“My turn.”
I knelt and opened his shorts, letting them fall. His cock sprang out, half hard. Up close it was even better, cut, long, veiny and with a slight bend in it that drove me wild. I took the dark purplish head in my mouth and rolled my tongue around the crown, drawing a soft moan.
“Yeah,” the boy said. “Suck it, man. Oh, yeah,” he cried as I took him all the way in, gagging slightly as his rod hit the back of my throat. His response delighted me and I slid my head back and forth with abandon, grabbing his shaft with one spit-coated hand and twisting it, then pulling on his low-hanging balls.
I decided to up the ante. I reached around and found the crack between his cheeks and let my finger wander down it until it found his asshole. It opened with just a little pressure-his back door had obviously been entered before. I snaked my digit into his warm, moist crevice and he moaned in response, his cries getting louder as I found the small, firm knob of his prostate and began working it.
“Oh, shit, fucking nice.”
Suddenly he pulled out of my mouth, walked the few steps to the bench at the back of the platform and dropped his shorts again so that his pale, perfect ass was bare to the world. Then he bent, grabbed the backrest, and looked back at me.
“Rubber’s in my pack.”
I nearly laughed out loud. He’d been playing shy back on the trail, but that was then, this was now. I pulled my shorts partway up and went to where he’d thrown his pack down. A quick rummage inside and I found the foil packet, tore it open and pulled out the prelubed ring of latex. I went back to the bench where my conquest waited.
“Hurry,” he said as I hooded myself and spit on the rubber to give him a little extra lube. “Someone might be coming.”
“Uh huh.” I found his hole again with the tip of my sheathed cock. Despite my recent finger-fuck it was tight shut again.
“Shove it in. Now!”
I stabbed my cock into him with a quick thrust. His head snapped up, his face twisted in pain as he took the invasion. I tried to back off a bit, but he stopped me with a strong hand on my hip.
“It’s okay. Do it.”
A gentle rain began to fall at that moment as I slid in and out of his butt, watching my sheathed rod disappearing into him. I turned my face up to the foggy sky and closed my eyes. I smelled the fresh air, listened to the ceaseless rustle of the rainforest and the roar of the ocean far below. There was nothing but the cool rain and gentle breeze on my skin and the thrusting of my hips and the hot tightness of his asshole engulfing my cock.
I bent down and felt the warmth of his body, drank in his scent, sweat mixed with tobacco. “How’re you doing?” I asked him.
“Fantastic. Fuck me hard. Make me cum.”
I stepped up the pace, driving into him as I grabbed his cock and jacked it, hard. In a few moments his breath began hissing through his clenched teeth. I felt his prick pulsing as it pumped hot semen into my hand. His asshole clutched my own cock inside him and sent me over the edge. “Aw fuck,” I whispered in his ear, my eyes screwed shut as I unloaded into the rubber.
After a moment I brought my sticky hand up to his mouth. “Eat it,” I said. He obeyed, slurping up his jizz and licking my hand clean. Just as he finished we heard faint voices somewhere up the hill. Footsteps were approaching on the boardwalk.
“Shit!”
I never thought two human beings could move so fast. I ripped my cock out of his ass. We split apart, pulled up and readjusted our clothes. The boy grabbed the water bottle we’d filled with our urine and threw it into his pack, just as a man and woman appeared. They looked at us with startled expressions for a moment, then smiled, a bit uncertainly. We were still breathing hard, and must have looked a bit disheveled.
The boy spoke first. “Hi,” he said. “We were just leaving.”
“Can you see anything today?” the man asked. He was tall and blond, straight as an oak, and had a European accent.
“We didn’t see a thing,” I said. “But you might have better luck.”
We walked past the couple and onto the boardwalk, the boy ahead of me. When we were far enough away from the platform and out of earshot he turned to me and winked. “That was close.”
I nodded. “But worth it. What’s your name, anyway?”
He stopped and offered his hand. “Gabe.”
I said my name and held out my hand. He shook it, then laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“It’s still sticky.” We started walking again. I put on my windbreaker.
“Gabe, you’re a daredevil,” I said. “I like that.”
“So are you. I couldn’t believe it when you started pissing right in front of me. That was hot. Hey,” Gabe said, frowning, “What did you do with the rubber?”
I thought for a moment, then snickered. “I’m still wearing it.”
He raised his eyebrows as his tongue shot out from between his white teeth. “I’d love to take it off you when we get back.”
“Sounds like a plan to me. And,” I leered at him. “I’ve got fresh ones back where I’m staying.”
The rain was still falling, and we had a long way to go through the Kauai swamp. But I was looking forward to the trek home.
I snapped a picture of Gabe that day. It’s in one of my albums. Every so often I pull it out and look at his smiling face and lean body. I remember the day I became a member of the ultimate Mile High Club, on a foggy observation platform in the middle of a tropical rainforest, at the top of the world.