Picnic

It was unseasonably hot for Memorial Day weekend – high eighties, humidity higher than normal and making it feel like mid-90s. The almost-hurricane off the coast was signaling is imminent arrival.

The was in full tilt. There were well over 300 people enjoying the food, the sports activities, the pool and the beach at the defunct beach club my company had rented for this Saturday before Memorial Day for our company . A sign of the economic times, the once-grand club, which had been the playground for the privileged, was rented to our company for what our human resources director thought a steal and what the Bankruptcy Trustee had been happy to accept, along with a rumored seventy-two page liability document – of course the lawyers have to pump up their fees. On the other hand our company was thankfully doing well and thought the price for the facility and the services we’d hired was a bargain for its employees. As one, I was grateful for the gesture, even though I’d been dragged to the by a well-meaning older analyst and her husband.

Our company had gone first-rate on everything. In fact you’d never know the place had gone bankrupt. There were nearly sixty workers there – caterers, lifeguards, clowns, activity directors. And those were only the ones there today. I knew, from a friend in HR, that there were over one hundred workers who’d been on the payroll to make this event happen for us.

But there was only one of those hired people who caught my interest. Tall, taller than my six-four; dark hair, much darker than my dark blond; light eyes, looked like my baby blues, but at the distance not certain; easily as lean and muscular as I, as was obvious from his polo shirt, tight in the shoulders biceps, chest and even at his waist, where I swear I could see the outline of his eight-pack under that white cotton shirt; and hairy hairier than I, his wiry black fur coming out the open neck of his shirt and covering his muscular corded arms and legs. Oh, and the ass on him was, in a word, stellar. (And the prominent bulge on the other side of his body at that level was eye-catching.)

I was DICKstracted by the vision of that stud numerous times already, and I’d only been there about an hour. But this time he caught me by surprise. “Enjoying it?” he said, and his voice was deep, and his diction was perfect.

When I turned to face him – he’d come behind me as I was on the sidelines of a volleyball game going on the beach – I confirmed that his eyes were indeed very close to my light shade of blue. I may have involuntarily smacked my lips, I can’t be certain, when I inhaled his scent. I’m certain a grin spread across my face. “I am, surprisingly,” I said, probably more honestly than I’d intended.

“Why surprising?” he asked with obvious interest.

“Oh, these really aren’t my thing,” I said vaguely.

Right as he was about to reply, a spike deflected off the foot of one of the players and hurtled right at us. I grabbed it reflexively, without moving a single muscle more than was necessary. I flung it back toward the game effortlessly, and got a hurried thank you. I waved a “no problem”.

“Good reflexes there, uh . . . “ he said.

I turned to him and put out my hand. “Cate. William Cate, Colonel, United States Marine Corps, Retired,” I said somewhat more stiffly than I had intended.

“Impressive,” he replied, and held onto my hand firmly.

“And you are?” His handsome face broke into a wide smile, and with a laugh he said, “Oh, sorry, Colonel Cate. Ellis. James Ellis. Esquire.” And still he gripped my hand, and our eyes bore into each other’s.

It was my turn to laugh, and self-consciously I pumped his hand. “Glad to meet you, Esquire Ellis.” Before he had time to respond, the guys playing volleyball had flagged us. “Hey, guys, wanna take on the winners?” a cocky young guy I vaguely recognized as being one of the admins called to us. There were only two of them out there; I didn’t recognize the other one, nor did I know where the other two players who’d been on our side of the net before had gone to. Guess I’d been too interested in Esquire Ellis.

“Us?” I said, signaling to the two of us.

“If you think you’re up to it, old men!” he called back grinning.

I turned to Ellis and said, “Let’s show the youngsters how it’s done,” he said, easily loud enough for the young guys to hear us.

“Yeah, buds,” the admin called enthusiastically. “Game on!”

As we walked toward the net, Ellis shucked his polo shirt in one easy move and stopped to get his sneakers and socks off. I had to hurry to catch up with him, as the view of his chest and back took my breath away. Certainly better than the outline through that polo shirt had been.

The game started friendly enough but quickly – admittedly after we spiked them twice – turned furious. We held our own against the two hot young men who were barely older than half our ages. But we played with everything we had, and barely made it to our winning match point. If we’d lost that and lost serve, the boys would have killed us.

Ellis and I used the last of our energy to bump chests, our sweat splashing as we did, then we both stumbled over to the net and shook our opponents’ hands. “Man, did we have you guys wrong,” the one I didn’t know said charitably. The other one chimed in, “Yeah, we thought you were two more easy targets.”

“Yeah, well, that’ll teach you to assume,” Ellis shot back playfully. “Maybe when you get to be our age you’ll have the experience we do and will know who’ll kick your ass and whose asses you can kick.”

“Oh yeah?” the admin taunted. “Well then why don’t we go another game and see who kicks whose ass?”

OK, no way we could do it, even with these few minutes we’d had to recover. I looked at Ellis.

“Hey, men,” he said, putting his hands out in surrender. “Even if my friend and I wanted to teach you two another lesson, I’ve got responsibilities I’ve got to attend to here. I’m working this event.”

“You are?” I mumbled under my breath.

The younger guys laughed and put out their hands again to shake. “OK, guys, OK. Good game anyway, thanks,” the one I recognized said, and the other one said something like that as well.

We grabbed our shirts and shoes and headed back up toward the club. “You really working this event, Esquire Ellis?”

He laughed. “Yes, Colonel Cate. And just for the record, it’s improper form to call an attorney ‘Esquire’ as a form of address, at least verbally. It’s just that with your formal self-introduction—“

I put my hand on his shoulder and said, “James or Jim?” smiling.

We were very close together at that point having stopped short in our walk up from the beach. I leaned in toward me almost imperceptibly and inhaled deeply, momentarily closing his eyes. Inside my head the light went on and then inside my nuts and my cock twitched. “If I said you can call me anything you like, would that be too forward?”

“Do you really have to ‘work’, Ellis?”

“I’m here for the Trustee to see that the event is conducted in accordance with the contract and that the estate does not suffer any damage.”

“And you said I was too formal?” I laughed?

“What I meant was that the event is in good hands with a few of my firm’s people here, and I could use a shower and someone to at least wash my back. That plain enough for you, Colonel, because I can take it down a notch further, if that’s too vague for an incredibly HOT Marine to grasp.”

And I was HOT . . . but not from his flattery, but from his sweaty musky scent, the sight of his fur soaked and matted with sweat, from my testosterone raging, and my balls beginning to send signals to my cock which would, shortly, make it embarrassing to get to my truck among the masses of my co-workers. I got my phone out of my shorts and thumbed a text to my bud who’d driven me to the , silently thanking myself for agreeing to “carpool” there against my general tendencies. “You drive; I rode here with someone,” I said.

“Anyone I have to worry about?” he growled, moving in close enough for our chests to touch.

The electrical jolt went straight to my cock. “The only thing you have to worry about is getting me out of here before I throw you down and have my way with you right here, Ellis.”

His eyes laughed, and his voice was very soft, his breath brushing my lips and setting me even more aflame than I was. “Jim.”

“I’ll try to remember that when I scream out your name while I’m fucking your brains out, JIM,” I said, having matched his sotto voce and moved my head forward until our lips were almost touching. “And Bill is fine with me, JIM,” I added, emphasizing again his name.

“I was the one who said you could call me anything, remember?” he purred in soft baritone. “I just figured you deserved a straight answer was all.”

“Jim, if there’s anything straight about either one of us, I’m going to be VERY disappointed,” I said, that time actually brushing his lips. And his cock hardening in his shorts now close enough to feel told me neither of us had anything to worry about.

“I’m single, too, just for the record,” he said, turning and starting walking again.

I had my shirt and shoes in my hand still, and I made a show of folding it or rearranging it as we walked so that I could hold the shirt in front of my huge bulge in my shorts. I was following him, so I couldn’t see how or even if he was doing something similar, but when we were in his BMW I saw he’d definitely had the same challenge, whether he’d hidden it or not.

I reached out and put my hand on his muscular furry leg, and he turned to me and just looked at me. “I don’t do this kind of thing, just so you know,” he said.

In response, I moved my hand slowly up his leg and around to his inner thigh, finally having my hand inside the leg of his shorts and against the pouch of what were obviously briefs. I just moved the heel of my hand slightly up and down against his right ball, and I watched his eyes glaze over, his head back against the headrest. “You don’t have to do this, Jim. If you’d like to call me and go out for dinner or lunch a few times, I’ll enjoy fucking you just as much when we finally do it, and if you’re more comfortable, I can go back and ride home with Liz and George.”

He turned his head toward me, still back against the headrest, and just looked at me. I had enough time to think his look was a bit troubled . . . pained, even. Just when it was getting uncomfortable (for me) he leaned over and brought his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me in for a kiss. It was a gentle kiss – unexpected in its softness – but sweet. And he caressed the back of my neck as he kissed me. When he finally broke the kiss he put his forehead against mine. “I don’t care who saw that. I hope you don’t, either, Bill.”

“Mmmmmmmmmmm,” I sighed. “No, I don’t, not at all actually, which surprises me just a little, but I like it.”

“Good, because we’re doing it again,” he said, meeting my lips and pulling us more together and parting his lips this time for my probing tongue.

This kiss started gentle, but when he’d moved toward me it had jammed my hand more fully into his basket, and I’d taken the opportunity to maneuver my hand around and grabbed the root of his cock, it went fierce. If I was honest, that might have been what caused him to part his lips, not just willingness to submit to me but a gasp resulting from my grip of a very impressive piece of man meat in his shorts. We grappled and tongue-dueled and groped until we were both gasping when we broke the kiss this time. “I hope you don’t live far away, Jim,” I said.

“Less than ten minutes,” he said, and he pushed the button to start the engine.

“That’s about nine more minutes than I think I can wait,” I growled, squeezing his hard cock roughly.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, Bill, but please take your hand off my cock. If you don’t, I can’t vouch for the safety of my driving!”

I let go of his cock and moved my hand around so it was fully pressed against his balls but holding his inner thigh and not moving. I wasn’t letting go of him, no way!

Neither of us said anything for about half of the drive. Suddenly I blurted out, “I DO do this, by the way, Jim. I DO hook up with HOT men when I have the chance and have HOT sex.” I held my breath to see his response in the wake of his “I don’t do this” statement before.

“Are you clean, Jim – disease-free?” he asked, sensibly.

“Sure am. Actually got the results Friday from tests I had during an annual physical the 17th.”

“Hmmmmmm,” he said.

I didn’t know what “hmmmmmmm” meant. “Is that a good ‘hmmmmmmm’ or a bad ‘hmmmmmmm’?” I asked him.

He chuckled, and his face lit up in the smile I’d enjoyed so much on the beach. “It’s a ‘damn, why didn’t I go to medical school instead of law school because then I could have been the one giving this hunk his physical’ ‘hmmmmmmm’,” Bill.

I laughed and squeezed his thigh. “We’ll be playing doctor soon enough!”

We both smiled the rest of the drive to his place.

Jim’s house was a half-century or so old beach house – 50’s or 60’s I was guessing – two communities down the beach from where we’d been at the . The outside was tidy and unremarkable. He hit the garage door button in the driveway, and we pulled into the center of a garage which looked like it had just been built or had just been cleaned out. Either way, we were half in private, and my pulse started racing again.

When he stopped the car, he hit the button to shut the door behind us, and I took that as the all clear and pounced across onto him, locking my lips on his and taking a firm handful of his raging cock. The growl/moan I got in response, and the fire which came back through his lips and tongue had me crazed for him.

We kissed and groped in that cramped space for who-knows-how-long, but we were both panting, and the enclosed space was ripe with our sweat and hormones when we both took a break. “Inside?” he said breathily.

“Oh, yeah, definitely INSIDE,” I said with two meanings.

“Fuuuuuuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk,” he said from somewhere deep in his throat.

Goddamn he was sexy! I tossled his hair and said, “Come on, Jimmy, let’s have some REAL fun!”

He laughed. “Nobody’s done that to me since I was a kid,” he said, as we got out of his Beemer.

“I’ll assume you mean patted you on the head and messed your perfect lawyer hair, NOT given you a raging bone and promised to fuck you.”

He laughed, devilishly this time. “I dunno, stud, could be both,” he shot back.

At the door I clamped my arms around him and ground into him, but instead of pushing my lips against his, I put my lips by his right ear. “If that’s the case, my man Jim, and you’re out practice, then you’re going to have one exceptionally sore ass afterward.”

I was holding him tight, and our cocks were grinding together through our shorts. His answer to that was a long moan and kiss to the base of my neck which turned into a semi-savage bite which practically had me cumming in my shorts. The meaning was clear, and my cock needed to be IN him NOW. “You’d better have lube and condoms inside,” I growled.

We broke at that, and he led me inside through a laundry room and into a hall by the kitchen. I could see through into the kitchen and into a massive den which let me know I’d clearly misjudged the house from the outside because it was far bigger than it looked. But my reconnaissance was abrupt because he was already turned and halfway across the house through that hall and through a living room and another hall by the time I beat feet to catch up with him.

We ended at a dead end beyond a door which had obviously taken us into his bedroom area. He reached around me when I was in the door and shoved the door shut and locked it. My curious look got: “Force of habit. We’re alone in the house. Shower or bed?”

I was on him again in a heartbeat, him pressed against his wall, and I took a long swipe from his right nipple up across his perfect furry pec and up his strong corded neck to just behind his ear. “YUM,” I exclaimed, and finished with, “I want to taste the sweat on every square inch of you the first time, Jim.”

He yanked away from me and grabbed me by my shorts waistband and virtually dragged me through an intersecting hall past what were probably closets into a massive bedroom with about twenty feet of windows looking out onto the beach and ocean. I didn’t have much time to enjoy the view . . . of the ocean at least . . . because Jim shoved me roughly down on the bed and practically ripped open my shorts and had my big dripping cock out and in his mouth. “OH HOLY FUCK,” I shouted involuntarily as the heat of his mouth engulfed my engorged head.

His hands were on my balls and all over my torso, and he momentarily took his mouth off my cock to say, “Oh, yeah, the fucking will come soon, but right now I want to make sure you REALLY want it!” and he devoured my cockhead again and started to inhale my shaft. OH HOLY FUCK was all that was going through my head, but “Hell YES!” was what I exclaimed.

He wasn’t able to get more than a few inches of my fat horsecock inside his mouth, but he had one hand now on my shaft working it and his mouth was expert in its attentions, and I was racing violently toward the endpoint. I tried thinking of combat and lost friends and comrades, which usually gave me plenty of control, but not this time. I was about to push him off my cock when he let go of my cock, both hand and mouth, and his tongue went to my big burning nuts. It served to stop my careening toward a climax and put me in that heaven of just before the final build, hanging in ecstasy but not the ultimate ecstasy. My growls and moans were loud and continuous, and he clearly knew how to read them, increasing the intensity of sucking on my nuts to match my grateful gasps and working them longer and longer. I was floating somewhere and was brought back a little to myself when his tongue began its way from my balls backward and he had my legs pushed back so that he could get to my hole. I had a moment’s panic wondering how clean I was back there, but his plunge in made any thoughts of caution irrelevant. He was growling and grunting, and I was bucking and writhing and moaning like a bitch in heat as his one big hand worked my nuts firmly and almost roughly – which I fucking LOVE – and his tongue devoured my hole.

I was swirling in a space of ecstatic pleasure, and I almost missed the cue that my nuts were going to explode, it was so unexpected as my cock was completely neglected, just one hand pulling my buttcheek to give his mouth and tongue greater entry and his other hand now almost cruelly working my big full nuts. But a hair before it would have been too late I jerked my body up and way and savagely dragged him up onto the bed, virtually ripped off his shorts and briefs and shoved him over on his stomach. I dove into his hairy hole tongue first, my hands pulling his more-perfect-than-I’d-imagined assglobes apart and whimpered and growled at the same time when I tasted this man at the core of where I would possess him. His response was to moan and shove his ass back into my face and clearly show he wanted more. Jim’s rim was TIGHT but gave way to my tongue finally, and I wondered how long it had been since he was last properly fucked. The clock reset on that today, regardless of the answer, because now that I’d seen, felt, tasted and smelled that hole, it was MINE . . . at least for today.

I gave him the rim job and tongue fucking he deserved, and then began with my fingers. He was so incredibly tight I had no clue how I was going to get my fat cock into him or how he’d survive the fucking I was going to give him when I did. He was thrashing about and yelling and when he was finally BEGGING me to “Just PLEASE GOD FUCK ME,” I said, “Lube and condoms – NOW!” I had two fingers in him when he tried to move away toward one of the night tables, but I didn’t let go, so he said helplessly, desperately, in there.

I reached over with my other arm and got the drawer open and could see some of it. My hand thrashed about and came up with a bottle of KY liquid, but nothing like a box of condoms or a strip of foil. I took my hand out of him, to a very loud unintelligible but obvious complaint from him, and I got over to where I could look in the drawer and saw that there was almost nothing in it, and there were definitely no condoms. “No condoms,” I said, meeting his gaze.

He looked a little defiant. “They went beyond expiration, and I don’t have any more. You said you were clean, right?”

My head swirled. No way was this right, no matter my test almost two weeks ago and the fact that the only living thing that had been close to my cock since was my own left hand and now Jim. “Jim, we—“

“Look, it’s up to you. But for the record, I haven’t had any contact that would put me or another person at risk of sexually transmitted disease for over four years, and I’ve got my tests to prove I’m clean.”

I laughed – I couldn’t help myself. Jim’s face clouded over, and he looked menacing. “Dude, you just can’t help sounding like a lawyer, can you?” I said, laughing harder.

His look changed instantly into the playfully seductive smile I’d seen a few times and which stoked the fire in my nuts again. “How many attorneys have BEGGED you to FUCK them lately, Bill?”

I climbed onto him, pushing him over onto his back, and covered his body with mine. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him, and he responded. At length we broke the kiss. “In answer to your question, counselor, only the one I’m going to fuck so good today that he never forgets me.”

Jim’s eyes rolled a little and seemed to glaze. His voice was throaty and almost . . . wistful when he said, “Good answer.” Our eyes and bodies held contact and our breathing was the only sound for some time, despite the sense that our pounding pulses – particularly in our cocks which were nakedly pressed together between our sweaty precummy abs and stomachs – seemed to beat a bass in the background. And that gave me an idea.

I brought myself away from him and reached between us, first myself and then him, swiping up our precum. We’d both produced quite a copious amount of goo, and there was plenty to harvest. “Oh, fuck, man; this is my fantasy come true,” he said, knowing exactly how I intended to fuck him.

When I’d gathered a sloppy handful of our precum I shoved him over onto his stomach again. As my gooey hand made contact with his ass, Jim stretched lazily and let a loud moan that was more like a big purr and spread his legs wide and shoved his ass up into my hand. I worked his hole until he was writhing and begging, and I had three big fingers all up in him, and he was gooey and slick, I swear his ass was contributing its own lube by then.

I swiped my gooey hand around my long thick cock and worked my cockhead slick with my own precum mixing with what was on my hand, and I mounted him and shoved my huge head against his pucker. “Breathe,” I said and PUSHED slowly.

“FUCK YEAH,” he shouted, but only the tip of my big head was inside his hole and not going farther against the tightness of it. I pulled back and used my fingers again and tried again, with the same result and involuntarily sighed in frustration. To which Jim SHOVED his ass back onto my cock, and as I felt his muscle begin to give, he let out a long yelp but continued pushing back until my cock was enveloped in him. He was panting like he couldn’t catch his breath but somehow he managed, “Now fuck me, dammit.”

And I did. Slowly at first, worrying that his tight pucker would rip the skin right off my cock, then, as the painful tightness eased just the tiniest bit to give me encouragement, I began to pound that hole in earnest.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d fucked bare. Certainly I had, too many times in fact, but Jim’s skin against mine EVERYwhere was like the first time, and I loved it. He had a sexy tuft of hair above his ass at the base of his back which felt incredible against my groin as I pounded and ground into him and he shoved back on me, against me. And the soundtrack was loud yelling coming constantly from him with a stream of epithets and commands and thanksgiving that was filthy enough to stoke my jets and put my pounding hips on after-burner.

I decided I wanted him on his back and yanked my cock out and threw him over and had his legs in the air and JAMMED my cock in to a shriek from him and was pounding him again soundly before we’d hardly broken rhythm. His cries were louder and filther. “Pound me full of your fuckmeat, wanna take your seed you fucking bastard,” he was yelling and much alike that. And for my part any gentlemanly conduct had long past, and I responded with things like, “Yeah, take that big fucking cock you cockwhore. Work it like you mean business you fucking cum dumpster.” When Jim started yelling “OH FUCKING CHRIST” and I looked down and saw his cock start spewing his cum in long ropes across his dark fur it pushed me over the edge and I DROVE my cock into him even HARDER and my nuts exploded in blast after blast in rough sync with my own shouts to the almighty.

When I’d regained control of my body, I had none left, and I collapsed onto him roughly and limply. My cock was still inside him. Our torsos were mashed together with our sweat, our cum and his fur in a gooey mass between us. The sweat running off his head and neck against my face and cheek was slick and pungent, and I knew my forehead was making a puddle on his sheets. I finally made a move to get up, but he’d locked his big arms around me and held me from moving more than my head. “I turned my head, we were almost nose to nose. “You comfortable like this?”

His eyes were watery, and he looked a little scared. “Don’t be scared when I tell you this, Bill, but I could be comfortable just like this,” and to emphasize the gamut of his answer he wiggled his hips just enough that my cockhead which was still inside him felt it and he clenched HARD on my head to hold it in, “Forever.”

His look went from slightly fearful to longing, and I’m man enough to admit a voice inside my head was screaming “RUN!” But another voice – wordless – inside my head made my limp arms regain their strength and wrap under him and hold him tight to me, and my lips found his beautifully sweaty neck behind his ear, and the only sound I made was a long, low “Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.”