I sat in my office, sipping coffee and feeling profoundly sorry for myself. My dental hygienist, who'd been with me since the beginning, walked in, put his hands on his hips and glared at me. 'He was a complete fucking bastard, and you will celebrate the anniversary of the day the shit walked out on you,' he said, in something remarkably like a snarl. 'Thanks for your sympathy,' I said dryly. He snorted. 'You've got enough pity generated yourself. You don't need mine. What you need is to get away, Brad. Get out to fresh air and blue skies. Go think about why you date assholes.' I groaned. Rick and his lover were nature freaks, who camped, hiked, rafted white waters, etc., etc. They espoused the lifestyle with the fervor of religious fanatics. They'd given me a backpack for Christmas. Me...who'd seen a tree once. I looked at him and realized I'd get no damn peace until I was sunburned and covered with insect bites. He looked at me with triumph.

'Easy trail, my gay ass,' I muttered for the fifth time. Every muscle in my body was screaming. The backpack felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. I had the distinct impression the trail went straight up, and I wouldn't have been at all surprised to have looked left and seen a Beanstalk. I was hungry, but what I wanted was a pastrami sandwich, not the freeze-dried shit I carried. I also wanted a beer. And a hot tub. I looked up through the fresh air at the blue sky and swore loudly. I heard an angry hiss that made me dive for cover.

I looked around frantically for wild beasts or psychos with machetes. Found neither. I did find a pair of tan, muscular legs dropping down out of a tree. The legs were attached to a well-built, handsome angry man who was throwing a complete fit...in complete silence. I stood up and stared at him. Well, at least he was an unarmed psycho. He came close to me and hissed again, whispering through clenched teeth. 'Do you know how long I've searched for a specimen like that?' I tilted my head at him. 'No,' I said with interest. 'How long have you searched for a specimen like that?' He identified a perfect example of the Nasty Urban Sarcasm immediately and went ballistic. I stood and grinned at him until he ran out of steam, then took him in my arms and kissed him.

He was an ornithologist named Tom who'd been out in the woods just a tad too long, as he freely admitted. His social skills needed work. His kissing didn't, but we worked on it anyway. He led me off into wild country with the instincts of a homing pigeon, holding my hand and lecturing me on creatures of wing and feather, until we got to his camp. Primitive was polite. I felt my smile go glassy as I looked around at what he considered home sweet home. Then he started to strip, and all I could think about was his body. I shed my clothes rapidly. He took my hand again and led me to the most beautiful, secluded pond I'd ever seen, the water pure and clean, surrounded by lush foliage. 'Wow,' I said in admiration. 'Wow,' I said again as he knelt before me and took my cock in his mouth.

Tom sucked my cock with the same intensity that he did everything else. His concentration was total. I looked down at his face. His eyes were closed, his expression one of complete bliss. I ran my fingertips across his cheek, feeling the muscles move as he sucked me. His eyes opened and he gave me a look I felt. He continued to stare at me, locking my eyes to his, as one hand stroked my shaft and the other gently fingered my balls. In a perfectly timed move, he pulled his mouth off my cock, held it open and pumped my shaft hard. I shot cum across the distance to his mouth. It about tripled the pleasure for me. I watched his mouth fill and overflow. Then my knees buckled and I hit the water with a splash. He pulled me out before I sank.

I lay on my back, staring dreamily up at the clouds as he lay beside me sensuously stroking one palm over my chest. Occasionally he bent to kiss my shoulder. It was quiet and peaceful, with no words but much communication. I wrapped my hand around his erection and stroked gently. He murmured to me, then put his head on my shoulder. I kissed his forehead and kept up the slow, rhythmic stroking. He breathed evenly for a time, then his breath became quick and ragged. I felt his cock swell and throb in my hand. He moaned gently, his body twitched and his hot cum splattered all over my hip. I dragged my fingertips through his cum, raised my fingers to my mouth and licked them. He raised his head and opened his mouth. I scraped more cum off my hip and fed it to him.

We swam in the lake for a while like two erotic fish, hands and mouths all over each other. The sun started to glide towards the horizon and the temperature dropped along with it. By the time we made it back to his camp, we were shivering. We dried off, dressed and built a fire. He cooked a meal from fish he'd caught with a few freeze-dried items on the side. It was the best meal I'd ever eaten. We talked for hours, than slid into his tent and zipped our sleeping bags together. He was warm and responsive as we pressed our naked bodies together. We let the arousal build slowly, exchanging deep kisses and gentle caresses, content with each other's presence. The sleep bags had become a warm cocoon.

I just lay back and let him explore my body. I'd never had a lover like him...one who made me feel as if I was the first man he'd ever touched. He did it unconsciously, using the delight he genuinely felt at being with me. He slid his mouth along my forehead, the tip of his tongue flicking out just enough to taste my skin. He kissed my eyelids, my cheeks, the tip of my nose, my chin, then pressed his closed lips to mine. Gently at first, nibbling on my lower lip, then firmer, his lips opening to allow his tongue to slide into my mouth. His tongue managed to convey both tenderness and possessiveness as it thrust into my mouth. I lay still and let him conquer me.

He slid his right palm down the center of my chest to my abdomen and rubbed gently, then went lower and made circles in my pubic hair with his fingertips. He moaned, a soft, hungry sound that shot through my nervous system and made my hard cock twitch. His mouth moved off mine, slid down my chin to my throat, then across my chest to my left nipple. He fastened his mouth on my nipple and sucked. My back arched from the feeling and my nipple grew taut and erect. He used his teeth on it gently, flicking his tongue back and forth. He moved to the other nipple and pleasured it the same way. I gasped, unable to anything more than lay there and stroke him with my fingertips.

There wasn't much room in the sleep bag, but Tom made the most of it. He raised his head, grinned at me...and disappeared. I looked at the top of the bag, and saw the lump move lower. I closed my eyes and waited. His tongue thrust into my navel with determination. I quivered as his mouth took my navel, then slid down to my pubic hair. He fastened his lips in it and pulled gently. I inhaled sharply, knowing his mouth was so close to my throbbing cock. I felt his tongue flick up the shaft and groaned. He turned his head, and closed his teeth gently around my cock, sliding his mouth up and down. It was a painless, symbolic gesture, but combined with the night air, the wind in the trees and the gleaming full moon, it was a primitive fantasy...I wanted to run naked through the woods while he chased me and dragged me down to mount and mate with me. He seemed to sense what I felt, and I heard a muffled growl as his teeth moved on my cock. His fingers tightened on my balls, with just a hint of the pain that would result if he grabbed too hard. I was his completely, and he was telling me that in tones that would brook no argument. I surrendered immediately, completely and gratefully.

He took my cock in his mouth and sucked me as if it was the only thing that would continue his existence. His lips locked around me, his tongue slid all around my shaft, and the deep, urgent grunts echoed and vibrated against my cock, causing it to twitch in response. Hidden in the sleep bag, he'd opened all the floodgates of his emotions. I felt his tears drip on me as he sucked. I put my hands under my head and lay quietly, letting my lover feast on my cock and fill the emptiness. The more his mouth moved, the farther away my own emptiness retreated, until there was only a hazy, half-formed memory that it had every existed. I grinned as his hand shot up my chest and his fingers wiggled. I put the tube of lubricant in his hand and watched it disappear.

He urged my legs apart, and slid a lubricated finger to my ass crack. I moaned happily, and he grunted in response. The finger worked its way gently into my ass. It felt wonderful, deep, firm strokes to ready me for his cock. I relaxed and let him fuck me, growing more and more excited. I wanted him so damn badly. He thrust in a second finger, and my ass muscles clamped down on him to hold him. I heard a muffled gasp of delight, and his mouth closed over the head of my cock, working it with his teeth. He thrust fast and deep, demanding that my ass open for him and accept his cock. I groaned loudly and urgently. 'Now,' I said in a hoarse whisper. 'Oh, Tom, now....'

His face suddenly shot into view, eyes burning, and he kissed me as his knee moved my legs apart. He held his shaft with his hand and guided his cock to my hungry hole and thrust it in. One quick dip of his hips and he was inside me. He remained still for a second, staring at me with a smile, content to just be inside me. Then he began to pump. Hard...fast...his hands braced beside my head, his breathing harsh. He fucked like a Fury...demanding to give every part of himself to me before he allowed himself to take. I don't remember a sensation of building to a climax. I just remember cumming, a seemingly endless climax that darkened my vision and filled it with points of light...until I heard him howl and felt the hot flood of his cum...and I was savaged by a pleasure I had never dreamed existed.

My patients comment regularly on my new 'outdoorsy' look and how happy I seem to be. Rick, my friend and hygienist, is insufferably smug over the whole thing. As he has the right to be.


Morgan Grayson

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