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Elk Camp -- part 2
Mark opened the tent flap, and my naked, half frozen self darted through, ready for the warmth around the wood stove, and a shot of whiskey. Our quick plunge into the icy creek to rinse off the elk blood and our sweat from packing out Mark's bull elk today left me chilled to the bone.
Yet, my cock, suddenly stiff from looking at Mark's bare ass and long cock nestled in the fur above his balls, had caught Mark's eye as we stood in the swiftly moving mountain stream. He moved close to me, his hot, slippery hand, pumping me to my first eager climax of the day. I had cum hard and fast, despite being thigh deep in the near freezing water, the first flakes of the coming snowstorm catching in my stubbly face and the fur on my wet chest, flushed and newly sweaty from my orgasm.
My bare feet and legs were numb by the cold, and the heat from the stove felt good. I held my hands over the stove, and I watched the steam rise from the tea kettle we had filled before we decided to take a quick dip. A cup of tea sounded great right now, with a shot or two of whiskey.
Mark had the same idea, and he grabbed two mugs, and poured a generous dollop of Tennessee's finest, and tossed in the tea bags. He grabbed a towel and briskly rubbed me dry, his hands and the soft terry cloth rubbing my hair and three day old whiskers dry. He moved down over my chest and belly, and then my cock, still oozing the last of my seed. His fingers cupped my ball sack, and I felt his heat rise through my groin, contrasting with the last bit of cold that had frozen my balls, even as Mark had stroked me, slow at first, and then faster and faster, until I gasped and cried out against his hard, hairy chest, crying out his name. I had spurted a long ropey stream of seed across his furry belly and the muscles of his forearm, which were clenched tight as his fingers clung tight to my blood filled cock.
I looked down at my slowly withering cock, and Mark's warm, strong fingers as he cupped my balls. He caught my eye, and I blushed, my skin now scarlet from face to chest. I stammered, looking away, ashamed of my lust, my quick spilling of my seed. Years of shame about my body, my desires throbbed in my head, my pulse rising.
Mark knows, now. Nothing will be the same. Our friendship was over. I was such a fool, such a loser.
ÒYou are so beautiful,Ó Mark said, shifting his gaze to my cock, and my balls, still slimed with my seed.
ÒI love how you came so hard, so fast,Ó he added. ÒYou honor me, my friend.Ó
ÒHonor??Ó I thought. ÒOh, not honor. Shame, embarrassment. Here I am, buck naked in front of my best friend. I'd just gotten hard in front of Mark, and cum long and fast. I can't believe myself. I'm such an animal.Ó
ÒYes, honor,Ó Mark said.
ÒOh, my God, I...I spoke out loud!Ó I wailed. ÒNow, you know everything. I'm so sorry. I'm such a loser.Ó
My naked lover stood up, his big, brawny arms wrapping around me, enveloping me in his hug. He held me tight, as big tears flowed down my cheeks, into my whiskery cheeks and jaw, soaking into his skin, still wet from our plunge into the stream a few minutes ago.
ÒYou're my lover, Jake,Ó Mark whispered in my ear. ÒAnd, that makes you a first class winner.Ó
ÒI've known we were meant to be lovers for a long time, JakeÓ, Mark said. ÒI was hoping we'd become lovers on this trip. And, I think you did, too.Ó
I nodded, my sobs still rising up out of my chest, my face still red with embarrassment.
ÒHow did you know, Mark? I asked.
ÒOh, in so many ways. The ways you've looked at me, the times you went out of your way to spend time with me. In your eyes, especially your eyes,Ó Mark added.
I sighed, deeply. All the tension, all the years of shame and hiding seeped out of me, poison running into the dirt beneath my bare feet. I felt light, free, safe in Mark's warm, tight arms.
He kissed me, our whiskers scratchy, catching on each other, entangling us tighter, as his lips touched mine.
I kissed him back, feeling his warmth, his love for me. I breathed deep, smelling his clean, wet skin, and the woodsy smell of creek water, and a bit of the smoke from the stove.
I felt alive, finally, light, and free. Free to be me, at last.
I grabbed the towel out of Mark's hand, and gently dried him, taking my time, running my fingers through his hair, across the stubble of his face, through the thick mat of fur that covered the hard muscles of his chest. His nipples were hard, stiff in my fingers, and I stooped down to suckle them, bringing the nips to a point, wet and hard.
Mark moaned, his voice rumbling deep in his thick chest, filling my ears with his voice, his care for me.
I moved the towel lower, across his muscled stomach, and then lower, into his thick bush above his cock. Slowly, I dried the creek water from his hair, his cock, and his large, wrinkly ball sack. I explored him more, as he moved his sinewy thighs farther apart, his ball sack now loose and open. Going under and behind his balls, I gently dried all of his sack, and the sensitive line of skin leading to his hole, and his strong globes of butt muscle, covered with his curly red hair.
Once he was dry, Mark kissed me again, long and deep, then whispered my name, again and again, in my ear, as he nuzzled my neck, and softly tongued my ear lobe.
ÒWe need a little whiskey, now, to celebrate,Ó Mark whispered, as he moved away to the bench next to the stove, and grabbed our mugs of tea and whiskey.
The hot tea and booze felt rich and strong, as it flowed down my throat, filling my stomach with warmth.
We'd straddled the bench, facing each other, our thighs open, our cocks draped over our ball sacks. Open, naked, and lovers at last. My shoulders loosened a bit, and I stretched my arms, the tension of hauling all that meat down from the ridge easing a bit. The warmth of the tea and whiskey spread out throughout my newly-toughened body, and I started to warm up and relax.
As we slowly sipped our hot whiskey and tea, I noticed Mark also stretching out his chest and shoulders, throwing up one muscled arm and then another. His damp thatch of his thick armpit hair glistened a bit in the waning afternoon light in the tent. The taut points of his nipples moved a bit across his muscled chest as he stretched, and I longed to taste his large nipples again across my tongue.
He looked at me, looking at him, and grinned.
ÒOh, we're gonna have a good time this evening, Jake,Ó Mark said, pulling one leg up high, his hands gripping his knee, and stretching his butt muscles, his crotch opening more to me, giving me a clear view of his cock, and his hairy ball sack, loose and warm, against the rough wood of the bench.
ÒAnd, I'm about ready for having some real fun with you,Ó he added, a big grin splitting his new beard.
Mark got up and put another stick of wood in the stove, and poured another mug of tea and whiskey for both of us. I gazed at his muscular glutes flexing around the tent as he walked, his cock dancing a bit against the thick fur that splayed across his crotch and up his stomach, forming a thick line before it merged into the thick curls that covered his chest and rose even higher, into his new red beard.
For once, I could look at a man, in all his glory, and admire his muscles, his stature, his beautiful cock. I hungered to taste him in my mouth, to suck him, and run my fingers under his balls, to feel him harden against my fingers, to slowly stroke him, giving him the same pleasures he gave me a few minutes ago, as we had stood thigh deep in the freezing mountain creek. My cock twitched at the memory, of Mark's tight, frenzied pistoning of my cock, pushing me over the edge, exploding my seed into the cold mountain air.
I wanted that for him now, to give back what he had given me.
Yet, he was the first man I'd do that with, the first time I'd be taking a man's cock in my mouth, and holding him in my hand, feeling the beat of his heart in the tip of his cock head, as I'd help him climb to the point of no return, until he could hold back no more, and share his love with me.
It was about dusk, and the tent was getting dark. Mark walked over to one of the kerosene lamps and struck a wooden kitchen match, then took off the glass chimney and lit the wick. He turned the brass screw at the base of the lamp, advancing the wick a bit, until the flame burned clean, but not too bright. He set the glass chimney down around the brass base of the wick, and a soft glow of golden light cast a bit of warmth around the tent.
The warm light glowed against his skin, turning his skin a soft bronze, his red fur ablaze with flecks of light. I could see his cockhead peak out his foreskin, growing a bit, a drop of precum sparkling.
ÒYou're blushing again, Jake,Ó Mark whispered, as he handed the second mug of tea and whiskey to me.
ÒYa thinking about what you want to do with me?Ó he chuckled.
I could only nod, my throat closed with embarrassment, with hesitation. This was new ground for me, and part of me was scared. What if I wasn't good enough? What if I didn't know how to really pleasure him? What if....
ÒJust sip your tea and don't think about how to do it,Ó Mark whispered, as he moved around behind me, until his hard, muscular thighs touched my back. ÒWe've got almost two weeks to get to know each other, and to teach each other about love.Ó
I felt his cock rub softly against my head, feeling safe, cared for, the hot whiskey doing its business, taking the tension out of my back, chasing away my fear of failing tonight.
A gust of wind rattled the canvas above us, whistling through the trees. I could hear the snow fall hard against the windward side of the tent. We wouldn't be going anywhere for a few days anyway, the way this storm was coming on.
We finished our tea and whiskey in silence, listening to the storm grow outside, feeling the strength of the tent, its ropes taut and secure, the tent poles swaying just slightly as the fresh gusts of snow-filled wind rushed down from the ridge, down from where Mark had shot his bull elk this morning.
So much had changed since then, since Mark held me close to his chest in the creek, caressing my cock, bringing my manhood to life, raising my lust to the bursting point, as I unloaded spurt after spurt of my cum against him. And, now, we would spend our evening with each other, naked and hot against each other, our noses filled with our lusty sweat and our spurts of cum drying against our skin, our scruffy beards, and the blankets that would keep out the early winter storm.
Mark took the now empty mug out of my hands, setting both mugs on the bench. His rough hand clasped mine, and he pulled me up from the bench, until my back was tight against his hard chest. His breath was soft on the nape of my neck, his fingers slowly wandering through my hair and down across my face, feeling my whiskers. I could smell the faint smell of the tea and the whiskey and the firewood, and a bit of the kerosene on his fingertips, as he rubbed his finger along the stubble of my moustache, the whiskers wiry and coarse.
One hand moved down a bit, touching the ends of the hair on my chest, his fingers again exploring me, finding first one, and then another nipple. I jumped a bit, this sensation new to me, sending a spark down my torso, down to my balls, making my cock twitch a bit, and begin to grow.
ÒIt...it should be your turn,Ó I whispered.
But, Mark's hands held me against him, and his fingers renewed their exploration of my now stiff nipples. I could feel my cock swelling, rising, new fingers warm against the thin skin of my shaft.
ÒIt's both of our turns,Ó Mark whispered in my ear, his voice tight with desire. ÒIt always will be.Ó
The wind picked up outside, and, finally, I felt the chill of the evening. The heat from the tea and the whiskey and our lust eased a bit, and Mark grabbed his sleeping bag, unzipped it and lay it flat over mine. I'd opened my bag flat that morning, to air out a bit.
Another gust raged down from the ridge, whistling around the corner of the tent.
ÒLet's get warm,Ó he grinned.
We slipped under the warmth of Mark's big goose down sleeping bag, and the soft cotton inner blanket that he had tied in the bag before we'd left town. The blankets and the sleeping bags felt good to me, and we lay there, side by side, enjoying the warmth that was building up, our naked bodies heating the air in the bags, bringing warmth to our chilled legs and arms.
Mark turned on his side, his chest hair rubbing against my bare shoulder, his head propped up by one of his big arms. I could smell him, his manly scent, and a bit of the creek water smell, fresh and wild. His breath smelled faintly of the whiskey and the tea, warm, inviting.
ÒWe'll take this slow. Slow and easy,Ó he said, his deep voice the only sound in the tent.
The wind had paused, for a bit, and there was the softness outside of the snow falling on the tent roof. My heart beat loudly in my chest, eager, yet afraid. Afraid of finding out what I really liked, what it was like to be with another man, to be so ... intimate, naked, with Mark.
ÒI'm scared, Mark,Ó I whispered. ÒScared I'll disappoint you.Ó
ÒWe'll go slow,Ó Mark repeated. ÒAnd, you can't do anything wrong.Ó
ÒTouch me,Ó he said, his voice deep now, edgy, eager.
He took my hand closest to him, bringing it across his hip, and let it rest there. His skin was warm, soft, his hipbone hard. I spread my fingers, feeling his softness, his warmth, and moved up, across his belly, his hair soft and warm, the heat of his abs heating my hands.
My knuckle felt him first, his cock head, damp, his silky foreskin stretched now, by his growing manhood. He radiated heat, the blood filling him.
ÒYes,Ó he sighed. ÒTouch me.Ó
My fingers opened, and I felt him, going the full length of his hardness, until my thumb was entwined in the nest of curls at the base of his stalk. I moved up again, feeling him, hard and hot.
His hand gripped my shoulder, and moved down my chest, finding, again, my hardened nipple. Toying with its hardness, his fingers lingered, caressing the whorls of hair around my nipple, then running through the thicker patch of hair in the center of my chest, until they found my other stiffened tit.
Eagerly, we explored each other, our calloused fingers finding curves and folds, and patches of thick, curly hair, and skin wanting to be touched, again and again. The golden light from the kerosene lamp shined on Mark's face and bare back, his bag slipping down a bit, as we danced the dance of lovers.
I reached up, bringing his stubbled face close to mine, and kissed him. Our hands stopped moving, stopped exploring, as we lingered there, in that moment, lips and hands and eager cocks all tangled in our sleeping bags.
Mark moved around, swinging one massive leg around and over my head, until his swinging balls and hard cock loomed above me, filling my eyes with his masculine virility. His chest moved closer above my stomach, his mouth poised to take me deep inside of his wet, eager lips.
I slipped inside of his hot, wanting mouth, his furry chin and lips pushing against the fur at the base of my cock, his breath hot, steamy against my balls.
ÒOh, my God,Ó I moaned, not finding the real prayer I offered to the gods, gratitude for the wonders of this lover, this demigod, who now ran his tongue along my cock, driving me close to the edge of my second explosion with my new lover.
He lowered himself closer to me, his cock brushing my lips, a bit of his precum oozing onto my lips. He tasted wild, like the creek water, like the pungent smell of the spruce and pine needles on the ground where we had skinned the elk that morning.
And I slaked my thirst on his cock, taking him deep into me, like he had taken me. And I drank, I drank deeply, feeling him thrust again and again into me, his balls slapping softly against my newly bearded jaw and chin. My nose was filled with the yeasty odor of his manliness, new sweat seeping from the hairy skin of his ball sack, and the hard muscles of his groin and his thighs.
He kept me deep inside of him too, but his need was more urgent, and his thrusts deeper, hungrier. Still, my balls rose high in their sack and I could feel my jism rising behind my cock, getting ready to explode once again from my lover's touch.
Mark's breath came in short gasps and grunts, and I fingered his nipple, pinching and tweaking his tit, feeling his moans coming deep inside of his now sweaty chest. His gasps came now in rhythm, faster and faster, nearly staccato, his voice vibrating into my cock, into my balls, as he continued to suck me.
His thighs gripped my shoulders and drops of sweat flew against my face, as he thrust harder, more urgently. I felt his balls rise hard against his steeled body. His balls were large, and firm, eager to shoot their seed and release him from his passion. His sack was hot in my hand, my fingers caressing his hairs, drenched now in his lust sweat, and the drops of my saliva that lubricated his pistoning in and out of my mouth.
My own cum rose, and I could not hold myself back.
Mark let loose with a bellow that resonated around my cock, setting me off, as the first blast of him cum roared out of his manhood, half filling my mouth, his urgent pistoning cutting off my breath.
His second blast hit my tongue at the instant my first volley started to fill his mouth, my balls emptying themselves again, for the second time today, my second time with Mark.
We lay side by side, drained cock to cum-drenched face, our heads resting on the splayed thigh of each other, gasping for breath, the air filled with the stench of fresh cum and lust driven sweat of the our coupling.
The only other sound in the tent was the crackling of the wood in the stove, and the icy winds bringing a deepening snow to Elk Camp.