I bought a used storage shed on Craig's list and planned to use it as a camp house on some of my Granddad's land. He had forty acres that was still densely wooded along a creek. I cleared a spot at the end of an old abandoned road on the property and had the building delivered there. It needed a lot of work to make it into a camp house, so I invited a buddy to help with the project.
Greg was probably my best friend since college and our families hung out together often. Our wives had gone on a shopping trip to Dallas and our kids were all farmed out to family or friends, so Greg and I decided to spend the weekend at the camp house to get more done.
After dinner, Greg set up the air mattress which was one of those tall ones that took forever to fill up. We had a small generator along to charge our power tools and we used it to inflate the air mattress. Greg threw a sleeping bag on top of of it and that was the bed. It was really warm out so when we decided to turn-in Greg just shucked his clothes and climbed on the air mattress naked. We worked out together at the gym so seeing each other nude was no big deal. I didn't think anything about it and did the same.
About 15 minutes after we laid down we both realized the air mattress had a leak and we were drifting towards each other as the mattress lost air. Every time either one of us shifted our weight our bodies moved closer together. It got comical after a while and we were eventually staring at each other face to face only inches apart. I could feel his chest hair against my elbows and his hairy legs were against mine with no way to back off.
I stared at his perfect beard and he smirked looking back.
"Thank you for brushing your teeth," I said expressionless, starting our usual trash talk.
"And you for taking a shower this morning," he replied, "did you use Irish Spring?"
"Well, I knew it was your favorite," I said deadpan.
Our banter was always a mixture of gay camp and sarcasm.
"Is this what it's like to be a real man," I asked, rubbing his chest hair with the back of my hand. Greg always gave me shit because I didn't have any chest hair.
"Only if you are part Ukrainian," he said with a fake accent that sounded half Russian and half Spanish. Greg's great grandmother was from the Ukraine and he attributed all his manly traits to her ancestry.
"But what of the Ukrainian women," I questioned, "don't they also have chest hair and whiskers?"
He tried to hide a smile while thinking up an adequate comeback.
"Yes of course," he said using the accent again, "but there is one difference with our women. They don't have this."
Greg grabbed my hand and pushed it against his cock. His dick was already thick and getting hard in a hurry. I stared in his eyes and the showdown had begun. How far would he go this time. He had done suggestive crap before but nothing this overt, nothing that crossed the line like this had.
Instead of recoiling, I wrapped my hand around his dick and squeezed it slightly. His eyes got big when I didn't immediately take my hand away. Then I reached below his cock and cupped his big hairy balls and followed them up as I stroked his cock a couple of times. His bush was so damn thick I could feel the dense mass of hair around my hand as I fondled him. His dick stretched out to its full length and I could feel my cock starting to get hard.
His dick was completely boned when I let go of it.
"I assume you put an extension on that when you make love to your wife," I said.
"Only with Father O'Malley," he replied. I snorted slightly, which was an unwritten acknowledgement that he had one-upped me on making jokes.
