We pick up where we left off, but now from Kevin’s POV.
“How about a little adventure?”
I stared back at Nate as he threw on a hoodie and some cut-off shorts, slightly underdressed for the early fall day.
“What kind of adventure?” I asked, trying to read his expression.
“Well, I gotta work, but figured you could come.” He fixed his hair in the mirror. “That is, if you feel like earning a little bit of money.”
“I’m not the best at yard work,” I told him.
I wasn’t what you’d call handy.
He chuckled. “This isn’t yard work, I promise. You just have to show up. I think you’ll like it.” He turned. “You trust me, right?”
I held his gaze—steadfast, certain. I did.
“Of course.”
“Good,” he said, reassured. “Then let’s roll.”
We hopped into Nate’s pick-up, the ride to town 15 minutes of pure unadulterated forest, leaves on the trees already starting to turn. It was beautiful being back up here, a world apart, the place where so much had become possible, all my wildest fantasies having come true.
We rode mostly in silence, me stealing glances at Nate when he wasn’t looking. He looked even better than I’d remembered him, having grown the first smatterings of a beard, a nod towards becoming a full-blown adult. Otherwise, he was the epitome of a hot, young college kid, the sort that I’d always dreamt in my pre-teens years. Hell, my teen years too.
I could hardly believe he was into me, even now, even after everything.
That week with Nate and Greg had been like a crash course in dick, and instead of leaving me sated, it did the opposite. I was hungry, feverish, desperate for more. The rest of the summer, I’d been stuck at home without even a remote prospect, but my experience in Holden had made me wonder.
All around me, it seemed like everyone was straight, but then so had Nate and Greg until I blew the lid off of everything. When I began to take a second look, nothing was quite as it seemed at home either. I spent the next three months dreaming, fantasizing about everyone that came across my path—the football coach, the town sheriff, even my sister’s boyfriend. No one was safe from my torrid imagination. And now, equipped with the skills Nate had imparted, I jerked myself about three times a day, every sordid daydream my beat off material.
My once real concern for having a limited supply of come, though, was still for naught. I’d yet to run dry.
In fact, quite the opposite. I was ready for more.
Bringing in Greg on my last visit had at first seemed like a betrayal on Nate’s part, only to become one of the hottest experiences of my life. Part of me, a small but silent part of me, hoped for the same surprise this time.
We arrived in downtown Holden, the pick-up rolling down the small main strip until Nate found a parking spot just in front of the local sporting supply store.
He turned off the ignition.
“We picking something up?” I asked.
“Something like that.”
And then I followed his eyes to a car pulling up next to us, a minivan.
In the driver’s seat was a man—late 30s, Dad type, car seat in the back—who pulled into park, exiting the driver’s side and making his way towards the entrance of the store. We both watched him, his anxiety palpable, head turning to look each way before he entered, as if under surveillance.
“You know that guy?” I asked Nate, trying to read his expression.
“Not yet,” he answered, before reaching to unbuckle his seatbelt. “C’mon.”
And so he opened the driver's side door, quickly following behind as he made his way to the shop entrance.
It was your typical gear emporium—fishing lines, hiking boots, swim trunks, the like—and as we entered, I spied the clerk standing behind the counter. He was handsome in a rough, casual way, clearly having lived a life in the great outdoors—30-something, thick muscle, a beard and mustache covering his face, a baseball cap placed firmly over his forehead.
“Naaaate,” he said, nodding at Cuz with a familiar smile. “You made it.”
“As promised, Court,” he replied. “And like I told you, I brought someone. My cousin, Kev.”
The clerk—Court’s—eyebrows raised. “Your…”
Nate held his gaze, Court looking back to make sure he was serious, before he gave a nod.
“All right.” Then he nodded further, just beyond us. “I invited someone else, too.”
We looked towards the back, towards the Dad, hovering, lurking, pretending to flip through the racks, instead taking in the whole exchange.
He was handsome—extremely handsome—if overly polite looking, neat with his polo shirt tucked into his khaki shorts, just tight enough to reveal the outline of his frame—fit, from what I could surmise.
“Cool with me,” Nate said, sizing him up.
I glanced between the Dad, Nate and Court.
“What’s going on?” I muttered to Nate under my breath.
He dropped his voice low. “It’s chill.” And then, his mouth curled into a smirk. “You said you wanted a little adventure.”
With that, the clerk came around behind us, turning the lock on the front door and lowering the blinds before flipping the open sign around.
“Back in 15 minutes,” it read instead.
And then he made his way back behind the cash register, opening the door just beyond and nodding to Nate and me, along with the lingering Dad.
“Come on back.”
I trailed behind, only somewhat reassured by Nate’s supposed confidence, following as we made our way down a long hallway to the storage room in back, a wide-open space with a large, empty table and shelves beyond filled with equipment.
Once there, Nate turned around to lean against the table, affecting the casual nonchalance that made him so undeniably sexy, now as ever proving he knew that he was hot and didn’t give a fuck.
The Dad entered with Court just behind him, face still anxious, nervous. Why was he so freaked out? And so we stood there, in pairs, my body shifting side to side out of awkwardness, not knowing what to do.
“They’re young,” the Dad muttered, speaking for the first time, his face bordering on uncomfortable.
He was even more attractive up close, the kind of guy that I’d spent the last few months fantasizing about—dark skin, jet black hair, defined cheekbones. The kind of guy that seemed so uptight, so straight, that it only made you wonder.
“But old enough,” Nate replied firmly, interrupting before even Court could respond.
And then, as if on cue, Nate removed his sweatshirt, lifting it over his head to reveal that lean curvature of his bare chest, torso lean and tight, stomach a defined six pack.
I felt my dick twitch at the sight of him, the shock of his half-naked body, the expressions on two men’s faces as they eyed him hungrily.
And then he reached for the waistband of his jeans, slowly unbuttoning the fly and opening it to reveal his dick, all seven cut inches of it, pointing outwards just before him.
Fuck. He was already hard.
The three of us stared at it, at him, wordless, drinking in the view that Nate knew was so powerful.
“This what you wanted to see?” he asked, staring at the Dad as Court looked on.
The Dad swallowed, Adam’s apple tightening along his tanned throat, taking in the view of Nate fully naked before him.
“He’s a good-looking boy,” Court said admiringly, giving a nod.
Nate nodded back. “He is. C’mon Court, show ‘em how we do it.”
And with that Court did the same, lifting his t-shirt over his head to reveal his own body—shoulders broad, thick, heavy pecs framed by a pair of arms you could safely describe as jacked. I gulped, the sheer size of his body. If I was slight, he was the opposite—imposing, jacked. His stomach was thick, not lean like Nate’s, lightly tufted with hair, a barrel, and my gaze followed down to his waist as he reached for his fly, unzipping it and letting his own cock fall out.
Fuck. It was big. Not Greg big but big, the kind of dick that just hung there—8 or 9 inches, thick, some serious weight.
I could feel my own cock tightening, pressing against my briefs as I looked first at Nate and then Court, both hard as rocks, relishing their being so bold, so fully on display.
“You boys gonna join us?” Court asked.
The Dad and I looked at each other, two innocents having entered into the unknown.
Suddenly, it made sense why he was so nervous. Unlike me, he knew what he was getting himself into. Two young guys, barely legal.
I might have been uncomfortable, but instead I was emboldened. This was just the kind of thing I was hoping for, the kind of thing I’d imagined, a new fantasy come to life.
“C’mon Kev,” Nate whispered, nodding down at the bulge clearly growing between my legs. “Let it out.”
And so I gave in, reaching for the neck of my sweatshirt and lifting it off too, my chest fully exposed against the air. My nips tightened, cold, reduced to dimes, abs flexing involuntarily, and slowly I reached for the waistband of my shorts, lowering it just so to let my cock free, watching it point outwards in urgency, the tip already oozing pre-cum from the slit.
I looked up, the three men all staring at me, desire in their eyes, their expressions the most beautiful affirmation of what I’d just revealed.
Fuck. They wanted me. They were just as hungry as I was.
And then the three of us turned towards the Dad, the smell of fear still looming around him, his expression a mix of deep lust and shame, the only one still fully dressed.
“C’mon, Aaron,” Court, said, finally granting the Dad a name. “Show us what you got.”
And so, willed by our encouragement, by our stares, Aaron, the young Dad, finally acquiesced, reaching for his polo shirt and letting it drop to the floor.
I stared back, astonished at what was revealed.
For what lay beneath was barely indicated by the clothes that had covered him up. No, underneath he was all lean, ripped muscle, body fully yoked, as if the guy had spent every day at the gym, the intensity of his energy—anxious, fearful— clearly having been directed into the one thing he could control.
His body.
“Fuck,” the clerk muttered, eyes widening, taking in the view.
“Fuck,” Nate echoed.
The Dad let out a sharp exhale, a slight blush registering across his face, flattered. He may have been 15, 20 years older than I was, but he might as well have been 18, given how jittery and inexperienced he seemed.
Here I was, new at this, and already felt like a pro.
We watched as he reached for his khakis, tight around his tanned waist, undoing the belt and its buckle and then letting them all fall to the ground, revealing a pair of boxer briefs and the outline of a solid, hard dick peeking just out the top. He slowly reached for the microfiber edge and lowered it down, cock finally free, the remaining fabric resting just below his balls, propping the whole thing up.
It was dark, cut, with a pronounced vein running along its face, its mushroom head beautifully ridged just above the shaft.
“Nice piece, man,” Court said, almost a whisper, nodding down at it, its tip already glistening with pre-cum.
The Dad placed his thumb at its base, pointing it further outwards, its length pulsing back, his body letting out a shudder.
Then Court reached down, the first of us to take his cock fully in his hand—that massive, thick cock—and began to stroke it, running his fingers from base to head, the faintest graze.
I watched as Nate began to do the same, placing his hand on his own hard piece, working himself in similar rhythmic motions, as if milking himself, no rush.
And then the Dad and I locked eyes, nodding at each other in affirmation, somehow always the last to join, our hands finally reaching for our own meat, joining them.
The four of us stood there, the air electric, jerking ourselves—gently, slowly—luxuriating in the view of each other.
Just four dudes, hard, buck naked, getting ourselves off.
Nate, the lean, muscular jock, smooth and brooding with a scowl and a buzz cut.
Court, the bear, the lumberjack, body brutish, jacked with a little extra, face bearded and topped with a baseball cap.
The Dad, Aaron, so polite and neat, all tanned and ripped Latin muscle, his body the epitome of manicured and sculpted.
And then me, practically a twink, slight with floppy brown hair, my perceived innocence frustrating to me but an aphrodisiac to everyone else.
This was what got me off the most, I realized, from all my twisted fantasies—combinations of guys that weren’t the same. Like Greg, Nate and me this past summer. A beautiful contrast. A melange.
I watched as Court let a long ream of spit leave his mouth, it running down to his shaft and slicking its face.
“C’mon, Aaron,” he started, his voice breathy. “Let’s see that ass.”
The Dad’s face turned, sheepish again, so wholly unaware of how hot he was, the three of us just drinking it all in.
I liked the way Court thought. I wanted to see it too.
“Yeah,” Nate muttered in further encouragement, his hand tightly squeezing the head of his cock, gripping it, willing further wetness at the tip. “Your body’s sick, man.”
And so Aaron turned, shuffling his feet so that his back was to us, granting us another reveal.
Fuck. It was nice. Really nice. High and tight, smooth and hairless like the rest of his body, two large mounds as if etched in stone, framed by the narrow of his waist, not a tan line in sight.
“Jesus,” Court said, curling his mouth into an O and letting out an exhale.
Aaron turned, blushing, his dick even harder at the affirmation. “Been working on it all month.”
"I can tell,” Nate said, his voice quiet. “Let’s see yours, Court,” he prodded, nodding at the clerk to do the same.
Court grinned back, surprised, impressed by his balls.
“If you insist.”
And so he turned, too, presenting himself for us.
If the Dad’s ass had been a study in sculpture, like smooth marble, Court’s was the opposite—thick, meaty, a dump truck if there ever was one, its sheer mass beyond impressive.
And then he took it a step further, lowering his legs and starting to squat down, cheeks tightening and parting, exposing just the slightest glimpse of his hole.
It was the first time I’d ever seen a guy like that—an adult, a grown man—showing off his ass, and there was something deeply fucking hot about it. He was the definition of a gruff dude, hardly the kind most women would fawn over. And yet there was something intensely hot about him, to me, particularly when bent over for our benefit.
Whereas Aaron’s body looked like something out of the Louvre, classical in its beauty, Court’s was something else.
Large. Unwieldy. Pure, brute masculinity on display.
“Damn,” I muttered, surprised as the words left my mouth, embarrassed even. I’d never been able to compliment a guy like that before.
Nate glanced over at me, nodding in agreement. “Yeah. Puts yours to shame.”
I smiled at Nate’s joke, at the way he was so unabashedly drinking in the sights of the men around him. He might not be gay, per se, but he was pretty into this dude’s ass.
“How about you, Kev?” Court asked. “Let’s see what you got.”
I stared back at the three of them, their eyes expectant, wanting.
I was becoming so clear in my desire for men, but to be the object of their desire? That was still new.
I felt like I was in a constant battle between what I felt like on the inside—older, adult—and what I looked like on the outside—hovering on the threshold of growing up.
Not a boy, but barely a man.
“C’mon, Kev,” Court continued, baiting me. “Return the favor.”
I was nervous, hesitant, but the way he grilled me, hungrily, warmly, inspired me forward. And so I pulled myself away from the table, turning around and presenting myself as I had for Greg that summer, arching my back slightly for effect.
As then, it felt awkward, uncomfortable. Would they like it? I wondered. But before my mind could wander further, the Dad interrupted me.
“Jesus.” His voice cut through the room, so distinct given how little he said.
Court nodded in agreement. “Such a sweet ass on such a little guy.”
I turned around, sheepish as well, drinking in their stares, Nate’s expression almost bordering on pride.
And then the Dad’s eyes met mine, full of affirmation, warmth, lust, before he said the words I’d always wanted to hear.
“Beautiful.”
My dick pulsed as he said it, my slit pulsing out even more pre-cum, fingers still only lightly grazing its underside. I was afraid I might bust just from this.
Four guys, so different and so hot, just jerking off and showing off for each other. It was so simple, and yet maybe the hottest thing I could imagine.
I put my hand back on my dick, joining them again, our bodies tightening as we grew more and worked, egged on by the sight of each other.
It was so hot, feeding off each other’s energy, still not touching, until…
“You want a little help with that?” Court asked, nodding at the Dad’s dick.
Fuck, it was hard, pointing out in front of him, as tight as the rest of his body.
The Dad’s eyes narrowed in affirmation, in desire, his chin evincing the slightest nod.
An invitation.
And so we watched, Nate and I, as Court walked over to him, their cocks just in front of each other, almost touching, before he took his baseball hat and turned it around, lowering himself down before the lean, ripped man’s body, his mouth just a few inches from his cock.
Aaron’s eyes darted between the two of us—first me, and then my cousin, his audience—and then back down at Court, as if caught, in overwhelm.
I wondered if he’d ever had his dick sucked by a dude before.
And then, ever so slowly, Court’s mouth moved closer, his lips meeting its tip and tongue extending, running the most beautiful and gentle licks all around the head.
The Dad let out a deep moan, dick pulsing.
Fuck. That was one of the hottest things I’d ever seen.
Nate and I watched, entranced, as Court—the thick, furry lumberjack with a dump truck ass—knelt prostrate before Aaron—the intense, manicured, ripped Dad with the minivan—his tight, dark cock just meeting the bear’s lips with just the slightest of grazes.
Court barely held him inside, instead just teasing along the tip, his lips and tongue working together around the rim, suckling it, pressing his slit apart to lap up his pre-cum.
It was the gentlest of motions, and we watched as the Dad shook, as if his cock was plugging into Court’s socket, electricity shooting through his body.
Court lowered his mouth further down, taking each inch of Aaron’s cock with agonizing patience, lips quivering around him, until the entirety rested in his throat, nose grazing his thick pubes, held there.
Aaron, the Dad, whimpered, his body shaking, the sinew of his muscle only further contracting at the sensation of his cock in Court’s warm, burly mouth.
It was like the guy hadn’t gotten off in a decade. And maybe he hadn’t.
I watched breathless, mesmerized, as Court pulled away, his mouth hovering just in front of the Dad’s dick, its full length wet and sloppy, a small strand of saliva still connecting them, Court’s mustache slicked with spit.
And then he began sucking him off in earnest, working him intensely, intently, taking him inside in long, deep thrusts of his mouth, his dexterity bordering on expert.
Fuck, this bear sure knew how to suck dick.
And then, using his one free hand, he began stroking his own dick, jerking that monster piece that hung down between his meaty thighs, offering himself some relief.
It was a sight, these two guys on each other, the Dad’s ass clenched behind him as Court worked his cock, those thick, full lips taking him inside hungrily.
Once again, a truth was revealed to me. These men, these men that I fantasized about, that in my belief could never be gay, would prove be just that.
As horny and hungry for dick as I was.
The lesson proved, yet again, to be true. Everybody does it. Nobody talks about it.
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my dick, looking down to see Nate’s wet fist running along the length of me, our eyes then meeting after being so consumed by the view before us.
“Here, Kev,” he said, eyes hungry. “You look like you could use a little help.”
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