the tiled walls of the place on a hot day, and the concentrated smell of man '' okay, the smell of piss, but the effect's the same. I took up position at the last urinal and in no time was giving my big cock a good working over. I heard footsteps enter and looked up to see a guy in a suit and unbuttoned tie at the furthest bowl. He was a little older than I normally go for, but had kept himself in shape '' broad shoulders, no paunch '' but he looked a little worried, like he didn't do this too often. His cock was in his hand and he was obviously getting off big time by watching me. Fair enough. Now I turned to face him and started to put on a real show. Opening my shirt I felt up my tits and stomach, groaning and panting. Two fingers slid deep into my mouth, and with the spit I moistened and pinched my right nipple. Still pounding my meat, I slipped my other hand down to squeeze my balls, and then further still to stroke my sweaty ass; I sniffed this hand deeply then spat on the palm to lube up my cock-head. He was into this for sure, and took a hesitant step towards me.

'Stay there!' I barked . Not only did being in charge get me hot, I also knew I didn't want the full works with this guy. Sure, the situation was hot enough but the whole thing seemed somehow too domestic: a suit was not what I wanted today. I thought I'd at least do him the favour of bringing him off though. Losing the shirt, I flexed my arms above my head, licked and bit my biceps, gave him my meanest look and mouthed, 'Fuck you, bitch!'

I hocked up and spat in his face. This finished him off; with a gasp he came and spunk shot up, dribbled down his trousers and onto the floor. I didn't fancy the mood his wife would be in when she had to deal with the looks she got from the dry-cleaners, but what the hell! Zipping up, and hastily buttoning my shirt, I left him with a slap on the shoulder.

'Cheers, mate!'

I thought I'd head for the common, but my way there led through some scrubby heath-land, more densely wooded at times, and pocked with deep craters, the results of some long vanished gunpowder factory: the terrain was interesting, and could often be fun, and had earned the area the nickname of 'the glory bumps'. I love walking through woods on a summer's day '' the smell of nature, the solitude, and the deep silence except for the throaty coo of a wood pigeon, or the sough of the wind in the treetops. Horny beyond belief, I took my shirt off and tucked it in the back of my jeans, enjoying the feel of ferns and low pine branches against my skin, the dappled sun on my shoulders, and the weight of the swelling packet in my trousers.

Soon I heard another sound I recognized, and this definitely sent the blood rushing in a particular direction. Some guy was getting his ass pounded for sure. Following the sound of cries, groans and heavy breathing to the lip of one of the craters, I looked in to see two naked guys getting it on hot and hard. They were both smoothly muscular and virtually without body hair. The bigger of the two was doing the fucking: shaved head, tattoos on his neck and upper arms, two pierced nipples, and still wearing supple black leather boots. His buddy was slighter, with blonde bangs hanging in his eyes, and judging by the noise he was making, having some trouble coping with the load he was receiving. This was hot, and Mr. Mortgage back at the cottage was soon right out of my mind. Naked in seconds, I started working my stiff cock, as I watched them fuck. Bootboy was getting wilder, and started slapping the ass of the other and shouting obscenities at him. This made Blondie understandably a little louder. I must have groaned along too, because Bootboy spotted me and beckoned me over.

'Hey, mate, help me shut this whining pussy up will ya'?'

Needing no second invitation, I joined them and shoved the whole goods, balls and all, into that waiting mouth. It was really hot seeing this cutie skewered from both ends, and Bootboy's sweaty chest as he pumped that ass hard, pulling Blondie's head back by his hair so I could fuck his pretty face. But something wasn't right again. On any other day I'd have kept going till I creamed down Blondie's raw throat, but today I wanted something more. These two town boys in this post-industrial pit weren't quite getting me there. Rising I kissed the skinhead deep.

'You're on your own, pal. Hey, if it won't shut up, stick one of your socks in its mouth; that should do the trick.'

As I retrieved my clothes, Blondie's renewed moans reached my ears. Crossing the common, where there didn't seem to be any action, and the bridge over the small stream, I came to the back gates of the cemetery. I like the cemetery: however successful or unsuccessful a prowl I've had, the place has the ability to relax me. Don't get me wrong, I've never got off there; and it isn't some memento mori thing either. It's something about the absolute solitude '' apart from the obvious company, of course; but at least they don't bother you. It seems to warm you when there's a nip in the air, or cool you down on the hottest of days. Now, this particular hot day was coming to a close; the sun was sinking toward the horizon and twilight was beginning to spread between the stones. And I was still horny as hell despite plenty of opportunity to get my rocks off. Something was missing that I somehow wanted real bad, and I needed to chill out. I don't read the gravestones; I couldn't describe a single monument to you. I just like to relax, surrounded by this city of the dead. Now, as the warm evening settled around me, I stretched out on a bench and gazed sightlessly across the stones. I took out a cigarette and lit it.

The total silence was suddenly shattered by a noise, coming from away over towards the east wall, where a gentle slope runs down to a neglected corner. For all the world it sounded like an animal in pain; part dog when you tread on its tail, part whine of a cat in heat. The silence seemed all the more profound afterwards, but I was left with the weirdest sensation that there had been words in there, no words I could articulate but words nonetheless, and somehow addressed to me. The cry came again, and with that same aftertaste of something being communicated. As a silence more utter than before followed, I might have just ignored it, finished my fag and headed home '' to some hot solo shower action if I didn't run into something to my taste on the way. But ignoring it was out of the question: I felt compelled to head in the direction from which it came.

Towards the east edge of the cemetery, the ground falls gently away, and tidy ranks of monuments give way to older, ramshackle graves, lawns to scrubby grass, glossy rhododendrons to bramble, nettle and nightshade. Here and there a stubby yew pours out shadow, even on the sunniest day. The church is long gone, but this is clearly the remnant of some eighteenth-century churchyard, the Victorian necropolis above merely a later addition. The dusk was heavier here, and the air correspondingly cooler. I felt it chill the sweat on my chest and back. Where had that come from? Had that cry moved me that much? The ground was rougher underfoot, but I knew there was a path along the wall at the bottom and I made for that. The cemetery never freaks me out, but now I could feel my pulse speed up, feel a churning in my balls, a swelling in my cock and a strange light-headedness. Then I saw him.

In the deepening evening, he sat on one of the gravestones. Elbows resting on his legs, he was gazing at his hands, semi-clenched; even through the growing gloom I could see they were dirty, nails a little too long. But shit, a manicure was a small price to pay for the rest of the package! A faded denim waistcoat barely contained a well-developed upper body; nice pumped cleavage and lots of thick black hair was visible at the v, helped by the top button being undone. His arms were big, powerful, but not overworked, and my cock sprang to complete attention imagining them around me, especially as a thick dusting of more black fur covered the knotted forearms, just spreading over the back of his wrist; no watch, but a chunky gold bracelet on his right hand. Denim jeans showed off a tidy basket, and sported a thick black belt. Big bare feet were planted on the ground, and I guessed they weren't much cleaner than his hands. His tousled black hair was shorter at the back, but even from a distance I could see untrimmed black fuzz on the back of his neck, disappearing down his collar. Defined sideburns faded into a distinct five o'clock shadow, and strong, dark, thick eyebrows almost meeting in the middle overshadowed his eyes. Even at first sight, I wanted this guy like I hadn't wanted anything in a long time; my hand strayed to my bulging crotch '' fuck, I was hard.

He looked up from his hands and seemed to gaze into space ahead of him '' I was kind of over to his right. I'd almost swear he seemed to sniff the air, twice or three times, and then his head turned quickly towards me, and our eyes met for the first time. He had the most intense gaze; from this distance in the now rapidly diminishing light it seemed his eyes were almost black. I couldn't break eye contact '' as if I'd want to. Passion flooded my body and my mind. The sexiest grin I've ever seen dimpled his stubbled cheek, and I was caught. I left my hand clutching my packet and grinned right back.

He rose from the stone and I could now tell he stood about six foot tall. He knew he had me hooked and was determined to give me the show I'd been looking for all day. He stretched, raising those strong arms above his head and revealing more of that thick black fur in his armpits. I could practically smell him from ten yards off. The waistcoat rose up to reveal a further crest of black hair, like a wisp of smoke, disappearing down the waistband of the jeans. His back arched and he screwed those gorgeous eyes shut, stretching his whole body like a dog will when it wakes up. Coming out of the stretch he reclined back against the gravestone and casually hooked his thumbs over his belt, hands outlining his packet, and resumed that damn grin. He was hot and he knew it.

My heart was pounding, seemingly somewhere in the vicinity of my esophagus, but I was determined to maintain some cool. Undoing another button on my shirt, I casually slipped my own thumbs into my back pockets to show my somewhat smaller chest off to best advantage, and sauntered along the path toward him. The grin disappeared and a kind of pensive look came over his face, as he once again took his gaze from me and looked off to the distance. I figured a shag was definitely on the cards, but I thought a double check would be worth it: I'd cruise past and then look back. Damn, he knew I wanted him so all these games seemed a waste of time. The shadows were really lengthening now, but the evening was going to be sultry one. I didn't take my eyes from him '' silently praying I didn't trip '' and so it was all the more amazing that just as I came along by him I didn't notice his powerful left arm, which must have shot out and stopped me by landing firmly but gently on my chest.

Startled, I put my hardest look on, ready to knock the hand away, fight if I had to, or run like the wind. I looked at his face, the impassivity disappeared and that damn hot grin returned. His hand plunged into my open shirt and started to feel my tit. Man, that was good. At first the touch was icy cold, and I shivered, but instantly it warmed up and then quickly seemed to get positively hot. And the skin of that hand had the most incredibly arousing feel: something like the cracked leather of a real old chair, or the rough smoothness of the pad of a dog's paw. Inside the shirt he reached round and started caressing my back, thus pulling me closer into him; those slightly too long nails raked across sensitive skin. The musky smell of him was intoxicating. I put one hand up to that delicious fuzzy scruff of a neck, and the other down to his butt, firm and round and filling those jeans perfectly. I let a finger stray up his crack, hinting at how much I wanted to be up there. Our bulging packets were grinding against each other. His face moved towards mine, and figuring I was in for a snog I closed my eyes. But his lips merely brushed against mine and then went down into the crook of my neck: hot kisses were followed by the gentle nip of sharp teeth and sealing lips. My neck is an intensely erogenous zone and any mouth-work there is guaranteed to make me melt: this strong stud giving me a love-bite almost made me come on the spot. Now a tongue that felt strangely rough was lapping up and down my throat, probing my ears, and those teeth nibbling all over. I felt my knees begin to buckle, but it was so pleasurable I pushed his head into my neck, throat, and now my chest as his hot mouth also got to work on my firm tits. The hand I'd been groping that gorgeous ass with now strayed up to his belt: I wanted to see if that lovely black fur made any appearance on those delicious mounds. But as soon as my hand touched the bare skin of his muscular back, he leapt away from me as if he'd been stung. Surprised, I looked at him. Genuine pain was in his eyes, and I saw now why they'd seemed so dark in the gloaming: a blue-grey iris only thinly circled a large, densely black pupil '' it seemed as if they were permanently in a state of pleasure, or were they wide now to catch all they could of the last of the rapidly dwindling light? He stared at my right hand now almost in panic, and I raised it and looked at it too. Nothing peculiar, just my simple silver ring. When I held it up to him his distress increased. Well, he obviously didn't dig jewellery on other guys, though he did have that gold bracelet himself. I slipped the ring off and popped it in my back pocket. Instant transformation. He moved in and his strong hands, with that hot, electrifying touch, were all over me, his tongue down my throat, his hot man-smell enveloping me. I thought I was going to faint. Ripping open my shirt his hot mouth worked down my chest and stomach '' soon he was on his knees and nuzzling my swollen crotch, crooning like a puppy. My hands stroked his hair and unconsciously scratched behind his ears. He seemed to love it.

Of course we could have had it right there '' we were both really hot for it. But somehow for some reason I wanted to take this one home. That shower seemed even more appealing with company; I wanted to see that mat of chest hair wet, soap up that muscular physique '' I imagined him stepping out and shaking himself dry. Hell, at least those hands and feet needed a clean. I stroked his hair again, and indicated for him to get up. I kissed him deep, relishing the taste of him. 'Come on boy, let's go.'

With a pat on that rock hard butt, I led the way through the cemetery back towards the gates, as the last light of day faded. The dark was now really deepening, but I could see the outline of the bridge ahead and hear the running of the stream beneath it. As I set out across the bridge, he pulled to a sharp halt. He tried to look more nonchalant than the time with the ring, but it was clear something was up and he was not coming across the bridge. 'Come on boy, I wanna get you home.' No way. Those powerful arms were folded across that huge chest, and he wasn't moving. I went back to him and gave his packet an affectionate squeeze. 'Come on now big fella, the bridge is perfectly safe.'

No joy. Instead, he put one of those hot, rough hands against my chest, and turned his head, looking and pointing toward a looming, wooded hill that sat at the east side of the common: the deepening night turned it into a lowering, impenetrable thing, except where the moon, now rising fat behind it, leant a ghostly sheen to its crest. The weird thing is I'd never been on that hill before, which with its thickly wooded slopes might have made an excellent cruising ground: somehow it had never even impacted on my conscious thought. I looked at its strangely inviting bulk now like I'd never seen it before. Clearly this hot stud wanted some action up under those trees: I was all for that, though I would sure miss him wet and hard in the shower.

Now it was my turn to follow him, and I did so, mesmerized while the dim half-light lasted by those tasty tight buns and that broad, strong back. My cock was permanently hard, and strained, wet with pre-cum, against the cloth of my jeans. Fuck, this was going to be good. Once under the trees, the darkness was complete and I followed nothing but a vague shape of a deeper darkness, except where the moon dimly lit a path as it glimmered through the trees. Then the wood thickened, the moon let us down and the dark was absolute. I stumbled on with no firm idea that the guy was anywhere around.

Finally, it looked like I reached the top of the hill. The trees disappeared, and there was an open clearing, ringed in shadow by a final crown of trees. The ground of the clearing was a shallow saucer shape and the rim of that saucer was marked by a ring of thirteen stones, standing in the ground, each about a man's height, and rough-hewn to fang-like points; they glowed a dull grey in the moonlight. Surely, this couldn't be a real ancient monument: more likely some mock-Druidic folly, built by one of those dudes now inhabiting the old part of the cemetery beneath. As I walked into the centre of this circle, the wind, which was a little stronger on the top of the hill, tingled across my exposed chest. Hell, this was too good to miss: the whole experience was just too hot! I quickly stripped naked and could feel the breeze on every nerve ending; my nipples hardened instantly. Even if I'd lost my man, I was determined to make the most of the moonlit night and the hot surroundings. My hand grasped my rock-hard cock and started fisting it mercilessly. I fell to my knees and increased the speed, moaning and crying out with each tug.

'Take me! Take me!' I screamed into the night, unclear where the words had come from.

Then I heard the most eerie and beautiful sound I've ever heard. A penetrating howl seemed to come from every side of the circle at once.

'Take me. Claim your prey!' The words came to my lips unbidden.

He stepped out of the shadows and into the circle right in front of me: naked now and bathed in the moonlight, he was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen. That thick black hair covered his bulging pecs, reached up to his collar bone, almost joining his beard-line, and thinned into a straight line down his ripped stomach to join his dense pubes from which arose the most gorgeous cock: not just enormously erect, but curved gently upwards, the purple head oozing a string of pre-cum that glistened in the light of the moon; beautiful big bollocks hung low behind. His legs were also completely covered in a fine dusting of the same black fur. I was still on my knees as this vision walked towards me. He stopped with that proud rod right in my upturned face; I looked up at this huge hairy stud, and almost shot my load when that horny grin split his face again. Now the moon glistened on his saliva-coated teeth. This was what I'd been waiting for. I started by giving those big nuts a good tongue-bath: heck, he smelled and tasted so good. Then I kissed that shaft the whole length of its fat eight inches, lapped the salty pre-cum from the hot head, probed his piss-slit with the tip of my tongue. He let out little moans and growls of pleasure, and both those powerful hands came to rest none to gently on my head; I knew what he wanted.

Positioning my mouth over that juicy fruit, I reached round to cup both his buttocks: double whammy '' his ass was coated in a finer version of the fur on his legs. I love a hairy ass, and this one was so muscular too. Double my pleasure then as I pulled that beauty toward me and swallowed his cock whole. My gag reflex went out with Bananarama, but even so this was a real mouthful. The compensation was that, forced to breathe through my nose, his crotch smelled so good. My own cock felt like it was about to explode, and I didn't even have to touch it. Now, with those hands still holding my head, he took over and started fucking my hungry face, balls bouncing against my chin with each thrust. I risked letting a finger stray to his hot, hairy, hole. This drove him wild, and the thrusts got deeper and faster, animal grunts emanating from that mighty chest. With a final gasp he exploded into my mouth; four great shots of hot cum that I could barely contain. Rising to my feet, I began nuzzling that beautiful chest, dribbling his spunk over his tits and working it into his thick hair with my tongue. He raised his arms above his head, showing off bulging biceps and those lovely dark pits once again; my face was in there like a flash, inhaling his acrid man-stink and lathering his pit-hair with his own salty spunk.

Now he spun me round, one strong arm round my throat, his other hand was fisting my hot meat. His hard body, with the wet, sticky mat of his chest, was against my back. His cock, rapidly hardening again, was pressing between my thighs. I kissed his muscular arm, reached behind with both hands to pull his ass deeper into me. We both knew I was more than ready for what was next . Releasing me, he pushed me roughly forward onto the ground; I stayed there on all fours. Next I felt strong hands prising my ass-cheeks apart, and that rough tongue lapping at my crack and probing my tight hole. Waves of intense pleasure rolled up my spine. When I was good and wet, I felt his hard cock-head against my hole, those strong hands held my shoulders firmly and with one thrust he entered me. The searing pain of being torn apart by this stud, was immediately followed by the most intense pleasure of his huge meat filling me up; he drove in deeper and deeper until I felt him in the very guts of me. He began to fuck me fiercely and the pleasure was unbelievable. Now all his weight was on my back, his hairy body now slick with sweat sliding against mine. His teeth found the nape of my neck and clamped on, and one hand, slick with his own spit, worked my hot tool, now fit to burst.

I thought he was going to let another load off inside me, but he had other plans. Withdrawing, he rolled me over onto my back. Kneeling between my legs, which he spread wide, caressing my thighs with those rough, hot hands, he went to work on my cock with his mouth. Man, I've never had head like that. He seemed to produce gallons of saliva, and the consistency was of liquid silk. That rough tongue gave the most incredible sensations, and he wasn't afraid to use his teeth: delicate little nibbles up and down the shaft and on the head. Soon I was out of control, my hands grabbed the scruff of his neck and his sweat-damp hair, my grinding hips rose and fell rhythmically as I fucked that beautiful face, feeling the sandpaper effect of his stubble on my overloaded balls.

But before I could find the release I so desperately sought he stopped sucking me. Straddling my body, he moved up towards my face: I reached up and stroked those beautiful hard tits, those excellent arms. Was I in for another face-stabbing? I certainly didn't mind if I was. But when that meat reached my lips, he didn't dive in. The cock passed over my face, as did the marvelous musky balls, and angling his hips he brought instead that gorgeous hairy ass down on my face. Hell, I feasted deep. I could hardly breathe, but I kissed and licked that furry crack; my tongue probed his tight butt-hole. His smell was unbelievable, hot and wild like the forest itself. He writhed on top of me, clearly driven crazy by my tongue work. He slid back down my body, and I hardly had time to gasp for breath before he positioned his now slick butt over my throbbing head and letting his weight do the work impaled himself on my cock. Entering him felt so good, and his frown of concentration was soon replaced by a big dumb-ass grin as he felt me inside him. With one hand I worked his hard cock, with the other I felt up his stomach to one hairy tit, knotting the black fur in my fingers, squeezing the bulging muscle. Was I losing my mind, or was it a trick of the moonlight? But somehow, he almost seemed to be getting hairier: sweat shone on his shoulders, pooled in the little v of his collarbone, streamed down his rippling flanks. His massive chest rose and fell as his breathing speeded up. Just using his powerful legs, he rode up and down my hot meat: I thrust my hips up to meet him on each plunge. Animal growls of pleasure filled his throat, and he leaned forward and dug his nails (had they grown too?) into my own firm tits. Throwing back his head and sliding onto me to the greatest depth, he let out a howl like the one I'd heard before he came to me.

This one was answered by a dozen others from the trees outside the circle, all of different timbre and duration. Then as I looked around more naked men emerged from the shadows, stepping into the circle from between the stones: twelve men all as muscular as my stud, and all sporting huge erections. They came to the centre and formed a circle around us. Their average age appeared to be about thirty, the same as my man, but one looked older, his still thick chest hair grizzled to a salt-and-pepper grey, but he was still in terrific shape and his cock and balls were enormous. One was just a kid, barely eighteen but with a well-defined musculature that promised much, as did the diamond wisp of fur between his compact tits and the fine down of dark hair on his legs. Some were as dark as my man, but about half were different shades of blonde, their chest hair turned to gold in the cold moonlight. They all wore the same gold bracelet on their right wrists. All of them were working their meat and loving it. Now they were shoulder to shoulder around us, the hottest stuff started happening. Hands strayed to neighbours' cocks, stroked tits and caressed muscular arms; tongues and teeth lapped and bit at nipples and armpits.

Deep kisses were exchanged all round, hands rubbed hard butts, fingers probed tight holes. Strings of pre-cum covered us like gossamer. Low growls and moans filled the air. The same hot man-smell I knew from my guy intensified. Some of them spat on my face, chest and stomach, the same silky stuff that had sheathed my cock earlier. My man rubbed it into my chest and arms, where it mingled with my sweat, forming a shimmering gloss on my muscles. I was just about ready to burst, when my man climbed off my cock and joined the circle. My hand was now on my cock, and the wave of imminent orgasm was burning my whole body. With a loud growl, my guy burst out three long streams of cum which splashed my torso from my groin to my throat. Accompanied by similar noises the rest also spilled all they had onto me: hot spunk landed on me from all directions, on my chest and stomach, on my face, and some on my cock adding more slick lubricant to my pounding fist. That finished me. My spine arched, my aching balls spasmed, and wad after wad of thick white cum flew out of me, joining theirs on my heaving chest. Exhaustion and ecstasy overtook me; I felt consciousness fading away. The last thing I remembered before the complete dark was many hot hands stroking my spunk-slicked body, and rough wet tongues lapping me all over.

The cold and light woke me the next morning. The sky above was bright blue, but it was obviously still too early for the sun to have really warmed up the day. I rolled out of the foetal ball I'd been sleeping in and stretched myself. Despite the mess I must have been in, my body was entirely clean; and looking down at myself I had the strange feeling that there was a little more muscle mass than there had been. Wow, last night must have been quite a work out! Was my chest hair really just a little bit denser too? No marks visible except a circle of red weals round each tit, where those claws had dug in. Judging by my sore neck, I guess I had quite a few hickeys too. These reflections were interrupted by the bizarre sight of thirteen rabbit carcasses arranged in a small circle around me, each one with its throat neatly torn out. Nice. Thanks guys!

Dodging this carnage I made my way over to my clothes where I'd left them on the lip of the saucer. While dressing, I found myself idly counting the stones in the circle: to my surprise the first time I counted they came to fourteen; but I must have still been dozy, because subsequent tallies could only bring it to thirteen. Shaking out my shirt, a chunky gold bracelet fell to the ground; I gazed at it in my hand, feeling its natural warmth before slipping it in my pocket. When I was dressed I took one last look at the circle before leaving: well, I'd certainly found what I was after here.

As I made my way back down the hill my mind strayed back to last night and that hot session, caught like a movie in my mind by the light of the moon. That moon ... it had been so fat, so bright, it could only have been a night or so away from the full. I guessed in that case I'd have some pretty big life-style choices to make if I was to make a return trip to the hill anytime soon ... if I really had any choice at all.



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