Night transformed the campground.
Strings of lights glowed between trailers and decks while golf carts rolled slowly along the narrow roads beneath the dark pine canopy. Music drifted through the trees from several directions at once. Men Zack had seen lounging around the pool all afternoon now wandered toward the large blue clubhouse in groups, carrying drinks and laughing.
Zack walked beside Bear, naked except for the flip-flops Bear had loaned him. At twenty-one, he was slim and lightly toned, with a narrow waist, long legs, and smooth, pale skin scattered with freckles across his shoulders and chest. A mop of thick brown curls fell untidily around his youthful face, refusing to stay wherever he pushed it, while large sea-green eyes stood out beneath dark brows. His straight nose, lightly freckled cheeks, and almost unfairly perfect smile gave him a boyishly handsome look that contrasted with how thoroughly convinced Zack remained that he was nothing special. He glanced down and noticed something… he wasn't nervous. Well, he was a little nervous. Zack suspected nervous might simply be one of his permanent personality traits. But he wasn't trying to hide.
“Big crowd tonight,” Bear said.
At sixty-two, Bear was impossible to miss even with clothes on. He wore loose black shorts, a faded sleeveless T-shirt and sandals, leaving his thick, muscular arms exposed. White hair covered his forearms and spilled above the collar of the shirt, standing out against his deep tan. His bald head and neatly trimmed white beard completed the rugged daddy look, while his strong shoulders, round belly and sheer physical size made Zack look even smaller walking beside him.
Zack looked down at his soft, 3 inch cock and small, almost hairless balls (he was a 6 inch grower, but definitely not a shower), then looked at Bear and sighed. “You're dressed again Master.”
Bear glanced over. “You're observant again.”
“I'm beginning to notice a pattern.”
Bear's beard twitched. Zack decided that counted as winning the exchange.
The big blue barn-like clubhouse was already packed when they arrived. Folding tables filled the room, crowded with campground regulars and weekenders. Bingo cards and brightly colored daubers competed for space with beer cans, plastic cups and bowls of snacks.
At the front of the room stood Velveeta Goldmine. “Welcome back, you degenerates!”
Velveeta was somewhere north of fifty—Zack suspected asking precisely how far north might get him killed—and gloriously committed to excess. She was a large, broad-shouldered drag queen in a shimmering gold gown covered in sequins, with an enormous platinum-blond wig piled high above heavily painted eyes. Glitter sparkled across her cheeks, enormous rhinestone earrings brushed her shoulders, and glossy red lips curved into the expression of a woman delighted to have a microphone and a captive audience.
The room cheered. Velveeta raised one hand. “And welcome to our visitors. If this is your first drag bingo at The Pines, congratulations on making several questionable life choices that have finally paid off.”
Zack laughed as Bear steered him toward their table. Richard and Mark were already there.
“About damn time,” Richard said. In his early fifties, Richard was a massive, old-school muscle bear with broad shoulders, thick arms and a barrel chest covered in graying hair. His silver hair and full beard made him look slightly older than Mark, and tonight he wore cut-off denim shorts, flipflops and a sleeveless denim shirt that seemed designed primarily to demonstrate that sleeves had surrendered years ago.
Mark slid a beer toward Bear. “Ignore him. He's been bitching since we got here.” Also in his early fifties, Mark was every bit Richard's physical match but slightly more polished, with short brown hair going gray at the temples, a neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard and enormous arms. Dark hair covered the chest visible through his fitted black tank, which he'd paired with khaki shorts and sandals.
“You took twenty minutes to find a parking spot,” Richard complained.
“You were driving.”
“Because you can't park.”
“It is literally a golf cart.”
Zack sat down beside Bear. He loved them.
Steven and Tucker arrived a few minutes later.
“Did we miss anything?” Steven asked. At forty, Steven remained the least visually intimidating Dom Zack could imagine. He had short brown hair, neatly trimmed stubble and the soft, round body of a man whose relationship with the gym was cordial but distant. Tonight he wore khaki shorts, loafers and a pale-blue polo tucked neatly over his belly, making him look even more like an accountant attending a company picnic.
Tucker followed him completely naked except for his leather collar and sandals. “Nope,” Tucker said, dropping into the chair beside Zack. At twenty-eight, Tucker looked almost absurd sitting next to Steven. His dark hair was neatly pushed back, framing a handsome face and strong jaw, while broad shoulders tapered into a narrow waist above powerful legs. His chest and stomach were sharply defined and mostly smooth.
Tucker leaned toward Zack. “I love my Master but I don’t know why he dressed like that on purpose.”
Steven pointed at him. “Don't start.”
Zack laughed.For once, sitting naked in a crowded room wasn't even among the five strangest things happening around him.
Drag bingo turned out to be complete chaos. Velveeta alternated between calling numbers and insulting anyone foolish enough to attract her attention. Richard and Mark argued about whether Mark had missed B-12. Steven repeatedly accused Tucker of cheating despite producing no evidence whatsoever. Tucker kept stealing Zack's dauber. Zack laughed so much his face hurt.
Then Bear tapped his arm. Zack looked down. Five squares. “Oh! You got it Sir!” Bear calmly lifted his beer. Zack's excitement evaporated. He knew that look.
“Call it,” Bear instructed.
Zack stared at him. “Master.”
One white eyebrow rose. After that morning, Zack had learned that finishing that sentence would probably cost him five swats. He stood. “Bingo.” Nobody heard him. Bear leaned back and cupped one enormous hand behind his ear. Zack glared at him. Asshole. He took a breath. “BINGO!”
Half the clubhouse turned. Someone whistled. From another table came a familiar yell. “GO ZACK!” Tyler.
Zack's entire body flushed. Velveeta spotted him. “Well, hello there!”
Zack considered sitting down and pretending none of this had happened.
Velveeta crooked one glittering finger. “Bring me that card, sweetheart.”
Bear handed Zack the winning card. “Go collect my prize, boy.”
Zack looked toward the front of the packed clubhouse. Then back at Bear. Bear waited. Zack swallowed. “Yes, Master.” He started walking.
Yesterday, crossing a crowded room naked would have been Zack's personal vision of hell. Tonight people cheered. Someone called his name. One of the frat boys whistled. Zack's freckles vanished beneath the red spreading across his face, but somewhere around the halfway point sheer embarrassment tipped over into absurdity. Zack started laughing. By the time he reached Velveeta, he was grinning.
She checked Bear's card. Then she looked Zack slowly up and down. Then she looked back at the card. “Well,” she announced into the microphone, “I don't know what the prize is, but apparently we've already won.”
The clubhouse erupted. Zack covered his face. “Oh my God.”
Velveeta handed him Bear's prize. “Go on, gorgeous. Your daddy's waiting.”
Zack turned. Across the room, Bear was smiling. Not laughing. Smiling. Zack lowered his hands. Then he walked back. Still naked. Still blushing. But no longer trying to disappear. When he reached the table, he handed Bear the prize. “There.”
Bear's large hand settled against Zack's lower back. “Good boy.”
That ridiculous little glow immediately bloomed inside Zack's chest. “Thank you, Master.”
Near the end of drag bingo, after Velveeta Goldmine had thoroughly embarrassed Zack in front of what felt like the entire campground and Bear had collected his prize, Bear remained standing. Zack noticed first. That was rarely good. Bear raised his voice. “Before everybody disappears—party behind my trailer tonight.” That got an immediate response from the regulars. Apparently Bear announcing a party required very little explanation. “Bring whatever you're drinking. Fire'll be going. Music'll be on. Everybody's welcome.”
Zack smiled. That actually sounded fun.
Then Bear put one heavy hand on Zack's shoulder. “And my boy will be first up in the sling, eager for loads!”
The clubhouse erupted. Zack's smile vanished. His sea-green eyes went enormous. Slowly, he looked up at Bear. “Master.”
Bear's expression was infuriatingly calm. Across the table, Tucker was already laughing. Richard nearly choked on his beer. Mark slapped him on the back while Steven looked delighted by the entire development.
From the front of the room, Velveeta raised her microphone. “Oh, honey.” The broad-shouldered drag queen glittered beneath the clubhouse lights in her enormous blond wig and gold sequined gown, looking like a disco ball had achieved consciousness. “Sounds like the after-party has a door prize.”
The room roared with laughter, hollers and cheers. Zack buried his burning face in both hands.
Bear rubbed the back of his neck. “You wanted to work on being shy.”
Zack peeked at him through his fingers. “This feels like an advanced course.”
That got another laugh from Bear. “Good boy.”
By the time Zack and Bear returned to the semicircle of trailers, Richard and Mark had already switched on the strings of lights over the communal backyard. Warm bulbs glowed beneath the black silhouettes of the pine branches overhead. Music played from speakers beneath the canopy, and beyond it the fire pit cast flickering orange light into the surrounding trees.
Bear hadn't been kidding about the sling. Zack stopped when he saw it waiting beneath the canopy.
Tucker walked over with two shots and handed one to Zack. “Cheers!” he said and the both downed their shots. Tucker leaned in and whispered “I put a little something extra in to help you relax. Don’t tell Bear.” Then the muscle boy kissed his cheek and skipped off.
Bear ushered Zack to the sling and helped him get in. “Get comfortable, boy. You've got company coming.”
The first golf cart arrived before Zack could formulate an argument. Then another. And another. Naked or barely clothed men of all ages, shapes and cock sizes started pouring into the area. “Master?” Zack asked nervously.
“Don’t worry boy. I’ve got first dibs,” Bear said, spreading lube on the twink’s hole and scissoring him open with two thick fingers.
Zack sucked in a pained breath, but the burn and stretch quickly turned to pleasure and he begged “Please fuck me Master, I need your cock in me.”
Bear grinned and drove his cock in balls-deep in one harsh motion, causing Zack to cry out with a mix of pleasure and pain, and earning a few cheers from the group of guys forming around the sling. Bear began to pump slowly in and out of Zack for a few minutes while a line formed behind him. Once Zack was opened up he pulled his cock out, “Make me proud boy,” and walked away.
Zack felt a warm sensation stir in his chest as he stared at the dozen men waiting to fuck him and was relieved to see Mike, the campground owner Zack had met that morning, was first in line. In his mid-fifties, Mike was a big, burly white man with a barrel chest, thick arms, and a solid build. Short salt-and-pepper hair framed his weathered face, and a heavy matching beard covered his square jaw. He was naked tonight, revealing a moderately hairy chest, strong legs, and a comfortable belly that made him look powerful rather than gym-sculpted. Mike stroked his 7 inch, beer can-thick cock. “Ready boy?”
“Yes, Sir.”
The corner of Mike's mouth twitched and he slowly pressed his super thick cock into Zack’s ass. Zack squirmed and squealed. “You can take it boy, just breathe,” Mike encouraged. He grabbed Zack’s thighs and pushed all the way in. “Fuck yeah, that’s a tight cunt.” Zack moaned and Mike began fucking the 21-year-old twink harder and harder.
At some point Zack felt his head start to swim and his mind relax. He felt so horny, like Mike could crawl into him and it still wouldn’t be enough. “Please fuck me Sir! Breed me! I need your cum!” Mike’s face dripped with sweat as he let out a loud grunt and unloaded his cock into Zack’s hole.
“Fuck boy,” Mike said pulling out.
Zack whimpered, his hole feeling so empty. “Please fuck me,” he begged the next stranger in line. He was twenty-five and almost Zack's physical opposite despite being close to his age. Tall and graceful, with smooth, deep-brown skin, a slender athletic build, long legs, and close-cropped black hair. His handsome face was narrow, with high cheekbones, expressive dark eyes, and a neatly shaped goatee. Completely naked except for a thin gold chain around his neck, he carried himself with the kind of effortless confidence Zack couldn't imagine possessing. His cock looked like it was a solid 9 inches. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll make you feel real good.” Zack moaned, gripping the straps of sling tightly as the tall, young stud rhythmically rocked his long cock in and out of Zack, brushing against the boy’s prostate, causing Zack’s own smaller cock to leak onto his smooth stomach. After a solid 15 minutes the tall stranger ramped up his pace and pounded his load into Zack’s hole.
Next up was a stocky Latino man in his early thirties with thick black hair, a short beard, and warm brown eyes. He stood only a little taller than Zack but was nearly twice as broad, with powerful thighs, thick arms, and dark hair covering his chest, stomach, and legs. He was naked except for leather sandals and carried a beer in one hand. “Mira ese culo todo fofo,” he said, shoving his 6 inch cock into Zack without even setting his beer down.
“What Sir?” Zack managed to mumble, his eyes glazed with lust, booze and whatever Tucker had slipped him.
The Latino man grinned. “Just enjoy the ride nene.”
Zack's head lulled back and he moaned as the man bred a third load into his ass.
Behind the stocky Latino was a tall, lean white man around thirty-eight with reddish-blond hair, rectangular glasses, and so many freckles across his pale shoulders and chest that Zack thought it was his uncle Zeek for a second. He had a wiry runner's build rather than obvious muscle and a light covering of reddish body hair. Completely naked, his thick 8 inch cock looked even bigger attached to his lean body. The tall ginger wiped some of the cum leaking out of Zack’s ass and shoved for fingers into Zack’s open mouth. Zack greedily sucked the cum from the man’s hand and felt the man shove his cock in him and pound him with sharp, hard thrusts. The man kept his finger’s in Zack’s mouth, choking the boy as he fucked him. “Take my load you sloppy fucking whore,” the lanky freckled man moaned and Zack began to spit up saliva. Just when Zack thought the man was going to make him sick he pulled his hand away and grunted loudly as he came. The man smiled down at Zack and smeared the spit and cum on the boy’s face and said “Thanks kid.”
Zack smiled then licked his lips as he saw the next man in line. The man was impossible to overlook. Somewhere in his mid-forties, he was a broad, muscular Black man with a shaved head, a salt-and-pepper goatee, and a deep, easy laugh, “Let me see this poor kid everybody's been talking about.” His naked body combined an impressive chest and massive arms with a generous belly, while dark hair dusted his powerful legs. “You’re a mess boy.” He turned to the crowd and yelled, “Someone get this kid a towel or something!” Someone tossed the large man a towle and he wiped off Zack’s face and then slowly pressed his enormous black cock into the twink’s cum-filled hole
Zack smiled despite himself. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Don't ‘Sir’ me. You'll make me feel old,” the large man said as he built up a rhythm, fucking Zack faster.
“You're forty-six,” someone called from behind him.
The man turned. “And you're ugly, but I wasn't gonna bring it up.”
The line erupted. Zack did too, but his laugh quickly turned into a moan as felt his own release building in his cock. “Fuck me! Oh Fuck me I’m close!”
“Cum for me boy,” the large black man said fucking him strong and steady, “Show me what the little white dick can do.”
The black man’s humiliating words lit a fire in Zack - his balls tightened and he shot rope after rope of cum, hit his stomach, chest and chin, “Fuuuuuuck!”
“God damn boy!” The big black daddy cried out as the twink’s hole clenched around him and he shot his own thick load into Zack.
A few feet away, Bear shook his head and took another drink of beer as Zack’s head dropped back and his body shook with exhaustion. The 21-year-old’s brown curls were damp with sweat in the heavy Texas night, his pale, freckled face still flushed from all the fucking.
“Jesus Christ. How many loads is that?”
“Only five,” Bear glanced over.
Dave had appeared beside him.
In his mid-thirties, Dave looked enough like a particularly inappropriate depiction of Jesus that Zack's nickname for him would have been obvious to anyone. He was tall and lean but solidly built, with long, wavy brown hair brushing his shoulders, a full beard, warm brown eyes and a broad, handsome face permanently threatening to break into a grin. Tonight he wore faded cargo shorts, leather sandals and nothing else, leaving his tanned, hairy chest and stomach bare. A campground radio was clipped to his waistband—the only indication that he was technically still working.
Bear nodded toward Zack. “Building character.”
Dave looked at the line. “Looks like you're building clientele.”
Bear laughed.
Dave grabbed a beer from the cooler beside him. “Your boy's popular.”
“He's not my boy.”
Dave opened the beer and looked at Bear. Bear stared back. Dave took a drink. “Okay.”
“Trial weekend.”
“Sure.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Dave grinned.
Across the yard, Zack moaned again, begging the newest stranger to fuck him.
Dave watched him for another moment before turning back to Bear. “You coming to brunch tomorrow?”
Bear grunted. “Your place?”
“Yeah. Monthly Sunday brunch. My cabin around eleven.” Dave took another drink. “Nothing huge this time. Maybe fifteen people.”
Bear snorted. “You said that last month.”
“Twenty-three is basically fifteen.”
“You ran out of chairs.”
“That's why God invented floors.”
Bear shook his head.
Dave nodded toward Zack. “Bring the new boy if he's up for it.”
Bear looked back across the yard. Zack had survived an entire day of Bear deliberately pushing every button he had. He'd introduced himself to Mike alone, got pissfucked by a group of horny frat boys, endured drag bingo naked with half the campground watching him, and was currently getting gangbanged by a parade of strangers while looking increasingly more desperate and horny by the minute.
“He's supposed to head home tomorrow.”
Dave shrugged. “Brunch first.”
Bear didn't answer immediately.
Dave glanced between Bear and Zack. Then his grin returned.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Dave.” Bear looked at him.
Dave wisely took another drink. “Eleven o'clock,” he said. “Bring him if he's still alive.”
Bear turned his attention back toward Zack.
The kid was moaning like a greedy whore. But he was smiling too.
The seventh guy to fuck Zack was about fifty, an Indian man with warm brown skin and thick black hair heavily threaded with silver. He had a neatly trimmed beard, intelligent dark eyes, and a compact body that was neither particularly muscular nor soft, with a moderate covering of dark hair across his chest and stomach. He stood naked stroking his long hard cock, and somehow looked more elegant. He pressed his cock into Zack and smiled “Don't let them overwhelm you. They're mostly harmless.”
“Tell that - uhhh - to my - fuck - hole,” Zack moaned
The man smiled and leaned over Zack, grabbing the boy by the back of the neck. He made solid eye contact for the entire five minutes he fucked the young boy, closing his eyes only when he came.
Next came a soft-bodied white man in his late fifties with thinning gray hair, bright blue eyes, and a round belly. His chest was mostly smooth except for a patch of gray hair at its center, while his arms and legs had the softness of somebody who had long ago made peace with never seeing the inside of a gym. His cock could have been over five inches, but he had one of the friendliest faces Zack had ever seen. “You're cuter than Richard said,” the man smiled as he speared his cock into Zack.
Zack's eyes immediately found Richard across the yard. Richard abruptly became extremely interested in his beer. By the time Zack looked back at the fat, older man the guy was already cumming.
Zack’s head was spinning grateful he wrists were strapped to the sling. The line of men started to blur together.
The ninth man looked to be in his early sixties. He was tall enough to make Zack tip his head back, but almost startlingly lanky, with leathery tan skin, long arms and legs, a thick white mustache, and a full head of silver hair combed straight back. His narrow body had surprisingly little hair, but his long cock felt amazing in Zack’s hole.
Next was a heavyset Black man in his late sixties whose large thick cock immediately made Zack’s dick jump and spurt a little. The man had closely cropped gray hair, a magnificent full gray beard, and a round, handsome face dominated by kind brown eyes. His large naked body was broad and soft, with a substantial belly, heavy thighs, and sparse gray hair across his chest. “So this is Bear's new boy.”
“For the weekend,” Zack moaned automatically.
The man smiled and fucked him with a slow and steady rhythm for almost 15 minutes, causing Zack to cum again before the man added the tenth load to the boy’s sloppy hole.
The eleventh guy was seventy and apparently determined to prove that age had nothing to do with shyness. He was short, broad, and completely naked, with a substantial belly and thick white body hair covering nearly everything below his neck. A full head of white hair framed a deeply lined face with surprisingly bright blue eyes. Zack couldn't help noticing that Hank looked a little like Bear might in another eight years.
Hank caught him the boy smiling as he fucked him. “Whatcha smilin at son? You like it grandpa fucks you?”
“Yes, Sir… breed my hole grandpa.”
“You're comparing me to Bear,” the old man said, picking up pace as he fucked the boy who was almost three times his junior. Zack's eyes widened. Hank laughed. “Everybody does. I'm better looking.”
“Bullshit!” Bear called from across the yard.
Zack smiled dopily, knowing Master Bear was watching as the grandpa emptied a load into him.
Number twelve was twenty-nine, a handsome Asian man with straight black hair falling across his forehead, smooth golden skin, and a compact swimmer's build. His shoulders were broad without being bulky, tapering into a narrow waist and strong legs. He was completely naked except for a woven bracelet around one wrist. Unlike most of the others, the man seemed almost as reserved as Zack. “I'm glad there's finally someone here younger than me,” he said, shoving his hard cock into Zack.
Zack smiled. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-nine.”
“That's not that old.”
Marcus nodded solemnly. “Tell these fossils.” A chorus of obscenities followed him down the line.
Last was a forty-something Latino bear with a thick, sturdy body, shaggy black hair beginning to silver above his ears, and a magnificent dark beard streaked dramatically with gray. Dense black hair covered his naked chest, round stomach, arms, and legs. He had an easy smile, “Fuck boy, how much cum is in here?”
Zack grinned. “I lost count… is it okay?”
“It’s fucking hot!” The man bit his lip and pounded Zack hard and fast, “Fuck it!” He groaned and added the thirteenth load into the sweaty, worn out twink.
“Alright, time to change it up!”
Zack recognized Tucker’s voice before he saw him.
The muscular twenty-eight-year-old pushed through the dispersing crowd completely naked except for the black leather collar around his neck. His dark hair was slightly damp in the humid Texas night, and the warm string lights caught the defined planes of his broad chest, thick arms, narrow waist, and powerful legs. He wore a mischievous grin as he surveyed Zack.
“Thank God,” Zack said. “I’m exhausted.”
“Poor baby… your Master sent me to rescue you.” Tucker stepped up to the sling and began helping Zack out of it. Zack gratefully accepted his strong hand, his legs a little shaky after being stationed there for so long. “Easy,” Tucker said, catching him around the waist. “You did good.”
Zack smiled tiredly. “Thanks.”
“Oh, don't thank me yet. After that performance, I’m getting you a beer.” Zack brightened. Tucker reconsidered. “Actually, maybe six.”
“I like this plan.”
“Knew you would.”
“I'll take his place!”
Zack looked over. Tyler was already moving toward the empty sling.
The tall blond twenty-something Frat boy was deeply tanned, with sun-bleached hair falling messily around his handsome, square-jawed face and bright blue eyes shining with entirely too much enthusiasm. He had the lean, naturally athletic build of someone who stayed fit without trying particularly hard, and tonight he was completely naked, having apparently abandoned the tiny gray athletic shorts he'd been wearing earlier.
Tucker laughed. “Jesus, Tyler. At least pretend you had to think about it.”
“Why?”
“Fair point.”
Tyler climbed eagerly into Zack’s former spot and settled himself in with a grin, “Come and get it fellas!”
Zack stared at him. “You're enjoying this way too much.”
“You had your turn, Curls.”
“Apparently.”
Tucker hooked a thick arm around Zack’s shoulders and steered him away.
“Come on.”
“Where are my six beers?”
“After we take a little detour. I want to suck all the cum out of your ass while Stephan fucks me.”
“Only if I can lay down while you do it please.”
Tucker laughed. “Come on, Steven and I are right next door.”
Tucker led him across the communal yard toward the neighboring trailer. Zack made it several steps before something occurred to him. He wasn't looking for Bear. He stopped.
Tucker glanced back. “What?”
Zack turned. Across the yard, Bear was exactly where Zack expected him to be, settled beneath the canopy with a beer in one massive hand. The sixty-two-year-old Dom was naked now, his deeply tanned body glowing beneath the string lights, thick white hair covering his powerful arms, broad chest, round belly and heavy legs. His bald head and neatly trimmed white beard made him unmistakable even in the crowded yard.
Bear was already watching him. Zack gestured toward Tucker and then toward Steven and Tucker’s trailer. Bear understood. He gave Zack a small nod. Zack smiled.
“Come on Curls! And you better be holding that cum in for me!” Tucker called.
Zack turned back toward him. “All yours buddy.” He crossed the rest of the yard without another thought.
Bear watched him disappear into the neighboring trailer.
Richard dropped heavily into the chair beside him. The muscle bear’s gray tank top had vanished sometime earlier in the night, leaving his enormous, hairy chest and stomach bare above a pair of loose shorts. His silver hair was already mussed from the humidity, and his thick gray beard moved with a knowing smile. “You’re gonna keep that one, aren’t you?”
Bear took a long drink from his beer. “We’ll see.”
Richard glanced toward the trailer Zack had just entered, then back at his old friend. “Bullshit.”
Bear’s beard twitched. “Shut the fuck up, Richard.”
Hours later, the party was finally beginning to thin.
The fire had burned down to glowing orange embers, and the music had been turned low enough that the chirping insects in the surrounding woods could compete with it. A handful of golf carts had disappeared from the road, though plenty remained. Empty cans and plastic cups littered the tables beneath the canopy, evidence of a Saturday night well spent.
Bear sat in his usual chair beneath the string lights, nursing what he'd already decided would be his last beer.
Richard dropped heavily into the chair beside him. His gray tank top had disappeared sometime around midnight, leaving his massive, hairy torso bare in the Texas heat. At this hour his silver hair was mussed and his thick beard had acquired the slightly wild look of a man who'd been drinking for several hours.
“You seen your boy?”
Bear glanced around. He hadn't and it’d been hours since he came of Stephen and Tucker’s trailer smiling, with a beer in his hand..
Zack had spent most of the night bouncing between Tucker, the frat boys and whatever group of campground regulars adopted him next. Earlier, Bear had watched the painfully shy kid who could barely introduce himself to Mike that morning laughing around the fire with half a dozen men he'd never met before.
Bear stood. “Somebody finally kill him?”
Richard shrugged. “Check by the fire.”
Bear found Zack a few minutes later in an Adirondack chair at the edge of the fire pit. Passed out cold. The twenty-one-year-old was sprawled diagonally across the wide wooden chair, completely naked, one slim leg hanging over the armrest and both borrowed flip-flops missing. His pale skin glowed gold in the dying firelight, freckles scattered across his cheeks and shoulders. His normally unruly brown curls had achieved complete anarchy, several plastered damply against his forehead while the rest stuck out in every direction.
An empty plastic cup rested precariously against his stomach.
Bear stopped in front of him. “Boy.” Nothing. “Zack.” Zack's mouth fell open slightly. Bear shook his head. “Lightweight.” He took the cup from Zack's hand and set it aside. Zack didn't stir. Bear's expression softened.
He crouched and carefully slipped one arm beneath Zack's knees and the other behind his back. Zack made a sleepy noise as Bear lifted him but never actually woke, his head immediately dropping against Bear's broad shoulder.
“There you go, son.”
Zack instinctively curled closer. Bear carried him through the remaining party.
Tucker noticed them first and smiled before quietly moving a chair out of Bear's path. Steven gave Bear a knowing look but said nothing. Richard simply raised his beer in salute.
Bear carried Zack into the trailer and nudged the door shut behind them.
The noise of the party became a distant murmur. For the first time all day, everything was quiet. Bear took Zack straight to the bathroom. Normally he'd have ordered the boy into the shower and expected immediate obedience. Tonight there was no point. Zack was gone.
Bear sat him carefully on the closed toilet lid, keeping one large hand against his shoulder while he turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature.
Zack slumped sideways. Bear caught him. “Jesus Christ, boy.”
Zack rested his forehead against Bear's belly. Still asleep.
Bear smiled despite himself. He guided Zack into the shower and stepped in with him, keeping an arm securely around the younger man's waist as warm water washed over them.
Zack stirred slightly. “Master?”
“I'm here.”
That seemed to be enough. Zack went limp against him again.
Bear washed him slowly. He rinsed away the sweat and sunscreen from the long afternoon at the pool, the smoke from the fire, the sticky remains of cum. He worked shampoo gently through Zack's hopeless mop of curls, using his fingers to massage it into his scalp.
Zack never knew. There was nobody here for Bear to perform for. Nobody to impress. No lesson to teach. Just his exhausted boy.
Bear tilted Zack's head carefully beneath the water and shielded his eyes with one broad hand while rinsing the shampoo away. “There.”
Zack murmured something incoherent.
Bear chuckled. “You're a mess.”
He washed Zack's face, body and used hole with a wet cloth, carefully wiping, always gentle. When Zack was clean, Bear shut off the water and wrapped him in a large towel.
Zack shivered. Bear immediately pulled him closer. “Easy, son.”
He dried Zack's curls first, rubbing them gently until they sprang back into their usual ridiculous mess. Then his shoulders, arms and back, working his way down until the boy was warm and dry. Zack's eyes never opened. Bear carried him to the bedroom. He pulled back the covers with one hand and carefully lowered Zack onto the mattress.
Zack immediately curled onto his side. Bear covered him. Then stopped. One dark curl had fallen across Zack's forehead. Bear brushed it away.
Zack shifted toward the touch.
For a moment, the big, gruff sixty-two-year-old simply stood there looking down at him. Friday afternoon, Zack had been a stranger from the internet. A nervous kid asking Bear to own him for a weekend.
Tomorrow he would have to go home.
Bear didn't particularly like thinking about that. He pulled the blanket a little higher over Zack's shoulder. “You did good today, boy,” Bear said quietly as he crawled in bed next to him.
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