A gay story: The Camping Trip (a new challenge) I was sandwiched between two bears that I was helplessly turned on by. Russ, John, and I were squished together in the back seat of Walt’s sedan, forced to cuddle up by the lack of space and each of our considerable girth. Currently Russ’ right arm was curled around my shoulder, and John’s left elbow was against my stomach, his hand resting on my thigh. When he thought Russ wasn’t looking, he would rub my leg or stomach, wherever he could reach, secretly trying to keep me aroused. Not that I needed it with all that bear flesh pressing against me. But let me go back to how I got here in the first place.
Earlier that summer, John put a long camping trip together, inviting Russ and me along with Walt, one of the school’s maintenance men. He arranged things so that Russ and I would tent together, knowing this would drive me wild. I had been looking forward to the trip for weeks now. There was a lake – which meant swimming – and some canoes, and lots of hiking trails and picnic sites. And both Russ and Walt were bearish men of the type that turned me on. Guaranteed that was why John chose them to go with us, a little tease meant just for me. I was the only one going on the trip that wasn’t married with kids.
A week before the campout, John told me the first challenge. “Don’t bother bringing any pajamas,” he said. “You’re gonna sleep naked the whole campout. And you can’t hide the fact from Russ. No getting into the sleeping bag and then pulling your shorts off.”
If that weren’t bad enough, the next day he added that if I had to get up to pee in the middle of the night, that would be naked too. Thankfully this was a remote area, so there wouldn’t be other campers about. I was sure he had some more challenges up his sleeve, but just the thought of being naked and in such close quarters with Russ was enough to keep me distracted for the rest of the week.
— Day 1 —
The day of the campout finally came and we all met at the staff parking lot. Walt was driving his four-door sedan. John had helped packing it up, and had filled up the front seat with equipment (suspicious) leaving the back seat for the rest of us to ride together. I sat in the middle.
The ride up into the mountains to the lake was a long one, tucked between John and Russ. Two bona fide bears with not enough space to keep us from rubbing up against each other. We all wore shorts and t-shirts, so skin and hair were brushing up against each other all over the back seat. And like I said, John was taking full advantage of our proximity and my body’s reactions to it.
John was the organizer and un-spoken leader of the group, and had done some research on the weather for the week ahead. “The days are supposed to be nice and warm,” he announced, “but the nights get really chilly up in the mountains.” I sensed a catch coming up from the way he was avoiding looking at me.
“When our family camps up here, Julie and I generally zip our sleeping bags together, rather than sleeping solo. It keeps you both warmer, and the added room is much more comfortable.”
Russ nodded. “I’ve heard about that on survival shows, its supposed to help conserve body heat.”
“I’m game,” Walt called back from the driver’s seat.
John nudged me surreptitiously with an elbow, and I realized then what he was up to. I had been instructed to sleep in the nude, and now I was supposed to agree to zipping our sleeping bags together. This was too much, and I knew he was not going to let me out of the sleeping naked challenge. This was his plan all along. He nudged me again. I had no choice.
“Sounds fine to me, if you’re OK with it, Russ,” I said, hoping he’d wasn’t. But I was out of luck.
“Sounds cozy,” he said, and teasingly put his hand on my leg, rubbing down to my knee and laughing as I flinched in shock at the touch. “I’m sure Beth wouldn’t want us to freeze to death up there.” He squeezed my leg and let go, which is a good thing because if he had left it there I was afraid I would cum in my pants.
The rest of the ride was uneventful. John stopped trying to make me physically aroused, knowing that what was going on in my head was driving me to distraction just as well. How was I going to get into the sleeping bag naked without weirding Russ out? I would have to be sure I didn’t have a boner when I went to climb in. I really wanted to smack John for this.
When we got to the lake I was going over scenarios of how to bring it up, waiting for a time when Russ and I were alone to broach the subject. I certainly didn’t want John sticking his oar into the conversation. We finally had some time while we were setting up our tent site – John and Walt were in a different part of the site setting up their tent. After ten minutes of chickening out, I finally took a deep breath and dove in.
“So, about zipping our sleeping bags together…” I started sheepishly “…I actually didn’t really bring pajamas with me.”
“That’s no big deal.” Russ took the other end of the pole I had passed through the loops to him and fitted it into the grommet.
I put my end into my side’s grommet. “I mean, like, I don’t really wear pajamas.”
“Really, it’s no big deal,” he said, unfolding another pole. “I usually just wear underwear to bed. No worries.”
I was still looking down, red in the face, when he passed the pole through to my side. He could see I was still uncomfortable. “So what, do you mean you sleep in the ‘all-together’?” he asked, chuckling.
“The all-together?” I repeated, not knowing what that meant.
He laughed, “You know, naked.”
“Well, yeah,” I said. “I don’t wear anything.”
This was not strictly true. Normally I also wear underwear to bed, but I was doing this for the challenge, and it would seem weird to sleep naked here if it were not my normal mode of repose.
“Well, that’s fine by me,” he assured me, “if that’s what you’re worried about.”
We both bent down to put our poles in, and the tent popped into shape. We finished staking it down and putting on the rain fly in relatively comfortable silence. I felt greatly relieved to have that conversation behind us, relieved that Russ hadn’t seemed at all put off by it. When we were in the tent setting up our stuff, he brought it up again.
“I actually used to sleep naked sometimes when I was single,” he said, rolling out his sleeping bag. “Now I’m actually too embarrassed to sleep nude, I worry about getting a stiffy, and having Beth see it.”
I laughed at the image of Russ being embarrassed for his wife to see him aroused. “Isn’t that kind of the point of being married?” I teased him.
“Well, yeah, I guess I just want those times to be intentional, not accidental. I don’t want her reaching over and feeling that between my legs in the middle of the night, she might get some ideas.”
“Sounds like a bonus, if you ask me,” I retorted.
He laughed at that, “Well, I guess you’re right, something to think about…”
We were zipping the two sleeping bags together now, and I was trying not to picture the same scenario playing out later that night — I was guaranteed to have a stiffy myself, probably for most of the night. I already had one from all this talk about Russ with a boner. He didn’t seem at all uncomfortable with the subject, bringing it up again while we organized our bags for the night.
“I used to like the whole sleeping in the nude thing,” he admitted. “I would walk around my apartment without any clothes all the time. It was a turn on for me, letting everything hang out. It’s different now with a family. But I still take advantage of opportunities to go au-natural when they’re away for a weekend, or if I’m at a hotel.”
I nodded and made sounds of agreement, wanting him to continue as this would be fodder for my fantasies from now on.
“My problem,” he continued, “is that I can’t keep my hands off myself, and I have to jerk off if I want to get any sleep. Even then, I just get aroused again by the sheets sliding around on my bare skin, and I have to get myself off again. I usually end up putting on underwear just to get some rest!”
I was having trouble keeping myself from breathing heavily with all these images in my head, fodder for fantasies indeed! We finished with the tent set up and it was time to think about supper. I didn’t know Russ that well, and I was thrilled to be in his confidence enough to have these types of conversations. I hoped for many more during this long trip.
After supper and a long time of hanging out by the campfire with a few beers, it was time for bed. Knowing the sleeping situation, I immediately started to get hard. It took quite a bit of mental control to keep from getting a full hard on, which was even harder once Russ started getting undressed. The tent was a decent size, but not quite tall enough to stand up straight in, and not quite wide enough to keep from brushing against each other as we maneuvered out of our clothes.
We had a small lamp hooked to the peak of the tent, so there was good light to see each other by. It was hard to keep my eyes off Russ’ furry body, covered in soft blond curls, touches of which had turned white. It made such an interesting combination with the hair on his head, a strawberry blond almost hinting at being red. I wondered what color his beard would be, or if he had ever worn one.
He was wearing a light grey pair of boxer briefs that looked as if they had been well worn. The fabric was thin and hugged his thick thighs, the soft bulge of his penis clearly evident brushing back and forth across the fabric as he shifted his weight getting his socks off.
I had taken everything off but my white fruit of the loom briefs. Russ noticed me hesitating.
“Go ahead son, get nekkid. No need to stay modest on my account.” Then he climbed into the sleeping bag, leaving me to get the rest of the way ‘nekkid’ on my own.
I tucked my underwear into the side pocket of my bag and kneeled down to get into bed. Then I remembered the light and stood to turn it off. I tried to hurry as I could feel blood rushing into my penis which I had so far succeeded in keeping mostly flaccid. His command to get nekkid had started the process and it was currently filling, a soft sock full of sand just starting to lift its head.
Russ lifted the flap of the sleeping bag to give me more room, and I slid myself in on the left side. There was no way to do this without quite a bit of bodily contact, which meant by the time I was fully in, I was also fully erect. Even though I was all the way to one side, our shoulders and upper arms were still touching. It was electric how our arm hairs brushed against each other. It was going to be a long time before I would be able to sleep.
We went about shifting ourselves around over the next few minutes, adjusting pillows and turning on our sides, then back again. Several times our hips touched and I felt his underwear brushing against my skin, a feeling that would stay in my memory forever, I was sure.
I ended up facing to the left, away from him, and I could feel him facing away from me. I relished the warmth of our backs pressed against each other, and again my bare bottom could feel his underwear against it. I had started to relax after a while, and was drifting somewhat when I felt Russ turn over to face me. He was breathing deeply. I figured he was mostly asleep, and now he was spooning me.
So much for relaxing, I was as hard as ever in half a second. His knees were curled behind mine, his left arm was underneath him pressed along my back, and I could feel his right arm resting between us. I could feel the fabric of his underwear against my bottom again, and imagined I could feel his soft penis on the other side of it. I could at least tell there was not a boner there.
I drifted in and out a few times, but I was too aroused to sleep. Finally I rolled over onto my back, and jumped as Russ’ right arm flopped down over my chest, just at the top of my stomach. It lay there, rising and falling with my breathing. This was more than any fantasy I could have dreamed up, but I was frozen. It was silly, but I was afraid for him to wake up and find us like this, almost like I was doing something inappropriate.
Then Russ shifted again, turning slightly more toward me, dropping his right leg forward and on top of mine. I snuck a peek to my right but his eyes were still closed, his mouth slightly open in deep sleep. But I was trapped now, and getting more aroused by the second. A big old bear had me in his grasp, and he didn’t even know it.
He took a deep sleepy breath and stretched a little, then slid his leg further over me, almost between my legs. He slid his right arm down over my stomach to lay below it, his open hand resting its curled fingertips on the sensitive triangle between my stomach, thigh, and pubic area, like he was preparing to tickle me there.
I had been taking deep breaths, trying to keep from cumming, but that intimate contact was too much for me, and before I knew it an orgasm was starting. I tried to keep still, breathing as silently as I could as spurts of semen started pumping out of me. This was all happening under the sleeping bag, but based on his position I was sure it must have gotten on his hand or arm. Some of it was probably soaking into the sleeping bag, too – I’d have to find a way to clean up some of the evidence before he found it in the morning.
I was coming down off the ledge, breathing in quiet gasps. My penis was finally getting soft for the first time since getting into the sleeping bag. But my worries about how to secretly clean this up disappeared when I looked over and saw that Russ had his eyes open and an embarrassed grin on his face.
“Looks like you DO have the same problem as me sleeping naked. I figured you wouldn’t get any rest until that stiffy of yours relieved itself.” He moved his hand down and felt around until it closed around my scrotum and my totally soft penis, rolling them around once with his fingers.
“Well, it feels like you’ll be able to get some rest now. Good night,” and with that he turned away from me and settled himself on his side. “Sleep tight.”
He was right – I was exhausted now, and curiously no longer aroused by our proximity and all that bare skin. I turned over on my right side, facing him, and snuggled up to his back, emboldened by his having done the same thing to me earlier. I even draped my left arm over his left side, my hand laying open over his flank.
His breathing was deep and even, he seemed to have fallen back to sleep immediately on turning over. I drifted off to sleep more slowly, with my fingers occasionally brushing back and forth over the hair that coated the side of his stomach.
— Day 2 —
When I woke the next morning Russ had already gotten out of the tent. Normally I like to lay in bed for a while waking up, but camping and sleeping on the ground is not comfortable enough for that, so I got up and out of the bag. When I went to get dressed, I realized my bag was not in the tent, and neither was Russ’. I was trying to figure out what to do, as I had no clothes to put on, when I heard the zipper open and Russ poked his head in.
“Coffee’s ready,” he said, “come on out and have a cup with us, we’re enjoying the sunrise over the lake.” He looked down at where I had covered my morning wood with my hands, hunching over slightly. “And no need to be shy,” he grinned, “not after you already squirted all over my arm.”
I blushed deeply as he unzipped the tent flap the rest of the way and held it open for me. He held out a mug of coffee, which I took with one hand, still holding the other over my erection. Russ was still in his grey boxer briefs, with what looked like a bit of morning wood himself.
I saw our bags over by the picnic table, and followed Russ over, where he picked up his coffee mug. I reached into my bag, but Russ said “don’t worry about getting dressed yet. We’re having a Pajama Sunrise with Coffee, according to John, and you’re already in your pajamas…” he grinned at me. I rolled my eyes back at him. He chuckled as I put my underwear back on top of my bag.
It was chilly, but not uncomfortably cold, and it would be pleasant to warm up in the early morning sun drinking camp coffee, the best kind of coffee in my opinion. John and Walt were already standing at the water’s edge with their mugs, watching the sun peek through the trees on the other side of the lake. They were both in their underwear.
It was a dream for me to see so much bear skin so naturally displayed. John was wearing a faded pair of red boxer briefs similar to Russ’, the cotton thin and worn and revealing of the contours underneath. The fabric in front hung down loosely from a decent tent of morning wood. Walt was wearing tighty-whities, his morning wood held up more snugly by the fabric, his balls hugged by the pouch below. Three married men, comfortable in their skin and un-self-conscious about standing about in their underwear.
And then there was me, completely naked and very self-conscious about it, feeling like they would all be wondering why I wasn’t wearing anything. As we approached the waterfront Russ put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close, addressing the others.
“Well, you said you wanted a Pajama Sunrise, John, and this is what Artie wears to bed, so it didn’t seem fair to let him get dressed if we weren’t.” He squeezed my shoulder jovially.
“Absolutely, fair’s fair,” agreed John, grinning at me.
“You might need to take a plunge in the cold lake to help that morning wood settle down,” added Walt, and the rest of them laughed as I blushed, forcing myself not to cover myself, keeping both hands on my mug.
“All right, take it easy on the kid,” Russ chided, and I loved the fatherly tone he took in protecting me. “He’s the only one here without a wife taking care of his needs.”
“That’s right,” John said. “He’s the only one of us who could get away with sleeping naked, lucky kid. I hope you behaved yourself, Russ.”
Russ looked at me a little sheepishly. “Well, I may have tickled him a little, but then I let him get some sleep.”
Walt and John guffawed, and the conversation moved on to more conventional topics. The sun rose over the treetops, glistening on the water, and warming our skin as it warmed the air around us. The bird song had been slowly ramping up, and now that the sun was up birds were starting to flit over the water and in the tall grasses looking for their breakfast.
The golden rays glowed on four different shades of bear fur. What I wouldn’t give to have a picture of the four of us standing there soaking in the sun.
Walt, short and stout with thick arms and legs, and a tight paunch of a stomach. His body hair and beard alike were the pure white of a polar bear, as soft and white as his undies. The sunlight glistened his thick fur, warming it with yellow highlights.
John, with his reddish brown, curly pelt and beer keg of a belly. His hair picked up a burnished copper glow as the sun basked on his skin, like a tabby cat basking in the light of a summer meadow.
Russ’ golden curls covered the most powerful “dad bod” of the group, a strong looking man, with thick slabs of muscle hidden by a decent layer of body fat. I could hardly keep my eyes off the gentle portly curves of his beer belly. Pound for pound it was the equal of the keg John boasted. Russ’ fur was stunning in the dawning light. Already lustrous blond with drifts of snow, in the sun it glowed like honey and molten gold. You could curl up on his chest and wrap yourself in a quilt of golden sunlight.
My hair, including my chest, stomach, and pubic area, is light brown and wavy, with touches of blond in my beard. My legs and arms have a decent layer of light blond fur that is not always obvious since it is so light. The sunlight shone brightly in the blond, and tinged the brown with reddish highlights, similar to John’s.
If we made this a daily routine, I just might muster up the courage to suggest a photo, to be kept in confidence amongst ourselves.
After getting dressed, we had breakfast and got our camp site settled, then spent the day hiking around the area. Russ and I hung together most of the time, and I really enjoyed getting to know him and opening up. We had a late picnic lunch on the other side of the lake at a clearing with a picnic table. When John had finished, he stood behind me and started giving me a shoulder massage. I groaned and set down my sandwich – backrubs make me melt into a puddle. I leaned forward on my elbows and reveled in his strong hands kneading my muscles, sore from sleeping on the ground and hiking.
As he worked down lower Russ looked over and joked “watch out, if you go on like that you might cause a reaction you’re not expecting.” I reddened at his oblique reference to last night.
“Maybe that’s what I’m going for,” John quipped back.
Walt joined in, “young horny kid like that, it probably wouldn’t take much. He doesn’t get all the attention we do at home.”
“True,” John answered. “But I’m sure he gives himself all the attention he needs.” With this comment he dug gently into my ribs to cause a bit of a squirm, then continued, kneading my lower back with his thumbs. “So, Artie, when was the last time you masturbated? Any risk my ministrations are going to cause an accident?”
“Come on, John,” Russ came to my rescue, “let the kid be, don’t embarrass him.”
John raised his hands in innocence, “All right, I’m just making sure I don’t cause any unwanted orgasms,” Walt chortled at this. “We’re all men here, after all,” John continued. “We all masturbate from time to time, I’m sure. Heaven knows with a week away from my wife I’ll probably beat off once or twice while we’re here.”
“Not in our tent, you won’t,” Walt cut in. “Jenny and I had sex the night before we left, so I’ll be good for the week. What about it, Artie? When was the last time our only single man shot his load?”
I was loving all this talk of sex from bearish men I admired, and wanted to keep it going, but not focused on me. I was embarrassed to speak up with men who were well experienced with sex, and me still a virgin. At least I still considered myself a virgin, not counting the recent hand jobs and blow job I had experienced. I certainly wasn’t going to admit to what happened last night.
“I jerked off the night before we left.” I avoided looking at Russ, hoping he would resist the temptation to contradict me.
Russ admitted it had been several weeks since he had coupled with his wife. And he hadn’t had the house to himself enough to feel comfortable jerking off. “I like to have plenty of time and not have to worry about interruptions. I don’t want anyone walking in on me while I’m cumming.”
This led to a great conversation while we hiked back, about times when they had been caught or nearly caught pleasuring themselves, and a few stories about kids walking in on date night activities. I was going to have to remember these for future fantasy use. I did not share my experience getting caught by John, although he did look at me mischievously. I gave him a stern glare and he just winked and kept silent.
Instead, it was Russ who spoke up with a story about me. “I saw Artie in the shower a few weeks ago with a good boner going on.” This made me blush hotly, as he shared the details at length, how it stayed good and erect the whole time I was washing my hair, and hadn’t even softened while I was drying off and getting dressed. It was odd hearing him relate this story, realizing how much he had noticed.
“You mean you let him get dressed with his dick still hard?” John asked. “I would have made him go take care of it in the shower before finishing up. Poor guy can’t be put away like that without being taken care of.”
“Oh, I’m sure he took care of it as soon as he got back to his room,” Russ said. “I guess seeing me in my full glory has that effect on the young and restless,” he gave me a playful slap on the butt as we walked along the path. But thankfully he kept his revelations at that, and didn’t go into last night’s story.
That night at bedtime I got into the sleeping bag first, naked again, and just as erect as I had been the night before. The sleeping bag was thick enough that it wasn’t obviously tented, so I stayed on my back while waiting for him to get in. Russ was in another pair of boxer briefs, these ones robin’s egg blue. I noticed he was a bit hunched over, trying to hide the fact that he was sporting a boner himself.
As I mentioned before there wasn’t a lot of extra room in the sleeping bag, making getting in without contact impossible, and his hard member brushed my right shoulder as he slid himself down, then again against my hip as he adjusted his position, facing me. He pulled his hips back, apologizing, and getting pretty red himself.
“No apologies needed,” I assured him. “I’ll admit I’m in the same state myself.”
“Well, what do you expect, sleeping naked? All that hair, brushing against all that fabric every time you turn over…” he reached his hand over and brushed his fingers through my chest hair to demonstrate. “Now, I don’t want you to have to toss and turn half the night again, waiting for release, do you?”
“I guess not,” I said, blushing again to hear him talk about it. “Maybe I should go take care of it outside.”
“Nonsense,” he said, “it’s too cold out for that tonight.” He continued to brush his hand over my chest, my breathing getting deeper and heavier with the titillation. I looked over at him and he was smiling gently, again in a fatherly way. He kept his hand moving over my chest, letting his fingers gently brush over each of my nipples, which was the most obviously sensual thing he had done so far.
“Now you just relax,” he said, moving his hand down over the peak of my stomach once or twice. After a bit he let his hand wander further down, tracing my waistline with his fingers, then back up to brush my nipples briefly again.
I had been completely unprepared for this, and could feel an impending orgasm building quickly. He moved his hand back down to my waist, spreading his fingers and brushing the skin there. He curled his fingers and tickled the indentation between my hip and my genitals and that set me off immediately. I arched my back, lifting my bottom off the floor slightly, and for the second time in two nights my semen flowed out over Russ’ arm. He continued to tickle both of those areas to the right and left of my genitals as the orgasm subsided and I relaxed back down with a few big sighs. I looked back over at Russ with a slightly embarrassed smile.
“Sorry about the mess, again.”
“No apologies needed,” he smiled.
He reached down like he had the night before and felt my softening penis, rolling it with his fingers, then rolling each of my testicles around in my scrotum. He took a little more time fondling them. It was a delicious feeling of gentle comfort as he moved them around with his big hand and thick fingers.
“Feels like you’re ready for sleep again now.” He carefully arranged my penis back down on top of my scrotum and moved his hand up to wipe it gently on my stomach hair.
I was surprised at how tender and non-sexual it had felt to have him touching and rearranging my genitals, settling me back down for sleep in a paternal way. Emboldened, I reached over with my right hand to feel the head of his erection pushing his underwear out in a steep tent.
“How about you?” I asked. “Are you going to be able to sleep like that?”
It was his turn to blush now, and he smiled apologetically, pulling his hips back again, “Oh no, I’ll sleep fine. You just turn on over and get some sleep yourself.” He gently rolled me over to face away from him, then pulled himself up to spoon with me again.
I pushed myself back into him and raised my arm, allowing him to drape his arm over my side, his hand resting on my stomach just over my belly button. I lowered my arm to rest on top of his. His chest and stomach fur felt soft and warm against my back, and I could feel the fabric of his underwear against my bottom again, the soft head of his erection pressing gently against the underside of my crack. I wasn’t as confident as he was that I would be able to get to sleep, but I did.
I drifted off for a while, then half woke to the sensation of Russ flexing his hips slightly behind me. I kept my breathing even so as not to let on that I had woken up. Russ was breathing deep and hard, with his mouth open to remain quiet. His arm was still wrapped around me, but his hand was balled up in a fist. My own arm was draped over his, my open hand on top of his forearm.
He pressed his hips forward, his erection straining behind the fabric of his underwear, pressed up under the curve of my rear end. It stayed in that position for several seconds, then I felt a gentle pulsing from the head of his penis as he ejaculated into his underwear.
He kept as still as he could during his orgasm, but I felt his stomach clench once or twice right at the end. His breathing settled and I felt his body relax behind me. His arm lay more heavily over my side, and I felt his fist open, his fingers uncurl and lay gently over my belly button again. He stayed pressed up against me as his penis slowly softened until I could no longer feel it pressing against me. As the underwear started to pull away, I could feel the wetness of his semen which had soaked through, and the wetness left behind on my buttocks was chilly in comparison to the warmth that had been there before.
With a big post-orgasm sigh Russ lifted his arm gently from my stomach and pulled it back, rolling himself over as quietly as he could to face away from me. I took advantage of his movements to readjust myself covertly – my own newly erect penis was pulling at the hair where my semen from earlier had dried. I lay there half awake, reveling in the remembered feeling of Russ’s covert ejaculation. Eventually my flag pole was back down to half mast, and I turned over and spooned up behind Russ, pressing my now soft penis against his backside in return, which is how I finally drifted off to sleep.
— Day 3 —
When I woke the next morning we were in the exact same position, so we must have both slept very well. Russ was breathing the slow, even breaths of a deep sleep. It wasn’t long laying like that before my morning wood grew to full mast with the added arousal from spooning with Russ. I let myself stay close up to Russ’ back so that my erection was pressed well into his underwear, hard enough that I could feel the valley created by the crease of his buttocks. It was erotic for me to think of allowing him to wake up like this and feel the evidence of my arousal behind him. It reminded me of washing my hair in the shower and letting him get a good look at my erection weeks ago.
I let my left arm drift upward from where it lay down along his side, and my hand brushed his stomach hair all the way up to his chest, where my thumb found his left nipple just under where his left elbow was bent up in front of him. It was smooth, with a small, soft nub in the center. I brushed it a few times lightly, until I felt him stir and take a deep breath in waking. His chest flinched slightly, probably involuntarily when he noticed my hand on his nipple. I felt the nub dimple and grow hard under my thumb. We lay still for a few minutes.
“Are you awake?” Russ asked quietly, barely more than a whisper, hoping not to wake me if I were asleep.
“Mm-hmm,” I acknowledged. Tentatively I brushed his nipple again with my thumb. He flinched and lifted his arm, taking my hand and moving it off his chest, down to his stomach. He let it rest there, his hand on top of mine. My penis had tensed reflexively when he took my hand.
“It’s a good thing I’m wearing underwear, at least,” he said, “or you’d be giving Beth something to be jealous about.”
“Why?” I quipped, “Does she like sticking things up your bum?”
“HAH!” Russ barked, “Good one.” He flipped himself over to face me and got up on one elbow. “So, did you sleep a little better last night?”
“Like a baby. You?”
“Eventually,” he said, getting a little pink, averting his eyes. I decided not to let on that I had been awake when he got off last night. He looked like he wanted to say more, but stayed silent. We listened to the early morning sounds of the woods, crickets and a few birds, John and Walt rustling about outside making coffee on the camp stove, talking quietly and occasionally laughing.
Finally Russ said “Sounds like John’s got the coffee brewing, I’m going to go enjoy another sunrise.”
Russ crawled out of the sleeping bag and I followed him. He stayed on his knees and spread his arms in a big stretch and yawn. I checked his underwear to see if it was still wet from last night, but it had dried enough that you couldn’t see it. The fabric looked wrinkled though, having been wet and then drying while being worn. He stood and turned away from me, and I watched him put his hand into the front of his underwear, readjusting himself, probably freeing his penis from the hair that had been stuck together with semen. I got up and followed him out, naked, into another finely dawning morning.
John handed out mugs of coffee at the picnic table and we all doctored our own up with cream and sugar, except Walt who left his black. I still felt awkward being the only one there completely naked, but everyone was acting naturally, so I pretended to be at ease.
We ambled down to the shore like bears through a thickening mist. The entire lake was covered in a blanket of wooly fog reaching halfway up to the tops of the trees, like a bowl half filled with dry ice. It thinned at the shores and sent sluggish tendrils into the woods, then drew them back to the slowly roiling basin. When we got to the shore the thick white mists reached up to our waists, sometimes rolling upward to envelop chest and shoulders, then receding when a soft breeze blew back toward the lake, baring our legs down to our ankles. I imagined the fog tickling up over our legs, up to our chests and back down again. It was almost real enough to feel, and it kept my morning wood going strong. I noticed the other three all still sported theirs as well.
The sky was brightening and the sun, poking through the leaves across the lake, started to burn away the fog. We watched and sipped our coffee languidly as it thinned to wisps curling over the waters. By the time the sun was above the tree tops the lake was completely clear and still, a deep blue mirroring the bright blue of the sky. We stayed there till the sun had warmed our skins through, then one by one made our way back to start breakfast.
I found it was actually a disappointment to cover myself back up with clothes again. Walt and I both got dressed before sitting around the fire to eat, but Russ and John stayed in their skivvies. It was a delectable breakfast treat to watch the two of them going about their routines in their underwear. As they walked their penises could be clearly seen brushing against the thin fabric, rolling around over their substantial testicles. John scratched his balls without any thought to who was watching, while Russ generally turned away before adjusting himself, unless he thought no one was looking. I was always looking.
Russ sat to eat his breakfast in a camp chair across the fire from me, looking for all the world like he was naked with the plate in his lap, and his thick thighs coming together so there was no underwear visible between them. John sat sideways at the corner of the picnic bench with his plate on the table, but facing sideways towards us, his knees spread wide and his bare feet together, their soles touching. It gave a delicious view of his sausage and eggs, spilling out over the corner of the bench. I could see the exact position of his whole package through the fabric, his balls filling the space between his thighs, and his penis, thick but soft, pulled up and laying sideways across them, the bulges on the underside of his glans clearly visible.
Eventually everyone finished their breakfast and cleaned up. Walt and I finished our coffee while Russ and John went back to their tents to put clothes on.
There were two old canoes at the camp site, and we spent the morning paddling up the long way to the north end of the lake. It was a deep lake with a river inlet and outlet, safe for drinking, so we filled our water bottles out in the middle, and dipped our hats in the water to cool our heads when we got too hot.
There was a small, low island at the far end, out of sight of our campsite, slanting up out of the water like a half submerged table with a drop-off on the north end. It was covered in short grass, deep green and mixed with moss, as soft as a golf course’s fairway. The large mossy patches felt almost like a close-cut green. It was surrounded on three sides by shallows with a sandy bed, golden with sunny ripples and warm as bathwater. The grass followed the gentle slope up to the north, where there was a four foot cliff. The water there was deep and cold, ideal for cannon balls and shallow dives.
We ate the picnic we had packed in a cooler with a few beers, and then stripped and cooled off with a swim. We had brought wash cloths and biodegradable soap, and we all bathed on one side of the island where the water was warmest, then ran together, covered in soap suds to jump hooting and yelping off the cliff into the deep cold water. Then it was a race to swim back to the warm water on the other side where we wallowed in the shallows, letting the water bob us around like furry tub toys, half in the water and half out.
After a while we moved up onto the soft mossy slope to air dry in the sun. John was on the far left side, if you were looking up from the water. Next to him lay Walt, then me. Russ was on the far right. Our conversation slowed as we all daydreamed and watched the occasional puffy cloud go by, alternately dozing and sipping what was left of our beers.
We were on a decent slope with our heads upwards, and I had my hands behind my head, raised up so I could keep an eye on the bears laid out to either side of me. Farthest away to my right, I saw John’s penis starting to point upwards and expected him to roll over onto his stomach, but he let it rise up slowly, uncovered. Walt saw it too and made a crack about his hardwood growing tall in the sunlight. John just laughed and brought his hands up to brush over his chest and stomach, saying it was nice letting his forest get some sun. Russ reached over and patted my stomach, saying “See Artie, you’re not the only who struggles to stay soft,” which made by penis twitch and start to rise up too.
Walt looked down at mine and said “It doesn’t take much for the kid to get excited,” as my penis grew to full erection before he finished his sentence.
This open discussion of each other’s members was a new experience for me and I was loving hearing these men discuss each other’s arousals as we all lay on our backs. Walt and Russ were now growing their own erections to match John’s and mine. I raised myself on my elbows, not caring if I looked curious. I knew this was an opportunity I would seldom get to ogle three naked and aroused men – and what men they were!
John and I both had erections that pointed towards our bellies as we lay on our backs, both at about a 45-degree angle, although when I was up on my elbows it pointed almost straight to the sky. Russ had raised his hands up to interlace behind his head, reclining straight out, yet his penis pointed straight to the sky as well. It was just a little shorter than John and mine, but it was the thickest of the four of us, with a large, dark, velvety glans. John, Russ and I were all circumcised, but Walt still had a foreskin.
Walt boasted the longest penis of the group, and it was almost as wide as Russ’. It looked even bigger on him because he was the smallest of all of us, short and stocky like a dwarf. His manhood rose thick, dark peach colored, out of his pure white hair. It seemed full grown, but not fully hard like the rest of ours. It dipped and waved with his heart beat, the base starting straight up but bowing slightly toward his knees like a fishing pole with a slight tug on it. The foreskin was thin and tight around the glans, the tip of which glistened dark pink and slightly wet.
Walt saw me staring and said “What’s the matter, haven’t you ever seen a cock with a hoodie?”
I admitted I hadn’t.
“What you have is a woody with a hoodie,” quipped John, leaning up on his elbow to watch. “Why don’t you peel the foreskin back for him so he can get the full view?”
“That sounds like your job,” Walt quipped back, “always manipulating other guy’s genitals.”
“Sorry, I’m on vacation here, you can all manipulate your own genitals this week.”
To my surprise, Walt reached up to hold the base of his penis between thumb and middle finger, and pushed down into his crotch, tightening the skin and pulling the foreskin down to expose most of his glans, which glistened in the sunlight since it had not dried off like the rest of him. With his other hand’s thumb and index finger he pushed the rest of the foreskin down to pop his glans out into full view. He kept hold of the base and moved his other hand away, giving me a full length view of his penis and glans, still bowing a little to the left or right under its own weight.
Surprising myself with my own boldness, I asked “Is it always a little soft like that, or does it ever get totally hard?”
Walt huffed, “When I was your age it got as stiff as yours, and just as quickly, but it takes a little stimulation to get it totally hard these days, and I’m not putting on a show for you guys, so don’t get any ideas.”
“Come on now,” John cajoled, “let the boy see that Daddies can get just as hard as young men.”
“Like I said, knock yourself out, you’re the nurse.” He made it sound like a dare, waving his rubbery manhood back and forth in the air.
I gaped, hoping beyond hope that John would take him up on that. But John just looked up at me and grinned mischievously. “Go ahead Artie, you asked the question, I think you should try to find the answer.”
As if in consent, Walt let go of himself, allowing his penis to settle back into its semi-rigid arc, the head pointing back down towards his feet. Bringing his arms up and lacing his hands behind his head he left himself in a fully exposed and vulnerable position. His eyes were straight ahead, staring up at the sky, not looking at me, like he was ignoring me and what I might do. I heard Russ raise himself up to my left and turn to get a good view himself.
I scooted down to get lined up better with the object of my curiosity, and to give myself time to process what exactly I was doing. What was I thinking? I couldn’t play with this guy’s dick, with two other guys watching, all three of them straight. This was the gayest thing I had ever considered actually doing, though I had fantasized about much more, even with these particular men (well, to be honest, especially with these particular men). I half sat up and bent my right leg to tuck under me, so I would have both hands free.
Rather than go straight for his genitals, I ran my right hand up over Walt’s stomach to his soft white chest fur and down again, stopping where his stomach curved down again before reaching his groin. I did this a few times, adding in a brush over his nearest nipple. Then I let my right hand rest below his belly button and put my left hand on his closest knee, brushing upward over his thigh, feeling the white fur there, not as thick as his pubic and chest hair. I stopped short of his groin again. He cleared his throat and coughed, not as comfortable, maybe, as he was making himself out to be with all this attention.
My right hand made small back and forth brushes over his belly, and my left moved to hover over his pubic area, just under his penis. I lightly brushed around in the hair covering his balls, without actually touching any of the skin there, but the proximity of my fingers to his scrotum and penis made him suck in breath sharply. I widened the arcs of my right hand so that I was brushing into his pubic hair above his penis as well. Then I tickled a little deeper with my left hand’s fingers, until they were playing lightly over skin of his scrotum, slowly increasing pressure until I was shifting his testicles around too. I ran just my index finger lightly and slowly up the underside of his penis, from the base to the bunched up skin of his foreskin tucked around the base of his glans. I noticed his stomach was rising and falling more deeply under my right hand as he was starting really to be aroused.
I pushed my finger around the area of loose skin on the underside of his penis. This is the most erogenous spot of my body, and I wondered if it was the same for other men. Walt did seem to be enjoying it, his mouth was open and taking in deep breaths of air, his eyes glazed over and half lidded. I gently palpated his penis’ underbelly with two fingers, feeling the sponginess of the urethra.
I used all my fingers of my right hand to bring the foreskin back up over the head of Walt’s penis, pinching the tip together over the meatus to fully cover the head, but when I let go it slid back open and just the tip pushed out again, the thin foreskin stretched snugly around the slick head. I pushed it back down again to pop past the thick base of the glans and bunch up around the end of the shaft again. The head must have expanded making it harder to pop back. I pulled the foreskin back up over the head and popped it back down a few more times, noting with a thrill that it was almost like jerking Walt off. I noticed his eyes had completely closed and his fingers were curled loosely into fists behind his head.
The eroticism of this situation was driving me mad, the heat in my loins building as much from playing with Walt’s penis as from playing with my own. I felt close to an orgasm myself. If I brought Walt to an orgasm I was certain I would shoot right along with him, without even touching myself.
My right hand reached up to brush his nipple a few times, then make big circles around the thick fur covering his belly. I used my left hand’s thumb and index finger to grasp the base of his penis and press down into his groin like I had seen him do. I saw that the penis was in fact completely stiff now, and there was a bead of pre cum pearling up above the meatus. Leaving my left hand holding the base and pointing his penis straight to the sky, I dipped my right index finger in the pearl of pre cum and used the tips of my fingers to spread it around his head, squeezing gently and rubbing around the velvety skin of his exposed glans.
Walt’s stomach clenched and his eyes shot open. “Okay, okay, that’s enough,” he said huskily, and reached down to grasp my right hand and pull it away from his penis. My left hand stayed holding it upright, straight as an arrow and throbbing with his heart beat. More pre-cum had started to bead up at the meatus again.
John reached over laughing and used his fingers to rub around the glans again, fending off Walt’s right hand with his other. “Come on, you can’t stop half-way through, its not good for you. Nurse’s orders.”
Walt was growling and struggling while I kept his penis pinned down, and with a mighty heave he grunted and sat up, swatting my hand away, then turning toward John and grappling two handed with him. His low and compact center of gravity gave him the initial advantage and he toppled John over onto his back, rolling on top of him, straddling his stomach and pinning his arms up next to his head.
The situation made John laugh harder, so Walt kept him easily pinned there, bouncing up and down slightly with John’s laughter. John’s erection was bobbing up and down as he laughed, pointing right up at Walt where he perched on John’s stomach.
“Slide on down half a foot,” John wheezed, “and you can take the ride Julie likes so much.”
“AACK!” Walt spat, letting go with his right hand and delivering a solid punch to John’s chest. John took advantage like a good wrestler and wrapped the arm up, rolling Walt off him. They rolled over each other a few times down the slope, where John knelt, grappling Walt around the midriff and flipping him back with a powerful heave over his own body to flop into the shallow water with a splash. John followed him in and they continued to wrestle on their knees, rolling and dunking each other under, both of them laughing and hooting now. I saw as they lifted each other half out of the water to splash back in that they had both become mostly flaccid now, the eroticism forgotten in their wrestling struggles.
Russ and I had gotten up to watch the festivities, and I had followed down to the edge of the water when I felt Russ grasp me from behind around the waist. He lifted me high off my feet before I realized it, and I flailed around trying to stay upright. He turned me horizontally as he stumbled a few steps out into deeper water and tossed me several feet out as easily as if I were a little kid.
I came back up spluttering and regained my feet, splashing back to Russ who stood in a wide stance, arms spread and ready for me. I plowed into him but he stood me right up, his arms under mine so I couldn’t get any grip on him. He lifted me again, this time belly to belly, and having several inches on me was able to keep my feet off the ground as he ambled into deeper water. I could feel my erection, which had never deflated, poking hard into his lower stomach with each step. He grinned broadly, but I was too busy fighting to get a grip on him to blush.
I was surprised by how strong Russ was. He may have looked fat, but he was solid muscle underneath, and with very little effort he turned and lifted me even higher, arching his back so my weight was fully on top of him. Holding me pinned to him he dropped backwards into the water, pulling me under with a mighty splash.
Popping back out of the water I continued to try to get hold of Russ to dunk him, but he batted my attempts away easily, laughing. John and Walt had tired themselves out and were standing ankle deep in the water watching, letting the water drip off them. They were making suggestions to both of us, most of them ribald and bawdy.
I tried to stay where the water was waist deep because I still had an erection that was only getting harder with all this physical contact, but Russ herded me back out into shallower water, arms wide and knees bent, ready to grapple me if I got too close. I tried going low and got a good grip on his right knee, lifting his foot out of the water and getting him off balance, but he was able to grab onto my back and right himself, wrapping me up with one arm in a bent over position as his leg slipped out of my grasp. I was trapped against his left side, bent at the waist, with my head behind him at his butt level, my own butt facing Walt and John.
“Nice view!” hooted Walt, and Russ brought his right hand over to pat my butt lightly for them. Then he rubbed the hand back and forth over both butt cheeks, and splayed his fingers out wide, with his middle finger resting on my crack. I yelped in surprise as he slid the hand downward, pressing with his middle finger into the crack, coming perilously close to my sphincter.
“Do it!” John goaded him on, but at the last second he turned, keeping his left arm around my back and reaching his right arm down between my legs, lifting me sideways out of the water. My momentum kept me aloft as he flipped his left arm underneath my upper body, keeping his right arm between my legs and curling it around my knee. I hung there, horizontally, facing away from him and displayed fully naked and very aroused for Walt and John, who started clapping like they had just seen a good show. I was completely helpless, just trying to keep from falling out of his grasp and onto my head. Russ carried me up to John and Walt, who were laughing at my plight.
“The kid still has a stiffy!” laughed Walt.
“I think you should help him out with that,” John suggested, “it would only be fair.”
Walt reached forward as suggested and wrapped his hand around my hard, wet penis, giving it a few pulls. I tried to bat his hands away, but John blocked my attempts, grabbing both my wrists and stepping to one side, pulling my arms high over my head. Russ shifted me upwards to get a better grip with both arms, which raised me higher.
I was held up spread out for Walt, my arms held over my head by John. Russ had my right leg wrapped up, my left leg dangled down below me. I looked down to see my penis sticking straight out of my matted wet hair at Walt’s chest level.
In shock I watched as Walt lowered his head and sucked just the head of my penis between his lips a few times, a sensation that sent a jolt through my whole body, making me grunt and then gasp, sucking in a deep astonished breath. Then he bobbed his whole head down and sucked the full length of my penis into his mouth. He bobbed on it two or three times while I squirmed, trying to escape.
This had taken Russ by surprise as much as me, it seemed, and he barked out “Hey, wait a minute, guys,” pulling me back and popping my penis back out of Walt’s mouth.
“All right, all right,” Walt said, laughing, “I’m just returning the favor.”
He reached up with his fingers and rubbed the tip of my penis around a few times, same as I had been doing to him. Russ held me there to let him continue. John still had my arms pulled over my head, and I tried to hold still while Walt continued kneading my glans with his right hand, reaching up to tickle my balls with the left hand. He rolled my wet scrotum around between his fingers, then moved his hand back between my legs and found my crack with his fingers. He copied what Russ had done with his middle finger, but with my left leg dangling downward my cheeks were wide open, and his middle finger slid right across my anus. He rubbed it around in a few little circles, then put pressure on it like he was trying to push in. I clenched up and lifted my leg up to trap his hand, trying to escape the curious finger. He pulled his hand back out and started playing with my balls again, cupping them in his fingers while he rubbed all around my scrotum with his thumb. All the while he kept massaging the head of my penis with the thumb and fingers of his right hand.
“Guys, stop,” I begged, “you’re gonna make me cum!”
My voice was urgent. John let go of my arms, and Russ lowered my legs down, holding my body while I found my feet and stood, but Walt kept at the head of my penis with his hand as long as he could, even as I hunched over and backed into the water to escape him. I realized even as he backed off that he had gotten me too close.
I stayed hunched over, but I couldn’t stop myself. I ejaculated, resting my hands on my thighs as semen squirted down into the clear water. It was a bit of a ruined orgasm, so it was over pretty quickly, leaving me feeling spent but not completely satisfied.
My face was bright red, and I turned away from them, avoiding their gazes, to face the opposite shore. I could hear Russ laying into Walt sternly, and some splashes as he pushed him back up to the shore. John was just chuckling at the whole scene. I stood back up and squeezed my pelvic muscles, reaching down with my hand to squeeze the last few drops of semen out into the lake. Then I bent over and rinsed my hands, bringing a little water up to rinse my genitals off as well.
—–
I stayed there, gazing out over the lake, waiting for my penis to deflate and wishing I had my clothes so I could cover myself up before turning to face those men again. All I could think of was them watching me, hunched over and ejaculating into the lake. Walt laughing, John beaming, Russ shocked and concerned, his hands up and facing out like he was trying to take back the whole scene.
It was odd: I had cum fantasizing about each of them countless times before, but when the scene had played out in front of the men themselves I felt at least as much shame as I had enjoyment. I had to admit I had loved the feeling of being held up on display in the midst of playful wrestling, and when Walt had unexpectedly sucked my penis in… guaranteed I would still be playing that over in my mind while playing with myself years from now. I took a big, confused breath and sighed, trying to clear my head.
I heard some slow, quiet splashing as someone approached tentatively from the shore. Probably Russ coming to check I was all right, I thought, or maybe John coming to gloat. I hung my head and folded my arms across my chest protectively.
It was Russ.
He approached, but stayed behind me and off to the side, giving me a little privacy by limiting his angle of sight.
“You okay…?” he asked quietly, his voice low.
I nodded.
“I brought you these.” He reached his hand out, and I saw he had brought my underwear, a light blue pair of briefs.
I almost teared up as I took them. Somehow he knew that a little token of privacy was the one thing I really wanted right then. I spread them out with two hands, then hesitated, wondering how I was going to get them on without getting them wet, or falling.
Again, Russ somehow knew what I was thinking, and stepped closer to me, also turning away to maintain the dignity he was offering me. I placed a hand on his back to steady myself, lifted one foot out of the water and shook it a little to get some of the water off, then carefully aimed it through the leg hole. I pulled it up to my knee, then switched legs, shaking that foot and putting it through the hole. I took my hand off Russ’ back and bent to pull the underwear up, happy to be covered again, my genitals small and limp and packed away.
“Thanks,” I said, turning back to the island, where John and Walt were mostly dressed again. Their t-shirts showed darker damp spots where their hair hadn’t had a chance to dry off again. John was avoiding my eyes, and Walt came over awkwardly, still barefoot, as Russ and I were coming back onto the grass.
He looked at Russ, then quickly at me before dropping his gaze to my feet. Russ must have really laid into the guys, I thought gratefully.
“I’m sorry, Artie,” he said. “That was … inappropriate. I should have stopped when you asked me to.”
” ‘s okay,” I mumbled, my eyes down too.
“John and I are going to had back to camp, you gonna be all right?”
I looked up and nodded, trying a brave smile. He turned back and went to help John load their canoe back up, and I went up to the slope where the rest of my clothes were. I sat and took a swig of my beer, then started putting my socks on. Russ sat beside me.
I could tell he was troubled, staring down at the ground between his outstretched legs and not speaking. I noted that our roles had reversed a little, as I was now getting dressed while he still sat naked. He stayed there while I finished getting my shorts and t-shirt on, then he finally spoke again when I sat down to tie my shoes.
“I feel really bad about what happened,” he said.
I started to say it was no big deal, but he stopped me.
“No, there was no excuse for it. I got carried away. I was just messing around when I picked you up and didn’t plan on what happened. But I have to be honest that when I looked down and saw you erect after wrestling with me, I got a little excited. I may have subconsciously hoped for something to happen. I shouldn’t have let them touch you while I had you wrapped up and helpless, that was just not right. I’ll admit when John had your hands pulled up over your head and Walt was…”
He stopped, cleared his throat. “Well, you know, I let my own arousal excite me into acting inappropriately, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s OK, I’ll be fine,” I said, and I did mean it, I was getting over the embarrassment now that I was dressed and we were talking normally.
“I’d understand if you didn’t want to stay for the rest of the trip. Do you want me to drive you home?”
“No!” I said, and he looked up with a half smile.
“You sure?”
I nodded.
“OK,” he nodded, reaching over to get his own clothes back on.
I appreciated his subtle gesture of staying naked for the discussion, letting me be in the more dignified position, remaining open and uncovered himself for the honest discussion of his actions and feelings. I still felt things might be awkward with Walt and John, but I felt Russ and I were mended and in the clear. I was actually looking forward to climbing back into the sleeping bag next to him and feeling totally at ease with it.
We stayed and enjoyed the rest of our beers, not saying much, reclining on the grass as the sun dipped down to touch the tree tops. Then we hopped back in the canoe and paddled out.
When we got back to the camp John and Walt had supper almost ready, and they were both very solicitous to me. Walt tried all he could to put me at ease. John even came over and apologized to me for his part, though I could see he was trying not to smile. I considered it as good as I would get from him.
John and Walt were also deferent to Russ. It seemed they had gained some respect for him sticking up for me, and even for upbraiding them. The shift was subtle, but I sensed that Russ had somehow started to take over as the alpha male. It made me see him in a new light as well.
We ate and talked about comfortable things and the atmosphere cleared as the evening wore on. Walt and John offered to do the clean up, so Russ and I stayed by the fire.
I had made a pot of coffee after supper, so we sipped from our mugs and read the books we had brought along. John and Walt had retired to their tent and I had closed my book and was just sipping coffee and gazing into the fire.
Russ had been staring into the fire for a while himself, his book open in one hand but forgotten. I looked up when he cleared his throat, but he was still staring into the fire. He cleared his throat again, looking indecisive, like he was struggling to organize his thoughts. I decided to help him, in case he was looking for a place to start.
“What are you thinking?” I prompted. “I don’t think you’ve turned a page in your book for the last five minutes.”
He looked down at it like he had forgotten he was holding it, then sighed and put a bookmark in it, setting it in the pocket of his camp chair.
“I was just trying to muster the courage to ask you something. Probably silly. No, definitely silly.”
I waited a beat. “Well?”
“Would it be too weird if… or would you be mad if…” he faded off.
“Probably not,” I replied. He huffed and rolled his eyes.
“Probably not,” I repeated, “because I can’t imagine you doing anything that would make me mad.”
“I know, its not that really…”
“Well, spit it out,” I prompted again.
“I was just wondering if it would turn you off if I slept… well… in the altogether too.” He picked his book up again, fiddling with the pages, avoiding looking across the fire at me.
“Of course not,” I laughed, shocked that this was what he had been considering, and far from turned off.
“It’s just, well, I wanted to ask yesterday, but I chickened out. Then I was planning to ask tonight. But after what happened out on the lake, I didn’t want to make it any more awkward.”
“It won’t be awkward at all for me,” I said. “It might even be less awkward, if I’m not the only one wearing nothing.”
“Well, good then,” he responded, sounding relieved.
I opened my book back up, and he opened his, and we read until the embers were too low and it was getting chilly. Russ poured water on the embers and I turned off the lantern, then we retired to the tent.
I took a detour to relieve myself in the woods. When I got into the tent Russ was already folding his clothes and putting them in his bag, still wearing his undershorts and socks. I started undressing myself, but Russ kept fiddling with things and standing awkwardly, not wanting to take the final plunge into nakedness.
“Well, I guess it’s my turn to say it,” I smiled.
“Say what?” Russ asked.
I smiled. “Go ahead son, get nekkid.”
So he did.
(to be continued…)