Riverside Lust

Summer evening in rural Northern California, the evening after our afternoon's adventures down near the river.

*****

We had a good leisurely dinner in the cabin, the four of us, everyone talking all over the map. My groin had that warm suffusing glow that comes after a good climax, in this case two of them that afternoon. Lenny's voice was animated, he told story after story, his eyes gleaming whenever anything erotic was involved.

Otter and Rothgard listened attentively when Lenny talked, half smiles on their faces, I couldn't tell if they were believing everything Lenny said but the stories were mostly true.

I wondered what it was like for these hippie castaways to be dinner companions for a couple old codger wank-off buddies like Lenny and I. Otter's green eyes met Rothgard's frequently, and when they laughed over some Lenny witticism, Rothgard's long tied-back dreadlocks shook.

I am sure they considered Lenny an absolutely unreconstructed pervert, which of course he was, but it's possible they saw him in a different light. The food was good and satisfying, the wine had loosened his lips, he was playing emperor and enjoying it all. His broad German-ancestry face and dark eyes swivelled about the table, making sure we got all the details of his exploits over the years, boasts of the places his cock had visited, the pleasure given it by others, its enduring prowess.

I was just along for the ride, an old friend, and I mostly just listened and watched the others. I think I glimpsed Otter give Rothgard's prick a furtive rub under the table once, but I may be mistaken.

But after the brandy and dessert, we all stood up, tall slender Rothgard with his arm around Otter, a full head shorter.

We retired earlier than otherwise might have been the case, all of us fatigued from our afternoon exertions and then the copious food and drink. It had been quite the day. I wished River was still around, and still couldn't quite believe my luck in coupling outdoors with her earlier.

Otter and Rothgard said they were too beat to head back to their commune, and the truth was Rothgard, almost unsteady on his feet, had had quite a bit to drink. Lenny lent them a double sleeping bag and pad and they settled themselves outside on the porch of his summer cabin.

I found my way to the guest room, glad to find a little quiet place to sort out the day's events in my head, Lenny to his big room in front. By ten we were all asleep, or at least all the lights were off.

I woke after only a few restless hours of sleep. The moon was up and casting a fair blue light around the room. My mind was racing away, reliving all the sexual adventures we had had that day, tailing River and witnessing my old bud get his rocks off with a couple wenches a third his age.

Watching him dump a good load of semen out on River's chest had been enthralling, the image of his cock pulsing, the white spermy ooze emerging from his prickhead, still a testament to his own potency.

I had to urinate and walked through the living room to get to the toilet. The moonlight coming through the windows was bright enough that I didn't need to turn on any lights. On the way back I stopped to look out the large back window, intrigued by the moonlight streaming through the forest surrounding the cabin, and noticed Rothgard was up too.

He was standing on the edge of the porch, and pissing a great stream of urine out over the backyard. He'd had a pile to drink at dinner.

The geyser went on for some time. I made a mental note not to walk barefoot in the backyard tomorrow, but the sight was strangely alluring, and I moved to the side of the window to both see him a little better and be hidden a bit by the curtains in case he turned and looked back at the house.

He finally finished and flicked the head of his cock out to send the last drip away from the porch. He turned around and the moonlight illuminated his long wagging prick. He came back towards the sleeping bag, but Otter had apparently awakened with him.

As he stood there, she reached up and began to fondle the great snake. All I saw was her hands, a bit disembodied, as she reached up and stroked it.

With the stimulation Rothgard's dick went from long and skinny to long and hard, a dark curved outline against the background moonlight. Otter's fingers traced his shaft, caressed his prickhead, rubbing, coaxing it along.

And then she had raised herself up on her knees, and took his prick into her sweet little mouth. Mostly it was a silhouette view, I desperately wanted a little more light, but the movements of her head made it clear what she was doing. I held my breath, it looked so nice.

She slid her fingers up and down his shaft, Rothgard standing there with his hands on his hips. He reached down to fondle a nipple, and after a bit they they ended up back in their sleeping bag.

I didn't see much from then on, not as much as I wanted, but it was obvious enough when he had begun to hump her serious, the cover of the sleeping bag thrashing around over them.

Otter's little moans of pleasure increased as they went, very alluring actually, as he tailed her for quite awhile. I held my breath as she came.

"Ohh, ahh," she went, and then Rothgard's thrusts grew rapid and frantic and then they were still.

I lingered at the window after they finished, until I heard Rothgard's breath in sleep mode, long and sonorous. My penis had grown half-hard with the viewing, and I felt my now sensitive cockhead pressing against my boxers.

I turned back to my room. The light from underneath Lenny's door caught my eye, so it appeared that he was awake as well. I padded over and knocked softly. He opened, clean naked, his prick in a fairly erect condition, sticking out from under his belly.

"What's up?" he said.

"Just witnessed our guests fornicate out on the porch," I volunteered in a hushed voice. "More heard them than saw them, but it still was a nice little show."

Lenny smiled broadly. "Nice to be young, eh? He's got a good dick for poking, that's for sure. Don't think she minds, either."

I was looking at his penis, stiff, engorged, standing out straight in front of him. It looked nice. I swallowed hard.

On all the surveys I had filled out over the years, I had always ticked the box labelled "heterosexual." I once had been married, for over ten years in fact, and whenever I went to the beach, my eyes gravitated towards breasts moving around underneath bikini tops, or female ass-cheeks from behind while their owners strutted along the sand. Long silky hair, an intriguing feminine face, these all had gravitational attraction for me.

But there is something riveting about an erect penis. And here was the first one I had ever known, besides my own, nearly within reach of my hands. It looked beautiful.

He noted my gaze and paused.

"C'mon in, take a look at this," gesturing at his computer at the corner of his room. "You'll see why I'm hard."

We crossed his room to his desktop.

"I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. Figured I'd download the photostream from the last couple days, wanted to see how the lot came out. Take a look, some pretty good shots." He scrolled down and pulled up a photo on the monitor. "Recognize this?" he said with a leer.

"Looks like my scrotum all right." I squinted closely. "And that is River's pudenda around my prick."

Lenny couldn't have gotten his lens much closer, the image was huge on his big monitor.

"You were giving it to her pretty good," he said. "She's got a great crotch."

I quivered as I stared at the picture, that moment sure had been sweet.

Lenny scrolled through the photostream, including our previous afternoon shots with each of us photographing each other's cock, lots of erect penises with swollen veins, engorged cockheads, from all sorts of angles and focal points. Some of them, to say the truth, were pretty good shots, if you like erection pics. And I do.

We hadn't taken many full body shots of each other, perhaps unconsciously avoiding paunches and gray hair, they were mostly just close-up groins, balls, erections, and since you couldn't see the rest of our bodies, they could have come from folks a lot younger than us.

Lenny saw the expression on my face and laughed. Looking me straight in the eye, he reached out and began to stroke my penis through my night-time boxers.

"Not bad for a couple old coots, eh?" he said. "We each got ourselves two good climaxes this afternoon."

His fingers were insistent, running under my balls, gliding lightly over my cockhead through the smooth fabric. I swallowed hard and found my fingers reaching out and fondling his tool as well. Smooth shaft, pointy circumcised head, nice heavy balls. Just like I remembered them.

We spent a few minutes feeling each other, our hands gliding, fingers exploring, until Lenny let go and arched his eyebrows.

"Pull your knickers off and take a seat at the head of the bed maybe?" he asked.

We sat next to each other, our backs on the headboard, each of us fingering our own pricks, and Lenny started reminiscing.

"All those nights in the tent in my backyard? When we'd talk sex far into the night? We'd talk about which girls we wanted to fuck, and what we would do with them."

"And what they would do to us," I said wistfully. Lenny laughed at this.

"You had a better imagination than I," he said, "always called up a scene with some girl's shirt off and her lips over your cock."

"While you played with your tool," he added.

"But you always did better in real life," I returned. "I think when we were fourteen our cocks were hard about eighty percent of the time." Lenny laughed.

"You always came quick in our little circle jerk sessions," he commented. "And we worked so hard to try to stay erect, prolong the climax as long as possible."

"I get excited real easy. And your prick was always better," I said. "Lasted longer, made more sperm."

We had had lots of contests.

My memories of touching his penis for the first time were extraordinarily vivid. I remembered how my fingers trembled with excitement before contacting his smooth, stiff cock, which twitched with the first contact, and then how much fun it was to stroke Lenny to climax. The image of his sperm jetting forth that first time, all due to my own efforts, was seared in my mind.

"And you could come twice in an evening." I said this with envy, although that often meant more enjoyment for me, as well.

"Still can," he said evenly.

"Yeah, you came twice today already. That's plenty at our age."

"Well, so did you," he rejoined.

Lenny looked at me while he stroked his penis. It was standing straight up, its head reddish-purple, and pointed. There was challenge in his eye.

"Bet I can come twice again tonight," he said.

I knew better than to try to wager with him, but I still doubted that and told him so.

He looked at me hard. "Tell you what. Let's have you do me, just like the old days, then I will do you. And I will still be good for one more."

His eyes met mine. "You game?"

His cock was twitching with anticipation, sure looked nice. My own tool felt good in my hands too. I swallowed hard. I wanted to do this, but also didn't. How can you want two conflicting things at the same time?

Back as teenagers we were just plain horny, we couldn't help it. Now it was different. I should just be satisfied that my penis had had its workout with a couple barely legal girls only just that afternoon.

But then again my whole visit here had been absolutely sex-saturated. I would not have predicted that my penis would have been this aroused, this long, exercised so thoroughly with this trip out to stay with my old friend.

Lenny apparently wasn't going to wait for me to make up my mind. He got to his knees and pushed his cock towards my face. Its head was right in front of me and I was going to have to turn my head away if I didn't want it hitting me square on.

Instead I found myself opening my mouth and closing my eyes. I felt the smooth pointy head of his prick penetrate my lips, and my tongue began to slide along its firm surface.

For me, having a penis in my mouth is an extraordinary adventure, not quite like anything else. I wish I had experienced this more often in my life. I could feel how hard he was, the swollen pressure on the skin of his cock, and I knew that by sliding my lips along his shaft and tonguing his cockhead, I was in a situation that could produce astonishing pleasure for my old friend.

I was also trying not to think how much enjoyment I would get out of sucking him as well.

Eyes still closed, I reached under his ballsack and held his nuts in my hand. They were way up in their sack, all firm and moving about restlessly. I knew that if I wanted, I could have Lenny climaxing fairly quickly, he was that aroused.

At the same time, I wanted my own pleasure with his penis to continue. I sucked him for a few minutes, luxuriating in the movement his cock made in my mouth, feeling the tension and firmness of his member as it slid around.

Then I turned him over onto his back, and had him spread his legs wide.

His penis was laid out full and erect on his belly. That big tube that runs along the center-line of his shaft and handles the sperm launch was taut, very prominent in his penis especially, and felt nice as my fingers traced its outline, stem to stern. My fingers pressed here and there, feeling his veins, the sharp ridge under his circumcised head, that sweet inverted "V" up near his piss-slit.

I let go of it and just looked at it. It twitched on its own, its head glistening after I had smeared my saliva around it. So engorged, so hard, it held itself parallel to his torso, so stiff that the head hovered about an inch above his belly, ready for business. Lenny looked down at it with the pride-smile of ownership and squeezed his asscheeks, making it bob. We laughed.

I marvelled at its shape, and ran my fingers lightly along his cockhead. As I remembered, it had taken on a reddish-purple color when aroused. Its pointy head started to ooze clear fluid as I caressed it with my fingertips, and I carefully smeared the drop of lubrication around his cockhead. I wagged his prick back and forth, played with it in all sorts of ways, pulled it up and let it snap back down on his torso, never tiring of its shape, its movement, its exquisite hardness.

"Lick my balls," Lenny finally said in a low urgent voice. "Take them in your mouth."

We had discovered this very early on in our teenaged experiments, just how much pleasure could be had from stimulating your testicles while your rod stayed hard. I knew very well what Lenny liked. Or used to like, anyway.

Lenny's balls were handsome firm ones. They were the kind that drew up into one tight mass in their sack, his hairy wrinkled scrotum holding them like shrink-wrap, all tight and restrained.

I licked them. I sucked them. I nursed at them. I ran my fingers around his scrotum, fingernails scraping the inside of his thighs. When I felt his hips squirm when I hit a good spot I was pleased. My own cock was way too hard, almost uncomfortable.

I licked his perineum, revelling in the pressure it provided against my tongue. The thick smell of his balls filled my nose, my tongue tasting his salty groin sweat.

I spent a good amount of time mouthing his testicles, but when his hip movements had become so frequent and it was apparent he was having a hard time restraining them, I moved alongside the big body of my old friend and took his cockhead into my mouth again.

Slowly I went up and down. The veins on his prickshaft were pronounced, I could see them clearly when my eyes were open, and feel them when my tongue went wetly along the surface of his shaft. I was pleased to feel his balls moving around in the grip of my left hand. I massaged his perineum, taking just his prickhead in my mouth for some rapid up and down action.

Never doing the same thing for very long, changing tempo, always something new, I sucked and licked until I felt his legs were board stiff, his cockhead just a bit larger and firmer than even just a moment before.

Lips moving quickly, sensing his mounting excitement, I went up and down his shaft, sloppy, eager and wetly, and with a strangled cry Lenny bucked his hips and I felt the first spurt of sperm erupt in my mouth. Pulse, pulse, pulse his cock went - warm thick fluid kept coming. Eyes closed, my hand clenching his balls, I swallowed and continued to move my lips over his penis until he was done.

I milked the last bit out of him, savoring the ooze, and nursed at the head of his prick for another few minutes. His cockhead got smaller fairly quickly, then the pressure on his shaft slowly dropped, but I liked the way his cockhead felt as my lips and tongue rolled over it.

Finally he pulled away, unable to stand any more contact, however gentle. My heart was racing, my cock twitching with the sympathetic pleasure I had produced for my friend.

I didn't want to open my eyes. I wasn't sure what sort of expression Lenny was going to have on his face. I couldn't quite get over how excited I was myself from my lingual attentions to him.

But when I did pull off he was smiling.

"Nice work," he uttered in a low voice. "Felt good."

He stood up, his prick dangling, soft and wet. He gave me a look.

"Give me a sec in the washroom," he said. "Then it's your turn." He looked at my very hard penis.

"Lie down," he urged, "I'll be right back."

I laid myself out full length on the bed. Probably a bed that had gotten a pile of action since Lenny had moved in to this rustic California country house.

My brain whirled, replaying the sensations of sucking my old friend. What was he planning for me? What sorts of things might he do?

When Lenny returned, I saw he had cleaned and dried his crotch. He eyed my body laid out.

"You've stayed in good shape," he finally said, kneeling between my legs, a hand running along my bunchy thighs.

He ran his fingers along my cock. I started at the first touch. He used both hands, alternating, fingers pulling on my cockhead, caressing very gently along the ridge of my prickhead. He pulled on my balls, pressed my perineum, stroked my shaft. I was struck by how soft his fingers felt.

I closed my eyes and just focused on the nerve endings going off in my cock.

I didn't last long. He was pretty good, surprisingly gentle. He never used his mouth, never licked me anywhere, but his fingers kept moving. Sweet fingertips traced the edge of my cockhead. He squeezed my shaft, pulled up on my cockhead, pressed, pulled, made my prick anticipate every touch. It was divine.

I liked how he attended to my balls, held them, rolled them around in his fingers. I was getting close, my hips squirming around when I felt him leave off touching me completely.

I opened my eyes to see Lenny rummaging in a bedside drawer and finally pulling out a little bullet shaped vibrator., about the length of a finger. He had an evil look on his face.

"Close your eyes, big guy, I am going to give you a good time."

I complied and felt his fingers start to stroke my penis again. The vibrator got switched on, a low hum, and I felt its rounded end pushing up against my anus.

Fingers still working my raging cockhead, he pushed the vibrator around the edges of my anus, kept pressing it at the entrance until I finally felt it penetrate.

Fingers working quickly now on my penis, he pushed the vibrator up further, me feeling like I was going to expel a hard mass of excrement. He rotated it around, touching some very sensitive areas, fingers flying up and down my cock now, and I felt my balls contract.

My hips went off, I found myself yelling out, "Fuck, yes!" and spurt after spurt of semen got launched up on my belly. I opened my eyes at the end, watching the last bits of sperm come oozing out, Lenny working the vibrator like a madman, fingers of his other hand on my shaft, avoiding my semen.