On another day hike into the mountains a tall, lean, muscular, and very attractive, heavily bearded bear named Randy had come along. Randy was gifted with not just a strong libido but a profound, almost animal understanding of male sexuality, a little about which our group learned somewhat open-mouthedly during a truth-or-dare discussion in the car as we drove. The frequency and depth to which Randy had indulged and explored gay male sex over the years was remarkable and… (well, I’m sorry, but Randy will just have to write his own book).
I had first met Randy two years previously on a canoe trip and we’d had dinner later, though that date didn’t lead to sex or any further contact. But one of my friends had met Randy in the meantime and invited him also along on this hike. I was delighted, however, as I thought Randy was pretty hot.
So now as the group hiked through the forest, I let myself fall to the rear of the line, squatting to tie my shoe as a ruse to hang back near Randy. The other hikers had gone ahead around a bend in the trail and I had just stood up wondering how I should come on to Randy when he suddenly tackled me to the ground, his arms and legs firmly wrapped around me, his bearded mouth pressed against mine, fallen leaves flying everywhere. We laid there for a moment in each other’s arms, snickering and not daring to move lest we didn’t hear the others coming back to look for us.
But when no one came back, Randy and I got to our feet and started making out. I had been wanting to play with Randy for a long time and didn’t waste any time fumbling his shirt unbuttoned, slowly working my fingers through the hair on his chest, my mouth and beard all over his, my dick swelling in my jeans. I unbuckled Randy’s pants and tugged them down around his knees, then reached for his cock which was also swelling and already bigger than most I had seen.
Then from some distance down the trail, someone yelled my name.
We froze, silently smiling at each other. They yelled it again and this time I yelled back OK! We waited a minute but (to my relief) no one came walking back to find us. I guessed that they figured out I was anything but lost (my friends are wonderful).
In the meantime, Randy had got my pants open and had leaned down, firmly holding me by the balls and working my dick with his mouth, his saliva feeling warm all over me. After only moment of this I started to get close to cumming. I gently pushed his mouth away and took my turn with his cock in my mouth, rolling my tongue all around his large, wet, fleshy cockhead, getting him fully hard.
After working his cockhead a bit longer, I stood up and backed Randy a few steps up against a tree thinking I could use my belt to get his hands tied up to the low overhead branch, and then maybe play with spanking his helpless, protesting, deliciously naked ass.
But before I could try anything, Randy leaned down again and resumed on my dick. I abandoned my bondage plot and let him continue until I was so worked up, I couldn’t wait any longer to jerk off. Randy and I stood together, jerking our cocks until we had left little puddles of pearly white cum on the forest floor (where, according to a friend who worked in forestry, orchids would grow).
We leaned against each other for a moment, then pulled our clothes back together and hiked off after the others. We got to where I thought they might be waiting, but they had gone on and Randy and I were alone. We continued along the trail until we came to a fork where it might not have been clear which way to go. But fortunately, someone had left an arrow made of sticks on the ground. We assumed it was for us and we hiked gaily forward the way it pointed.
While we hiked, I wanted more affection and cuddling from Randy. We eventually came out of the woods onto a paved road and followed that back another mile or so to the small picnic area where we left the cars. The sun went down behind the hills and the afternoon began to fade and became rather chilly while we waited for the others to return. I wasn’t sure how we could have passed them on the trail, unless they took a detour.
Randy and I tried to keep warm by briskly walking around or by huddling together, which I liked better, on a bench in an empty picnic shelter. We might have tried a leaves-and-sticks fire in one of the picnic grills, but neither of us had matches or a lighter.
The others finally showed up, unsuccessfully demanding the full story of where we had been other than “not lost” as we drove back to DC.
Randy and I never dated but we saw each other at parties and remained friendly for years.