A Long Night in the Tent

"Go ahead son, get nekkid," I repeated his phrase that had thrilled me two nights before, emulating his deep voice. "Don't be modest on my account."

Russ chuckled at my impersonation, and proceeded to comply. He bent and pulled his underwear down to his ankles, straightened and stepped out of them. Then he balanced alternately on each foot, pulling off his socks. I kept undressing while keeping a close eye on the way his thick penis and full scrotum swung back and forth as he did this. When he was done, he stood there and watched me as I finished undressing. This of course aroused me, and my penis started to fill and lift its head up, hovering slightly in front of my balls by the time I had put my clothes down and stood back up, facing Russ. I snuck a peek below his paunch and saw his penis was thick and full, but not yet erect -- another larger sock full of sand. We both turned and bent to get into the bag simultaneously, blocking each other, doing a little dance as each of us moved out of the way again, like people trying to get out of each others' way in a hallway. Finally, Russ stepped back and motioned with both hands like an usher for me to get in first.

Russ was fully erect now, and trying to hunch over to hide it. He knelt and slid himself in beside me. This time I had stayed facing the center of the bag, and got a good view of his erection up close, bouncing slightly as he slid his hips in past my face and into the bag. I wasn't shy about staring at his whole body as it passed by, and his face was bright red when he got all the way in. I grinned and waited for him to make eye contact, which he avoided for a few seconds, pretending to adjust himself in the bag. Then finally we were facing each other, up on our elbows, our bodies maybe a foot or two apart. I imagined our two hard penises pointing straight at each other, and wondered if their tips were very close to touching.

"Well," I said, "how do you propose we go about getting to sleep tonight, knowing we both have the same problem right now?"

Russ was still bright red, and breathing a little heavily, whether with arousal or the effort of sliding into the bag I couldn't tell. He licked his lips, hesitating.

"Well, if you're all right with it," he finally said, "why don't you lie back..."

I could tell he had meant to say more, but couldn't bring himself to it. I turned onto my back and raised my arms up, lacing my fingers behind my head. I saw Russ hesitating again, then he reached over with his right hand and slid it between the sleeping bag and my chest, brushing over the hair, up and down first over my right chest, continuing to my left, brushing each nipple as it passed.

"You know," he said, pausing. "We've kind of been making a mess of the sleeping bag this trip. What do you think about doing this uncovered? We could unzip the bag and leave it open till we're finished."

"Sure," I agreed. I wasn't going to pass up a chance to see more of his nakedness.

This involved more turning and sliding around and all the incidental contact that involved. The sleeping bags had to be unzipped most of the way around to free us. I ended up kneeling when the job was done, with Russ standing. His erect penis was standing straight up too, as was mine. We were both breathing a little heavily.

"Do you mind if we put this back on?" Russ asked, reaching up to the lamp at the peak of the tent. "If its not too weird, I kind of want to see what's going on this time."

"Sure," I nodded, thrilled at the thought of being able see more as well.

He turned it on, and I lay back down on my back, now as free and exposed as we had been on the grassy island. I laced my hands behind my head on the pillow. Russ lowered himself to lay facing me on his side, up on one elbow with a pillow stuffed under his armpit for support. With his free hand he resumed his exploration of my chest and belly fur, his eyes wandering down to my feet and back, pausing at my full-blown erection.

I took a big breath in and out, trying to slow my rushing heart, thinking about what was happening here. The last two nights had happened so quickly it had hardly seemed sexual. Tonight was different. Russ was naked and aroused, and the way he was brushing my chest and nipples was more patient, like he was focused more on my thorough enjoyment this time, not just helping me get to sleep. He didn't want to rush through this. He brushed down and around my stomach a few times, then spent some more time with my nipples. Finally he moved down past my stomach, and brushed his fingers around the highly ticklish triangles to the right and left of my groin.

I flinched each time he reached that area, and he grinned. "Are you ticklish?"

"Sure am," I admitted, and flinched again in answer as he swirled his fingers around either side of my groin. I gasped and giggled, "You're gonna make me cum," I squeaked.

He half sat up then, bending one leg under himself and freeing up both his arms. "I kind of thought that was the point," he smiled down at me, letting my body back down from climax for a few moments. Then he began to explore my body for other ticklish spots. He went for the obvious first -- my armpits -- digging his fingers in and wiggling them downward to the fleshy sides of my chest. I burst out laughing, automatically freeing my arms from behind my head and wrapping up his hands under them.

"Shh-shh-shhhh..." he warned me, "Walt and John are going to hear you."

He wiggled his fingers into my skin again where his hands were trapped under my arms. I huffed out quieter giggles, starting to squirm and keeping his hands trapped. He stopped until I settled and lay still, breathing heavy. Then he gently slid his hands out from under my arms and moved them down to my wrists, gently guiding them back up to my head. I took his cue and laced my fingers behind my head again. I noted that my penis had softened a little with the distraction of tickling, dipping over slightly but still half erect. Just that thought got the blood flowing back into it, though, and I got to experience again the delicious feeling of a growing erection.

As it rose below, Russ placed his hands on the tips of my elbows, one on each side, and slowly drew them down the skin of the underside of my arms toward my armpits. I could feel the skin of his palms and fingertips. They were the heavily textured fingertips of someone who works with his hands, but not hard or heavily calloused. I had time to savor the gentle roughness, the perfect amount of manly texture, as he ran them slowly past my armpits down my flanks on either side. My whole body shivered and I felt a wave of goose bumps thrill across the entire surface of my skin. I closed my eyes and reveled in the ecstasy of his palms traveling all the way down the length of me until he had to turn and switch his hands to opposite sides, where he continued from the sides of my butt down the outside of my legs, until he cupped my feet. I opened my eyes again, worried he was going to tickle the soles of my feet, my ultimate weakness.

He may have sensed my fear, and looked up at me. "Are your feet ticklish?" he asked, a mischievous tone to his voice.

"Very."

He unwrapped his hands and gently placed the pads of his fingers under there, gently stroking them up and down from heel to toes and back again. It didn't tickle as there was no pressure, but the skin almost burned with the subtle friction, and I felt the burn all the way up in my loins. It reminded me of when John was polishing my penis' head when he had me tied up, when I couldn't tell if he was rubbing my penis or the soles of my feet. There must be some neural connection there, some hidden dermatome joining those two areas of sensitive skin in my mind. He continued to rub them like that, building up a heat with the growing friction. I tensed, and felt the fire growing in both places.

"You're gonna to make me cum," I gasped.

I had opened my mouth, and my breathing was deep and heavy as I tried not to cum immediately. He stopped again. My penis was tensed, hovering on the edge, and I felt the warmth start to flow, but I was able to hold it off, a small shot of pre-cum actually spurting weakly in a tiny arc onto the under-curve of my belly as I took deep calming breaths.

"Man, I've really got you right on the edge, haven't I?" He repositioned himself again, laying back beside me up on one elbow, his head right at the level of my waist, watching my hovering erection dance to the beat of my heart as I hovered on the long edge of an orgasm. I could actually feel each pulse like a tap inside the head of my penis -- tap, tap, a tiny finger at the tip of my phallus, tap, tap, tap.

When he sensed it was safe, he reached his hand over and stroked his fingers lightly all around my scrotum. The skin tingled, and I knew I was just about beyond my limit. He moved his fingers down below my ball sack to my perineum, and let them travel lightly around, up over my scrotum and around it, swirling around to stimulate the whole surface of that delicate pouch of loosely wrinkled skin. I could feel the sack pulling itself together, making the wrinkles smaller and more compact, pulling my testicles in close. He laid his whole hand over my family jewels, warming the skin again but not moving for maybe ten or fifteen seconds. The meaty weight of his hand there was pulling the skin of me penis tight, and it was pointing straight up out of the J-curve made by his thumb and forefinger, lewdly pulsing with each heart beat, fully engorged and fully ready to shoot if he were only to touch it, brush it, breath on it...

He held it there for another fifteen seconds. I was breathing in slow, deep, steady breaths, entranced, almost hypnotized, floating in the zone he had expertly drawn me into. My toes were half curled. My eyes half lidded. My elbows drawn back wide almost touching the ground. My abdominal muscles half tensed. My buttocks drawn together. My hips on the edge of pulsing.

He slid his hand up and wrapped his hand around the entire length of my penis. His hand was large enough to engulf the full length and girth comfortably. He pushed his fist down to the base, pushing into my pubis, and the tip of my penis just barely poked out beyond his thumb. The pressure pulled the skin of my erection tight.

He held my penis gently and loosely, and ran his hand up the length once, and back down once, holding the skin there tight again. And again.

He kept going, closing his fingers fractionally with each pump, adding the tiniest bit of friction each time. I reached my climax as he reached the base the fifth time. He sensed what was happening and stayed there, pulling the skin tight again. He held it firmly but gently as I started to shoot squirt after squirt out of his hand and over my chest and belly.

I allowed my hips to thrust with my ejaculation this time, pushing hard into his fist with each spurt. He chuckled, holding it still for me, watching me hump his fist until my orgasm was spent. My semen ran over his fingers, it flowed down the underside of my stomach and pooled above my groin, I started to feel little rivulets slowly sliding down my left and right hips to soak into the sleeping bag.

Russ kept his hand still, loosely gripping my penis after my last little shudder finished and I let out a big sigh. I brought my hands back down and interlaced my fingers across my lower chest, at the upper ledge of my belly. My penis was slowly softening in his hand, which was a strange feeling, one of trust and willing submission. He gently massaged the softening flesh between his fingers, and my whole body flinched as his fingers rubbed the glans. He stopped, and moved his hand down to my testicles, which rolled easily around in my loose scrotum as he massaged them for a few moments, my penis continuing to soften. I looked over at him and saw a gentle, proud, fatherly smile.

"Thank you," I said.

"Any time," he replied, and he said it matter-of-factly, without any sense of innuendo or expectation that there would be another time. Gently he rearranged my genitals, laying my penis down again over my scrotum, then wiped his fingers off on my stomach.

Rolling onto his back, he said "I'm not expecting you to do anything for me, by the way, that's not why I wanted to sleep naked."

"I know," I said, rolling over to face him, and raising myself up on one elbow, "thanks." I raised my left hand up to his chest anyway, which made him flinch. I looked down and saw his penis at full mast, confirming he was in no state to go to sleep yet.

"I can take care of that myself, if I need to," he said. "I'll be able to sleep fine."

"I know," I repeated, but kept my hand on his chest, brushing the hair there softly. He brought his hands up to interlace over his belly, creating a subtle barrier between his chest and his more private areas. I brushed back and forth to either side of his chest, then tried brushing one of his nipples again, which made him flinch and half raise his hands to stop me, but he put them back on the peak of his stomach and took a deep breath in and out to calm himself. I kept brushing mostly his chest fur, which was deep and soft and as sexy as I could have imagined. I used my fingers like a comb through the white carpet of his chest. I spread, then closed the fingers deep in the forest of fur. I lifted the hand off his chest slowly, pulling the hair up gently to stand on end, then curled my fingers and rolled them randomly around on his chest.

Russ licked his lips and kept them open -- his breathing was getting heavier, the rise and fall of his chest and stomach more pronounced. He was staring straight up at the ceiling of the tent with a far away look.

I reached down to his closer wrist and gently lifted it, saying "Why don't you get yourself comfortable, like I did," raising the wrist toward his head. He readjusted himself, raising his hands up, leaving them draped on the floor above his head, closing his eyes. I took advantage of the broad expanse of his newly exposed stomach and drifted down and around it with my hand, then back up to his chest. Going down again I let my hand drift from the underside of his stomach to his near hip, then traced my fingers all the way up his flank to his armpit. He flinched as I brushed around the ticklish skin there, but forced his arms to stay where they were, leaving himself exposed.

I ran the hand back down below his belly, and started circling my fingers around on either side of his groin as he had done to me. His breath was getting faster as I was getting closer to his genitals.

"I may not last much longer," he said, his voice husky, his eyes still closed.

But he did last a while longer, breathing deeply, his hips thrusting occasionally. He didn't even cum when I started playing with his scrotum and brushing my fingers up and down the underside of his penis, from the scrotum up to the glans and back. He finally came when I wrapped my whole hand around his penis, spreading some pre-cum around his head and pumping my fist up and down. This made him gasp and thrust his hips forward, up into my fist. I pumped one more time, sliding my fingers down to grasp the base of his erection and pulling the skin taught. He grunted loudly with each thrust of his hips as he ejaculated. I felt the fluid flowing through where my index finger lay against the urethra, each spurt a little slower until he slumped back down to the ground, spent and sighing in satisfaction.

Several lines of semen lay over the fur that covered the curve of his belly. The longest, from his second spurt, reached right up over the peak ending in the thick fur at the valley where his chest and belly met. The thick ropes of it were beaded up there, not soaking through to the skin. At the lower curve of his stomach, it flowed down to collect on the skin to either side of his pubic hair. I dipped a few fingers in and rubbed it around that smooth, soft area of skin that rarely saw the light of day. He sighed and moaned a little, lifting his head to see what I was doing.

I wrapped my hand back around his erect penis and held it the way he had held mine. He lay his head back on his pillow and gave another big sigh. His penis softened a little, then slowly deflated, shortening until it fit back neatly in my hand. I moved his flaccid penis around in my fingers, then lowered it onto his scrotum and rolled his testicles around under it. I rolled the soft head between my fingers and Russ gasped, then chuckled, speaking for the first time. "It really is pretty sensitive right after an orgasm, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I didn't even know that before..." I caught myself -- I had been about to say before John had made me squirm a few months ago.

"You mean before tonight?"

"No, I mean a few months ago, I accidentally found out one time."

Thankfully he let it pass without pressing further. "Yeah, it's kind of a cool feeling. For a bit at least, not for too long."

I was surprised to hear him talking so naturally and comfortably, while I still had my hand on his genitals. I searched for the head again, and rubbed it between my fingers, making Russ giggle again.

"Ooh man, see what I mean?" He reached down like he was going to grab me, but stopped, leaving my hand free. Sensing his implied consent, I rubbed it a little more, and he started squirming, laying his hand on my arm but not stopping me.

"Ooh, man, I've never had someone do that, oof!" he grunted. I stopped, and he dropped his hand back down.

"I mean," he continued, "you can keep going, but... hoof!" he grunted as I started up again. I sat halfway up, and moved my right hand to where his semen had pooled under the curve of his belly. I dipped my fingers and thumb in and spread more semen over his glans, moving my left hand down to hold his penis up for better access. The head was more engorged now with all this attention, and the penis itself was getting a little thicker. I rubbed the head around between my fingers, feeling the nubby texture of the head of his glans, contrasted to the smooth slick skin of the shaft. I slid them around in earnest, adding some pressure, generating some real friction and setting Russ to squirming helplessly, his hand back on my arm but not stopping me. He was giggling louder now, and his penis was almost hard again.

"It feels like you're getting ready for more," I said, but he couldn't answer, he was laughing, giggling, squirming, his eyes closed and tears leaking down the sides of his face.

"Oh man, oh man," he was gasping, between bursts of giggling. And then he was arching his back again.

He cried out loudly then, arching his back, his butt in the air: "Oh my.... Holy.... Aarrggh!" the last was almost a roar, and I felt several more squirts of semen spurting out between my fingers as he thrust his hips in time. His body thumped back down again, his stomach jiggling with the sudden flop back to the floor. I had stopped rubbing his overly sensitive glans during this second orgasm. I squeezed one more time now, bringing on the loudest yelp yet, his hand shooting up to grab my wrist.

"Enough, I yield!" he gasped, laughing again. "Phew!" He lay their, holding my wrist in his left hand. I let go of his penis with my other hand, and he let go of my wrist, letting me reach up to wipe my hands on his belly fur.

"That has never happened to me before," he gasped. "I didn't know I could cum twice in a row like that. Phew!" He lay staring at the ceiling for a while, recovering his breath, rubbing his hands from his chest down to his legs, stretching, his toes splayed out. I watched his penis slowly wilt back to its thick flaccid state as his breathing slowed and he took some deep, sighing breaths.

"Well, if I can't sleep after that, I don't know that I ever will." He chuckled, and looked over at me with a contented smile.