Taken Hiking

by Habu

3 Jul 2017 5926 readers Score 9.0 (75 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


Noah Young was an angel. With a flawlessly handsome face, a beatific, innocent smile and blond curls haloing his head, and a perfectly formed, somewhat diminutive body, he was frequently described as angelic. The high tenor voice he graced the Shenandoah Conservatory’s Chamber Choir with--not frequently risen to in one’s freshman year at Shenandoah University in Winchester, Virginia--was angelic. His inspired artwork on theater backdrops for the conservatory’s theater program was considered to be inspired by heaven. He even stood out as a graceful angel in his dance classes.

He hadn’t realized he was gay until he entered the music program at Shenandoah University. He had suspected he was just neither this nor that and had been content with the oft-expressed projection that his angelic nature and musical gift was leading him toward a life of celibacy in the priesthood.

There wasn’t much in the way of gay life in Gatlinburg, Tennessee, where he came from, in the shadow of the Great Smokies--at least anywhere Noah was looking. Noah didn’t do much looking on his own. He was lost in his music and art and his love of hiking up into the Great Smokies, an activity that helped keep him trim and fit. There had been girls attracted to him--and even some boys. Who wouldn’t be attracted to an angel? But he’d been so immersed in his own interests that he hadn’t even noticed their interest.

Winchester, Virginia, was a bit more “of this world,” though, and Noah certainly did notice the interest that a bass from the chamber choir, a senior with considerable stature both in the college social whirl and physically, celebrated a successful choir Christmas concert by trapping Noah in the backseat of his car on the side of a remote forested lane when coming home from an after-concert party, covering Noah with kisses and his considerably larger body, and missionary fucking Noah’s virginity away.

They had both been high on the concert success and drunk on Christmas punch, and the bass apologized profusely, but Noah, more confused and embarrassed at having felt touched as never before by the experience, was ambivalent in his response, so the bass doggie fucked him again in the backseat of his car the night before they all went home for the Christmas break.

In Gatlinburg, at New Year’s, Noah finally became aware that his high school vocal coach’s interest hadn’t only been for his talent.

“You have come home changed in some way, Noah,” Mr. Connor had said when they met at the punchbowl after a New Year’s Eve concert and found a table together in the corner of the hall.

“Yes, being up in northern Virginia and everything that has been happening at the conservatory has really opened my eyes.”

“You have gained experience outside of music and art? If so, that’s wonderful. I was so afraid you wouldn’t discover there is more than that to life--and that your experiences with life can only enhance your music and art.” Connor put a hand on Noah’s thigh. Noah didn’t flinch.

Noah looked into Connor’s eyes and said, “I’ve opened my eyes to so much more than I knew existed. If I had known when I was still here--”

“Have you discovered woman at last at that university of yours?” Connor asked.

“No, not that.”

“Men?” the former vocal coach asked. He squeezed Noah’s thigh. This time Noah did shudder--and he covered Connor’s hand with his, but quite obviously not to brush it away.

“I have some new compositions on my piano at home, Noah. Would you like to come to my place and hear them?”

“Yes, I’d like that.”

Connor fucked Noah on a bearskin rug beside Connor’s baby grand piano in a cramped living room. It was all so romantic, with candles and everything that Connor had moved around the room to provide atmospheric lighting as soon as they had entered the log cabin perched on the side of a mountain. There was a fireplace with a fire going as well. The scene was fit for an angel. It would have been a perfect setting in which to lose one’s virginity if Noah’s hadn’t already been taken from him.

But it was Noah’s first prolonged, languid fuck, lying on his back, his legs bent, with Mr. Connor crouched between his legs, first giving Noah his first cock suck and then hovering over him, leaning his face down to Noah’s for a kiss, while he positioned his cock and entered, entered, entered Noah’s channel. The penetration caused channel walls to stretch and shimmer and Noah to arch his back, claw at Connor’s shoulder blades with his hands, pant and moan, and, when Connor began stroking, deep in the core of the young angel, to open and close his clutching at the older man’s back to the rhythm of the fuck.

Connor thrust again and again, each time deeper, each time with less of an interval between thrusts. He was embracing Noah close at the chest, and Noah could feel the quickening of both of their heartbeats.

“Yes, yes, fuck me!” he cried out, and instinctively, naturally, he set his own pelvis in motion, moving with Connor’s thrusts, pulling the long cock deeper, deeper. Noah’s hand went between their bellies and found his own cock. They rocked and beat against each other for several minutes, no sound coming out of them but the animalistic groaning and snorting of two lovers in uncontrolled heat . . . until, with a cry, Noah exploded. Connor followed soon after, pulling out of Noah and releasing on his belly.

They lay there, in continued embrace, panting, their eyes locked together in satiated lust. But not completely satiated, no. Connor turned Noah belly to rug, ran an arm under the young man’s waist to lift his buttocks, mounted him, thrust his cock inside the hole again, and started the pumping all over again.

It wasn’t until the next morning, the start of a new year, that Noah was to hear Connor play his new compositions on the piano.

This was a whole new world for Noah, and he went back to college resigned to the knowledge that he not only was gay, but also that he was a submissive and enjoyed the sex. For the next four months he sought, but didn’t achieve, the same exhilaration he had felt on that bear rug in Connor’s apartment, with the long, long cock of the vocal coach caressing his channel walls deep at his core. What he did find, though, was the more vigorous, fast exploding cock of the bass waiting for him and new experiences of giving and receiving furtive hand and blow jobs.

As spring approached, one of Noah’s old loves, mountain hiking, began to press on him increasingly. He had grown up in the shadow of the Great Smokies and walking sections of the Appalachian Trail. Here he was several hundred miles north, but the mountain chain--this time the Blue Ridge--could clearly be seen off to the east as he went about his way on the university campus. The Appalachian Trail also crossed the ridge of these mountains. The more frustrated he became at not finding a lover here to equal Mr. Connor in Gatlinburg, the more frustrated he became that he wasn’t hiking the mountains. He’d brought all of his gear.

* * * *

The problem with going hiking on the Skyline Drive, which rode the ridge of the Blue Ridge up from the pass between Waynesboro and Charlottesville to the nearby town of Front Royal, a distance of 105 miles, was that provisions were expensive and hiking the Appalachian Trail was something you didn’t want to do alone. There were too many opportunities to injure yourself or to get hopelessly lost on your own. Noah had already decided he’d do it during his spring break. He just hadn’t found anyone else at the school who would do it with him or who he felt certain enough would be a useful companion.

“Why don’t you advertise on something like Craig’s List,” his roommate, Mason, said one day. “There’s got to be other guys out there looking for someone to hike with.”

Mason was a second-year business major. His family owned a string of drycleaners in the Washington, D.C., area, and Mason was barely making it academic wise. He would have liked to have gone to a bigger university, playing football. He’d been a fullback in high school and had done well at that, but not well enough to be recruited when taken into account that his grades weren’t good enough to make it into UVa or Virginia Tech. His parents wanted him to go to a Virginia school, and it didn’t matter where he got a business degree from, really. He had a family business to go straight to from college. Thus, he was able to major in drinking and carousing at Shenandoah.

He would have liked to carouse with Noah, but Noah hadn’t seen him as anything but a roommate who, thankfully, usually was off somewhere else.

Noah thought the Craig’s List idea was fine. And within minutes he’d brought up this:

Be taken hiking the AT on Skyline Drive from Rockfish Gap north to FR. Looking for willing fit, male companion. All expenses paid. Send photo.

Noah sent a photo and noted the dates he was interested in hiking--during his spring break. He figured the hike would take six days. The next day he got a response.

Cute. Dates OK. Would meet up the evening before in Waynesboro, the Lion’s Den. If interested, submissive, and like it big, send nude photo.

Attached had been the nude photo of a young, hung, muscular dark-haired guy who probably was in his mid twenties.

“So, that’s what this was about,” Mason said, looking over Noah’s shoulder. “You could try again. There’s got to be other hikers out there looking for a hookup.”

This looks like a hookup,” Noah said. “He looks hot.”

Mason sucked in air. He’d heard that Noah did hand and blow jobs, although there’d never been a hint of doing it with him. But he didn’t know that Noah could so calmly entertain a proposal like this. And as far as being hot, the guy in the photo wasn’t any hotter--or more hung--than Mason was, to his mind. And they were similarly dark haired and slightly hirsute.

“Only one problem,” Noah said.

“Oh, what?” Mason asked. He put his hands on Noah’s shoulder and Noah didn’t shrink away from him. He normally could think of more than one problem with this proposition. But he was suddenly learning more about Noah than he’d hoped to think he could. Noah was the angel; he couldn’t be expected to even think about going hiking with another guy proposing this.

“How am I to get to Waynesboro to start the hike and then get from Front Royal to here? I know, I could ask on Craig’s List. Maybe exchange a blow job or something for the trips.”

“You don’t have to ask on Craig’s List,” Mason said, his voice a little shaky.

“I can hardly post it to the student union board,” Noah said.

“You don’t have to do that either. I have a car. I’ll take you to Waynesboro in exchange for a blow job and back from Front Royal for another.”

“You?”

“Yes. Tonight?”

Of course it didn’t end with a blow job that night. After Noah sucked Mason, with Mason sitting on the side of his bed, Mason sucked off Noah. Mason didn’t let Noah complete the blow job--which should have been an indication right there that Mason would want more. Mason did, though, make Noah come with his mouth as he knelt between Noah’s thighs. But then, pressing on the blond angel’s belly, Mason made Noah recline back, put the palms of his hands under Noah’s buttocks, raising his pelvis, and ate out Noah’s ass to the point that Noah was begging for a fuck.

Mason gave him a fuck. Holding Noah’s legs spread and raised, Mason crouched between Noah’s thighs and pounded away on him in a deep missionary. Noah lay there, inert, his head lolled to the side, panting and moaning, as Mason gave him everything he’d wanted to give him since September.

It didn’t end there. In the night Noah felt the weight of Mason come down on his back, and his hips being coaxed to raise up, and Mason did him again doggie style.

Noah offered no resistance. It wasn’t his dream fucking, but it was better than the bass in the chamber choir did and it didn’t have to be furtive. They were roommates. No one questioned what happened during the night in their locked room. In fact, several who knew Mason or Noah assumed that it had been going on for months.

Mason’s attentions were exhausting. Noah gave up the chamber choir bass who was moving on to fresher meat anyway. But Mason made good, and the second week of April he drove Noah down to Waynesboro on a Friday night and left him and his hiking equipment in front of a dive outside town with the sign “Lion’s Den” on it.

* * * *

Noah walked into the tavern, which obviously was a gay bar based on observation of the clientele. All eyes went to him when he entered. It wasn’t every day that an angel walked into the Lion’s Den. He recognized the guy who had sent him the proposition and the photo immediately. He was leaning over the bar, talking to the bartender. They stopped talking and watched, somewhat incredulously, Noah’s approach to the bar.

“You came,” the man, whose name had been given as John, said. He wasn’t quite as good looking as his photo promised, but close enough for Noah. He mostly was just a hiking companion. The fuck buddy part of it would be OK as long as he was paying for all the provisions--and, Noah assumed, for the accommodations for the night.

“Yes, are you John?”

“I didn’t think you’d come. You looked too good to be doing more than teasing. And the photo really was you, wasn’t it? Not some movie star.”

“Yes, it was me,” Noah said, with a little laugh. “Hope you aren’t disappointed.”

“Now that depends. Let’s get it straight right off the bat. You gonna take cock during this hike?”

“Yes, if you’re going to provide all the provisions and will put me up tonight.”

“You know I won’t go all the way up to the trail without making sure you’re what I want, don’t you?”

“Yes, I can understand that.”

“There are cabins out back here. I’ve rented one. Let’s go.”

“Don’t we have time for a drink first?”

“Sure. Good idea. Maybe more than one. Wouldn’t want you to get skittish.”

It was far more than one drink, with more being pressed on Noah than John was having. John spent some of the time off on a cell phone.

At the door to the bar, Noah somewhat sluggishly pointed to his heavy backpack. “My stuff for the hike is here. Can you, like . . . ?”

“Sure I’ll carry it back to the cabin for you. Steady on there, sport.” He was cupping and squeezing Noah’s buttocks. Noah didn’t resist.

“Where’s your stuff?” Noah asked.

“In the truck.” John vaguely gestured toward a line of trucks parked haphazardly in front of the cabins in back. A few of the trucks had guys sitting in the driver’s seat and smoking, watching John guiding a weaving Noah toward the cabins, with slitted eyes and knowing smiles.

At the cabin door, John dropped the backpack, pulled Noah to him, and went into a tonsil-swabbing kiss. Noah didn’t resist at the beginning and was fully invested in it at the conclusion. John laughed, lifted Noah’s body with one arm under his pits and the other under his knees, said, “Might as well do this right,” kicked open the cabin door, and propelled the two of them into a small room dominated by a double bed.

Another guy, Tom, kicked the door back shut from inside the room. A third guy, James, walked in from the bathroom. Both were hulking construction workers wearing just briefs and construction boots.

Noah was quickly stripped and John was fucking him missionary style at the end of the bed. Tom was on one side holding Noah’s right leg up and out. James was on the other side holding up the left. Both had lost their briefs. Both had made Noah grasp and stroke their cocks to erection while John pounded his ass. Noah lay, inert, on the bed, his back arched, his head buzzing from the liquor, and not really minding the cock working inside him. John wasn’t sheathed, which was a new sensation for Noah. Tom wasn’t sheathed when he took his turn next. Nor James. Nor were Keith and Scott, the two guys who had been waiting outside in their trucks, when they entered the room. Keith and Scott had turned Noah and were taking him doggie style.

This wasn’t lovemaking. This was pure animal-need fucking, throbbing cock sliding in channel, coaxing the walls to stretch for it, pistoning every faster, deeper, seeking release and, finding it, being replaced by yet another cock. This wasn’t personal. Noah was just providing a sheath. He could endure this. Even as buzzed as he was, he was able to analyze it, to consider each cock separately, each man’s technique even in a straightforward pumping like this. In the months since he’d become sexually active, he’d studied the cocking of each man who had taken him--the chamber choir bass, Mr. Connor, Mason. Not a long list. But each one different. If he concentrated on the differences of these cocks, he could get some enjoyment and instruction out of this gang bang. He’d wondered about the life of a male prostitute. He’d even wondered if it might be a life for him. There were so many gay men at the conservatory--and there was talk of only being able to make it in one of the music capitals of the world if you took tricks to augment your income. Could he? This would help him decide.

He wasn’t fighting them. He was going with it. That probably was why they weren’t manhandling him, beating him. It may help him to come out of this alive.

They came to the top of the order again, with John on his back on the bed and Noah on his back on top of John, with John fucking him from below. James appeared at Noah’s head straddling his chest and offering his cock, which Noah dutifully took in his mouth. James also had a bottle of poppers, which he waved under Noah’s nose, making Noah more mellow and relaxing his channel more.

“You’ll want this,” was all James said before Tom saddled up between Noah’s and John’s legs and began to work his cock into Noah’s hole on top of John’s.

Noah groaned and moaned, but he took them. None of them other than John were especially hung. None of them were as presentable as John either, which was why, Noah supposed, only John’s photo was sent. Just a bunch of country hick bad boys, Noah thought. He was managing. This was all new experience for him.

Keith and Scott doubled him standing up with Noah wedged between them.

They let him shower and then took him back to the Lion’s Den for a steak dinner. They all sat close around him, watching for signs that he’d break for the door or yell for help. But he could see that the Lion’s Den wasn’t the sort of place that would offer him any help. There was more beer. They were keeping him buzzed. He was sore, yes, but it was an experience. All of these men wanting him.

After dinner they all had him again in the cabin. Men drifted in and out. They weren’t always the same group he’d started with. They were all men, though, and they all here holding erections as they approached either his ass or his mouth.

He slept between John and Tom, with James on top of him, and then between Tom and James with John on top of him, and so forth, until he zoned out and went to sleep with a cock still churning in him.

When he woke, he was in the cabin alone. All of the men were gone, although there was the smell of stale smoke and musky cum in the air, and his channel was gaping open and running with the cum of countless men. His backpack was there, seemingly untouched, and there was $124 in assorted bills sitting on the dresser. At least they’d paid him.

So, this was what it was like to be a rent-boy. He could do this if he had to. He struggled to the bathroom and the thin stream of water that came out of a groaning shower head, but the pain and soreness retreated the longer he stood under the lukewarm water. He could do this.

When he came out of the shower, the bartender from the Lion’s Den was standing in the open door, two twenties in his hand. He fucked Noah in a side split on the bed, giving him attention with his lips--on his cock and nipples as well as his mouth. His was closer to lovemaking than any that had gone on the night before, and his dick was thicker too--and more interesting to take. He had an off-rhythm thrust that made Noah hold his breath for the end to the longer intervals, and his bulb paid extra attention to Noah’s prostrate, giving the younger man a prodigious wad when he came. The bartender was sheathed, but he gave Noah a facial when he was finishing.

“Nice lay. The guys were right. There’s breakfast on the house over at the Lion’s Den, if you want it,” the man said as he pulled up his trousers and headed for the door.

Noah the male prostitute, Noah thought, as he rolled off the bed and walked off to the shower again.

There were no trucks in front of the cabin, although there were a few in front of the Lion’s Den. Time for him to see if the Lion’s Den served a breakfast that made up for all the energy he’d been drained of and then, he guessed, to put in a call to Mason to come get him. It was obvious that John hadn’t really been advertising for a hiking buddy.

* * * *

“You going up on the trail too?” Noah turned to see a man in his forties, in hiking gear, and with a weighty backpack at his feet. There were two men standing with him--another older man, but muscular and with a Marine buzz cut like the first. And then there was a short, young redhead, pretty much the same cut of young man as Noah was except for the coloring.

“I had hoped to, but my hiking partner didn’t show. It’s not good to try to hike in the mountains alone.”

“You going north on the Skyline Drive or south on the Blue Ridge Parkway? I’m Dale, by the way. In banking in Washington, D.C. I try to do the trail regularly to keep in shape.” There was no doubt that Dale was in shape.

“I was going to go north on to Front Royal. I’m a student at Shenandoah University. Freshman. Name’s Noah.”

“We’re going north too,” Dale said. “Would be happy for you to go along. This here’s Howard, he’s got a construction company in Alexandria. And Kyle. He’s a student too. George Mason. He’s along for the company. You got your gear in order?”

“Not the provisions, sorry,” Noah said. “The other guy was supposed to bring those--and pay for the park pass.”

“Would love to have you along. I can take care of everything. You could just keep us good company, if you’re willing. Uh, how old are you, by the way?”

“If I’m willing?” Noah asked.

“He means if you’ll take our cocks--Dale’s and mine,” Howard spoke up for the first time. “That’s what Kyle’s along for. We heard guys talkin’ about you inside.”

Noah shouldn’t have been surprised, and he wasn’t really. They were standing on the porch into of a gay tavern. The three had probably stayed in one of the cabins in back. They might have been quite aware of what was happening in Noah’s cabin.

“I’m over eighteen,” Noah answered.

“Sorry that Howard was so bald about it,” Dale said, “but the bartender said you took cock--that you were abandoned here. That you take a lot of cock. I see the taxi pulling up to take me up to the park entrance. You want to come or not?”

They didn’t fuck him the first night. They made good time--the other three were in excellent shape and Noah managed. Dale and Howard saw that he wasn’t toned up for the hiking yet, though, so when they reached the Dundo Group Camp facilities and set up tents far enough from any of the other hikers to not draw attention, they took care of supper and then let Noah rest. Each of them, in turn, though, went into Kyle’s tent, and the shimmering of the tent wall and the sound of grunts in two different tones each time made clear to Noah that Kyle was being fucked.

The next night they stopped some twenty miles further on, at the Lewis Mountain camping grounds. This time they overshot the camp by a quarter of a mile and camped in a glen well off the trail. Howard fucked Kyle while he sat on a log and Kyle sat on his cock facing him, while Dale fixed dinner of noodles and Snickers bars. Noah sat to the side and watched, with both of the older men watching him to see if he’d bolt. He didn’t. Kyle’s wrists were tied behind his back with a leather strap--a favorite fetish of Howard’s, Noah was to learn--and fucked himself on Howard’s cock using the leverage of his feet. Both men were naked and both had beautiful bodies for their ages. Dale was just in briefs himself and Noah could clearly see that he was in erection.

“Come to my tent with me,” Dale said to Noah after they’d finished eating. Howard and Kyle, who had finished the fuck late, were still eating. Howard was still sitting on the log and Kyle was sitting on the ground between Howard’s thighs.

Noah stood to follow Dale into his tent, but Kyle arrested their movement. “Pay him, Dale.”

“He’s being provisioned,” Dale answered.

“Don’t be cheap, Dale. And don’t give it away so cheaply, Noah. I get $25 a fuck and you provide my provisions too. Don’t shortchange him.”

“OK, OK,” Dale said. “I’ll give it to him in the tent.”

Noah turned to thank Kyle, but he already had his head turned and was sucking on Howard’s cock.

Dale gave it to Noah in the tent. He was a lover, like Mr. Connor was, not just a fucker. They lay stretched out on a sleeping bag on top of an air mattress in the close confines of the tent. Dale prepared Noah, embracing him and kissing him on the lips, throat, and nipples while he divested Noah of his T-shirt, shorts, and briefs. He nudged Noah into a 69 position that Noah finally figured out, and the two men sucked each other off, neither going to ejaculation. Then Dale was embracing Noah chest to chest again, holding him close and stroking his cock--not allowing Noah to handle his and not letting up on the stroking despite Noah’s begging until Noah had come.

Then, still holding Noah in the embrace and kissing him, Dale moved his hand lower, working first one finger and then another and another, up to the knuckle, into Noah’s hole and nearly fist fucking him. Noah writhed and moaned and begged for the cock until Dale rolled over on top of him, between his legs; pulled his pelvis up with an arm under his waist; penetrated him with a hard, thick, long cock; and fucked him in ever-increasing pace for a good fifteen minutes before he came.

Noah lay there, panting and exhausted--and satiated in a way he hadn’t been since lying under Mr. Connor. He wasn’t given time to rest, though. As soon as Dale was gone from the tent, Howard was there. He was a no play sort of guy, rolling Noah on his stomach, pinning his wrists behind his back and tying them off with the leather strap after strapping Noah’s buttocks a couple of times to hear him suck his breath in and cry out, and then slid in hard and deep and fucked the shit out of Noah.

Dale carried Noah back to his own tent and then the two went back to sharing Kyle.

The next night, camping off the trail just short of the Thornton Gap entrance to the park was nearly a repeat, although Noah had toughened up and moved up in experience enough to take more of the initiative. It was his turn, on his own initiative to ride Howard’s cock while the man sat on a log and Dale and Kyle prepared the dinner and then, later, he walked to Dale’s tent first, with Dale following him, and Dale lay on his back with his arms over his head and Noah grasping the man’s arms while he straddled Dale’s hips and rode his cock.

Noah was learning to do more than just submit to a man. And on this night, he was $100 richer than when he’d come on the trail and had earned nearly $125 before. This hiking was proving to be profitable--which gave Noah pause for thought.

At the Matthews Arms campground--or, rather, a quarter mile beyond it and off the trail--the men didn’t have the complete privacy they may have expected. Two other men entered camp as they were setting up and started setting up camp themselves.

If Noah thought Dale and Howard would be upset at the intrusion, he was wrong. The two sets of men knew each other. “This is Charles from Leesburg and Malcolm, also from Leesburg,” Dale said, introducing the two to Noah. “Malcolm’s an Orthopedist.”

“He’s a stunner,” Malcolm said, giving Noah an appreciating look. “I’ll give him--”

“I’ll pay him $200 to fuck him right now,” Charles broke in to say.

He was another lover, covering Noah with kisses in his tent while stripping him and putting him into a 69 positions. Noah thought that maybe he and Dale went to the same school of debaucher. Between sucking and stroking him, the man had Noah  begging for mercy, and when the cock penetrated him, it caressed every inch of Noah’s shimmering, expanding walls, as it invaded to the quick of him and played him deep in his soft core like a violin concerto.

“You were lovely--are lovely, because I’m not finished,” Charles whispered after the first fuck. Noah groaned, but he got a little jolt of pleasure too, knowing this wasn’t over. “I want to see you after this hike. I’ll leave you my card. You will come over to Leesburg.”

“I’m at school in Winchester. I have no transportation to get to Leesburg. Oh shit. Oh fuck.” Charles was finger fucking him, with three fingers. The index finger had found Noah’s prostate. He was breathing hard, opening his legs, giving the man fuller access. The hand was in to the knuckles. If nothing else, Noah had been reamed wide over the past few days. Both Dale and Charles took advantage of that.

“I own a car dealership in Fairfax,” Charles said. “I’ll give you a car. It won’t be a new one, but it will be a nice one. But then you’ll have to be available to me when I want you.”

“Oh FUCK!” Noah cried out. The knuckles had breached his hole. Charles didn’t make him suffer, though. He rolled over on top of him, extracted his hand, inserted his dick, and started to pump.

The fisting had been useful to Noah. That night the doctor--Malcolm--and Howard sandwiched him in a double fuck. Howard tied his wrists behind his back again and he was saddled on Howard’s cock, Howard on his back and holding Noah’s waist in his hands, while the doctor fucked him from behind, sliding his cock along the top of Howard’s buried staff. His thought on that, forcing his mind through the pain of having two cocks inside him at once, was that it was fortunate he’d been doubled twice in Waynesboro, that much of Charles’ fist had been up there earlier, and that he was earning $50 rather than $25 in a single taking.

By the time they got to Front Royal, Noah had the cards of four men who wanted to pay him for sex, plus entry into a hiking club for men who hiked the Appalachian Trail as a cover for taking young men out into the woods and fucking them silly. All for pay. He’d come back to school with almost $500 more than he’d gone up into the mountains with. And against this he was bowlegged sore for several days, but toughening up, had some memories of pain overtaken with pleasure, gained quite a lot of experience in having sex with men, and had a plan for turning a profit for several more years.

He also had a very nice Mustang to drive--used, but a classic in good running order.

Two months later, when one of Noah’s classmates asked him if he had a summer job lined up, Noah just smiled and said he did. He didn’t tell the classmate what it was, though. The same classmate asked him if he was going to continue with his theater arts study.

“I think there’s a glut of trained talent going into New York,” the classmate said. “And that’s the only place you can even start making a living as chorus in plays. And even there--”

“Yes, I think I’m headed to New York when this degree is finished,” Noah broke in. “And I think I can earn a living there OK.”

“Maybe so,” the classmate said. He was a little dubious, but if anyone could, Noah probably could. He was an angel, and probably the best singer, artist, and dancer in his class. The classmate didn’t have a clue how Noah planned to earn his keep in New York--indeed what was proving to be profitable right here in Virginia, sitting next to the Blue Ridge Mountains and the Appalachian Trail.

by Habu

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