A gay sex stories: Kilohana Lookout
When I got to the first turnout up the Waimea Canyon Road and couldn’t see anything I knew that my worst fears had come true. The fog had beaten me. If I’d just gotten up a little earlier I might have had a better chance of getting clear weather. But it was late morning now and things weren’t going to get better.
Kauai, the smallest of the major Hawaiian Islands, is a tropical paradise. But it’s also one of the wettest, mistiest places on earth when you get up into the mountains. On a good day, hiking out to the cliffs of the Na Pali coast, the northern edge of the island, from Koke’e Park can be an unforgettable experience. On a bad day, which was what this was turning out to be, it can be a long stumble through swampland and mud, and when you reach the lookouts, there’s nothing except gray, clammy fog swirling around you.
What the hell. I’d had several great days here vacationing on the Garden Island and was in a mellow mood, helped by the company of a lanky young dude I’d picked up hitchhiking near Princeville two days ago. He seemed a bit shy at first, but melted pretty quickly once I’d gotten him back to my rented condo and plied him with a few beers. After that it was actually pretty easy to get him out of his board shorts. The milky skin inside his tan line made a startling contrast with the bronze of the rest of his buffed body. He sighed and grabbed my head when I inhaled his floppy cut dick, hanging with a nice pair of balls beneath a neat patch of pubic hair. I knelt on the carpet and sucked his load out of him, which he shot down my throat in long, hot spurts, moaning and thrashing on my living room couch.
I figured he was probably a curious straight guy and hadn’t expected much more, so I was floored when he said, “You haven’t cum yet. Got any rubbers?” Fortunately I’d remembered to pack the condoms. We retired to the bedroom, discarding the rest of our minimal clothing. Before the evening was over he’d ridden my pole while I lay on my back, taken my cock doggie-style on his hands and knees, and finally flopped onto his back, egging me on with whispered obscenities, jerking himself to a second cumming as I shot my long-delayed load into his talented ass.
Dan ended up bunking with me overnight. (I’d learned his name over breakfast the next morning.) He’d taken off yesterday to explore the Big Island–I drove him to the airport in Lihue. So I was by myself today as I pushed on, carefully steering around the sharp curves in the narrow road, dodging cars that came careening toward me. At the eighteen-mile marker the road came to an end at a parking lot. If I wanted to go further I’d have to hike. I was dressed to do just that, in khaki shorts, all-weather windbreaker over a t-shirt, and my oldest, most rugged boots. The trails here could be damn muddy and the red clay couldn’t be washed out once it got into your stuff.
I was going on the Pihea Trail, which follows a narrow ridge above the Alakai Swamp. Long ago men had tried to build a road here which would have circled the island, but had given up. It was a more or less smooth dirt path for the first half mile and I passed a lot of casual hikers, stout elderly couples in shorts clutching cameras, young guys with their girlfriends. Out of force of habit I kept an eye out for interesting looking single men, but I seemed to be the only guy out here by himself. There were occasional views off to the side but the fog wasn’t lifting.
After a mile the trail made a sharp turn inland, down into the swamp. Soon I was really glad for my sturdy shoes and old clothes–recent rains had turned much of the clay into slippery goo, and there were puddles of water between the rocks. I passed a quartet of hikers coming back up the trail who looked exhausted and dirty. My feet had given way under me a couple of times and I didn’t look that much better.
“Once you get to the boardwalk, it’s not so bad,” one of them reassured me.
I thanked the man and pushed onward. Sure enough, several hundred yards on a battered row of planks appeared. I continued along them, glad to be out of the mud. Now that I didn’t have to struggle just to stay upright, I started to look more closely at the terrain. To a casual eye it may have seemed just like another forest. But there were rare plants and flowers here, as well as birds found nowhere else in the world. This was their last refuge–predators that had decimated them on the other Hawaiian Islands hadn’t made it to Kauai. The air was clean and fresh. Green foliage dotted with bright red and yellow flowers surrounded me. Once in a while I heard a bird call. I had the feeling I was in another world.
I’d been walking for maybe half an hour, passing only an occasional lone hiker or couple, when a ray of sunshine broke through the cloud covering, illuminating a huge, irregularly shaped log completely covered in a fuzz of green moss, looking like a sleeping giant on the forest floor. This was worth a picture. I pulled my digital camera out of my backpack and started snapping away.
Just a few moments later the sun vanished and the world turned gray again, but at least I’d taken all the shots I’d wanted. I pulled my water bottle out of the pack I was carrying and took a drink. It was then that I looked back down the boardwalk and saw another hiker approaching. In just a few moments he was close enough for me to get a good look at him. I liked what I saw.
He was tanned like everyone in Hawaii, not as tall as Dan but equally hard and lean, dressed in a gray tank top and shorts that might have once been red but were now faded to a rusty brown. His shoes were stained with red clay like mine. His longish, untidy hair was a sun-streaked blond, and he sported a thin mustache in a style that was unfashionable right now but that went well with his angular features. He carried a small pack on his back.
I could see muscle and sinew rippling in his arms and legs as he walked toward me. All in all he was a fine specimen of young manhood and I felt my cock stir in the pouch of the jockstrap I was wearing. Unfortunately his shorts were too loose for me to size him up in that department, so to speak.
As he approached he nodded. He stopped, and his eye fell on my camera. “Getting any good shots?” he asked.
I shrugged. “There was sun a moment ago, but it’s gone now.”
“Yeah, not really a good day to come up here. It’s still nice, though.” The boy put his hands on his hips. “Not as many people around when it’s foggy. Just us and the endangered species.” He smiled, his teeth bright white against his tanned face. His eyes were a light green. He seemed in no hurry to leave. I had the feeling he was checking me out.
I met his gaze and held it, a fraction too long, then let my eyes drop to his crotch. “Yeah, just us,” I replied.
He blinked, his smile vanishing. “Well, see you around,” he said, then began walking rapidly away from me down the trail. Just my luck, another shy type. I shrugged and waited until he was a good distance away, then started heading down the boardwalk myself.