The Woods and the Rain

The woods I occasionally cruise are in a light industrial section of town, where warehouses and tiny manufactories occupy streets down which most residents never venture. There’s a large retail center on one side of the little forest, so that occasionally cars travel down the street in its direction. Only rarely will one stop. When it does, the lone occupant will scurry from his vehicle and into the canopy of trees, where he’ll quickly vanish from sight. The woods are a quiet, overlooked corner of my hometown where the only people likely to be walking the trails are men looking for sex. If there are cars parked on its outskirts, there’s pretty much a guarantee to be action among the trees.

I’d been to the woods earlier last week, the same day I’d visited Cunt in the morning—that afternoon I found myself in the neighborhood and had dropped by, parked, and unzipped my pants to feed my dick to an older cocksucker I’d encountered near the rearmost trail. His mouth hadn’t proved that great, however, so when I spotted a dog walker in the distance, I used the intruder as an excuse to zip up and get away.

Friday, though, I had a date. SexInPublic, the guy I met last month for my ‘Restroom Lunch’ entry, had written asking me to fuck and load his hole. He offered me a choice of places to play: the woods, which were close to both of us, an office building with a public restroom in a downtown building, or the dressing room of Macy’s at a local mall. I picked the woods, and named a time to meet.

When I pulled down the street where the trails begin, I recognized the guy’s BMW immediately, from the last time. I pulled next to it, parked, locked my domestic car, and began walking through the trees. Friday happened to be one of those wild autumn Michigan days in which the weather was so changeable and abrupt that it was impossible to dress for. When I’d left the house ten minutes before, it had been warmish and sunny; when I walked into the woods, it was chilly, dark, overcast, and a light rain was starting to fall.

Precipitation didn’t drive away the cruisers, however. I could spy the silhouettes of two of them among the trees as I passed beneath the gate. One looked like the short, lightly athletic figure of my married dad buddy. Another was a taller man, broad-shouldered, bearish. He had ginger-colored hair and a goatee, wore dark, round Harry Potter wire glasses, and had a face that seemed flat, as if someone had arranged its features on the single plane of wall and breathed life into it. He wasn’t a bad-looking guy by any means—quite the contrary. But I had no measure of him yet.

I walked along the trails casually, hands stuck deep in my pockets. My dick was hard and hanging down the right leg of my pants. The goateed guy paused by a bench, and tapped away at the screen of his cell phone. “How’s it going?” I said in a low voice, as I passed. We exchanged nods. When I turned my head to look back at him, he had let his hand drop to his crotch. His fingertips lightly toyed with the bulge there.

Oh yeah. He was cruising, all right.

Deeper into the trees I plunged. The light drizzle had turned into a heavier rain by now. The trees blocked much of it, but my face and hair were definitely getting moist. I followed the trails to the point where they split, at the back of the woods where few people ventured. My cocksucking friend had taken the trail to the right, then stepped down into a hollow protected by several broad-trunked oaks. I followed.

Once down in the little cavity, I spied two other men among the trees. One was an older guy in his sixties, expensively-dressed and fit for his age; the other was a kid one-third his age and a little more, who wore dark, oversized jeans and a black hoodie like mine. The kid was getting up from his knees when I nodded at them. He immediately ambled over, his eyes locked with mine. The red-headed bear ducked beneath the low-hanging branches to join the four of us.

I was confident enough about all these guys that I didn’t hesitate for any preliminaries. Even in the quietest of public spots, opportunity is sometimes fleeting. I wasn’t there to linger. I unzipped my pants and pulled out my hard dick. I hadn’t bothered to wear underwear or a belt—easy access is best in these situations. My public sex friend immediately dropped to his knees and began to suck me, while the other three men watched, mesmerized. The older man was still unzipped. He pulled out his soft penis and started trying to stroke it to hardness. My bear buddy rubbed his groin with the heel of his hand, as he kept an eye on the trail in both directions. The young guy, however, couldn’t take his eyes off my dick. His hands were plunged deep in the pockets of his hoodie as his eyes bulged.

SexInPublic made a show of slobbering over my meat and groaning as he deep-throated it. I let my eyes close to slits as my head tilted back with pleasure. Raindrops splatted on my forehead and stung my eyes, but I didn’t really care. I let myself get wetted, above and below.

The bear pulled out his dick. It was average-sized, but glistening at the tip. I maneuvered SexInPublic’s head off my meat and onto the bear’s. My buddy accepted the change without question, but rose to his feet and dropped his pants at the switch. Like me, he wore no underwear. From his jacked he pulled a tube of lube that he squeezed onto his fingertips. Both his hands parted his cheeks as his fingers dug at his hole. When he’d finished lubing himself, he pointed his ass at me.

I didn’t need a second invitation. I rubbed some spit on my dick to help with the lubrication, and pushed inside. My cocksucking buddy grunted hard as I went in. I didn’t meet with much resistance, though, so I assumed his gargled cries of agony were mostly for show. The bear pulled his dick out of SexInPublic’s mouth and yanked down his pants, exposing his pale, hairy butt cheeks for me. He bent over to give me full access.

I could have pulled out and fucked him right there, and it was obvious he wanted me to. I’d promised my load to my married dad buddy, though. I had to content myself with fingering the hole and wetting it with spit while both men bent over before me. The older guy was hard now—but not large, I could tell.

The young guy seemed amazed at the two bottoms lining up in front of me. He took a tentative step forward, then drew nearer still, until he was so close that I could smell the scent of some cheap aftershave rising from his neck. His left hand reached out and gripped the base of my cock. His right reached under and rubbed my balls.

It was that gesture that pushed me over. Without warning I began unloading in my married friend’s hole. My breath sounded ragged and harsh as it erupted from my lungs. I wasn’t buried very deeply in my buddy’s ass; almost immediately half the sperm gushed out of his hole and dropped onto the leaves between his legs. The young man squeezing my dick pulled it out and used his thumb on the underside of the shaft to milk out the last remaining string of sticky stuff.

Then I was done. I wanted more, but the group was too large to risk lingering. I stuffed my still-slick dick into my jeans, buttoned up, nodded at the crew, and bounced up to the trail and continued walking the long route around. The wind had picked up, making my wet face sting a little. From time to time I felt like I was being pelted by minuscule pellets of sleet. I pulled up my hood, plunged my hands into my pockets, and continued tramping through the mud and leaves.

When I circled around and reached the entrance where I’d come in, SexInPublic had managed to rearrange himself and and return by the shorter route we’d taken in. Our eyes locked as he crossed my path. He grinned. I grinned back. I thought he might say something, but no. We exited the woods without a word, walked to our cars, and waved at each other as we drove back to our respective homes and families.

It wasn’t until I started the car’s ignition and let the heat run that I realized how wet and cold I really was. My hair and face were soaked; my hoodie could’ve been wrung for a cup of water. I hadn’t noticed, during the fuck, exactly how drenched I’d gotten.

A little rain was worth it.

The site where SexInPublic and I originally met allows cruisers to leave remarks on ‘report cards’ on each other’s profiles after they’ve hooked up. When I got home, my married buddy had remarked on mine:

You r so fucking hot Mr Steed--anytime you want to fuck--feed and breed me again--just say the word. Nice big cock and a big load--I can still feel you pumping it deep inside me--well actually its slowing leaking out--damn hot. Loved our audience. Another time I hope--and soon….

There’ll be another time. I can guarantee that.