My Debt To Society free porn video

My Debt To Society By Katharine Sexkitten "Defendant will rise!" I stood up. My court-appointed lawyer rose with me. I didn't actually know his name. The Judge looked at me sternly, over top of the rims of his glasses. "Young man," he snarled, "this is the second time you've appeared in this court, much to my consternation." I thought, oh boy, this can't be good. "A third time will result in a sentence of considerable penalty, in a federal penitentiary. Do you understand that?" I nodded. "Do you?" he asked, seeming to demand a verbal answer from me. "Yes, I understand, Your Honor." I tried to keep my voice soft, and respectful. Contrite, even. "This is serious, young man. Now, the district attorney has submitted a plea agreement proposal, which states that it is your contention that you simply abetted the crime, without fore-knowledge of the nature of the goods. Is that correct?" I nodded again. "And I assume counsel has explained the agreement to you, including all the relevant possible penalties? And you agree to it?" My counsel had talked a little bit, but I wasn't in the mind-space to listen much. I just wanted out of there, which he assured me would happen if I took the deal. "Yes, Your Honor." "Very well," he said, nodding to himself. "Let it be entered into the record. In order to repay his debt to society, I sentence the defendant to one hundred hours of community service, as to be determined by the appropriate agency." Just before he banged his gavel, he looked at me again. "Perhaps," he added, "you didn't know you were transporting stolen goods in your vehicle." Then he paused. "Perhaps not." Then he paused again. "Regardless, this court extends the benefit of the doubt. However," he paused, his face getting red and stern, "if the court is graced with your presence a third time, there will be no leniency. No more Mr. Nice Guy. You'll end up in prison, son, which is nowhere good to be. I hope your upcoming service in the community will reinforce that in your head. So ordered." Then he banged his gavel, and I was led away by a bailiff. See, the truth was that I knew my buddy's friend was probably moving stolen goods, but I just never asked. It was an easy few hundred bucks, that's all. And I had a five-ton truck, from my day job. I didn't even look while they loaded whatever they loaded. I sat in the cab and waited. Then I drove. I'd done it before, a few times. No questions asked. Some much-needed cash in my pocket, that's all. No harm done. This time we got caught. This time I spent a few hours in the can, waiting for my brother to bail me out. I couldn't ask my parents. They'd never forgive me if they knew. Anyway, now I had community service. Luckily, it was on weekends only, so there was no effect on my job. But every Saturday and Sunday for a month-and-a-half was going to be busy. The first weekend, I was assigned with another guy to clean up the banquet hall above a suburb community center complex. It got rented out for wedding receptions and parties. We had to start at eight in the morning, and clean it. Everything. Get rid of all the garbage, mop the floors, cleanse the bathrooms, which were disgusting and had puke in them, sanitize the tables and chairs, and get it ready for the next event. Our first day, we realized there were still some unopened beer bottles, sitting on chairs or under tables. The liquor cabinets and fridges were locked, naturally, so we couldn't get into them, but finding a few Buds was cool. The other guy found a half-finished joint too, so we puffed that away. When the supervisor came back towards the middle of the afternoon, everything was spic and span, and we were more or less gooned. Anyway, that only lasted one weekend. The second weekend changed everything. I was assigned to a crew to clean up beside a highway. Pick up the garbage. There were four of us. Two other mid-twenties guys like me, and one old guy. He had to be in his fifties, or worse. We had the safety vests on, and the long-armed gripper claws, and black garbage bags. A big pickup truck dumped us off, and told us to be at some point down the road by noon, where someone would drop off some food and drink for us. Then we'd do the next mile or so in the afternoon. The first day was miserable. It was hot, and muggy, and there were mosquitos and all sorts of other bugs. But we cleaned up all the garbage. The lunch was soggy sandwiches and bottles of water, but at least they were something. The second day put us on a stretch that included a rest area in a huge park, with exits on and off the major highway. There were picnic tables, and public washrooms, and areas for campers to dump their tanks, and trails for people to walk or run or cycle. There were lots of trails. When we got there, the guy in charge gave us maps, and told us to do the bigger trails, and not worry about the smaller ones. He figured it should take us all day. We all got given some unexpected supplies. One can of bear spray. The guy told us it works on lots of animals, not just bears. Cougars, wolves, raccoons, deer. He snickered when he said we'd probably see at least one of those animals. Maybe more. We were each given an air-horn too. He told us to use it if we were being attacked by something wild. Then he gave us a short speech. "Oh yeah," he said, turning to leave, "and watch out for the homos." I glanced at one of the other guys, with the WHAT? look on my face. He must have seen it. "Some of the smaller trails, some of the grown-over trails, well, apparently the homos like to gather there, and do their homo stuff." THEIR HOMO STUFF? What did that mean? "It's unnatural, it's indecent, and it's against the laws of God," he continued, "so blast your air horn and scare the shit out of them. Just the thought of being exposed as fags will get them running away!" He giggled to himself. "But don't get too close," he warned, "or they might turn you homo too." Then he left. The two other young guys headed off in different directions. The old guy looked at me, shrugged his shoulders, and started off on his own trail. I saw one to my left, and started working. Surprisingly, this section was quite clean. I didn't find much to put in the bag. As I was walking, a couple of joggers came running by, and they nodded. A short time later I saw a really old couple, probably in their seventies or eighties, arm in arm, sauntering at almost zero miles an hour towards me. I smiled at them and they smiled at me. They looked devoted to each other. My path was winding, left and right and left, and had a few slight uphill climbs. I went for a long time without hearing or seeing any people. Then a guy on a mountain bike blew by me, just about knocking me over. By the time I turned to yell at him, he was already out of earshot, way down the trail from where I'd come. So I just stood there. I was kinda pissed, because I had a bunch of harsh words I wanted to spew, no doubt motivated by my own shame at my own stupidity for having been sentenced to this work in the first place. I was going to dump a lifetime's pile of anger on that guy. Then off to my right, two men came out of the forest. They had to stoop and shuffle under some hefty branches and between thorny shrubs to do it. The noises that generated were what made me look. One was taller than the other, maybe in his forties, and the shorter guy was much younger, maybe late teens/early twenties. They stopped and stood facing each other, very close. They were staring at each other. I saw the older guy's lips move, but he must have been whispering because I couldn't hear his voice. The younger guy nodded, enthusiastically, and had a huge smile on his face. He was wearing a dark hoodie, and shiny baggy athletic shorts, like basketball players wear, that come down to just above their knees. This guy's knees looked abraded. Rough. Recently rubbed. Almost raw. For the longest time, they just stared at each other. They were standing really close, and the young guy had to look up. I don't know why, but I got the impression that there was huge amount of emotional attachment between the two of them. It struck me that if it was a guy and girl, by the way they were staring at each other I'd say they were deeply in love. The next second, my heart just about exploded out of my chest, when the older guy leaned down, and kissed the younger guy. On the lips. It wasn't like a European thing either. No quick touch-and-go. This was a full-on, passionate romantic kiss. It staggered me. It completely blew my mind. I dropped the bag. The noise wasn't huge, but it was enough that they heard me. Both their heads snapped towards me, and the next second the taller older guy just turned and walked away so fast he was almost running from me, sprinting from the younger guy he'd just kissed. Who just stood there, staring at me, the dreamiest most serene look on his face. And the way he was standing, slightly turned towards me now, made me realize that he was horny as hell. There was a noticeable lump in his shorts. The guy was sporting a boner. Then the glassy-eyed look slowly left him, and then reality slowly set in, and then he went slowly red-faced, and quickly walked past me, on the far side of the trail, the widest path possible to stay away from me, and then skedaddled back towards the parking area. He looked back once at me, to see if I was still staring at him. I was. The look on his face had staggered me. I'd never seen a human being that peaceful, that dreamy, and that blotto. From a kiss. A kiss from another male. Strangely, I wasn't repulsed. Truth be told, it made me wonder what that might be like. Kissing another man. For some strange reason, the visual of the tall older guy leaning down to kiss me soaked into my brain, saturating my vision with the day-dreamy image. His lips on mine, his arms around me. Holding me, protecting me, loving me. I realized that I was breathing hard, like I was doing something very physical. I also realized that I was sporting a boner of my own. There in the woods, doing my community service, having watched two guys kiss, two guys who obviously had some sort of connection. I had a boner. I was sexually aroused. I rocked back on my heels, and my whole body reeled and keeled a little bit. I had to give my head a shake and come out of it, just to make sure I didn't fall down. I was woozy. I thought about heading on again, up the trail. Back to work. Then I looked at where they'd come out of the forest, at the growth they'd gone through. I realized I could see that behind the little copse of trees and shrubs there could be a clear path, a small not-so- wide trail, what the guy had said was grown-over. Where the homos might be. Was it? For a few moments, my brain argued with itself. Did I want to go and look? Maybe. Should I get back to the court-appointed task? Probably. But then again, was I being supervised? Heck no! Would anyone know if I didn't work the full eight hours out here? No. Was there any risk of ruining the deal, having the judge get mad at me and actually sentence me to jail time? Not that I could tell. I walked over to the over-grown entrance, and slipped and shimmied my way past all the vegetation. And I was right, behind all that, about ten or twelve yards in, it cleared out. The path was grassy, with little splotches of plain dirt here and there, but it was an obvious trail. I could see old hiking boot prints. I put the garbage bag down, between two trees, so I could find it again in a hurry. I kept the extended gripper claws, for some reason. Then I wondered. Was the old guy having us on? Was there actually any chance that there was gay stuff going on in the woods? I tried to reason with myself. On many levels, it sounded preposterous. It sounded ridiculous. It sounded like a joke, like he was pulling my leg. I tip-toed a few paces forward. If there was anybody here, which I was more or less convinced there wasn't, I didn't want them to hear me approaching. Yes, it was labor-intensive to creep along, ninja-like, rather than just walking normally, but I figured if nothing else I'd get some kicks at having snuck around like a spy. Then I wondered if I might be sneaking right into the paws of a bear. I put my right hand on my can of spray, still in the belt clip. Just in case. A few paces turned into a dozen. That dozen doubled. Then it tripled. I was going slowly, and silently. Maybe forty or so paces into the woods, I made up my mind that either I was the victim of a prank, or that maybe the 'homos' didn't come out to play on Sundays. Maybe it was the 'homo' day of rest. Maybe there was something about it in the bible. I stopped at one point and gave up. I heard the clich?d voice of a cop in my head. 'Nothing to see here. Move along!' I turned my head, getting ready to head back, when I heard a moan. A man's moan. It was muffled, and breathy. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt a shiver go down my spine, the biggest shiver I'd ever felt. It warbled and weebled through me, causing me to twitch, like someone suffering from a seizure. My Nana used to say shivers like that was someone walking over my grave, wherever that might end up being in the world. This felt like a small city of people had walked over it. I heard a moan again, the same muffled and breathy sound. It lasted longer this time. I crept forward, one stride at a time, slowly putting my foot down each time as quietly as possible. A few steps later, I heard two moans, two distinctly different voices. One was the same guy. The other was a new voice, less raspy and yet also strained, like it was trying to get some air into the lungs while making noise at the same time. I heard a bit of a gasp, and then what sounded like someone doing an over-exaggerated swallow. Then the first voice spoke. "C'mon," he said, "don't stop." I took two more noiseless steps forward, and then I had to stop moving, because it felt like I'd been hit in the head with a two-by- four. I heard the unmistakeable wet sounds of sucking, like a person trying to get in the thickest frostiest milkshake ever made. There was lip- smacking and tongue-slurping noises, and appropriately timed huge sudden intakes of air sounds. The clarity of it meant I was close, and also meant that I could hear every little squelch and liquidy sibilance, every swallowing motion followed by a breathing-in-through- the-nose sound. I felt dizzy, all the blood that should be in my head racing instead for my groin. My boner was now a full-fledged hard-on. A major stiffy. An erection to end all erections. I was as hard as steel in my pants. And then I thought, but why? What about all this is turning me on? I mean, number one, I'm not gay. I'm not a 'homo'. I've never done anything like that with another guy and I've never even considered it. I've watched my fair share of porn, sure, but while I see the guys and their big cocks and their oiled-up throbbers I've always paid way more attention to the women. Naked, or even better nearly-naked, clad only in sexy lingerie. Their shiny lips wrapped around cocks. Their tits, sometimes held together so cocks could slide in-between. Their pussies, shiny and bald or soaking wet and hairy, all split by cocks. Even once in a while their little rosebud anuses, hairless and artificially-made wet, stretched rudely open by cocks. Then my brain started a short cavalcade of images running by me, all from vids I'd watched and jerked off to, of women taking cocks in their asses. For most of them, it looked like it was pushing the line between pain and pleasure. Many, though, looked as if they loved it. Others looked like they were putting up with it not for the actual sexual joy it brought them, but just the pleasure they got going through the experience. I seemed to focus on the ones that looked like they were enjoying it. Those ladies did really seem to like it. Was it possible, I wondered, if that young man I'd just seen on the trail kissing the older guy enjoyed cocks up his ass? Then I wondered something I'd never imagined wondering ever. What was that like? What would it feel like to have a cock up my ass? Would it hurt? Or would it make me look like those women, the ones that really seemed to like it? "Mmmmm," I heard the first voice say again, in a languorous way, "fuck, you are a great cocksucker." He put a lot of emphasis on the word 'great', like he wanted to stress how much. Great or not, all I heard was 'cocksucker'. Who moaned his approval. I assumed at both the doing of and the being called therein. Cocksucker. Was that why the younger man's knees looked roughed up? Had he been, you know, sucking the older man's cock? I wished right then and there that I had a time machine, and I could have spun the 'Way Back' dial to half an hour ago. Then I could have seen for myself what was going on. I leaned closer to some branches, took another couple of silent steps, and came face-to-face with this new reality. The first moaner was a guy who looked a little like Jimmy Kimmel, the talk show host, but fat, leaning up against a tree, his pants around his ankles, a different guy on his knees, sucking Jimmy's cock. They were about ten feet away from me, both of them far too engrossed with what they were doing/having done to them to hear me, or care about me even if they did hear me. Then it struck me that if the 'homos' came here for public fun, that maybe it was implicit in the deal that others might be watching. Maybe these two got off on that. Either way, the guy on his knees was going to town on Kimmel's dick. Great fluid motions of his head had him slurping up and down on the big shaft, exaggerated plunges making that cock disappear and then reappear in front of me. Kimmel had one hand in the other guy's hair, his fingers tight, gripping and maybe even controlling part or all of the action. My cock was so hard in my denim workpants that it was hurting me. Watching porn on the Net was one thing. This was in a class by itself. Live sex. Human beings actually expressing their most primal and base instincts, without shame or regret, to the exclusion of everyone and everything else on the planet. Involuntarily, my right hand just moved to my pants, and I quietly unzipped them. Reaching in, my fingers touched my hard-on, through my underwear. I instantly rued wearing them. I watched, transfixed on the graphic and surreal demonstration in front of me. And kneeling man was speeding up now, the in and out faster, the gasps from Kimmel louder, the machine-like movements of both of them racing, the sounds of sucking and swallowing drowning out the occasional buzz of insects or burst of wind. I'd never seen anything so stunning in all my life. I'd never seen anything so real in all my life. I don't know why, but I instantly did an inventory of my own meager sexual experiences and decided none of them had been this blatant, this visceral, or this serious. This hot. These guys weren't fooling around, they were going for it. Sucking guy had his eyes squeezed shut, clamped hard, one hand holding Kimmel's balls and one hand stroking the base of his cock, faster and faster and faster. They were racing toward something that I just knew would be big. Something that would be shattering, at least to me. I rubbed myself along with them, as best I could. I wanted to pull my penis out and masturbate, but I worried about making unnecessary noise and startling them, or being found out, or having them angry for having invaded their space. I realized at one point that I was salivating like crazy, my mouth creating pools of liquid for me to swallow. I liked it. And then, everything got disastrous, and frightening, and unexpected, and shocking, and, well, above all, funky. I heard a twig snap, from behind me. The biggest coldest scariest feeling went zooming up my spine, and then spread out through my head and body. I'd thought I'd known fear before, at various times in my twenty-six year old life, like when the cop sirens first wailed, or sitting in the jail cell with four other guys, but none of them compared to this. There was someone else in the forest. All my skin erupted in goose bumps. The shivering I'd experienced earlier came back, with a vengeance. For a few moments, I seriously worried about being assaulted, or worse, by some offended stranger in the woods. I wondered what my family would think, if I was to be found one day, my remains strewn into the depths of the park. In less than two or three seconds, I was more frightened than I'd ever been. When I get scared, I have the tendency to hunch my shoulders and try to fold myself in on myself. I realized quickly that that was exactly what I was doing now. Tears came to my eyes. I wanted to cry, I was so abjectly afraid. All of which ramped up by a thousand percent a moment later, when I heard more twigs snapping underfoot, and grass being stepped on, and then felt the presence of someone directly behind me. I waited for the knife to plunge into my spine, or the bullet to crash through my skull. I could feel breath on the back of my neck. I was never more scared in my life. "Whatcha watching?" a deep voice breathed quietly into my right ear. I couldn't move. I certainly couldn't talk. Forming words? Not possible. He was close enough to me that I could probably smell him on the pheromone level. I somehow knew his head was above and behind me, moving, trying to spy through the branches and see what I was watching. Trying to see what was making me rub my own penis, in public, in the woods. He must have found a view he liked, because I sensed his movements stopping. My senses told me he was very close to me. Within inches, I thought. "Mmmmm," he whispered, "that looks like fun, doesn't it?" I still had no bravery for answering. My voice would have been that of a frightened little child, if I could make any sounds at all. Involuntarily, I nodded. Kimmel and the sucking guy hadn't heard us, or if they had it didn't matter. Sucking guy picked up the pace again. The mystery man behind me whisper-moaned again, quietly, his voice smooth and warm. "Oooooh yeah," he whispered, "somebody's getting a mouthful soon. Is that sexy, or what?" Rationalization comes quick, and I decided that since I wasn't dead yet, that maybe I might survive this. But I'm not a big guy, and I'm not a tough guy, and I've only ever been in three fist fights in my whole life and I lost all of them, and the way we were positioned in the forest, I just knew that there was no escape for me. My only egress was away from the lovers, but the mystery man was behind me, cutting that off. I furiously tried to think on my feet, hoping for a clever option to spring to mind. Then, the weirdest thought occurred to me. My cock was still ramrod hard. Even in my cowardly fear. Then I sensed him getting closer to me. I could feel his breath again, on the left side of my neck. Practically touching me. "You ever do that?" he asked, breathily. "You ever suck a cock like that?" I shivered and shook my head. "Too bad," he whispered, "you don't know what you're missing." He was right, of course. Then I realized that I had been thinking about it. I had. The whole time I'd been watching them, I was imagining that it was me on my knees, my mouth full of another man's hard cock, sucking away. I didn't see myself on the receiving end of the blowjob. I pictured myself as the giver. It came completely naturally to me. If I hadn't been interrupted, I would have been alongside kneeling guy, in spirit. Working that cock, slurping and sucking on it, faster and faster, building up to that release, that torrent of cum shooting out, the strained sounds of Kimmel wafting through the forest, knowing it was me that made him explode. But I was so scared, still. I needn't have been. The next thing I knew, I felt a big hand on my bum cheek, my right one. He was touching me, gripping me slightly, squeezing me, and caressing me. A MAN WAS FONDLING MY BUM! Then his other hand snaked between my arm and my body, and slid onto my quivering belly, underneath my reflective safety vest. His hand was warm. My goosebumps swelled again, all my nervous system on high alert. I was swimming in uncharted waters here, my head so far under the surface that drowning appeared to be my only option. He pulled me slightly, and the hand that had been caressing my ass slid around, straight onto my crotch. His body was behind me, and he pulled me back into him. I felt him, there in the woods. His front, pressed against my back. His chest, against my upper back. His legs against the back of my legs. His groin, up against the top of my buttocks, and my lower back. I felt something like a steel pipe poking against me. It was almost enough to make me lose it, in my own pants, but I fought the feeling with everything I had. My hand was still inside my open zipper, my fingers tracing the slightly-less-than-average length of my erection through my underwear. This man was touching me, on the outside of my pants, his fingers rubbing my erection and my fingers, teasing me. I was on the cliff now, looking down into the angry ocean, trying to decide whether I should jump to my eternal doom or run away screaming. He didn't give me the choice. The very next second, I felt his lips on the left side of my neck, just below my earlobe. One kiss, very soft, and very quick. Then his lips grabbed onto my earlobe, and pulled slightly. I felt his tongue tip playing with me. I could feel his breath, snorting out of his nose right into my ear. Then I heard a little growl in him, rising up from the depths of his big torso, still being quiet so as not to disturb the action in front of us. "I bet you'd like to suck my cock like that, wouldn't you, sweetie?" I watched the kneeling and sucking guy going to town, really all in now. His head bobs were fast and furious, and every time he came up I saw Kimmel's shaft, wetter and wetter each time, and sucking guy would sometimes let the head pop out of his mouth and he'd take a big lungful of air before diving back onto the cock again, slithering it into his throat as he bobbed downwards. My guy's right hand was rubbing my erection harder, through my pants. His left hand had moved up and he was cupping my right breast, his big finger searching for and then finding my nipple, which he rubbed really hard, which caused it to fill with blood and stand up, which spurred him to grip it with that finger and his thumb and squeeze, which caused me to moan, under my breath. Which should have caused both Kimmel and sucking guy to hear us. And I was still watching, and neither of them seemed to notice. Maybe Kimmel's eyes flicked over to us, maybe they didn't. He was making a lot of "mmmmm"'s and "aaahhh"'s, so it could have just been reflexive motions. He was close to spurting. Even with my limited sexual experience, I could tell. My guy squeezed my nipple again, harder. His lips and tongue were back on the side of my neck, kissing and licking. His other hand rubbed me in my pants even harder. I slipped my own hand out of my open zipper, and had enough space to move my arm, and I tried to use it to push the guy away from me. Instead, when I slipped it behind me, my grasping fingers landed on his thigh, near his crotch. Skin on skin. He wasn't wearing clothes, as far as I could tell. He was hairy. I heard him murmur his approval. Then he shifted his lower body to the right. My fingers were touching his upper thigh one second, and then the next second I was touching his hairy round testicles. I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. He must have sensed or known that I was a newbie, that I was in uncharted waters, that I was completely gobsmacked by everything going on. He must have realized that I was going into some sort of cataclysmic sensory overload, like a junkie who'd just shot up and was now slipping down the road to overdose and total loss of consciousness. He must have known I was about to make a whole lot of noise. His left hand moved quickly, from squeezing my nipple up to the right side of my face. His lips left my neck. He turned my face towards his, and slightly up. My eyes were shut tight, tighter than a nun's noop. The next thing I was aware of was that my face was pointed at his. I was far too afraid to look at him. What if he was hideous? What if he was someone I knew? What if there was more than just him standing there? That thought rattled back and forth in my brain cavity for about a second, stunning me, and yet thrilling me at the same time. And then the inevitable happened. The stars exploded, the universe collapsed, the Earth stopped spinning, and humankind ceased to exist. He kissed me. On my lips. His lips, big and quivering and full of lust, on top of mine. Kissing me. His right hand rubbed my penis harder, and harder still. My whole body stiffened, there in his grasp, which I think he misinterpreted as me going with his flow, so to speak. The truth was, I was too shocked to know how I felt. I was in apoplectic no man's land, completely lost. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. Nothing like this had even entered my brain as a situation I might have to face before. Nothing like this had ever seemed possible, or likely, or wanted. I didn't know what to do. Then his tongue tapped me on my lips, and without even thinking about it, or the ramifications, I opened my mouth for him. His tongue slithered inside me, and touched mine. I swooned, right there, in his arms, all my insides churning and bubbling. I was practically feinting, his lips slowly moving on mine, his tongue inside my mouth, his hand on my face, his palm caressing my cheek and jaw. I'd never been kissed like this before. It was like I was the girl, the woman, and this man was seducing me. Instead of being the leader, like I had always been with my romantic partners, I was following him. It was the best kiss I've ever had. My right hand, I realized at that exact moment, was still cradling his balls. I know mine are sensitive, so his must be too, so I began gently caressing him, out of pure instinct. He moaned into my mouth, louder now, but luck rained down on us because it was at the exact same micro-second as Kimmel's moan, which was huge and hungry and rough and ready. "FUCK!" I heard him hiss through gritted teeth, "HERE IT COMES!" Then three things happened, in order. My guy's tongue swooped deeper into my mouth, and it made me suck at him, a simple physical reaction. Kimmel began cumming, which even though my eyes were shut tight and I didn't see it I could tell because his voice went up an octave and he made sounds unlike anything I've ever heard before from any human or animal, and I could hear the other guy making the loudest and lewdest swallowing sounds, one after the other after the other after the other. My guy's hand clamped down on my erection in my pants, and I lost it. I began shooting off, fully-clothed, in the forest, flooding my own pants and underwear with my cum, full-body spasms and shakes accompanying each spurt, me moaning into his mouth and around his tongue, which I was still sucking on as hard as I could. All in all, the singular most shocking moment of my life. And all I could do, it seemed, was ride it out. I didn't even know if I knew how to do that, but nature took over, and disconnected my brain from my body, and all the years of life lessons and normal sensibilities and everything my parents had taught me about right and wrong and everything that society had forced on me about what was decency and what was moral and all the hate I'd seen over the years directed at 'fags' and 'queers' and all the other labels my peers had spewed growing up, all of it became yesterday's news. My entire life, my entire existence on the planet, all those days and nights, all of them were gone now. Past. Meaningless. This was my new reality. This was the single greatest moment of my life. The single most significant moment of my life. The single most shocking moment of my life. Kissed by another man, held by another man, fondled by another man. Orgasmed, by another man. His kiss became softer now, as I began to calm down from my ordeal. My cumming had literally been the biggest physical challenge of my life, pushing my body into areas of exertion I hadn't known existed, and now I was coming back to life, like a survivor, having gone over Niagara Falls without the barrel, and having lived through the crash landing. He broke our kiss, for a second, and whispered to me. "Good girl." His balls were in my palm, and my fingers were touching the base and shaft of his cock. He was so much bigger than me. A few moments of admiration for him, being impressed at his size, and the feel and heat of him on my skin filled me with sensory considerations I didn't know in my previous life had even been possible. I'd never once thought about what it would feel like to hold another man's genitalia in my hands. I liked it. Then, all the feelings and life-altering joy I had just gone through came crashing down around me. The post-orgasmic glow petered out and died. I opened my eyes, in shock and horror, and saw his eyes, dark and steamy and alive with energy, looking down into mine. This man, this complete stranger, who had been kissing me. His lips were soft, and strong, and suddenly blanketing mine again, his tongue swooping into my mouth again, his kiss never-ending as I struggled through the denouement of the biggest cum of my life. Shame ran through me. I felt it rising, from my toes on up. I suddenly felt and heard all the hatred, all the gay-bashing I'd witnessed in my life, growing up, boys being boys and demeaning anyone who was different. Now I was one of them, one of the targets of all that hate, standing in this forest, wrapped from behind by a guy I'd never met before, who had just made me cum in my pants, while watching some other guy get a blowjob from yet another guy. Fight or flight. I flew. I pulled myself out of my man's arms, and bolted. I made more noise than a herd of bears, or coyotes, or cougars. I stomped and ran without any concern for anyone or anything, fully aware that everything from my crotch on down was wet, sticky and cooling and slithering wherever gravity would take it. I began crying, the tears flowing out the sides of my eyes as I found the trail and burst through the trees and shrubs back onto the main trail. My face got scratched by some of the shrubbery, one of them stinging and probably bleeding, but I didn't care or slow down. I passed right by the garbage bag I'd dumped, but I still had the gripper claws in my left hand. I ran. I cried and ran. I raced past two young girls, maybe nine or ten years old, walking a dog on a leash. I sped around them and tried not to let them see the stain in my pants or hear my sobs. I ran back to the main parking lot, mindlessly, not thinking about what I would find there. People. Lots of them. It was a rest area. There were families at the picnic tables, having their lunches. There were kids running around, being kids. There were some teenagers throwing a Frisbee around. There were campers with their doors open, a couple of them with portable barbeques set up, the smell of cooking hot dogs and hamburgers wafting everywhere. There were a couple of granny-types, one of them smoking a cigarette, just standing by the women's washroom side of the only building on the site, chatting. They both looked up at me, as I came barrelling in. I saw one of them look down at my groin, her eyebrows knitting in concern, before she looked back up at my eyes. She was judging me, I knew. She wasn't sure what had happened, I reasoned, but she could see the darkness of the stain in my clothes, and she must have thought I'd peed my pants. If only she knew the real story. I ran as fast as I could and slipped in the men's side of the building. There were three stalls and three urinals, all empty. I ran into an open stall and slammed the door shut, locking it. My cheeks were wet with my tears, which hadn't yet stopped. I was gulping down air, from the running, and from my sobbing. I plopped myself down on the toilet bowl and cried. Sobbing. What the hell was wrong with me? What the hell did I just do? Where the hell was my brain? What in the name of god was happening to me? I'm not a gay! I practically screamed it to myself, in my head. I'm not one of them! But... Holy shit, I thought, that was without question the biggest cum of my life. I've never had anything like that, ever. It was like spending your whole life only ever eating kale, and thinking it was pretty good, and then finding out there are other vegetables, and they all taste better. NO! I'm not a fag. I'm not. My breathing was coming back to normal, and the tears had slowed down on my cheeks. I stopped my panicking for a second, and rationalized to myself, trying to let the logical part of my brain take over. I'm not gay, but there's nothing wrong with other people if they are. But I'm not. Right. But man, that guy sure could kiss. NO! I'm not, well, I'm not that way. I'm not. But holy cow, that guy giving the blowjob sure seemed to be enjoying it. I mean, of course the guy getting one was enjoying it. Who wouldn't, right? But I could see the guys face, his eyes shut tight, a look of total concentration and total joy spread across his countenance, as he made love to another man's penis with his mouth and throat. He was loving it. AND THE SOUNDS!!! The sounds of the guy sucking! All the slurping and wet noises! AND OH MY FUCKING GOD THE SOUNDS OF THE GUY SWALLOWING ALL THAT CUM...SHOT AFTER SHOT, SWALLOW AFTER SWALLOW! Remember? It was only minutes ago, remember? You wanted to be on your knees, I told myself. You wanted to be beside that guy. You admitted to yourself, in spirit, that you WERE with that guy. Your mouth had watered unlike any other moment in your life! NO! It was a one-time thing, that's it. I got caught up in the moment. Total confusion. Anybody could have made the same mistake. Was it a mistake? That was the best kiss I've ever had. REMEMBER? NO! I unbuckled and unzipped and slid my jeans down, using wads of toilet paper to blot up the fresh drying cum I could see, and then realized I had to take my boots off. A few awkward movements later, I was peeling off my underwear, which was absolutely soaking in cum. I used one of my spare garbage bags, and threw them inside, along with more wads of toilet paper that I used to wipe most of my lower body off with. The smell was overpowering, both shaming me and arousing me again. My tears stopped soon after, and I allowed my jeans to dry as best they could before I put them back on. It was almost lunch time, and the boss would be back any moment, and I'd need to show up. There was a sheen of sweat on my face as I looked at myself in the mirror, and after a quick wash from the tap, I grabbed the smelly garbage bag and headed out. The sandwiches were just as bad as the day before but we ate them. The other three guys had collected way more garbage than I had, and the boss man questioned me on it, but I swore to him that I went up so-and-so trail and it was pretty clean. He sent me on a different trail for the afternoon, and I spent the entire time picking up garbage and replaying my morning in my head. Over and over and over again. In vivid detail. Shame. Exhilaration. Remorse. Joy. Anxiety. Wonderment. I bounced back and forth, from the lowest of low feelings to the highest of highs. I loved it. I shouldn't love it. It was wrong. It was the best kiss, well, ever. It violated so many public laws. I'd never had an orgasm that intense with any woman. There's some truly fucked-up people out there who would hurt me if they suddenly found out I was gay, just for kicks. I was on my knees, in spirit, sucking that cock and swallowing all that cum. Many times, the intensity of the experience stopped me in my tracks. An hour in, and I'd barely made it a hundred yards up this new trail. I didn't meet any more 'homos'. I was a zombie when I got home. I threw the jeans down the garbage chute in my apartment building. They smelled funky, of course, and again I was aghast and aflame all at the same time. I spent the whole evening doing nothing, literally. Staring at the wall. Reliving every second of it, in slow motion and instant replay. In the most explicit hi-def resolution. Sitting on my ratty couch, in my housecoat, I realized early on that I still had enormous amounts of shame about my actions today. I also realized that my cock was harder than it had ever been in my whole life. I knew that if I'd touched it, I would have erupted. Again. Monday morning I called in sick to work. I hadn't slept much, tossing and turning, doing nothing but remembering, and mindlessly masturbating for hours, so I would have been a danger to the world, driving a big truck. Then I spent the whole day doing nothing, and staring at the same wall, remembering. And masturbating. Edging myself. Close to the explosion but always backing off. It was draining. Reliving all those moments, so much more exhilarating and intense than any other time I'd ever had, sexual or otherwise, pulling me deeper and deeper into a bizarre topsy-turvy situation. From the lowest of lows to the highest of highs. To be honest, there were more lows than highs. But what amazed me was that the lows came on slowly, and crept up like the night coming in. The highs arrived with thunder and lightning, announcing themselves, proud and strong. At one point I looked at the clock and it was close to five in the afternoon, and I realized to even more shame that I'd spent close to the last twenty-four hours doing nothing but watching myself have gay sexual experiences in my head and jerking off. It was like watching movies. Sometimes it was from my original point of view, the first person. Other times, it was from differing angles, as if a Hollywood director had filmed it. Everything. The Kimmel guy, the sucking guy, the guy behind me, being held, being kissed, being rubbed. Blasting off inside my own pants. Running away, frightened. Frightened of what had happened, and equally scared of how much I liked it. How much I'd never felt so alive. Like a drug, that didn't seem to have any bad side effects. I was exhausted, mentally. I was erect, constantly. It was the most insanely best orgasm I'd ever had. Tuesday I called in sick again. The boss said if it lasted for a third day I'd need a doctor's note. Again, I sat and stared and edged for the entire day. The highs and lows were about even. So on Wednesday I went to work. He took one look at me, a shivering weak-limbed nervous wreck, and told me to go home and take the rest of the week off and get myself better. Thursday and Friday were repeats of Monday and Tuesday. Always reliving the kiss, and the way the man held me, and how sexy the sucking guy looked while he was sucking. I couldn't get the sounds of Kimmel's orgasm out of my ears. It was totally unbridled, completely unfettered, all-out, and primal. It shook me to my core. Thursday was just slightly more highs than lows. Friday was almost all highs. The shame I'd been feeling off and on since Sunday was barely noticeable. Almost all of my thoughts were on how incredible the entire experience had been. How fantastic that guy could kiss. How amazing it must be to suck a cock, and get rewarded with blasting cum. And, dare I think it, how it might also be incredible to have a cock inside me, inside my body. Inside my ass. Would it be called my pussy? Late on Friday, I called the number and spoke to the bailiff boss, telling him I wasn't feeling well, and that I'd missed every day of work this week, probably because of a bug or a virus or something, and maybe I shouldn't go to my court-appointed community service tomorrow, in order to protect him and my fellow workers. He told me he'd see me at the office, bright and early at quarter to eight. The old guy had either finished his debt to society, or was AWOL, because it was just the other two younger guys and me. Boss man took us out, fully equipped, to the same rest area on the same highway. He told me to try a few different trails today, to see if I could do a better haul than last week. The other guys disappeared away from me, and the boss man pointed west and nodded his instructions. I started walking, the gripper claws in my hand, and several black garbage bags folded up in the pockets of my reflective safety vest. The belt with the bear spray and air horn was heavy. I told myself there was no way in hell I was going up that same trail today. Despite the fact that I was pretty much ninety-five percent seeing the highs, the five percent kept telling me NO! It was a one-off. It was just one of those weird things, moments that happened without control and would never happen again. Something I'd never mention to anyone, ever. My feet didn't listen. As I approached the turn in the trail, where the over-grown entrance was, I stopped. I stared at it, trying to see beyond and through, to see if there were humans there. Men. Horny men. Men like the guy who wrapped me in his arms and kissed me like I was his lover. Lover. I realized I'd never had one of those before. I'd had sex. I'd had intimate relations with women. They were fun. In retrospect, I realized, they were nerve-wracking as well, because of the enormous pressure to perform well and make the women happy. And I wasn't always successful at that. Hardly ever, when I was truly honest with myself. But my orgasms were fun. I'm not sure any of the women I'd bedded would include me on their top-ten best of all-time list. In retrospect, I'm not sure any of them would have included me on any list. And for me, I used to have a list. I did have a certain pecking order of favorites, nights in the sack that I remembered with fondness and glee. Sex sessions that I had thought, at the time, were truly memorable. I realized I was having a hard time recalling any of them now. They all paled in comparison to last Sunday. That day I'd had what I'd never thought I would ever possibly have in my life: romantic and sexual experiences with another man, while watching other men do the same. Horny men. And it hit me. I'm a horny man too. Right? Is that possible? I'd just spent an entire week more or less reliving that day. And it had consumed me. It had taken over my life, to a large extent. Every single minute of every single day, every sight and sound and smell, every nuance and minor detail. All of it, now gone over and re- experienced so many times that they felt like the building blocks of my life. And yes, there was still that small part of my brain that kept saying, "NO! IT WAS AN ABBERATION. IT WAS WRONG. IT WAS NOT WHO YOU ARE!" But standing there looking at those trees and shrubs again, that small part of my brain was being smothered, by the much larger part of my consciousness that was screaming, "YOU LOVED IT! IT WAS THE MOST EXTREME MOMENT OF YOUR LIFE! ALL THE SEX YOU EVER HAD WITH WOMEN WAS LIKE NOTHING COMPARED TO HIS KISSES, HIS TOUCH!" And of course, there was the one thought in my head that I couldn't deny no matter how hard I tried. 'I WAS WITH THE SUCKING GUY, IN SPIRIT. DOWN ON MY KNEES, MY MOUTH WET AND HUNGRY, LONGING TO SUCKLE THAT COCK, TO ORALLY PLEASE THAT COCK.' Every memory in life, sexual or not, played second fiddle to that thought. I had been on my knees, in spirit. There was no arguing against it. I'd wanted it. My mouth was watering again. My brain, suddenly overwhelmed with non- sensical thoughts, tried to come up with any reason to go into that maelstrom again. What would I use to justify my actions this time, intellectually? I struggled for about three or four minutes. Then I saw my answer. If I peered hard enough, I could see a candy bar wrapper on the ground, about six or seven feet in from the overgrown entrance to the trail. It was a Mars bar. And I was here to clean up the forest, wasn't I? I was paying my debt to society for my crimes with this important community service. If I was honest with myself, I ventured, I should do the very best job I could. I should endeavour to make the forest as clean as possible, for everyone who uses these trails, and all the animals too. It was my job. Yeah. That's it. That's the ticket. And besides, I told myself, I'll just wade in, grab the garbage, clean up the trail for whoever uses it, and leave again. I have discipline. Once my gripper claws had grabbed the wrapper and deposited it in a big black bag, I sort of turned to leave. Sort of. In my mind, I was turning to leave. I was. Turn, and leave, I told myself. Then I spotted an old Kleenex, or something like that, another few feet on, half-buried under leaves and twigs. Then I spotted a condom wrapper further in. Condoms. Used for sex. Used for protection. Against unwanted pregnancies. And sexually transmitted diseases. Used by straight guys, of course. The world over. But, I knew, they were also used by gay guys. Gay men. Men who loved other men. Like my man. The one who held me, and kissed me, and made me explode. I didn't even know his name. Not that names are important, mind you. I barely knew what he looked like, from a few moments when I'd opened my eyes, as he was kissing me. He was handsome. Masculine. Rugged, in a somebody's-athletic-dad kinda way. He was the best kisser I ever met. There were lots of things I couldn't deny about last Sunday, and one of them was that. And oh yes, one of them was in spirit I'd been on my knees with sucking guy. And yes, all the kisses I'd ever had in my life were like nothing, compared to my male lover. My one-and-only homosexual experience. So far. I stepped further into the trail, quietly. Part of me hypothesized that perhaps the 'homos' move around, and never use the same place too often in a row, to keep any prying eyes like mine away, and to stay one step ahead of lurking law enforcement or judgemental assholes. Maybe, right? I thought, it's entirely likely there will be absolutely not one living breathing soul here. They'd be somewhere else in the vast park, for safety sake. Surely? For the longest time, I was right. There was nothing, and nobody, wherever I looked. I ventured further in than last week, as the limited trail became more and more overgrown the deeper I got. I saw some stepped-on cigarette butts, and mentally castigated whoever was stupid enough to be smoking in a gosh-darned forest. Like, hello? I saw a few crushed roaches too, the last little bits of joints. It made me realize that although there wasn't anybody here today, there had been traffic through here in the past. Guys smoking doobage while having gay sexual encounters. I remembered that I really liked doobage. And now, I admitted to myself, I really liked the gay sex I'd had too. As limited as it was, to only kissing and touching. I almost screamed out loud when I turned, to head back to the main trail. My heart just about stopped at the same time. All my breath caught in my lungs. There he was. Standing, waiting for me to see him. He had the goddamned biggest smile on his face that I'd ever seen on another human being. He was taller than me, and older than me. He did in fact look like somebody's dad, darkish hair sprinkled with gray bits, dark eyes that seemed to sparkle with delight, and really tanned skin. He was wearing a white t-shirt with the blue number four on the front, and dark track pants, like professional basketball players wear, with the stripes down the outside of the legs. He froze me. I didn't know what to do, or what to say, or how to act, or what the procedures were. Were there rules of the road when it came to this? I was suddenly shaking again, nerves and jitters bubbling up louder and louder, trying to grasp from the ether if there were any pre-set operating regulations involved here. Here, of course, being gay sexual encounters in the forest. That realization hit me hard. Public gay sex. I mean, let's be real. That's why I'd ventured in here. Not to clean up the forest, no. That had been my cover story, sure, my rationalization. But standing there, looking at this guy who had in many ways taken my virginity last week, I knew, deep in my heart, that I was here for less than magnanimous reasons. Less than altruistic reasons. And then it was like the old clich?. On one shoulder was my angel, the good me. On the other shoulder was my devil. The bad me. They were having an argument. A debate. YOU WANT IT. YOU SHOULDN'T. HE'S THE BEST KISSER YOU'VE EVER HAD. IT'S GAY, AND WHILE THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT, IT'S NOT YOU. YOU'VE JUST SPENT EVERY SECOND OF EVERY DAY FOR AN ENTIRE WEEK DREAMING OF DOING IT AGAIN. IT WAS A ONCE-IN-A-LIFETIME THING. NO ONE NEED EVER KNOW. HE HELD YOU, LIKE A LOVER, AND KISSED YOU, LIKE HIS LOVER. YOU'RE HERE TO WORK, TO CLEAN UP THE FOREST FOR FUTURE GENERATIONS TO ENJOY. DOING ANYTHING ELSE WOULD BE A BETRAYAL OF YOUR MISSION. IT WAS THE GREATEST KISS OF YOUR LIFE. IT WAS THE GREATEST CUM OF YOUR LIFE. IT WAS THE GREATEST SEXUAL EXPERIENCE OF YOUR LIFE. WHY STOP NOW? My mouth opened, like I was about to say something. But no words came out. Those three words just tumbled in my mind, over and over again. WHY STOP NOW? He put his finger up to his lips, the universal signal to be quiet. Then he held out his hand towards me, offering it for me to take. Offering himself to me, to lead me again in discovering myself. I took three quick quiet steps towards him, and with my right hand I took his out-stretched left hand. It was so warm it was almost hot. He immediately interlaced his fingers in mine, and used his strength to pull me to him. One second we're a foot or two apart. The next second, I'm right in front of him, looking up into his face. Staring into his eyes, which were like fireballs, blazing down on me. His hand squeezed my hand even more. It made me feel connected to him, like we were a couple. He leaned his head down towards me, so his mouth was close to mine. Then he smiled, a huge beaming smile that showed how happy he was. How happy I'd made him. "I'm glad you came back," he whispered to me. I felt like jumping for joy. "Me too," I whispered in return. "I was hoping to see you here again. I decided I was going to show up today and tomorrow, just in case you're a weekend only employee." I thought about how I'd literally run out on this man, after he'd made me feel more incredible and more sensual than any other person had. Ever. Bar none. And yet part of me couldn't understand it. I was a complete rookie, not knowing what to do or how to do it. I had barely started with him, and then I'd stopped it. I'd quite literally pulled a cum-and- go. So what would inspire him to hope to see little old me again? "Why?" I asked, in our conspiratorial whisper. "Why?" he asked, incredulously. "C'mon!" Then he paused, and his eyes got serious, glaring down at mine. Then they softened, and he smiled even more. "Wasn't that the best kiss you've ever had in your life? Wasn't it? Because, the thing is," he said, and paused, searching for his words, "I've done this more than a few times now, and I can promise you, that was the best kiss I ever had. No question." My surprise must have registered on my face. "Really?" I asked. "No question," he whispered. "I don't even always kiss every guy, but with you, I had to. Something about you made me want to kiss you, and then when I did, well," he laughed, in a whispery kind of way, "I didn't want it to stop." He reached his other hand up and touched the side of my face. Gently. Then his fingers moved, as he caressed my skin. "Like I want to kiss you now." I felt a shudder run through my body. I nodded my approval, once again too nervous to speak audibly. "You're not going to run away again, are you?" he asked, genuine disappointment in his whisper. I shook my head quickly. "No," I gasped out, "no, I promise." Then he stopped and just stared at me. I felt like he was scanning my soul, through my eyes. "Was that your first time?" he asked. I nodded. I was embarrassed for some reason. He grinned, something serious. "So I got your gay kissing cherry?" I nodded again. It was the truth. Then we just smiled and stared at each other. "So, you liked it?" he whisper-asked. I found strength. After all these days of re-living the moments, replaying the video again and again, there was still one question that lingered in my mind, and it needed answering. What if my memories were skewed simply because it was so unusual, so unexpected, so completely out there, being my first time? What if the thrill I'd felt was just the whole taboo nature of a gay kiss. What if that novelty was what I was feeling? What if it was actually a one-time thing, like one part of my brain had been arguing for the last five days? What if the newness and thrill of the audacity of it was what I'd actually felt, and not genuine sensual joy? I had to find out. I squeezed the hand that was holding mine. Then I stood up on my tiptoes and did the boldest, most brazen thing I've ever done in my life. I kissed him. This time, I took the lead. This time, I was the instigator. I was the one slaking my thirst for a kiss. And then I got my answer. My lips touched his. I heard myself moan a little. I heard him moan just as much. His lips welcomed mine. They conformed to mine, and began moving with mine, and caressing mine. His lips were bigger than mine, and almost immediately began taking over, being in charge of the kiss. His free hand stopped caressing my cheek and his arm slithered down and around my body, pulling me to him, crashing our fronts together, and his big hand found my left bum cheek and he grabbed onto it like a man grabbing on to a life preserver at sea. We both seemed to want the contact, and we both started slowly grooving and grinding our fronts against each other. It felt like paradise to rub my hard-on against him. He felt like he was carrying a small tree trunk in his pants. He seemed so hard, so erect, so mind-bogglingly turned on. Because of me? His tongue touched my lips, the same way he'd done last Sunday. This time I was ready for him, waiting for him, anticipating him. My lips opened faster than a two-dollar whore's legs, and instinct made me start sucking on the tip of his tongue the very micro-second it passed my lips. I got my answer. The greatest kiss I'd ever known, from last week, withered next to this. Probably because we both wanted it this time, and I was able to rationalize it to myself. Or maybe I was just learning how to accept this new reality, this shocking twist in my life. Either way, it didn't matter. This. This was now the record-holder. Without parallel. The greatest, most intense, most staggering experience of my life. I wanted him. I wanted more. I wanted to never stop. I didn't even know his name. Our kiss became heated. Tongues were touching and sucking and dancing back and forth. Lips were steamy and hot and sticky, and our heads occasionally bounced from side to side, swapping nose angles, as the passions took us. I let go of the hand I'd been holding, and worked it between our bodies. I had to feel him. I had to feel his cock. He let out the most strained, lovely moaning sigh into my mouth as my palm found his shape, trapped as he was in his track pants. He was just as big as I'd remembered. It was like he had a living animal attached to him, and my hand was inciting the animal to move. He broke our kiss, which left us both panting and gasping, and I looked up into his eyes, which were afire with delight. "I want to show you something," he whispered, and grabbing my hand again in his, he pulled me off to one side, in between some trees and low-hanging branches. He knew where he was going, and I didn't, so I just followed his lead. Twice he stopped to use his big long arm to push or lift things out of my way, so I could duck under or around things. It made me feel like he was the man, and I was somehow his woman, his girlfriend. He was being gallant and taking care of me, making sure I wasn't harmed in any way, and that I didn't have to work or struggle to get where we were going. A few wore yards into some heavy bush, and he stopped. He leaned down and kissed me again, and I opened my mouth immediately, asking, no, begging for his tongue to take me again, to explore me again, to get into my mouth and let me suck on him again. Then he broke the kiss, and once again held his finger up to his lips. The universal signal to make no noise. Quietly and gently pushing aside a huge cedar shrub, one that totally blocked the view from the ground on up, he cleared a path for me just wide enough for us to slip through relatively untouched. Then he stopped me, and pointed away from us, and I turned to look, and I saw a paradise. An entirely 'homo' paradise, to quote the boss man. There were three other male/male couples in this small clearing. The sighs and moans and sounds were unmistakable. These were horny men, doing what horny men do. Being with other horny men. The first couple was about ten yards away from us. They were both in their forties, or maybe even fifties, as far as I could tell. Both of them were grey-haired more than dark, and both of them were naked. They were softly kissing, little busses here and there, while they held each other closely with one arm. Their other arms were busy, masturbating each other. They both had wedding rings. When they weren't kissing they were staring into each other's eyes, genuine affection and emotion obvious even to the uninitiated like me. They both heard our entrance, and for a second or two looked our way. Neither of them was particularly good-looking, I thought. In fact, they were both kind of ugly to me, with pudgy faces. Both were overweight and hairy as all get-out. They nodded at us, and one of them smiled straight at me and mouthed the word "welcome". Then they went back to kissing and masturbating each other, and staring into each other's eyes. It was that look, that dreamy stare they both had that brought tears to my eyes. The look that showed they were in total bliss. They'd freed themselves of all of the world's constraints, freed of rules, freed of propriety and rigid morals. They were unabashedly and unashamedly completely drunk on passion, high on sensuality and sexuality, junkies to the muse of love. Both of them were where they wanted to be in this world, softly kissing another open and horny man, while holding him and masturbating him. Pure unadulterated pleasure, as only people who've let go of the chains can do. Their ordinary lives outside the forest were completely forgotten. Wives, children, careers, mortgages, and all the other realities of life were no more. They were both free. The freest of all souls, it occurred to me. The world spins on around them, and nothing affects them or even distracts them from the loftiest plane of existence they can find. Loving other men, other loving men. Their look told me that they were on a different plane than most people. A different level of existence. A herd of buffalo crashing through the forest wouldn't have shaken them from each other's eyes, or lips, or hands. The second couple were too busy to notice us. One was sitting on a fallen tree, naked from the waist down, about fifty years of age or so, wearing a shirt and tie, like he'd just arrived from his job as an accountant or a lawyer or something business-related, his eyes screwed shut in concentration, his hands holding onto the head of a younger man, who was crouched down on his haunches, and was maybe in his thirties, who was clean-shaven with long hair at the back, and dressed like he might have been out for a casual stroll in the park, who was choking and gagging and making the lewdest wettest sucking sounds with the older guy's cock in his throat. Just like sucking guy from last week. And just like that, as quick as you please, once again, in spirit, I was kneeling with that guy, and sucking cock with that guy. I stopped and looked up at my man. My lover. My glee must have been written all over my face. He smiled at me, and then we kissed again, coming together again, my free hand automatically reaching for his groin. I had to feel it, I had to touch it, I had to have it. His cock, mammoth in his track pants, making a huge tent. Our tongues danced for a bit, and I sucked and sucked on his tip whenever it was fully in my mouth. I loved it, the feeling of sucking on his flesh, the act of orally pleasing him elating me more than any other single thing I'd ever done in my entire existence. And the day was still very very young! We broke our kiss, and he hugged me to him. I rested my head on his upper chest, and felt his heart beating through my cheekbone. If this was intimacy, I thought, then I want this every second of every day for the rest of eternity! I felt and heard him chuckle, and I looked up at him to see what was amusing him. He nodded his head off to our left, encouraging me to look. So I did, of course! What I saw may very well have reshaped my DNA in one single solitary moment. The two men I'd seen leaving this area last week were back. The older daddy type and the younger guy. Older daddy was naked, except for some sandals on his feet. The younger guy, even younger than me, was something else entirely. He was on his back, on a blanket spread out over the grass and weeds and leaves on the ground. His legs were spread as wide as he could spread them, and he was holding onto them and keeping them spread with his hands. The older guy was on his knees, bent over the younger guy, his elbows on the ground next to the young guys head. The older guy was sawing his very impressive-looking thick wet shiny cock into the younger guys slicked-up hairless asshole. His pussy, I realized. The older guy had a look on his face like he was a wild animal, taking his pleasure from the female of the species, pure and raw and feral. The younger guy had two things about him that I noticed immediately, each of them throwing me for the biggest loop yet. The first was the look on his face. It was a combination, of sheer intensity and abject joy. The sheer intensity was written on every pore of his face, the invasion of the cock in his body making him ride the razors edge between mind-numbing pleasure and mind-thrashing pain. The pleasure was winning, hands down. It was a look of ferocity. This young man was going through something that was pushing the limits of his normal existence on the planet, beyond anything he'd ever done before. To the exclusion of everything and everyone. I'd never seen a look like that and it was drawing me in. He was living, he was alive, he was riding an emotional and physical rollercoaster that few people could ever imagine. He was being made love to and it was sending his body and soul into something I realized few normal people could understand, or even contemplate. A higher level of experience. A higher level of enlightenment. The second thing that tore my world apart was how he looked otherwise. He'd used some sort of gel or mousse or something to style his hair in a kind-of emo/goth chick style, spiked on the top. He had lipstick on. Bright cherry red lipstick, much of it blurred and smeared above, below and around his lips. He'd been doing some serious kissing. But there was still some on him properly, and I instantly and irrevocably wanted that too. I wanted to paint my lips, I wanted to have a sexy mouth like he had. But more importantly, the rest of him surpassed everything I'd ever imagined about the definition of the word 'sexy'. He had a bra on. I was guessing he'd stolen it or something, since it didn't fit him all that well, and the bra had huge cups which had nothing in them so the lace fabric was sagging and falling in unusual shapes. But they were black, and lacy, and along with his hairless chest made him look like a gorgeous slutty sexy woman. Which I knew, down to the depths of soul, that I wanted to look like too. He had panties on too. If you could call them that. There were little more than a y-shaped strip of cloth, barely-there, and the color of a deep blue sky. His lover, his Daddy, had moved them to the side, in order to make love to him. Her. She was wearing stockings, with the elastic top at the thighs. They were a dark brown in colour, and not quite a fishnet, but a sexy pattern to the weave. With her legs spread lewdly, and the ferocious intensity of her stare, she pierced my heart and the tears that had developed in my eyes with the first couple I'd seen started just raining down my cheeks, cascading out of me, and I sobbed. The moan that came out of my mouth sounded plaintive, and mournful, and desperate. My man felt me tremble, and used one of his hands to turn my face back and up to his. "What's wrong, sweetie?" he whisper-asked. I could barely find the strength to say the words, but they had to be said. "That's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," I breathed out, "I've never seen anything so, so beautiful." He looked once more at the couple, both of them staring laser beams into the others eyes, as they bounced and bucked on the forest floor, and then he looked back down at me. The smile that came upon his face was like someone who just realized they had won a lottery. Abject glee and joy. "You're prettier than him," he whispered, "if you wanted to be." I couldn't help myself. I just started nodding, like I was in the Olympics of nodding and I was bound and determined to get the gold medal. "I want to be." He picked me up in his arms, like a groom carrying a bride, and moved us laterally into what amounted to a corner of a kidney bean-shaped clearing. There was a stump there, not all that large, and a fallen tree behind it, mostly bare from age. My man carried me to the stump, and he sat us down. Somebody had thoughtfully laid an old sleeping bag on the stump sometime ago, giving it a bit of faded cushioning. Me in his lap, my face in the crook of his neck. I could feel his lust for me, trapped underneath my bum cheeks. I could feel that my tool belt was probably poking at him. Seizing the moment, which I realized was so unlike me, or more appropriately so unlike the old me, I stepped off of him, and without taking my eyes off of his, I stripped out of my safety vest and coat, and undid my belt, unzipping and then pulling down my pants, displaying my own stiff little rod, in my boring underwear. I bent over and undid my boots, and then pulled them and my pants off. My man was staring at me the entire time. Eating me up with his eyes. I pulled my long-sleeved shirt off, and then the t-shirt underneath that off, and put my hands on the top of my underwear. I looked at him. He nodded his approval. I pulled them down, to my ankles, and kicked them off me. With just my socks on. I'd never felt so brazen! I'd never felt the intense mind-blowing rush of stripping naked in public like this, I mean, I've never even skinny-dipped, and now I was doing it in a heartbeat, right in front of this man, this man who kisses me better than anyone ever has, and who makes me feel like there's something on fire inside my body. I was shaking inside, the adrenaline and emotions rushing through my veins at warp speed. I'd never once in my twenty-six years thought about how it would feel to be naked and wild, in a small field with other naked and wild people. All of them men. All of them horny. Then he held out his hands, and gestured for me to sit on his lap again. I couldn't think of anything better. I shucked off my work socks, and at the last second, instead of sitting down across his legs like before, I put my left leg on the stump, beside him, and then I laced my fingers together behind his strong neck for support, and then I put my right foot on his other side, and then slowly lowered my ass onto his crotch. If looks could set off explosives, that forest would have been decimated. I didn't even know his name. "What should I call you?" I asked, quietly. He smiled. "Names aren't important, especially around here. It's usually something you don't ask." I felt red flushing all of my skin. "I didn't know," I whispered. He smiled and nodded and his hands rubbed my back to soothe me. "It's okay, hon. You can call me anything you like, sweetie. But," he paused, "my name is William, so most people call me Bill." I nodded. "Bill." Then his smile widened, and got wicked. "If you'd like," he whispered, "it would please me a lot if you called me 'Daddy'." And then as I settled my bum onto him, feeling his big cock trapped in his pants, hearing him groan a little, I decided that his name didn't matter to me at all. "Tell me," he whispered, conspiratorially, "what's your name?" I didn't hesitate. I told him. He shook his head. "No, babe," he smiled, "what's the name of the sexy woman inside of you? The one that wants to burst out. The one that almost cried watching that other sweet young thing having her fun?" And again, my new upon new upon new steamroller of experiences ratcheted up a notch or three. I said the first name that popped into my head, thinking of my favorite movie star. "Scarlett." Daddy grinned, like a Cheshire Cat, and then licked his lips. "Daddy?" I asked, staring into his eyes. He grinned so hard he almost choked on his own tongue. A stammer came out of his mouth, now just an inch away from mine. "Yes, Scarlett?" Out-brazening myself, on a day, hell, almost a week of being brazen, I said what I needed to say, words I would have thought impossible just seven days ago. I couldn't believe I had formed the sentence in my head. Then I couldn't understand why I'd waited twenty-six years to say it. "Daddy, will you make love with me just like that man is doing to her?" I rubbed my bottom on him, gyrating my hips to tease him, my weight moving all over his cock and balls, cramped up below me. That made him moan out loud, a deep resonant sound. "Baby doll," he whispered, "you can have anything you want." He might have had more to say at that point, but it was impossible with his tongue in my mouth again, my lips came onto his so fast, and opened for him and we just took off from where we'd stopped a few moments ago. Every second of it just became better than the last. I was experiencing levels of arousal and pleasure rushes I could never have imagined even existed. Sure, some of it was the newness of it, but my god I'd never lived on this level of joy before, being held tight by this man, my Daddy, and being kissed by him. And, come to think of it, that was the second time he'd said I was pretty. We kissed and rubbed and caressed and I always kept my bottom moving across and around his lap for a real long time. No woman I've ever been with enjoyed kissing as much as he did, and since I do too, we went at it for minute after minute. My hard little soldier was trapped between our bodies, and three different times I got so close to popping, just ready to explode out my cum, that I had to lift off of him, but it would always elicit the sexiest-sounding groan from Daddy. I almost giggled, except I had his tongue in my mouth, sucking gently on it. Finally, after I don't know how long, I broke off our kiss, and just stared at him, forehead to forehead. It was like we were talking, without saying anything. I could see all of his soul, and he could see all of mine. We were like that first couple I'd seen, the entirety of life switched off, our operating systems running purely on the passion two horny people could share. I slid myself a little bit across his legs, and lowered my head to kiss his neck, just below his ear. He breathed out heavily, like the softest loveliest sigh, and I just kept on kissing him. Then I reached down to his lap and pulled at the bottom of his t-shirt. He raised his arms up, and I pulled it off him. I tossed it somewhere behind me, I didn't care. I was too busy studying his body, memorizing his shoulders and arms and pecs and belly, how tanned they were, and how toned he was, for a guy his age, or what I presumed his age was. He had a light sprinkling of hair across his chest, and I ran my fingers through them. Now I giggled. Then I leaned further down, and took his left nipple into my mouth. "Oooh yes," he gasped, and one hand reached up to the back of my head, cradling me, offering me his nipple to suckle, making me dream of somehow being fed a mouthful of a sweet elixir. When it was big and stubbly, I moved across and sucked the other one. Then I slid off his legs totally, down onto my feet either side of his legs, crouching with my head at his belly level. I said a big "mmmmmmmmm" and then I kissed his cock, where it was poking its end in his track pants, where I noticed immediately that there was a pungent, musky odor, and there was the definite taste of something damp. His pre-cum? I stood up and got him to stand up, long enough for me to peel his track pants to the ground and then around his runners. Then he plopped himself back down on the tree stump, and I moved forward and sat back down on him again, legs either side of him, hands and arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss, while settling my naked bottom down onto his naked lap. And it was as if every new thing I did was like a video game, where I'd been rewarded with a new level of play, a new level of living. A new level of awareness, of existence. Just feeling his pubic hair against my hanging balls, his hairless belly against my straining pulsing little cock, and best of all, his rigid, solid, and as it turns out quite wet cock shaft firmly finding itself between my cheeks, pushing them up and out, expanding me. Another new level. Our kiss was soft, and sweet, and our tongues were gently dancing. His hands were running up and down my back, sometimes squeezing my ass cheeks, and sometimes cupping my head and pulling me into his kiss even more, as if he was trying to consume me. If this is love, let the feast begin! As I moved my hips in and out his cock slid in and out of my cheeks, and his moans told me that I was making him feel very good. I decided it was time I made him feel better than that. I stopped our kiss, and looked him in the eyes. "Daddy?" He nodded. "For the last week all I could think about was, day and night, that I really really want to suck your cock." I was shaking with the brutal honesty of it all. I'd said the words because they were true, but I'd never said anything so real, ever, to anyone. I couldn't have imagined, back in that courtroom, that my punishment for crime would be to find myself, to find where I wanted to be in this world, to realize that there was more to heaven and earth than the boring straight-laced teachings of society. There was real love and real passion to be had. And, the luckiest thing of all was that I'd found it! He grinned, from ear to ear. "And I want you to suck my cock too, sweetie," he replied, "as often as you like." I got down on my haunches, squatting, my body in-between his splayed legs, and I began kissing up and down his inner thighs. He had moderately-hairy legs, so there was a ton of soft downy hair in my kisses, but I loved it. Slowly, I made my way to his balls. His mighty cock was standing straight up, pointing at the sky, the head of it from this angle looking like a helmet, the shaft shiny with his love juice, so his sac was wide open for me. I took his right ball into my mouth, and just began laving it and loving it with my tongue. I gently sucked on it, feeling it tighten down but not going any more than that for fear of hurting him, and then I hummed a long "mmmm-hmmmmm", the vibrations making his hair and skin and roundness throb in my mouth. It made him moan out loud too, which was like lighting a fire with gasoline inside my brain. I switched to the left. I wanted to make sure it got the same treatment, including the humming, which sent rivers of thrills through me. Finally, I brought my tongue up, and starting at the very base of him, I licked a solid wet line all the way up to the tip of him. Amazed and enthralled at the taste of his skin. I kept my tongue going over top of his head, turned my head, and as if I'd been doing it my entire life, I took the entire enflamed head of his cock into my mouth and closed my lips around it, bathing it with my tongue, salivating all over it, swishing whatever liquids I could find, including a slow steady stream of pre-cum from him, all over him. I realized I was humming again. Loudly. I was loving it! And, the vibrations throughout my sinuses and throat seemed to ripple right down his shaft and into his soul, because he hissed out a giant, "OOOOOOOH FUCK YESSSSSSSSSSSSS!" and then the next thing I knew about four or five inches of his shaft came forcefully into my mouth, pushing him right into the opening of my throat, and then some. Which I was not ready for. I automatically choked, my lower body spasming in a retch, and my windpipe flexed, trying to open in some way to get air in, and all that resulted in was a short sharp gasp from me, breathing in a tiny bit of oxygen, and then another inch or so of his cock ramming further into me. I felt his pubic hair, tickling my cheekbones and jaw. HE WAS ALL THE WAY INSIDE ME! I looked up at him, my eyes about as wide as garbage can lids, and he stared down at me, love and passion and joy and wonder and intensity and determination all there, as we wordlessly met again, soul to soul. He pulled himself out of me, and I gasped some breath in, and then he slid himself back in me, and my throat opened for him again, and I just swallowed and swallowed and swallowed the way you would if you had something stuck in your throat. Which I did. A few seconds of worry about getting enough air to breathe went away, and to my astonishment I found myself LOVING this physical act, this taking of his cock orally, this honoring his cock with the wettest, tightest, most delightful massage it's ever had. We both moaned. Then he pulled himself out and held himself, so I began bobbing on him, making his wetter and wetter with each slurp and taking him just to the back of my mouth, and with my right hand I reached up and pushed his hand away, and began doing short strokes on him, feeling his power and girth in my palm, spreading all the wet around. My left hand had a life of its own, and I was caressing his big balls too. That's what I did, for a long time. Maybe even as long as our kissing session. Sucking and slurping and humming and stroking and moaning and swallowing. I loved it. Every once in a while I'd look up at him, and sometimes he'd have his eyes clenched tight, revelling in the blowjob I was giving, and sometimes he'd be staring at me, his eyes alive. He started bucking his hips a little bit, and I took him and orally massaged him, oblivious to everything around me. I could tell a few moments later, that he was getting close. I couldn't get over the sensory overload I was on. The size of his meat, inside my mouth, the heat of it, the tang of his pre-cum, the blandness of my own saliva, plus, just the total freaking flip-out of sensibilities that I was naked in a forest giving a man old enough to be my parent or uncle what was hopefully the best fucking blowjob he'd ever had. I was burning with the desire to make him cum. I was aflame with the need to taste his cum. I was in awe, and rapture, realizing that I was indeed the most beautiful of things. A cocksucker. I wasn't being forced. I wanted it. I needed it. I had never once in my previous life ever thought about what it would be like, and now I couldn't imagine life without it. I am a cocksucker. PROUD! Then I wondered. What else might I be? His hips started moving in and out a little faster, and his breathing changed, from slow big noises to rapid-fire bursts. I smiled inwardly, and doubled down. I started sucking and slobbering and slurping all that much harder, and making sure I really sucked on the uptake. He was leaking so much juice for me now, I was like a baby nursing. Nursing on the life-giving juice of a man. Building, and anticipating his cum. Anticipating that moment in my life when the highest level yet in my video game would be achieved. When I'd soar past the stratosphere and straight out into the universe, on a rocket of homosexual love. I sucked harder. He bucked harder. I kept sucking, faster and faster. I doubled down, and then quadrupled down. Nothing was stopping me now. A few deep sucks later, he began bucking his hips again, slowly. Then more quickly. Then he hissed out something unintelligible. Then he grabbed my hair at the back of my head, and flooded my mouth with his cum. THE SINGLE HIGHEST LEVEL YET. That first shot hit the top part of my mouth, like a firehose. It was enormous. It's strange how your brain can process differing thought patterns at the same time, but here I was naked in the forest, in a clearing with other naked horny men, some kissing, some sucking, some fucking and getting fucked, and I was giving my man the best blowjob I could, and yet I marvelled mentally at the difference between him and me. My shots were always quick and moderate in volume. His first blast felt like a whole cup of cum, maybe a pint, settling instantly in the back of my mouth. I had just enough time to swallow it, to let it begin its trip down into my belly, savoring the thickness and the tartness and the saltiness and the tinges of almond flavor and maybe some sweetness too, like pineapple. I marvelled at the complexity of the taste of cum. I marvelled at the myriad of hints and flavors involved. It was like reviewing a fine wine. The nuances and differing competing wisps of flavor and taste came up at me, in that second or less I had to take a mouthful of his cum into me, before his second shot replaced it, once again filling my mouth, once again forcing me to swallow a huge liquid lump of love. The third shot had a tiny delay to it, from the second. Just long enough for me to think I'd get it, and then not get it, and then think, 'MAN! I REALLY WANT MORE!' Then he gave me more. There was a fourth shot and a fifth shot, both smaller and weaker than the first three, but welcomed and loved all the same. His noises, above me, were strangled and barely contained and full of emotion. His hands on the sides of my head were holding me in place, unnecessarily. Wild horses, or a team of military-trained SWAT personnel, couldn't have budged me from where I was, and where I wanted to be. Had to be. The sixth shot was small, and almost not there. Still, I was licking and slurping and sucking like crazy, because I'd become like an alcoholic over his cum. It was the single-most delicious taste ever, and I instantly rued my previous twenty-six years, all of them spent without ever once tasting male semen, male ejaculate. Not even my own. WHAT WAS I THINKING? I instantly regretted all the cocks I didn't suck all those years, and all the cum I didn't savor and swallow. What a fool I'd been. Finally, his gasps and oohs and aahs petered out, and his hands gently pulled my head off his cock. I realized he was probably getting sensitive, that amazing feeling after you've cum when your cock is tender, when a touch or a lick can push the envelope of pain/pleasure over to the pain side. I didn't want to cause him any pain. NO NO! I had motives that were quite the opposite of that. I slowly stood up, swallowing the last remnants in my mouth, and staring him in the eyes. There were no others now, in my world. There was just him. And me. Gazing at the man who I'd just blown. Staring at the man who I'd just brazenly sucked off. My heart fairly jumped out of my chest at that thought. Blown! Sucked off! I'd just performed oral sex on a man, that in itself blowing my mind, and here I was sitting gently back on his lap, feeling his cock soften underneath my bum, and preparing to take his lips back onto mine. He kissed me first. It was, without question, the best kiss ever. There was hunger in it, and gratitude, and awe, and wonder, and joy, and passion, and giddiness and appreciation. My little cock was so hard I thought I might be able to just put my hand on it and snap it off, like an icicle hanging off an eave. I'd never been more erect, more turned on, or feeling sexy. Our kiss became something wild. He wrapped his arms around me and almost crushed me to his body. He was showing me his love for me, how I'd made him feel better than ever, and he was giving it back to me in spades. Our tongues were like snakes, slithering in and out and back and forth. When I could, I'd trap his in my mouth, sucking harder than I had just sucked his fantastic cock. Which was suddenly getting harder again, under my ass. And I thought, OH MY GOD!!!! I've never been able to recover after an orgasm that fast! He was stiffening and growing and throbbing again, after just a few seconds of kiss! I LOVE THIS MAN!!!! I could hear off to the side that the other Daddy and his cross- dressing young lover were about to explode. Both of them were grunting and moaning and making noises most humans never get the chance to make. And their bodies slapping together, as the Daddy simply and purely piston-fucked his young lover, was like a symphony of love. The sounds of pure lust. SLAP SLAP SLAP MOAN SLAP GROAN SLAP GRUNT SLAP MOAN SLAP GRUNT. I opened one eye, and tried to look over at them. My Daddy stuck his tongue deeper into my mouth, perhaps emboldened by the sounds. I didn't know, and it didn't matter. I loved it! Somewhere south of us, I don't know how far away, I heard an air-horn go off. SHIT! Was one of my fellow workers being attacked by an animal? Or were they trying to find me? What time was it? Had I missed lunch, and they were searching for me, worried? My lover froze. I froze. I think all the horny men in the clearing froze. I stopped kissing Daddy. I heard the air horn again, a little closer to us now. Everybody started moving. I jumped off Daddy's lap, and started scrambling at the pile of clothes I'd left on the ground, throwing them back on me. Daddy did the same. I saw in my peripheral vision the other men all rushing to dress, or re-dress, all of them immediately disappearing into the forest in a whole bunch of different directions. I felt the worst for the other Daddy and his feminine lover boy. They broke apart, neither of them having cummed, and began hopping around, finding clothes and shoes and then fleeing, as fast as they could. I had just enough time to look at my Daddy, and jump up and kiss him again, zipping and buttoning myself back into some semblance of order, and then I whispered to him, "I'll be back tomorrow!", and then I was running. I ran more or less back in the direction that he'd brought me in on, as best I could remember. It's weird, because I saw trees I thought I recognized, but one or two of them ended up leading me to natural highlights I couldn't remember. I heard the air horn again. I pulled mine off my utility belt, and held it up in the air, and let a blast go. I needed to let them know that I was fine, I was responding, I was not being eaten by an animal or something like that. A few minutes later, I exploded out of the forest onto a trail. It wasn't the part of the trail I thought it would be, and realized that the wild panicked escape had led me to a different part of the park. Which way do I turn? I heard the air horn again, to my left, and ran. A few moments later, I saw the boss man and one of the two other young guys coming up the trail. The boss man had a real look of worry on his face. "Where the hell have you been!?!?!" he screamed. My brain just started making up lies. "I got lost!" I yelled, "I got turned around and lost, and then I heard some animal in the forest, and then it was chasing me!" He started looking around, and behind me. "I think I lost it now!" I said, breathless from the fear of getting caught and the running. Boss man looked at me. "You're cut," he said, and pointed to my face. I held my hand up and pressed the back side of it to my cheek. Pulling it away, I saw a thin red line of blood. "Tree branches," was all I could think of to say. "Where's your equipment?" he asked. SHIT! My gripper claws and one bag partially full of garbage were somewhere in the forest, back there. I looked behind me, and around me. "I dropped them," I absentmindedly said, "they could be anywhere." He looked past me, and all around. "No," he said, "let's just get the hell out of here." So we high-tailed it back to the main lot. His truck was there, and the whole time he kept asking me what I was doing, and why didn't I blast my horn when I knew I was lost, and why did I wander off the trail and risk getting eaten by a lion and why did I look so red-faced and tired? Even though it was just early afternoon, he told everybody to pile in the truck, and we were cutting out early today. He'd fill in the charts that we all worked a full day. He told us we were all back again tomorrow. "Maybe," he said, looking straight at me, "there won't be any more wild animals around." I nodded my agreement. All in all, I was glad we were off early. I had some errands to run. And just the idea, just the thought of me actually doing these errands was sending my blood coursing through my veins. I'd never felt more pressurized, in a good way. Everything about me was alive, and taut. My skin, all my senses, they all felt like they were being assaulted by new levels of affectation. The sun seemed brighter and warmer on me. The air around me was crisp and clean and my lungs were expanding more than they ever had. The movies were playing in my head constantly, re-living every gloriously exciting moment. I SUCKED A MAN OFF!!!! I SWALLOWED EVERY SINGLE DROP OF HIS CUM!!! I'M A COCKSUCKER!!! That alone made my errands exciting. The first was to the mall. There was a certain store I wanted to visit. I'd have to lie and say I was buying for a girlfriend, but I presumed lots of men do that, and, I realized, even if they do think it's for me who gives a shit what they think? But yes, I did stumble a little bit when they asked me what her sizes were, and I had to do the ah-gosh-stupid-me-dumb-guy-doesn't-know-his-woman's-sizes bit, so I guessed and they took my money. It put me down almost two hundred bucks. I also visited a big box pharmacy, and bought a few other things. Again, for my 'girlfriend'. The last place I went was a Salvation Army thrift store, a few blocks from my place. I go there often. It's where I buy a lot of my clothes. I've bought dishes and stuff there too. It doesn't matter to me if somebody else used them first. They were way cheaper than new. There was one thing I knew they had there, because I'd seen it dozens of times, that I suddenly really really wanted. Audrey, the little old Christian lady who works there Saturdays, nearly spit her gum out when I got to the counter. "You want to buy that?" she asked, entirely incredulously. "Yes." I tried to think of something clever. "It's a joke," I lied, "for a friend, for his stag." She just looked at me, and took my twelve dollars. As soon as I got home, I stripped naked, and plopped myself down on my bed. I was emotionally and physically exhausted. And yet, at the same time, I felt more elated and full of life than I ever had. I had more energy, its source unknown, than I could recall in all my years. I was alive and on fire emotionally. And now, I got to replay a second day of truly inspiring gay sex. Now, I had new movies to watch, again and again. And these ones were FUCKING WILD, compared to last week. I wanted to scream out, in joy and pride and pure bragging. I SUCKED A COCK TODAY!! I GAVE A MAN THE BEST BLOWJOB HE'S EVER HAD!! I SWALLOWED ABOUT A GALLON OR TWO OF CUM! I AM A COCKSUCKER! I edged and stroked for hours. In between the movie scenes, I began imagining what might have happened, if the air horn hadn't sounded. I knew, as sure as I knew my own name, what I wanted to have happened. The unthinkable. The outer limits of sexuality. All of it. Sleep came to me eventually, and it was a deep slumber, filled with images that once I woke up I realized were just pure eroticism. YUM! I'd set my alarm clock, and gave myself plenty of time. I showered, and shaved my body with the razor I'd bought yesterday. I wanted to be smooth. I cleaned myself, inside and out. Once dry, I slipped into clothes I had never slipped into before, in my life. Ever. Then I threw a bunch of work clothes on top, including the safety vest. I checked in the mirror, this way and that, and made sure there were no visible lines anywhere, any place there shouldn't be lines like that on a man. Plus, it was just cool and overcast enough outside that it helped me hide my special prize, my thrift store prize, stuffed down in my coat. Boss man told me when we got to the rest area that I was to head in the exact opposite direction of where I'd been yesterday. In case. I dutifully headed east, and picked up some garbage here and there. I tried to make it five minutes or so, and then I slowly and quietly headed back to the lot. Peering through trees and bushes, I finally saw that his big truck was gone. I sprinted west, running as fast as I could, back up the trail I wanted. I burst through the over-grown cover, and zigged to the right, tromping my way over leaves and grass and stones and twigs. If anyone was in the clearing they would surely hear me approaching. The last turn, and a duck underneath low branches put me in front of the cedar shrub. There was Daddy. I ran at him, and he threw open his arms and I jumped into his body, and our collision almost knocked the wind out of both of us, and then his arms wrapped around me and his hands grabbed my ass cheeks, and my arms went around his neck, and we rocked in place and stared into each other's eyes. "Hi Daddy," I whispered. "Hello, Scarlett," he whispered back. And then just like a video game I got to go to the next level and he kissed me, softly, almost reverently. It sent machine-gun fire tremors up my spine, and I saw little white stars in the corners of my closed eyes, and then his tongue tapped on my lips and I opened up like the hungry creature I'd become, and I started sucking on his tongue, covering it in saliva, pulling it deeper into me with a Hoover-kind of suction. We kissed. Soft and then intense, quiet and then sloppy. It was the absolute best yet. They just keep getting better. Minutes later, we stopped, and he reached to move the huge shrub out of the way. "There's no one here yet," Daddy whispered, "so we've got the place to ourselves!" Then he started pulling at my hand, for me to go in first. "Wait," I said. He turned back to look at me. Was that concern on his face? "What? Is something wrong?" I smiled at him. "Can you let me go in first, and give me two minutes to get ready?" His look changed from slight concern to slight confusion. "Get ready?" he asked. I nodded, and smiled even more. "You'll see," I promised, and moved to step through the gap. "I'll meet you at our stump," I said, as I disappeared into the clearing. My safety vest came off first, put down on the ground specifically so I could stand on it. There were things I didn't want to snag, or rip. Unzipping my coat released my thrift store find, and I put it gently on the stump for a few moments. Then I added a couple of other things, from my pockets. Then I got my boots off, and the rest of my outerwear. Underneath all that, and now exposed to the world, was my newest underwear. OH! THE HEIGHTS OF NAUGHTY I WAS ACHIEVING!!! The colour of freshly-mown spring time grass, a matching bra and panty and garter belt and stocking set. Lace everywhere. My entire body was silky-smooth, and the sensations that the fabric of my lingerie was giving me were unlike anything I'd ever known before. Why can't all clothes feel this silky? It was like love for my skin. I'd insisted on an A cup for the bra, and it cupped and lifted my pecs into small round globes, and gave me the sexiest cleavage. The panties were dangerously thin, a G-string tightly embedded all the way into my ass crevice, all the way from my hairless balls. My little cock had probably never been harder, encased and trapped in silk. I was ready. I reached for my thrift store purchase. A wig. It was electric red, shiny and glittery. The bangs were cut straight across the eyebrow level, and the sides and back were straight down. It came to my shoulders. Finally, I reached for one last purchase, and picked up my new lipstick. My first lipstick. Coral pink. I didn't have a mirror, so I had to do my lips by feel. I slicked a bunch on and then made repeated kissy-face motions, like kissing myself, until it felt like my lips were ready. Then I turned, and stood, facing the direction Daddy would come from. I waited. I realized that yesterday I had exulted in the feeling of stripping naked outdoors, especially in front of my man, my lover, and the other passionate horny gay men in the clearing. And like the next level, this was way above all that. Standing almost naked, in the same field. For the same man. My new Daddy. But this time, I was something else. Something different. Something I suspected was far more an accurate representation of the real me. The feminine me. I stood there proudly. I stood there confidently. I stood there throwing off all the doubts and worries, the chains of society. I stood there in glorious anticipation of my lover coming to me. And then coming inside of me. A few seconds later, I saw the foliage move. Daddy popped through. I stood taller, and pushed my breasts towards him. Daddy stood there, his mouth open. I watched his eyes slowly move up and down, from one end of me to the other, appraising, taking his time to take in all the visual stimulation I was giving him. I giddily watched a huge lump appear in his track pants, in about three seconds flat. The same pants he wore yesterday. Yesterday, the magical wonderful day I sucked him dry, where I nearly drowned in his delicious syrupy cum. Today, I knew, my body will get another filling of his love juice. This time, however, it wasn't going into my tummy. Daddy just stood there, gaping at me. Then slowly, ever so slowly, a smile began at the corners of his mouth. That smile slowly evolved, and became a grin. Which became a beam, which became a wide-open leering lecherous cackle. Daddy never took his eyes off me, and began walking forward. He got about halfway to me and he peeled off his hoodie, and the t-shirt that was underneath it. When he was three-quarters of the way to me he stopped to kick off his shoes. Two steps later, he pulled his track pants all the way off in one swift decisive motion. And there he stood. My man, my horny Daddy, naked, his skin radiant, pumping with his excitement, his chest heaving up and down a little. I reached out to him, and silently begged him to take me. This kiss, as he wrapped himself around me, his erection straining upwards, his body warm and rippling with adrenaline, this kiss was one for the record books. I had never felt so enveloped in a kiss, so taken in. It was like he was trying to kiss me to my core, to my soul. I swooned, literally. I saw stars and bits of colors zipping hither and yon in my closed eyes, like a laser-show at the planetarium. Nobody ever made me feel this good there. Our kiss just deepened and deepened, as our bodies crushed against each other. His cock was throbbing, I could feel it squashed between our bodies, and I wriggled my midsection as much as I could inside his loving arms, just to tease him, to enflame him even more than he already obviously was. Like yesterday, our kisses lasted for minutes on end. I'd never known how much I liked to kiss, until meeting Bill. Daddy. His lips and tongue were relentless, and soothing, and teasing, and playful, and forceful. I melted into him, the feeling indescribable. The soft silky materials of my lingerie touching him, feeling his heat and his movements, and also touching me, caressing me like I'd never felt before. Probably close to a half hour later, I took one of my hands from behind his head and snaked it down between our bodies. I palmed his hot cock, which had been slowly spreading a thick syrupy sheen across my lower belly, the sight erotic and the smell enticing and I brought my palm up and broke our kiss and licked his palm, tasting his copious amounts of pre-cum, and I hummed louder than a railroad car rumbling past at sixty miles an hour. I had to share it with him, so I kissed him again, and we started anew, and my hand snuck back down between us and I stroked him. I couldn't get over the feeling of having a hard cock in my hand, in my palm, manipulating my fingers around it, absorbing the substance of it, its girth, its thickness, its weight. It was serious, and it had gravitas. We made out for another few minutes, and then I broke the kiss again. Slithering slowly down to my knees, I barely had enough time to kiss one nipple before I landed on my knees, looking up at him, my fingers around his cock, his eyes boring down on me. I leaned forward, and took him inside me again. OH DELIGHT! One microsecond was all it took to remind me how extraordinary and exciting it was to take a man's flesh into my mouth, the physical and emotional meanings staggering to me and luring me in. I was dressed in lingerie, and a wig, and lipstick. On my knees, in the forest of a public park, with a man named Bill, who I loved to call Daddy. Sucking his cock into my mouth, and relishing every blessed moment of it. I breathed out the biggest blast through my nose as I settled my tongue and upper palette onto his big plum-shaped head, coating it in love, and suckling, gently pulling at it with my cheeks and throat. Sliding up, sliding down, as wet as I could make it, every movement specific and ordered to make my mouth as wet as the wettest real pussy he'd ever been in. Better than his first fuck. Better than his wife. Better than anything. I watched his head fall backwards, as his eyes closed, and he stretched his neck to the skies and hissed out a long loud, "OHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKK!" It's really hard to smile when you're sucking on a big cock, when your lips and cheeks and tongue are busy doing their things. But smile I did. Pride, in the name of love. I sucked him, and slobbered all over him, and sucked him some more, and feasted on a moderate stream of salty tangy pre-cum. Every morsel of it, as soon as it touched a taste bud, fairly exploded its flavor all through me. It brought me back to less than twenty-four hours ago, and all the incredible and positive ways it made me feel. Sucking on a cock. Loving a cock, loving a man, orally. Maybe because I had one of my own, though not nearly as impressive, maybe that's why I loved doing it, knowing how my motions and movements were affecting him, almost feeling the same thrills he was in my own cock, which was trying to rip my tight panties to get out. I sucked Daddy for a few more minutes, ending with a good session of long full bobs, all of them deep and slow and mimicking a pussy, wrapping his cock in warm wet flesh. Then I let him pop out of my mouth, and I stood, and we kissed again. He was breathing really hard, and crushing me into his body with his arms. Finally, he broke the kiss, a new record-holder for best of all. He looked me sweetly in the eyes, and grinned. "Let's get you ready, Scarlett." I knew what he meant. I bent over and picked up the last item I'd placed on the stump. A squeeze tube of lube. I handed it to him, wordlessly. I just smiled and smiled and smiled. Proud. Excited. So willing. So wanton. I am such a slut. I moved to the stump and bent forward, until my forearms settled on the musty old sleeping bag, keeping my legs straight and pert. I knew with my back bent slightly that my ass was pointed straight at his cock, with him standing behind me. Inviting him. I wriggled and giggled. He placed on hand on my right bum cheek and caressed me. "Sexy girl!" he whispered. Then the hand was gone, followed by the sounds of the cap coming off the tube, and then a squelchy sound as he pushed some onto a finger or two. I didn't know how many. I found out soon enough. A big finger touched my left cheek and then slipped under the fabric of my G-string panties, and roughly pulled it up and out, wedging it on the curve of my ass. Then the same hand slid in my crack, a little ways, and then he spread his fingers and thumb and he opened me up. Exposing my pussy. Then the coldest iciest sensation touched me dead on my pussy opening, my outer ring, and I gasped out loud and had to fight to not jump forward. This time I heard him giggling. I couldn't at that moment. My breathing rate about doubled in that one moment. Then my head snapped up and my mouth shot open and my eyes shot open and all the air in my lungs boomed out of me in a gigantic and loud gasp, as two of Daddy's fingers pushed through some minor resistance and buried themselves in me. In me. I don't know how long his fingers are, but I could feel the other two folded-up fingers against my ass cheek, so I know he had slid them into my pussy as far as he could go. The initial shock of it was immediately replaced with an even larger feeling of mind-blowing amazement at myself. I had Daddy's fingers in my pussy!!! He withdrew them, and I heard more squelching, and then he slid those fingers into me again. Harder, and faster. I moaned my encouragement. It was even better than I'd imagined it would be, the way my channel had to expand, had to get larger, as he entered me. And then, making me gasp even louder, he spread his digits while inside me, and my 'holy-fuck' meter went from about three to eight, out of ten. I was being fucked! He pulled his fingers out slowly, keeping them spread inside me as much as he could. When they popped out of me, he didn't give me time to react or assume another little gap because he just plunged back inside me again. BOOM! I pushed my legs straight, and thrust my ass back at his fingers. It was involuntary. That's just the way my body reacted. He took it in the way it was intended, and speared me half a dozen more times. Then I heard the squelchy noise, and he murmured a few sounds, and then his hands came down on both my hips. His swinging turgid cock touched my backside, here and there. I was flexing my legs, and pushing out my pelvis, just to create better contact with him. And to seat that cock where I really wanted it. Right in my pussy hole. I heard him laugh. "Scarlett," he said, his voice raspy with electricity, "tell me what you want." I moaned, a long throbbing wanting wail. "Mmmmmm, I want Daddy to make love to me." He laughed again. "One week ago, you'd never even kissed a man before," he whispered, "and now look at you!" I turned my head, and looked up at him. "Look at me," I agreed, "wearing lingerie, and lipstick, and begging you to fuck me like I am your woman!" His right hand left my hip, and he grabbed his cock, sliding his hand up and down the shaft a couple of times, spreading out the lube. Then he steered it, into the indent of my skin, directly into the eye of my pussy. I felt the size of it, the heft of it, and the girth of it. It was already so much bigger than his two fingers. A moment of hesitation went through my brain. Before I could generate a second moment, he pushed. He pushed. He pushed that cock straight into me. He pushed that thick long piece of lubed-up meat right through my first and second rings, blowing them open before they had a chance to even think about it, and then exploding open my inner channel, faster and harder than I could have ever dreamed of. It was instant, and shocking, and unexpected, and totally took me to the next level in this video game of life. My eyes blasted open, and I half-yelled/half-screamed a shriek. He buried himself in me. He grunted out like a bull elephant when his body slammed into my ass. His cock inside me. All the fucking way. I was seeing stars and stripes and waves and patterns I didn't even recognize, all zipping past my conscious brain at a million miles a minute. And a few thousand nerve endings, most of them inside me, just went berserk, so my body reacted and I was inundated with adrenaline and endorphins and all sorts of other chemicals, and all rational thoughts escaped me. All I could concentrate on at one time were trying not to pass out from all the increased sensations I was going through, while understanding and acknowledging that I had a cock inside me, and a horny adult man who wanted to make love to me and fuck the living shit out of me. And even more astounding was this: I WANTED HIM TO DO IT! He left me speared like that for a few moments, letting me try to get used to feeling like I was five pounds heavier with all this meat in me, and how my insides had to slither and shuffle around and compress a little bit to allow my body to fit in his flesh. I don't know if there were things inside me that eventually signalled him or not, something he'd felt on his head or shaft that felt like me relaxing, but after I don't know how long, he began his fucking. He slowly pulled his cock almost all the way out of me, eliciting the longest softest sigh I've ever produced, and then he slammed back into me, knocking the wind out of my lungs, and forcing me to gulp air back in me. Then he did it again. His body hitting mine felt like I was in a fender bender, in a car, my entire body being shaken forward in an instant and then a slower version of falling back. And then he'd slam me again. WHAM! AND I WAS ABSOLUTELY FREAKING OUT INSIDE MY SOUL!!! EVERY SINGLE MOVEMENT WAS BETTER THAN THE LAST, AND KNOCKING MY NEEDLE RIGHT OFF THE CHARTS! MY BODY, AND MY SOUL, WERE SCREAMING OUT 'OH-MY-FUCKING- GOD-I-CAN'T-BELIEVE-HOW-FANTASTIC-IT-FEELS-TO-BE-THIS-FEMININE-SEXY- SLUT-I'VE-BECOME-AND-HOW-DOUBLY-FUCKING-FANTASTIC-IT-FEELS-TO-BE-FULL- OF-COCK!' And then Daddy got serious. He started pounding me, just all-out rutting with me, like animals do. His hips were moving at rapid-fire rate, just slamming into me, and every time he bottomed out we'd crash together and his cock would go just that tiny little noodge further inside me, touching in new ways, touching parts of me that rippled overwhelming sensations through my whole body, and the clearing in the forest would reverberate with the 'THWACK' sounds of our joining. The white-hot stars and other shapes I was seeing eventually took over my entire vision, so that even though I could technically see the stump I was bent over and see the dirt and leaves and twigs around it and see the bottom half of my legs, marvelling at just how fucking sexy they looked with stockings on, mostly what I saw was a visual interpretation of the zooming ups and ups my entire nervous system was going through. It was like being plugged into an energy machine, and every pore of my flesh was pulsing and throbbing with electricity. My cock suddenly exploded a huge glorb of cum, one gigantic shot that made me moan like the happiest human ever, but it was short-lived, because Daddy didn't slow down at all. If anything, he sped up. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. MOAN MOAN MOAN MOAN MOAN MOAN MOAN MOAN MOAN. That went on for a while, and then a short time later I yelled out, uncontrollably, and my cock shot out a smaller glorb of white cum, which landed on the old sleeping bag beneath me. I lost all control of my body. If Daddy hadn't have been holding me up I would have collapsed, there's no doubt in my mind. I was in nirvana, way past heaven, and heading for bozoland. Daddy just kept grunting and fucking. Grunting and fucking. Grunting and fucking. I was merely along for the ride. And what a ride! I couldn't believe how empowering it was to completely let go, to completely put myself in someone else's hands, and just exist. Just react to my surroundings on a minute-by-minute basis, go with the flow, no matter how ferocious his thrusts became. And they became ferocious. He had an almost death-grip on my hips, and he was pulling me violently back towards him as he thrust into me, splitting my pussy open over and over and over and over and over and over again. Minutes on end later, I was still unconnected to reality in any way, shape, or form, and I felt another orgasm coming on. I moaned out the words. "I'M GONNA CUM!" Daddy became a rocket. His furious pace before almost doubled. He was slamming into me faster and faster and harder and harder and I was moaning and gasping out more and more and more and more. My cum started from somewhere deep inside me I'd never felt before. An eruption of tissue and blood and energy, building and building until it couldn't be contained any more. I screamed out, "DADDY!!!!!!" My whole body became like someone having a Grand Mal seizure. Violent unpredictable spasms, shocking tics, muscles clenching and releasing willy-nilly, my whole body shaking, as if I was sitting in the electric chair. As I burst, my whole body convulsing out my cum in a searing-hot blast, my pussy clamped down on Daddy's cock. He absolutely screamed. This his hands grabbed me so hard that I knew he'd leave marks, and his lower body started grinding and flexing, and then all I heard was his strangled over-the-top howl. He was cumming in me. He was at the heights of his physical and mental existence. He was on that other plane, that different level of consciousness that can only be obtained by a full-body all-out no-holds-barred sexual orgasmic experience. Daddy howled and howled. He was still moaning minutes later, when I was finally able to begin thinking about anything again. When I started to analyze and assess myself. My body was sore, and felt like I'd fought against hurricane-force winds trying to walk up a street. My brain was inert. My soul was singing the loudest, most beautiful paean ever heard. From somewhere inside me, my soul started voicing how it felt, the words echoing around my cranium and my heart. YOU ARE OFFICIALLY A SLUT! YOU ARE A COCKSUCKING, CUM-EATING, DICK-LOVING CROSS-DRESSING SISSY SLUT! LET THE WORLD HEAR ME!!!! I AM FINALLY ALIVE!!! ME. SCARLETT. For a good half hour afterwards, Daddy held me in his arms, curled up in his lap, the two of us just breathing and being together. His body was warm, and I was tempted to go to sleep, and dream the most blissful of dreams. I finally found some energy, and lifted my head to gaze up into his eyes. I was shocked by what I saw. Daddy had tears building. He looked down at me. "That," he whispered reverently, "was the best fuck I've ever had. I didn't even know it could be like that." I giggled. "Me neither." A sudden look of concern came over his face. "Did I hurt you?" he asked. I shook my head. "No, no, Daddy, no," I whispered, love in my tone and in my stare, "you didn't hurt me. You gave me life! You helped me become real, become whole. You gave birth to me!" I watched one tear fall down his cheek. "I love you, Scarlett," he whispered. "I love you, Daddy!" I soothed. We kissed, softly. It was gentle, like a summer's breeze, and it was the best kiss of all. The End.