Surprised By A Bear - Part 2- free erotic gay stories on MaleDirectory
This time I woke up first. I was still lying atop Mick, his arms around me, his legs apart, my legs between his, my face snuggled into his hairy barrel chest, my cock hard, hard, hard, piss-filled. This time I looked lovingly at his face, willing him to wake up and smile at me. He did. My heart melted. But my cock didn’t. It kept telling me, “Piss, piss, piss!”
Carefully, I detached myself from his embrace. Trying not to disturb his leisurely awakening, I tried to slide out of his arms and walk to the door that opens onto the deck. But I hadn’t allowed for our furry torsos to be cemented together with our dried cum! As I lifted my chest from his, we both let out anguished howls when our chest hairs, tangled and glued, pulled as if by major sports tape! Realizing what was happening, we both burst into uproarious laughter, which did nothing good for my bladder. “Okay,” I said, “there’s nothing for it but to do it fast! Pull your knees up and spread them.” He did so, and as his legs wishboned out of my way, I drew my knees up to his crotch, thrilling to the touch of his furry balls and firm ass cheeks, but intent on my mission. With a quick raising of my ass, then my chest, I tore our bodies apart. Agony! Then, with no time to lose, my turgid dick leading me across the room to the door, I fled out into the hot midday sun, down the steps to the grass, aimed my pointing dick to the sun and let go. I pissed and pissed and pissed. And then I was no longer alone. Mick had padded up behind me, and before I knew it, he had poked his swollen dick between my legs and let fly with his own just-awake piss load.
Instantly I started to tremble, thrilled by his closeness, charged by the surging power of his erection between my thighs. My prick returned to full alert, bouncing up and down, momentarily contacting his on each downbeat. I leaned back into the scratchy hairiness of his chest, belly and pubes. He hunched his pelvis forward, thrusting his still-swollen cock under me and as far forward as it would go. I tilted by pelvis back so that my cock lay directly atop his, my balls in his pubes, our shafts and cockheads aligned. I reached down with both my hands, interlocking my fingers together around our parallel cocks and began stroking. It was only moments before I felt my precum flowing around my cockhead and leaking down onto his meat, and felt his lubrication slicking the underside of his helmet, my hands now sliding erotically forward and back along both pulsing shafts. His arms came around my chest and fingers began stroking and rolling my nipples, parting my chest hair to make good contact. Faster and faster glided my fists, gripping our twin tools tightly, squeezing the heads together, swirling across the pair of piss slits to collect and spread the slick lube that was pumping copiously from both gaping holes. Then my breath caught in my chest, all my muscles tensed and my essence spewed out of my cock lips, spattering the grass and oozing down to coat Mick’s full dickhead and shaft. That was all it took to set his jizz flowing too. His first shot erupted just as I was lifting both cocks in a frantic upstroke, and his jizz flew past my face. His next shots were like mine--pouring out of his cocktip rather than shooting. I slumped back against him, and he slumped back against the steps. We rested there in the hot sun, catching our breath and orienting ourselves to what had just happened. Then he started to chuckle. “You’re one hot old dude!” he chortled. “I thought I’d have my way with you this morning, but no--you got me first!”
“Surprised me all to hell, too.” I replied. “I haven’t had a morning hardon for bloody years and years. You really do something to my body, Buddy!” And I snuggled contentedly against his bulk.
“So,” he said. “I guess I should head out and let you have your day. I’m sure you’ve got things planned . . .”
“Well . . .” I mused, “I thought the first thing I’d do would be to buy you brunch. Then I thought we might come back here and take the canoe out for a bit of a paddle. Then I thought we might need a bit of a nap--you know us retired guys put a lot of stock in naps.” I paused and grinned wickedly. “Then I thought we might get started on the weight routines we said we’d do together. By the time that’s done, it’ll be time for supper. I’ve got a couple of steaks we could bbq. If we make a big enough mess, it will take all evening to clean it up and it’ll be too late for you to go home so maybe you’ll want to stay over again . . . .“ And I grinned again. “Unless you’ve got other things planned and need to get away?” That thought hadn’t occured to me and it scared me. I didn’t want him going anywhere, not for a long time.
“Well . . . ,” he drew in his breath carefully. “I’ve booked for 18 holes of golf at 3:00. But, hey, for sure I’m game for brunch with you, and yeah, steak bbq sounds good--if we can plan it for 8:00 o’clock or so. And I’ll bring potatoes and salad, and something special for dessert.”
Relieved, I smiled. “You’re on, Buddy! Now, let me show you my shower set-up and let’s see if we can get rid of some of this evidence.” I took his hand and led him through the bedroom to the ensuite. The shower stall was my pride and joy. I had designed it myself to be both functional and sensual. It was very roomy with two overhead showerheads as well as a number of strategically-placed wall spray nozzles around three walls, a couple of them detachable to become hand-helds. All the showerheads were directed so that there was no need for a door into the shower area, you just walked in at the end of the fourth side, which was clear glass and faced a mirrored wall with a low towelling-off bench placed in front of the mirrors. The sink counter was along the wall opposite the bathroom door, and the toilet was around the corner, behind the wall backing the sink. The exterior wall, from the full-length mirrors to the end of the toilet alcove, was floor to ceiling distorted window blocks so that the whole bathroom was flooded with daylight. I’d had many an erotic time pleasuring myself in that shower, voyeuristically watching myself in the mirror.
Mick whistled in admiration as he looked around the room while I adjusted the water temperatures. Still holding his hand, I drew him into the cascades of water. Then he took over. Reaching for one of the hand-helds, he played the spray up and down my body, stopping to turn the sprayer over under my crotch to spray-massage my balls, which drew quickly up against my trunk, and my cock, which quickly began to stretch and thicken yet again until it was pointing straight up, throbbing and bouncing. I don’t think it had done that since I was about 35! I was in ecstasy as Mick continued to massage my whole body tenderly with the waterpik. Next he reached for the bottle of shower gel and lathered me from head to toe, taking extra time around my nipples, belly button and buttocks, and up my thighs to the tender spots on either side of my basket. Finally he tenderly lathered my head, shampooing my thinning hair with incredibly sensuous fingertip strokes. My entire body was thrumming with pleasure as he finally rinsed me clean of all the lather and stooped to kiss the tip of my still-straining, livid, throbbing cock. My prostate tried to pump out some precum, even some semen, but I was dry, dry, dry. My cock remained in exquisite, straining agony as I began tending to Mick. His performance on me was so perfect that I tried to copy every move he had made. I think I was successful because in no time at all his muscles were quivering and his meat was upright against his belly yet again. But he was young--he was spilling precum, which I swirled around and around his purple, swollen cockhead. Then I pressed his member against his hairy belly and with my open palm, stroked the underside, giving special attention to the underside of the helmet rim, right in the centre, where the pleasure is so intense it is almost pain. That was all it took. He shot again, his gism flying up to his chin and dripping back down to his belly. Shot after shot, almost as if he hadn’t cum for weeks. Lucky guy!
But if we were going to avoid starvation before he went golfing, we had to move on. I lathered his cummy places again and rinsed him all over and we stepped out of the shower. Facing the mirrors, we dried each other with the huge fluffy towels I had put out before we showered. The mirror provided an interesting picture. He was big, I was small in comparison. We were both hairy, but he was white-skinned; I was tanned--all over. He was actually kind of pudgy, I was really wiry, except for a slightly-too-round belly. Looking at the picture, you wouldn’t think either of us would exactly be called sexy. What had clicked so firmly for us, I wondered to myself. Not for long, though--no time for introspection, we had to get going.
He took his truck, I took my SUV import. Extravagant, I know, but when you live in rural areas you have to have safe, reliable transportation. We had a good brunch, filled with light-hearted banter and whispered erotic innuendos. It felt good. We finished in good time and made plans for him to come back to my place when he had finished golfing and we’d barbeque after he got there. I went to get some wine, onion and mushrooms; he reminded me he would be bringing potatoes, salad and “special dessert”. I was intrigued but he would give no more information than that.
I spent the afternoon setting up the deck for our dinner, napping, and daydreaming about tender and sensual love--with a man of all things. I had wondered about it for years but never expected to experience it. What I was experiencing was beyond anything I could ever imagine--not marriage, not parenting, not grandparenting. I wondered where it was going, but I knew I’d cherish every minute of it no matter what.
Carefully, I detached myself from his embrace. Trying not to disturb his leisurely awakening, I tried to slide out of his arms and walk to the door that opens onto the deck. But I hadn’t allowed for our furry torsos to be cemented together with our dried cum! As I lifted my chest from his, we both let out anguished howls when our chest hairs, tangled and glued, pulled as if by major sports tape! Realizing what was happening, we both burst into uproarious laughter, which did nothing good for my bladder. “Okay,” I said, “there’s nothing for it but to do it fast! Pull your knees up and spread them.” He did so, and as his legs wishboned out of my way, I drew my knees up to his crotch, thrilling to the touch of his furry balls and firm ass cheeks, but intent on my mission. With a quick raising of my ass, then my chest, I tore our bodies apart. Agony! Then, with no time to lose, my turgid dick leading me across the room to the door, I fled out into the hot midday sun, down the steps to the grass, aimed my pointing dick to the sun and let go. I pissed and pissed and pissed. And then I was no longer alone. Mick had padded up behind me, and before I knew it, he had poked his swollen dick between my legs and let fly with his own just-awake piss load.
Instantly I started to tremble, thrilled by his closeness, charged by the surging power of his erection between my thighs. My prick returned to full alert, bouncing up and down, momentarily contacting his on each downbeat. I leaned back into the scratchy hairiness of his chest, belly and pubes. He hunched his pelvis forward, thrusting his still-swollen cock under me and as far forward as it would go. I tilted by pelvis back so that my cock lay directly atop his, my balls in his pubes, our shafts and cockheads aligned. I reached down with both my hands, interlocking my fingers together around our parallel cocks and began stroking. It was only moments before I felt my precum flowing around my cockhead and leaking down onto his meat, and felt his lubrication slicking the underside of his helmet, my hands now sliding erotically forward and back along both pulsing shafts. His arms came around my chest and fingers began stroking and rolling my nipples, parting my chest hair to make good contact. Faster and faster glided my fists, gripping our twin tools tightly, squeezing the heads together, swirling across the pair of piss slits to collect and spread the slick lube that was pumping copiously from both gaping holes. Then my breath caught in my chest, all my muscles tensed and my essence spewed out of my cock lips, spattering the grass and oozing down to coat Mick’s full dickhead and shaft. That was all it took to set his jizz flowing too. His first shot erupted just as I was lifting both cocks in a frantic upstroke, and his jizz flew past my face. His next shots were like mine--pouring out of his cocktip rather than shooting. I slumped back against him, and he slumped back against the steps. We rested there in the hot sun, catching our breath and orienting ourselves to what had just happened. Then he started to chuckle. “You’re one hot old dude!” he chortled. “I thought I’d have my way with you this morning, but no--you got me first!”
“Surprised me all to hell, too.” I replied. “I haven’t had a morning hardon for bloody years and years. You really do something to my body, Buddy!” And I snuggled contentedly against his bulk.
“So,” he said. “I guess I should head out and let you have your day. I’m sure you’ve got things planned . . .”
“Well . . .” I mused, “I thought the first thing I’d do would be to buy you brunch. Then I thought we might come back here and take the canoe out for a bit of a paddle. Then I thought we might need a bit of a nap--you know us retired guys put a lot of stock in naps.” I paused and grinned wickedly. “Then I thought we might get started on the weight routines we said we’d do together. By the time that’s done, it’ll be time for supper. I’ve got a couple of steaks we could bbq. If we make a big enough mess, it will take all evening to clean it up and it’ll be too late for you to go home so maybe you’ll want to stay over again . . . .“ And I grinned again. “Unless you’ve got other things planned and need to get away?” That thought hadn’t occured to me and it scared me. I didn’t want him going anywhere, not for a long time.
“Well . . . ,” he drew in his breath carefully. “I’ve booked for 18 holes of golf at 3:00. But, hey, for sure I’m game for brunch with you, and yeah, steak bbq sounds good--if we can plan it for 8:00 o’clock or so. And I’ll bring potatoes and salad, and something special for dessert.”
Relieved, I smiled. “You’re on, Buddy! Now, let me show you my shower set-up and let’s see if we can get rid of some of this evidence.” I took his hand and led him through the bedroom to the ensuite. The shower stall was my pride and joy. I had designed it myself to be both functional and sensual. It was very roomy with two overhead showerheads as well as a number of strategically-placed wall spray nozzles around three walls, a couple of them detachable to become hand-helds. All the showerheads were directed so that there was no need for a door into the shower area, you just walked in at the end of the fourth side, which was clear glass and faced a mirrored wall with a low towelling-off bench placed in front of the mirrors. The sink counter was along the wall opposite the bathroom door, and the toilet was around the corner, behind the wall backing the sink. The exterior wall, from the full-length mirrors to the end of the toilet alcove, was floor to ceiling distorted window blocks so that the whole bathroom was flooded with daylight. I’d had many an erotic time pleasuring myself in that shower, voyeuristically watching myself in the mirror.
Mick whistled in admiration as he looked around the room while I adjusted the water temperatures. Still holding his hand, I drew him into the cascades of water. Then he took over. Reaching for one of the hand-helds, he played the spray up and down my body, stopping to turn the sprayer over under my crotch to spray-massage my balls, which drew quickly up against my trunk, and my cock, which quickly began to stretch and thicken yet again until it was pointing straight up, throbbing and bouncing. I don’t think it had done that since I was about 35! I was in ecstasy as Mick continued to massage my whole body tenderly with the waterpik. Next he reached for the bottle of shower gel and lathered me from head to toe, taking extra time around my nipples, belly button and buttocks, and up my thighs to the tender spots on either side of my basket. Finally he tenderly lathered my head, shampooing my thinning hair with incredibly sensuous fingertip strokes. My entire body was thrumming with pleasure as he finally rinsed me clean of all the lather and stooped to kiss the tip of my still-straining, livid, throbbing cock. My prostate tried to pump out some precum, even some semen, but I was dry, dry, dry. My cock remained in exquisite, straining agony as I began tending to Mick. His performance on me was so perfect that I tried to copy every move he had made. I think I was successful because in no time at all his muscles were quivering and his meat was upright against his belly yet again. But he was young--he was spilling precum, which I swirled around and around his purple, swollen cockhead. Then I pressed his member against his hairy belly and with my open palm, stroked the underside, giving special attention to the underside of the helmet rim, right in the centre, where the pleasure is so intense it is almost pain. That was all it took. He shot again, his gism flying up to his chin and dripping back down to his belly. Shot after shot, almost as if he hadn’t cum for weeks. Lucky guy!
But if we were going to avoid starvation before he went golfing, we had to move on. I lathered his cummy places again and rinsed him all over and we stepped out of the shower. Facing the mirrors, we dried each other with the huge fluffy towels I had put out before we showered. The mirror provided an interesting picture. He was big, I was small in comparison. We were both hairy, but he was white-skinned; I was tanned--all over. He was actually kind of pudgy, I was really wiry, except for a slightly-too-round belly. Looking at the picture, you wouldn’t think either of us would exactly be called sexy. What had clicked so firmly for us, I wondered to myself. Not for long, though--no time for introspection, we had to get going.
He took his truck, I took my SUV import. Extravagant, I know, but when you live in rural areas you have to have safe, reliable transportation. We had a good brunch, filled with light-hearted banter and whispered erotic innuendos. It felt good. We finished in good time and made plans for him to come back to my place when he had finished golfing and we’d barbeque after he got there. I went to get some wine, onion and mushrooms; he reminded me he would be bringing potatoes, salad and “special dessert”. I was intrigued but he would give no more information than that.
I spent the afternoon setting up the deck for our dinner, napping, and daydreaming about tender and sensual love--with a man of all things. I had wondered about it for years but never expected to experience it. What I was experiencing was beyond anything I could ever imagine--not marriage, not parenting, not grandparenting. I wondered where it was going, but I knew I’d cherish every minute of it no matter what.