Benjie’s & His Dad

This story takes places while Benjie was in high school and while he was visiting his father. Remember Benjie’s parents are divorced. 

One Night

The clank of the heavy metal weight bar hitting the steel rack of the bench is heard echoing throughout the weight room. The metallic sound bounces off the mirrored walls which form the four-corners of the walled room. There are only four men in the small storefront gym. Ethan and his childhood friend, Ware, are among those in the small gym.

“Ware, can I get a spot from you?” Ethan asks.

Ware is an old buddy from school. It had been years since we had seen each other.

Ethan had left town years ago, moved off to the big city to live his life, with his second wife, Trish. They never considered moving back to town, but his mother-in-law had fallen ill so they have moved back to care for her, at least for now. But Ethan is rapidly rising in his company so the possibilities for advancement are looming on the horizon. As are other moves.

Ethan had considered looking for a house around the Lakes, where he once lived as a kid, when he stumbled upon Ware, his childhood friend, as he jogged about the Lakes on a cool September morning.

Ware was lugging his trashcan to the curb with only his bathrobe on and little else, it seems. The bathrobe flaps about, hardly covering what Ware had been strategically trying to conceal underneath his barely fastened robe. The hair on his chest, up and down his legs and abdomen, was all he could see along with his childhood friends tightly packaged black bikini brief barely containing his cock inside it. They talked for about ten minutes before he resumed his run. They said that they would meet up. Later. They both promised. Childhood chums make promises to each other they are supposed to keep. He told himself. Numbers were exchanged on that morning too. Ethan had been patiently waiting for the phone to ring. It brought back long buried memories of their now long-stagnated friendship when they talked that foggy morning on his jog.

Some weeks passed before Ethan got ‘that call’ he had been expecting; Ware said about the two of them meeting up at the Plaza Gym and doing a workout together that night of the same day he called.

Ethan happily said, “Yes. Yes,” he answered without haste on the long-awaited invitation. And. “Sure. Sure.” Followed next. His enthusiasm was all too apparent. He heard it in his own voice.

They used to ride the same school bus together back in the day when Ethan lived around the Lakes when they met each other back in the sixth-grade year. Back then, he, Ethan, was the one who lived here. Around the Lakes.

The Lakes had gone down, some of the houses looked cheaper and not up to the high standards that once seemed to be the rule there back in the late seventies and the early eighties.

Ware gently puts his hands underneath the weighted bar as Ethan lowers and re-lifts it. He grunts and groans as he boastfully counts aloud the reps he is doing.

“Lift it man! Lift it! Lift it! Lift it!”

The sweat pours from his pores like a leaking spigot as he strains against gravity and the dire weight of the bar he is lifting.

“C’mon man! C’mon man! You can do it!”

Ethan can feel his back bend from the bench as he lifts the weighted bar above his chest, back up to the height of the rest on the weight bench.

Through his cut-off tee, he sees his bicep’s strain and flex under the pressure of the weight. In his shorts, he can feel his cock grow hard as the adrenaline surges through him while the blood fuels the veins that fill his over-exerted body.

“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” He says aloud as he does the final rep before Ware helps him place the weighted bar back into the bench rest.

“Way to go. Way to go, man!” Ware lauds Ethan. “THAT WAS FUCKING AWESOME, BROTHER!”

Ethan shifts up from the bench, his ass, rolling, in place, as he maneuvers into an upright-seated position, pulling his sweat-drenched cut-off tee over his head. He then wipes the sweat from his chest, with that tee, as the muscles on his chest respond to the pressure of the weight-lift aftermath.

“Not bad for a man who was once nearly 20 lbs. overweight, uh?” Ethan says.

“I can’t see it, I just can’t, man, you were the tall scrawny bean pole of a kid, and over 6 foot tall even back in high school,” Ware says, “…but you sure as shit aren’t now. You are massive.”

“I am no longer a teen either.” Ethan says.

Both men laugh. The joke between them known only to them.

“Spot me, now, Ethan.”

Ethan does not bother to put his tee back on. He discards the tee onto the carpeted floor, while he gives his cock, a slight tug, in his shorts. He has never been one to wear anything underneath his shorts when he worked out. Back in his high school weightlifting class, Coach told the all-male class that they did not have to. So, none of the boys ever did, Ware was in that class too. It was the first time he had seen Ware’s cock.

His tall wiriness did not help him back in those bygone days of high school. It did not matter how much he ate or how much he exercised, he never seemed able to bulk up like Ware did. The odd thing was that once he went off to college, in his first year, he went from having a slim 29-inch waist to a 32-inch waist. And he seemed to pack on the muscle too. It was as if that miraculous change happened overnight.  Being that he is over 6-foot, he strikes an imposing figure. Everyone noticed him. Finally.

“Hey man, you gonna watch out for me or are you gonna fucking daydream?” Ware says, “You did that same shit back when we were in high school as we worked out.”

“Yeah! Yeah!” Ethan murmurs under his breath.

Ethan stares down at Ware. Ware’s hairy legs are straddling the bench, one on either side. His head is underneath the weight-rest. His chest heaves up and down, in his torn wife-beater tank top. His short cotton fleece shorts are steadily creeping up into the eaves of his well-muscled thighs. The recognizable package created by the bunching-up of his shorts, says he is underwear-less too. Ware has aged well and only grown more muscular over time; unlike the path he had taken before he began to lose the weight of his approaching middle age. He is pale in comparison to his childhood friend, but he is well on his way back to a respectable man in his middle age years or at least what one should strive to look like.

When he saw Roderick for the massage in St. Pete, months back, he did not divulge to the man of his weight gain. And loss. By that time the signs of being overweight had diminished and only the muscle was apparent. He has seen Roderick several times since the first visit. He has been back to St. Pete for other meetings. And seen Roderick each time.

Ware lifts the weight bar, with more added weight than what he lifts.

Ware’s grunts and moans, louder than his own, fills the room.

The bells on the front door of the gym ring and clang, clang as the two other male patrons exit the gym after their work out.

“Are they gone?” Ware asks.

Ethan looks around the gym, turning his blond-haired head from one corner of the gym, to the other.

“Yes. Yes, it is just us. I think.”

Ware eases his cock out of the leg of his short-shorts. His fleshy-hued trouser snake peeks and shines against the dark hairs of his muscled leg. The bulbous cockhead is enflamed bright and shiny with blood in its massive hardness.

“Man, you sure as fuck haven’t changed much.” Ethan, says. “You still have no shame.”

“Why should I,” Ware says, “If I could work-out naked. I would. I would.”

“That is exactly what you said back in high school, too.”

“At least, I am consistent.”

“Yep, you are,” Ethan says.

“Are the blinds closed?”

“Yep.”

Ware grabs either side of his shorts and shimmies them down his thick muscular thighs and legs, lifting them up, into the air, from his laying down position. He can feel the cool air of the gym air conditioner breathe across his exposed ass. The A/C fans the tiny hairs that weave their way up the hairy crack of his ass.

“AHHH!”

“Hey, whatcha gonna do when Ryan comes back?” Ethan says.

“He knows what I do. He is OK with it.”

“What? You ain’t serious?” Ethan says, “You aren’t fucking serious?”

“He knows. He knows.”

“He knows?” Ethan asks. “Like the fuck he does?”

“Yep, he does.” Ware says, “Go ahead and take those damned shorts off. You know you want to. I know you do.”

Ethan looks around, to the door with the closed shades, blocking out the rest of the world, as well as the shades that cover the rest of the large storefront windows in the front of the gym.

“No one can see in, believe me, no one can see in,” Ware says, “Believe me. I have been working out this way, in here, for years. C’mon, man, relax. Ryan usually joins in with me when he comes back before he closes for the night.”

“He usually comes back to the gym after he goes home and eats supper with his wife?”

Ware nods his head in ‘yes.’

Ethan lowers his similarly short fleece shorts. He is fully naked now, except for his snow-white New Balance athletic shoes. The cool air whispers over his body making his cock grow even harder than it was in the tight confines of his shorts.

“Better?” Ware asks. As he stands from the weight bench and lifts his worn wife-beater tank top tee over his head. He is naked too, except for his shoes.

Ethan does not answer but his horizontally pendulum-swinging hard cock, hitting on either side of his hairy muscled-thigh, is the definite answer of ‘yes,’ the same sound that Ware often heard in their exploratory youth.

In the mirror, Ethan likes what he sees. His cock is much bigger now than what it was when he was a seventeen-year-old boy. His cock, since then has been heavily worked out, back then, as a teen he only used his hand, now as a father of one son and age, he has experienced much. He would lose his virginity in college, in one of the dark back bedrooms of the frat house, to some girl that he would never ever see again. At least that was one of the virginities he lost. There are more than one. That he would learn about. And he lost all those too.

Ware walks up and stands next to him, two men approaching middle age, glaring over at the bare visage of the other, much as any man would do, when he is naked in the company of other men. Men do it all the time. But many are apt to deny they do it.

“Not too bad for a coupla middle aged gents, uhhh, Ethan? Are we?”

“Nope.” Ethan responds.

Each man has a chest full of densely matted fur, patterned and unshaven, with the years of weightlifting keeping him as firm as his age has allowed. Ethan is slightly taller than Ware, who is at an even 6-foot, although Ware is the stockier (or the more compact) of the two men. He is not fat, muscles ripple across his Hulk-like bulking frame.

Both men are sporting raging hard-on’s, shooting out from their equally muscled thighs. This phallic compass is not lost on either man. Each had jacked-off together in their teens, busting their first vials of nut-juice in the presence of the other. To see each other, in their nakedness, does not faze them. Now. They saw each other naked in the woods. In the locker room at the high school. But it has been years since they have seen the other in their naked splendor. And Ethan is still enamored by his high school chum.

“You suppose our sons have done this? Seen each other naked?” Ware asks, “Since they are now playing on the same high school varsity football team together.”

Ware whips his hips, harshly, as does Ethan, popping their cocks on their inner thighs, making their tools throb and pulse (and get harder) with their self-inflicted abuse. Each cock slings its juice, from deep within each of their pent-up balls, across the open face of their bodies. Ball-juice lands, squarely, on the mirror in front of them, little droplets of their pre-juiced cum splatter the once clean mirror, like liquid machine gun fire.

Each man stops with their whirling machinations, their cock-helicoptering, done in mere seconds, doing what each had not done since their teenage years, together. Proud of their manhood.

“I suppose so,” Ethan, answers, “We did it back in high school in the field house, remember, back in that weight-lifting class. Yeah, but I did not play football, though, like you did.”

“You were the lanky guy back then, not so now. Not so now, at all,” Ware says, “You filled out good. I have to say.”

Both men stand transfixed by the shared masculinity in front of them. Each of their four eyes, survey the nakedness, on the spattering pre-cum riddled mirror that reflects to the men what each man possesses.

“DAMN IT, WARE!” an angry voice booms from behind them, “I told you to keep that cock in your shorts and now you’ve gone and got Ethan mixed up in your narcissistic bullshit.”

It is Ryan, the owner of The Plaza Gym. He has returned from his evening mean with his wife.

“You didn’t say he could not exercise naked?” Ethan says, caught off-guard.

“FUCK NO ETHAN! I DID NOT! FUCK NO!” Ryan says with an angered tone in his voice, “Both of y’all put your damned shorts back on. Y’all did this same kinda fuckin’ shit back in high school. Coach made y’all two run around the stadium in your gawddamn jockstraps because you did this shit back then. You will never learn will you, Ware? You did not learn then and you sure as shit have not learned now either.”

Ethan leans down, picks up his shorts, and slides them up and over his still raging hard-on. Ware does the same, but the vulgarity of their massive bulges does not go down or even away, in fact, their snake-like mounds in their short-shorts, are even more perverse and noticeable behind the soft fabric of the shorts.

“We are still working-out?” Ware laments, pleading in his voice to Ryan.

“Well, finish up, then, I have to get on back home as soon as I can.” Ryan, bemoans.

Ethan leans in at Ware.

“That’s it. He ain’t throwin’ us out?”

“Nope. Nope, he says the same thing every damn time he catches me. He did not even say anything one time and joined in with me, like I said, I thought he would do it this time too. His wife must not have let him fuck her. It usually happens when he goes home before he finally comes back and closes. He usually carries on about it as we lift. He is as fucking horny as we are, I assure you.”

The weights once again, clank as metal hits metal.

“So, our boys went out camping? Where?” Ethan asks.

“Yeah, Ware Junior said they were going to be at the river. The same place we used to go to when we went camping.”

“Oh!” Ethan says, “The River. We were chums out there. Pals like I hope our sons will be.”

“Oh, is right, we were more than chums, we were more than pals,” sighs Ware, “We were a whole lot more. And I remember all that we did. And we did a whole hell of a lot. Didn’t we? Remember?”

***

RUMBLE. RUMBLE. RUMBLE. RUMBLE. RUMBLE.

The sound of the screeching tires is heard overhead from the many vehicles passing on the concrete bridge, in front of them is the swirling waters of the river. They are seated on the lowered tailgate of Ware Junior’s bright candy-apple red Chevy pick-up.

A blazing fire burns within a few feet directly in front of them. Its warmth radiates outward killing the pesky night’s bugs and other pesky insects and given off much needed light.

“You ready for the big game tomorrow night, Benjie? Your debut?” Ware Junior asks his friend, son of his dad’s best high school friend and now his new friend as he sits next to Benjie on the truck’s tailgate.

Benjie swings his booted feet back and forth, as they both hang off the open tailgate. His button-down shirt is unbuttoned and open, his torn and frayed Levis, unsnapped and unfastened, the zipper ominously slid down and open, slightly, at his waist. He is relaxed, among, a fellow peer and dreading the game that will happen tomorrow night at this same time. A game where he will be catapulted in the spotlight of the football culture of this town.

RUMBLE. RUMBLE. RUMBLE. RUMBLE. RUMBLE. The sound of another vehicle passing overhead on the bridge.

“Wellll, wellll...yeah, somewhat,” Benjie sighs, “I am. I am tense.”

“You’ll be fine, “Ware Junior says, “You just have the jitters, the damned jitters. It is your first game, here.”

Ware Junior jumps from his place on the tailgate near Benjie. His booted feet stirring up a puff of dust once his feet hit the ground.

Ware Junior is in a pair of green and brown holey camo-colored long-johns cut-offs (and nothing else) they go slightly above his knee on his well-muscled teenage legs. Like his father, he is hairy-chested and bursting with his many hard-earned muscles. His shoulder length blonde locks are tucked under a worn and battered, maroon-colored high school baseball cap. Like a bygone Greek God, of the mythical age, his broad muscled body occupies the light cast off from their raging campfire. He walks to the side of the river, pulls down the front of the camo long-john cut-offs, and yanks out his young cock.

The sound of urine hitting the dirt and forming a puddle fills this somewhat silent Thursday night. Puffs of steam rise from his warm piss as it hits the cool night air.

“Ahhhhhh!” He sighs. “Ahhhhh!”

Once he finishes, he shakes the remaining dew from his less-than-limp cock and strokes it a time or two before hesitantly tucking it back inside his camo-cut-offs. Once he turns back around, his cock-package is swollen. It fills the cotton-pocket created by the haphazard cut-offs.

RUMBLE. RUMBLE. RUMBLE. RUMBLE. RUMBLE.

It is another vehicle crossing the overhead bridge.

“I am so fucking horny,” he says, “Damn, I need to fuck. I need to fuck!”

He yells these words from his mouth as his male hormones surge through him.

The sound of his youthful exclamation bounces off the fast-flowing river behind them and echoing under the concrete and steel bridge, they are camped out under.

“I see. I can see it,” Benjie, says, “Are you fuckin’ Mary Beth?”

“The cheerleader?” Ware Junior asks, “Hell no. No. I am not.”

“I hear they call her ‘fish’. Why?”

“They do, “Ware Junior says, “They say she can suck a bowling ball through a damned vacuum cleaner hose.”

“What?” Benjie says, “Has she blown you?”

“No!”

Benjie grabs the front of his jeans and squeezes. His cock is as hard as Ware Juniors.

“I need her mouth on this,” Benjie says as he grips his cock harder, “Do you have her number?”

“What?”

“Do you have her number?” Benjie asks, “Maybe we can call her, get her to come on out here and blow the both of us.”

Benjie grips his jean-covered cock, squeezing it, tighter and tighter, the harder he becomes. He mumbles under his breath at his growing frustration and mounting hormonal instability that courses through him like fire. He fidgets on the open-seat-like tailgate, swinging his feet in a fanning manner of ever-growing frustration.

“She will not do it.”

“Why?” Benjie pleads, “Why? Why?”

There is apparent pent-up anxiety in his whiny pleadings.

“She does not like me,” Ware Junior explains, “She never has. Never has and never will.”

Ware Junior looks to his friend of only of about four months. He sees a leaner more muscled kid, like himself, only slightly taller with stunning blonde hair and equally hairy across the same regions of their manhood, for boys rapidly approaching their eighteenth birthday on Saturday.

Benjie, not built like his dad, Ethan, at this similar age, he has been more successful at the weight and muscle gain, which somehow escaped his dad but not him in the same years of high school. He is also blessed and with an athletic ability not showered on his father when he was at that same age.

“Not even for the new star player at the high school?” Benjie pleads, “Not even for this hard cock? This fucking hard and throbbing man-cock? She would not take it, use it, and abuse it? She would not. I doubt it.”

Benjie yanks out his hard cock from the buried space of his jeans. It points to the heavens at a sharp upward degree angle from his heavily haired groin. On the glaring bulbous head, the leaking 17-year-old boy-man-juice seeps, from the boy to almost man, weeping piss-slit. He smears this cream of his youth over the hard fleshy knob of his cock. The more he wipes the young virile liquid, the more it spills forth from his throbbing power tool. His dagger is somewhat of a lean long organ of nine inches that tears through the night with each frustrated attempt at fruition.

“FUCK MAN! YOU ARE HARD! YOU ARE FUCKING HARD!” Ware Junior says, with his deep, blue-skied eyes bugged out in unabated attention of the display before him, “So am I.”

Benjie’s orb-like balls strained and pressured by the young man’s building frustrations, are like giant marbles you played with as a kid, but what fills these small globes are the very liquid of the essence of life, itself.

Ware Junior massages his throbbing cock inside his camo-covered long-john covered trouser snake.

“You do not think she would swallow this cock. It is so big. It is so fuckin’ huge.”

Ware Junior feels a tongue cross over his bottom lip. This automatic response done without thought, without consequence before he realizes it. He whispers, “Oh shit! Oh shit!” under his breath once, he finishes with the wet lick of his lip. Did Benjie notice this action?

Ware Junior pulls down the front of his cut-off camo long johns. He matches the steely-hardness of his seated friend and bearer of an equally dense forest growth of young boy fur. One more thing shared between these boys of similar maturity.

The sound of another vehicle trudging over the wide expansive bridge over the river carries to where they are. The two barely notice the sound of the pass-over as each are enraptured by the cocks caught within their sights.

“You wanna jack-off?” Ware Junior asks.

“What?”

“Do you wanna jack-off?” Ware Junior says as his hand finds the length of his cock and strokes it.

“I have never jacked off with another guy before,” Benjie says.

“It is no big deal,” Ware Junior says, “I have done it a lot. Even in the locker room with the other guys after we won the State Championship last year. It was a fucking erupting nut-fest.”

Ware Junior slides down his camo cut-offs down, kicking them off to the side in the dust of the riverfront road. He is naked all but for his boots. The blazing yellow, orange, and red flames of the fire cast an eerie glow over his exposed body. His hands are locked on his cock as he double-teams his massive 9-inch stubby boy-cock in his large hands. Drops of his juice seep up from his low hanging balls that dangle between his legs like some fleshy church bells that ring in the town, where he has called home since the day he came home from the hospital.

Benjie throws his shirt from his back onto the pick-up. He joins Ware Junior on the ground as he eases down his jeans, pulling his piss-soaked jockstrap along to the ground at his ankles. The fire dances off him too, washing him over in the multi-colored light.

They match stroke for stroke on each of their idling throbbing cocks. Each hand prime brings their motors to eventual combustion.

The firelight dances over each of their fevered strokes. Bellowed and exhausted “ahhh’s” and “fucks” fill the night air as each of the boy’s looks to the other like some prey caught in a trap.

Benjie’s pulsing cock points to the moon that illuminates the sky. Its angle almost as sharp as a knife, the harder he presses on the swelled cockhead, the bigger it grows. His face is flushed and his legs almost to the point of buckling as he strains against gravity and the control of his body the more, he racks his frantic hands over his cock.

Ware Junior is equally intoxicated by the madness he is provoking on his cock. His eyes are glued like a magnet to his new friends curved cock. This is the first time he has seen such an angle on a man’s cock.

Sweat from the fire and from their hearty bated stroking heats both up. Benjie’s eyes are closed as he nears what he knows is about to happen at this point. Ware Junior operates on automatic pilot, his eyes locked on his friend and his hands behaving in the way they have been trained.

The shouts happen first.

“OHHHHH FUCCCCCKKKK! OHHHHH FUCCCCCKKKK! I AM GONNA CUMMMMMMM!!!!” Benjie barks out, as his milky cum shoots up, as you would imagine an exploding volcano would do from his cock. He pivots and rights his self as he attempts to hold his balance.

His cum sprays forth like an open firehouse coating down Ware Junior’s furry blonde treasure trail, who was as close as he could be, without touching him.

Ware Junior can feel the sensation shoot up his spine. It is his time. Too.

He does not cry out nor does he whimper, he just burst like a dam. He rocks on his feet, trying to hold his balance too as each pulse of his still-hard cock empties his low-hangers.

Both boys breathe and sigh as they are overtaken with the aftereffects of their volatile release. 

“I needed that,” Benjie sighs as he peers down at his spent organ, cum still drips from his tool.

Ware Junior says nothing.

“You are still cumming?”

“I am,” Benjie, answers.

“You are,” Ware Junior says as he squats and swallows Benjie’s leaky cock-spigot.

Benjie moans but does not stop Ware Junior.

“Junior! Junior! You hear that. You hear that. It sounded like a truck cranking up.” Benjie says.

RUMBLE. RUMBLE. RUMBLE. RUMBLE. RUMBLE.

***

“Your kid has quite ‘the cock’ on him,” Ethan says as the truck rumbles over the bridge. Their sons, camped out, underneath, “He did not back up when my boy sprayed him down in his cum.”

“He wouldn’t,” Ware says, in barely an audible whisper, “He likes cock.”

The truck rumbles over the bridge. Ware Senior says nothing.

“Did you hear me, Ware?” Ethan pleads. He did not hear the low audible response.

Again, there is no answer from Ware to Ethan’s repeated question.

“Fuck man, did you see that? Did you fuckin’ see that?”

Ware stays silent.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you not talking to me?”

Ware looks over to the passenger seat and to where Ethan is seated. Both men have their cocks snaked out of the short leg of their shorts. Each is glistening in their swelled-ness, and each is throbbing and pulsing red.

“I want you to fuck me,” Ware says, “Like you did back when we were in high school.”

Now Ethan is the one to ‘go silent.’

Ethan glares back at Ware and the stark realization of what Ware has just said the words drill deep into his brain. It is mere seconds but to Ethan it feels like an eternity.

“What?”

“You know you fucked me back in high school, how many times,” Ware says, “You know you did. I was your first fuck. You were also my first. The first place you dumped your load was in my tight little high school boy ass.”

Ethan, once again, has gone into quiet mode, into silent mode.

The tires rumble and gentle squeak over the bridge until they are in another state. The river is the dividing line between their state and another. Once off the bridge a dirt road runs almost parallel to the river, heading east. Ware turns his truck onto the River’s Edge Road.

The truck bumbles into the boat ramp area while Ware keeps on the ignition. The headlights from the truck shine on the rushing river where the contact is made between the two.

Ware’s right hand is on his cock, peeking out of the leg of his short-shorts from their earlier gym workout. Ethan has fished his cock out, too. Both are stroking the length of their swollen members.

“I mean it, Ethan,” Ware says, “I want you to fuck me. I want you to do it, right now.”

Ware leans over and kisses Ethan on his mouth, just as he had done in high school. Ethan does not resist; he grabs either side of Ware’s head and brings him in closer into him. Their tongues slathered in their own juices, as they fight like vipers, as their scruffiness from their unshaven faces rake over each other in their masculinity.

“I want your cock in my ass, Ethan! I want it!”

“I have not fucked a man since I did you back in high school,” Ethan says, “We did it down there where our boys are…right now.” (This is a lie.)

“I know. I know,” Ware, says, “I wish we were down there now, too.”

“With the boys?”

“NO!” Ethan says sharply, “Let the boys do what they are going to do, like we did. I want to fuck you. I wanted to fuck you that very morning when I saw you at The Lakes. You teased me that day, didn’t you? You knew.”

“I thought the same when I saw you,” Ware says, “I wanted you to fuck me at the gym. I tease everyone. I am not ashamed.”

Ware reaches from his position and squeezes Ethan’s peeking squirming cock, poking its elongated body from the wondrous region, ‘in the land ‘neath the sweaty shorts.’

Ethan moans and heaves as he feels his now-reconnected friend apply more pressure.

“FUCK ME! FUCK ME!” Ware demands as he squeezes tighter on Ethan’s cock.

Ethan reaches to the side and lifts the door handle. He scoots out of the passenger side as Ware does the same on the driver’s side. Ware drops his shorts to the ground, once his sneakers hit, and trudges to the back of the still-purring pick-up. The smell of gas and excitement fuel the air. The headlights of the truck still illuminate the trees and the river just beyond the reach of where the truck idles.

Ethan is there, his shorts slung over the now lowered tailgate, his right hand on his cock, priming it and smearing the seeping cum-juice over the embattled red cockhead.

“You want this?”

“YES! YES!” Ware’s deep and resonant baritone voice overrides the purring of the still-running truck’s engine.

The sound of the dropping truck tailgate, it is the metal sound reverberating through the cleared area of the boat ramp area.

There are no words. They have been here before. The dropped tailgate is the sign whose meaning is clearly understood.

Ware’s beefy hocks are on full display. Tiny dark hairs dot his ass and fill the crack of his buttocks. The image brings back to Ethan a Thanksgiving-like feast that he had once partaken in, lo, those many years in the past. The years of weightlifting have crafted his thighs and legs into powerful instruments.

Ware wiggles his ass, just as he had in the past, sliding his feet in the brown dirt, making the access, easier. The muscles giggle, enticing Ethan, as it had done in the past.

“You know you what to do,” Ware says as he looks over his shoulder into the dark brown eyes of Ethan.

Ethan squats. His cock swings between his legs, almost touching the sandy soil. He can smell the sweet scent of sweat reeking from Ware’s spread- furry ass. Ethan breathes in the musky aroma. He does not exhale but a slight breeze from his nose does whisper across the fine ass hairs there.

Ware shutters at the whisper. Ethan does it again. The muscled ass giggles.

Ethan leans in, his nose is within a breathes-width of Ware’s hairy crack. His tongue darts from his mouth, snaking away the still dripping sweat from the earlier evening’s intense workout.

The manly musk fills his nostrils, as his nose creeps further up his ass, sniffing the fragrance, while his tongue feeds on the afterglow of their shared workout. The moans escape from Ware’s mouth, the deeper Ethan delves into him.

Ethan stands, their shared juices of spit and excess mingle in a wetly lube in Ware’s ass.

“FUCK ME ETHAN!” Ware yells out, “FUCK ME ETHAN!”

Ethan stands, his cock, like his son’s points perversely toward the moonlit sky. He slides his cock into the rimmed ass expecting it to be tighter but his cock eases in. Because of the angle of his power-tool, he is snugger against the ass of his former lover and newly re-found friend.

“You’ve been fucked?”

“Every week…,” Ware says, “…by Buddy Dees…out in the backwoods of his property…but you have always been the best at pluggin’ my sweet liddle hole.”

“Our former high school’s quarterback?”

“The same,” Ware says, “He has always loved my ass. Still does. Man, does he love to fill it with his cock.”

The strength gained from the earlier workout fuels Ethan. He shoves his cock all the way into Ware’s parted ass. His pubes mingle and disappear in with the delicate feathery ass-hairs belonging to Ware. Into this mixture, the pre-cum pumped from Ethan’s balls and the sweat fueled by their furious fucking.

Ware leans back, arching his back as he squirms down ‘the hook-cock’ of Ethan. Ethan’s rough calloused right-hand rakes across Ware’s furred pecs, squeezing him tighter onto his cock. He rocks and shoves his cock, harder and harder, into the squishy hole of Ware.

Their moans, groans, and sighs fill the night air. The critters scatter in the dense woods at the ruckus commences under the illuminated moonlight. Some even sit and watch these two male animals stir in their provoked frenzy, intertwined in each other’s bodies. Like it is one of those high-priced animated movies. Ethan pushes up, shoving his cock, deeper, as far as he can into Ware’s ass. Ware bucks, trying to stay on longer than the proverbial 8-seconds on Ethan’s untamed bull of a cock.

“FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!” the screams bellow out like a maniac as Ethan plunges ever deeper into his hole.

The men are soaked with sweat, and their own juices, as ‘the wilding’ continues.

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Is all Ethan is uttering as he pounds his cock like a human jack-hammer. The more he exerts himself, the wilder he becomes. He is drenched in sweat as he wipes it from his face as he squeezes Ware’s back further onto his chest.

Ware rides Ethan, exceeding the time allotted for such a sustained prolonging. He grabs at the air, reaching for what he can as he feels Ethan’s cock plunge itself to ever-furry hilt into his ass.

He yells, as he is ripped in two, some would venture to say he is being torn asunder. Ethan is a much more experienced lover, now than he was back in the blessed days of high school.

“FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!” Ware yells as he is further impaled.

He wants more. He wants more, he wants all that Ethan has to offer.

Ethan pounds, harder and harder, is driving his fully engorged and throbbing cock deeper into Ware’s well-lubed hole, after their workout. After seeing Ware, in his magnificent splendor it has ignited him. He has not fucked an ass since their days in high school since Ware. He has missed the splendid tightness of the squeeze of Ware ass as it wiggles tighter on his cock.

“Tighten your ass!” Ethan demands, “Yes. Yes, that’s it…squeeze my cock.”

Ware does, the velvety silkiness of his ass, milking the cock that squirms there. The more Ware grips the steel-hard cock that rivets his ass, Ethan whimpers at the pressure being applied, mounts.

            “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” Ethan screams as his balls explode forth their potent and rich milky white jizz into Ware’s now-stretched and filled hairy hole.

The sweat pours, like buckets, from Ethan’s pores, across his back and from his wet matted chest hairs, as he slows on the ass pounding. He shivers, then, quakes, as the ecstasy of his abundant release travels through his spent body.

            Each thrust shoot Ethan’s cream, deeper, into the clinched tight hole that is Ware’s ass. Then his pullout is fast, beckoning a squeal from Ware’s mouth as Ethan’s cock-crown brushes across and breeches the ass-lips of his clinched hole.

            Ethan collapses on Ware, his drenched body draped over the leaking hole of his exit.

            “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” Ethan yells from the top of his lungs, once the precious liquid from his balls is deposited in Ware’s hole, “Man, I have I missed that sweet, sweet ass of yours.”

To be continued.