Saturday, Ryan hiked up to The Ridge. Perched on the unpopular side of a mountain, The Ridge itself was about 40 feet of a broken stone ledge scar that dropped off about 20 feet. The Ledge was solid rock and scattered with boulders from higher elevations. There were grassy sections sloping on the sides, a tangle of paths through trees and bushes at the back and, hidden in those trees, a small creek ran down a small valley. Some guys had brilliantly dug a pool around the creek and built a dam, creating a place for a few guys to soak and the water didn't get stagnant.
The view from The Ledge was unremarkable, aside from the expanse of trees and brush below. The more interesting sights were on the other sides of the mountain, granting this area privacy from casual hikers. The angle of the mountain, and the trees growing on the sides, stopped anyone from seeing the ridge from the upper parts of the mountain.
On hot days, the shelf of rock and slopes of grass would be peppered with sweaty naked boys enjoying the sun (and each other). But, it was past the peak of the summer and nights were cool.
Ryan was heading for was his regular spot at the end of the ridge, just past a boulder, where a smooth slice of granite was lower than the rest, both granting it a little privacy and acting as an amphitheater when guys stood around the edges to watch any action. Ryan had seen a few shows over time, even been in a couple.
He walked across the ridge, the silence settling in, the sun in a clear sky pouring down. He seemed to be alone today, which suited him fine. He strolled to his section only to find his spot occupied.
A young guy lay just passed the Boulder wearing socks, jeans, white t-shirt, and baseball cap tipped down over his eyes. He looked too neat to be living outside. Athletic shoes were laced beside him and were not only completely inappropriate for hiking but were also spotless and, probably, very expensive.
The kid's in my space, thought Ryan, maybe he frightens easy. He strolled further and dropped his backpack about six feet from the sleeper. As expected, the noise startled him awake.
"Oh, sorry," said Ryan. "Did I wake you up?"
The guy pushed his hat back and looked at Ryan. "S'okay. I didn't mean to drop off. It's very peaceful up here."
"It is," agreed Ryan. He grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and peeled it off, exposing his wide, hairy chest and solid core. He bunched the shirt up and, lifting each arm up in turn, used it to wipe his pits.
"Warm day, too. Hiking built up a sweat." He dropped the shirt onto the pack. He sat down and untied his hiking boots. "You been here long?"
"Not really, just a few..." he glanced at his watch. "Wow. Ok, I've been here 45 minutes. Guess I really dropped off. "
"It's a good spot for that." His boots off, Ryan took off his socks and wriggled hairy toes.
"You here a lot?"
"I wouldn't say a lot," answered Ryan. "Enough to have a regular spot. Here. You come a lot?" Ryan quirked an eyebrow, wondering if the kid would get the entendre.
"Nah. This is my first time here. I was hiking up the mountain with my girlfriend and was taking a path and she said not to, that the other path went up the mountain. I asked where that path went and she said the back of the mountain."
Ah, thought Ryan, straight-boy. Here by accident or by "accident", he wondered.
"So you hadn't heard of this place?" Ryan stood, undid his belt, and unbuttoned his shorts. He unzipped his fly enough to show off the weave of his Bike supporter basket. He always wore a smaller size to make the pouch snug on his junk. The kid was looking away, pitching stones off the ridge.
"Ah...no, never heard of it. It's nice up here, I don't know why she wouldn't come up." He turned to Ryan and flinched at the view as Ryan dropped the shorts to the ground. His full basket was prominent in the other guys view, his body muscled and coated with dark red hair. Ryan stepped out of the shorts, turned his back, and bent at the waist to retrieve them, giving the young man a view of his firm ass and hairy crack.
"What are you doing?"
Ryan stood and turned, enjoying the slight panic in the kid's voice. His thumbs hooked onto the waistband of the jock, pulling the elastic out from his waist. "This is nude beach, as it were. Guys come here to sunbathe naked."
"It is? Oh, that explains... I thought... Okay." He stood. Ryan grinned at the pending flight of the straight-boy. The straight boy grabbed his hat, dropped it to the ground, and pulled his T-shirt over his head. "I like sunning." He dropped the shirt, opened his jeans, and pushed them to the ground in record time. He stood on one leg, freeing his foot, clad only in snug, white boxer briefs. His foot twisted in the pant leg and his balance wavered. Ryan let his waistband snap back and rushed over to grab the boy before he pitched himself over the side.
"Thanks! That was close, huh? Just a sec." He freed his foot and, his arm and chest still held by Ryan, a tiny nipple under his hand, shifted his balance and fought his other foot free. He stood on both feet, holding his jeans in front of him. His head came up to Ryan's chin. His hair, dark and curly, was squashed close to his head by the cap. His body was lean, muscles developed and long, his chest flat and squared off. A trail of hair was between his pecs and ran down over flat abs and trailed into snug underwear. His basket was apparent, soft, and thick thighs stretched out the leg holes. A swimmer's body, thought Ryan, bet there's a bubble butt behind it.
"Thanks for saving my ass. I'm good now." He smiled at Ryan, a wide grin, and stood bent-kneed, like balancing on a surfboard. Ryan nodded and stepped back. They looked at each other a moment, waiting to see who would strip off first. Ryan hooked his thumbs and pulled the jock down to his ankles. As he bent back up, he saw the other bent over, skimming his underwear to the ground. He straightened up and shrugged. His soft cock swung loose, pubes trimmed close. Ryan's cock, heavy and hairy, swelled a bit at the view. He unconsciously started to lick his lips and stopped himself. He squatted down, took out his water bottle, and took a swig. He stood and held it out.
"Water? I'm Ryan by the way."
"Thanks." He stepped closer and took the bottle. "Billy."
Ryan sat, legs stretched out, arms supporting a seated position. Billy sat cross-legged beside him, with space for a third person, a wide third person, between them. He handed back the water bottle. They sat, enjoying the view. From the corner of his eye, Ryan saw Billy mimic his pose.
