GAY EROTIC STORY
"Outdoor Sex"

Outdoor sex – nothing turns me on more. Cruising the city’s parks, ravines, and woods – hunting for horny guys who like sex under the trees, in the bushes, wherever – is my favourite weekend sport. During the past two summers, I’ve found several prime areas where gay men look for sex outdoors. I’ve given and had blowjobs, raunchy fucks, and sweaty sex standing knee-deep in water. On my bicycle, I can cover a lot of territory in a few hours. The rest stops along the paths, the secluded beaches on the lakeshore, and many wooded areas – they’re all on my route.

The number of men who enjoy public sex is amazing. Two weekends ago, I even scored with a cop who was “on patrol” along a riverbank. When I stopped to talk to him, he quickly made his cravings obvious. Five minutes later, hidden in a grove of trees, his pants were around his ankles, and I was on my knees, sucking his eager cock. I made it last as long as I could, until he was almost begging. And what a load! An hour later, I was still tasting his cum.

Last weekend, I returned there, hoping he’d be back, this time to fuck me. But I guess he had other duties. Oh well, maybe next time, I thought, continuing along the riverbank, scanning the bushes, hoping. Half a mile later, a narrow trail intersected. Curious, I followed it into a narrow gully. Above, the occasional deck showed among the trees, giving the owners seclusion. It was a hot day, so I stopped for a swig of water, resting against a large tree.

It was then I noticed someone at the railing of a deck just ahead of me. From what I could see, he was shirtless, and then, when he moved, I was pretty sure he was naked. So I decided to walk my bike along the path, so he’d notice me. And when I was just below his deck, I saw that he had wrapped a towel around his waist, but he was looking down at me.

“Does this trail go anywhere?” I called up.

“It’s a long stretch,” he replied. “If you can lift your bike up my path, the road out front is a lot easier.”

“Sounds good,” I said, hoisting the cross-bar to my shoulder and climbing the steps. By the time I got to the top, at the side of his deck, I was sweating buckets. “Hi,” I said. “My name’s Curtis.” Then I reached for my bottle of water. Nearly empty. “Any chance I could refill this?”

As I poured the last drops down my throat, I realized how good looking he was, with his dark beard and moustache. His hairy chest and trim abs only added appeal.
“No problem,” he said. “My name’s Eric.” And as I handed him the bottle, he added, “How about a beer?”

“With pleasure,” I replied, admiring his muscular legs when he walked into the house. I leaned the bike against a railing post, removed my tank-top and wiped the sweat from my face and neck, and stepped up to the deck.

“Here you go, Curtis,” he said when he returned with the beer and my water bottle. “Make yourself comfortable.”

He lay back on a lounge recliner, and I sat in a nearby chair.

“This is a great place,” I said, raising my beer in a toast, “and thanks for this.”

“Here’s to pleasure,” Eric said, tilting his bottle up. In the same moment, he lifted one knee, completely exposing his crotch. The sight was tantalizing. A long cock hung down between his thighs. And while I gazed at it, he slowly raised his other knee and spread his thighs.

“Especially when pleasure is within easy reach.” I said, not lifting my eyes.

“I’d call it an invitation,” he replied, loosening the towel at his waist.

“Mind if I accept?” I asked, kneeling beside his legs and then running my tongue along the inside of his thighs. His sweat tasted good, and I ventured further, until my lips reached his hairy testicles. He gripped the back of my head when I sucked one of his nuts into my mouth. And when I took them both, he put his beer down and spread his thighs wide open. He was loving it. So was I. And I licked under them, as far as I could reach, then slurped his testicles back into my mouth, one at a time, rolling each with my tongue and then stretching the sac.

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