The back rub invitation was becoming my standard and generally successful ploy to get a man naked and between my legs. It permitted the sacred object of my carnal desire to remain passive yet enjoy himself while I did “all the work,” earning me a few gratitude points and also buying me time to find out more about his body to map out the rest of the conquest. (It’s really not as complicated as that makes it sound, as I’ve found that most men once beyond “hello” let their cock start doing the doing; I just wanted to write it like that.)
By now I’d gotten a lot more comfortable doing gay things “in public” such as going on group trips as part of the Adventuring group or when friends organized a fabulous movie outing. One long weekend in the fall, friends rented a rustic cabin in the hills of southern Pennsylvania, and I went.
I fell into immediate lust with Jake, a tall, dark-haired, and hairy guy. Jake and I, both being six-foot or taller, preferred a bed without a foot board if we were to sleep comfortably. As soon as we arrived, I had claimed one of the two beds on the cabin main floor, the only beds with no foot board, and was quite pleased when Jake claimed the other one.
Cabin trips are fun, with everyone helping to prepare meals, going on day hikes, and lounging around the fireplace in the evening, with drinks and dinner. Jake’s and my beds were in the cabin’s common room, opposite the fireplace, and served as group seats during the evening.
Gradually everyone drifted off to their rooms or the sleeping loft upstairs, leaving me alone with Jake and the glow of the dying fire. The room was still very warm from the fire (supplemented by baseboard heaters; it wasn’t that rustic) and we were “forced” to sleep in our undershorts on top of the covers.
Jake was an unusually impressive physical specimen, about six-foot-four, and handsome in a chiseled kind of way. His prominent jaw, deep eyes, and massive chest made him look (in retrospect!) like he’d been drawn by Tom of Finland. In addition, I had also glimpsed Jake changing his clothes and was preoccupied by the memory of his dick, big and fleshy, hanging a considerable part of the way to his knees.
The first night I somehow fell asleep right away in the bed next to Jake and the dying fire. However, second night by the fire was equally warm and Jake and I again laid on our backs in our underwear, outside the covers, me trying to keep a little conversation going. I finally got around to asking him if he’d like a back rub. I really couldn’t tell whether he was interested but he didn’t actually say no, so I rolled him onto his stomach, straddled his ass, and started kneading away.
Remembering Wes’ massage, I worked on more than just Jake’s back, also working over his buttocks, legs, and feet. I was just preparing to finish and lay my chest down on Jake’s back (to recapture some of the energy, of course) when I heard someone coming down the stairs from the loft overhead. I pressed pause and sat up.
Henry, another guy in our group, had padded down from his bed in the loft to pee and on his return, saw me sitting on the end of the bed and came over. I whispered with Henry for a few minutes, too self-conscious to resume my efforts with Jake’s body. But I started to worry Henry might just decide to whisper with me until sunrise, so I faked a yawn and said I was going back to sleep. I don’t know what, if anything, Henry figured out, but he whispered good night and padded back up the stairs, leaving me alone once again with my prospect.
Meanwhile, Jake had not dozed off but had rolled over on to his back and was still awake as I laid back down on my bed. Elated, I got up to nudge my bed a foot over next to his, then laid back down on my side, my arm across his chest, gently feeling his nipple.
I rolled a little closer onto him and began to kiss him lightly and he kissed me back but, I noticed, rather lamely. I wondered (Jesus Christ, dude!) if his lack of enthusiasm meant he really didn’t want to have anything to do with me. But if he wasn’t going to start complaining I wasn’t going to stop enjoying gently touching his body.
As I lay against his warm body, I suddenly smelled something familiar. Very familiar but which I didn’t immediately place. But then, wait a second… I felt for his dick and as I reached down, my forearm smooshed into something wet on his belly. His dick, poking out of his shorts, was big and hard and suddenly I realized my arm was in a puddle.
Jake had cum, silently and without him or me touching his dick. Indeed, besides the backrub, I had hardly touched him at all. I mentioned my surprise but he just shrugged and said that sometimes it happens. I’d never known a man to just orgasm without any obvious stimulation on his penis, and I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to feel flattered or not.
The next day, our last before the group headed home, Jake was cordial but didn’t show any particular interest in being more than acquaintances despite a few overtures from me. I was a little disappointed but decided not to worry about it.
We shared many of the same friends and I ran into Jake for many years at various parties. He was always but only cordial and looked just as sculptural.