That previous September a few friends and I went car-camping in southern Pennsylvania. One morning I left camp to pick up a few oops-I-forgot groceries, mainly beer, in a nearby small town. As I stood in the check-out line, I noticed a handsome, bearded fellow with piercing eyes waiting in a different line and caught his attention. Handsome and I exchanged smiles several times, but he got through his check-out line first and didn’t wait around to say hello.
I promptly forgot about it and drove out of the parking lot, down a side street back toward the highway. But then I spotted Handsome walking a little farther down the block. Feeling adventurous, I drove closer, parked, and jumped out just as he went into a small store front, then reappeared as I approached. He lugged a small table and a chair out to the sidewalk, put a few things on the table, and sat down. I thought this was somewhat unusual and decided to see what was going on.
As I walked up to his table, he smiled and observed I was the guy in the grocery store, and we started chatting. He spoke with a gentle country drawl, introducing himself as Scott. He seemed to be about my age and had an easy-going personality and infectious smile that made his eyes sparkle. Scott explained the day was a town-wide celebration of some historic mining industries the town was founded on, and he was setting up a few fun things outside, just be part of the festivities.
Among other things, Scott had set out a box of chalk for kids passing by to make sidewalk drawings. While we were talking, I busied myself, on my knees on the sidewalk, drawing rainbows and happy bears. (I’m a fair chalk artist, did I say?)
Then Scott and I took turns lying in the street like murder victims, our arms and legs at crazy angles, tracing each other to make chalk body outlines but drawing our sneakers as stiletto pumps. Scott didn’t seem to mind that I pushed my hand in deeply to trace the contours of his crotch very, very carefully, you know, just to get all the firm details.
I finally remembered I ought to be getting back to camp. But Scott turned out to be such a fun person, I invited him to bring his sleeping bag and come out to our camp site for the night, as I had extra room in my tent. I spent the rest of the weekend with a hopeful semi-boner but Scott couldn’t get away from his day job (I later found out) and never showed.
But I stayed in touch with Scott, by email and once visiting for coffee when I was passing through, and came to like him very much. That November I invited him again to join me (and about eight other guys), this time on another rustic fall cabin weekend in the Pennsylvania hills, not far from where he lived.
Scott arrived at the cabin late at night after he got off work. We’d mostly all gone to bed, but he somehow found me upstairs alone in the two small loft beds that I had pushed together (the beds weren’t really all that small, imagine). He quietly undressed and climbed naked into bed with me, gently waking me up. I was really happy he made it, and we kissed and cuddled for a while, then jerked each other off and fell asleep. He turned out to be really nice to sleep with, lying right up against me or with his arm draped over me.
We didn’t have sex again that weekend though I enjoyed his visit and my friends did, too, welcoming Scott’s agreeable, happy self into the group. He and I never became lovers but we were instantly “old friends” which is better in many ways; we still are. Meeting Scott was a real win.