“Egyptian cotton in the outback?” he laughs.
“Certain comforts are not worth parting with,” I retort playfully.
The sun sinks low toward the earth, skirting the edge.
I form a rough ring on the ground, lining it with river stones.
“Secret pagan ritual?” he asks, seemingly intrigued.
“A pagan ritual known as dinner. This is our oven.”
Stepping back, I brush the dust from my hands.
Manicure didn’t last long.
???
Amos walks further along the track.
He unbuttons his jeans for a bathroom break.
Pants down, he whips his dick out to relieve himself.
No matter how many times I see that ass, it always… mmm.
He glances over his shoulder, one hand beneath his balls.
With a knowing smile, he bends over provocatively, taking his damn sweet time for the pleasure of his audience.
Oh you're asking for it,I vow quietly.
But I’m gonna make you wait, like a good boy.
I know how much he loves that.
My mind wanders.
I imagine all kinds of naughty things while we gather wood.
If only he knew what I used to do alone under that tree.
I was just as horny at thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen.
Used to drop my daks around my ankles right over there.
I’d lean against the trunk, seeing how far my cum could fly.
Learning what felt good, adding a finger in my butt to heighten the sensation.
And then I’d…
“Reckon we’ve got enough?” he asks, stacking a few more branches onto the pile.
They snap easily in those big strong hands.
“Yeah, that should be enough.”
???
