Date: Mon, 29 Jul 2013 22:45:32 +0200
From: Charles Thomas <charles.thomas.oak@gmail.com>
Subject: Deserted Island

A deserted island thing

	First of all, I'm not gay.  Let's get that shit straight.  Not that
I hadn't done that type of thing before.  I surely have.  But in a sort of
deserted island with a hot guy and what are you gonna do kind of way.
Forget the Slavik kid in Germany (he looked like a chick, seriously...I
mean he was really pretty).  I like ladies, and mostly with the guys it's
been me going, "Fuck I really wanna get off with just about anything" not
"Goddam he's hot buttered yum and I'm a pig with a big appetite!"

	I could tell you about the Slavik kid, but first I'd have to tell
you about my first time, that got me thinking I don't mind getting off as
long as you don't put any labels on it.  That's all.  Except for the
deserted island label.  I can live with that.  Besides, as a ski instructor
in Germany right now I pretty much can do whatever I'd like and labels be
damned (I don't think they've made names for some of the shit, yo!).

	Anyway, let me tell you this story.  I had gone on a long trek in
Alaska with a friend of mine.  He was like me in many ways.  He liked
adventure, was athletic and willing to push his body to find the limits.
We would go out on these treks sometimes, just wandering the wilderness
living off tree bark if need be (the inside of which is amazingly
nutritious).  After a week in the wilderness we came upon an old abandoned
cabin.  It was crude, but it was warm and gave us shelter from the
mosquitos.  We had some ganja, which we sparked as soon as we settled in,
passing the pipe to and fro.  After awhile we started to get giggly and the
truth serum THC started eeking out stories.  At the time we were 19, I
think.  Both taking a break from college; a break I'm still on.  We had
grown up together, and he brought up Dr. Ingall, a prominant physician and
crazy marathoner.

	"Remember him?" he asked me, grinning a high-ass grin.

	"Fuckin'-A," I said.  "Dude was a runner.  Really tall and skinny,
but he was a handsome man.  Kind of looked like clark Kent, with those
glasses and the hair.  Wasn't he the one with the hot secretary he was
bangin'?"

	"Nah, he was gay," my friend said, sipping from the pipe and
passing it to me.  I took a toke and waited for him to go through the
process of internalizing the smoke.  When he finally coughed it out and
sucked in some oxygen I did the same.

	"How do you know?" I asked, still coughing a bit.  "You suck his
dick?"  I was joking of course, as guys will do.

	My friend laughed.  "Not at first.  He sucked mine."

	I stared at him as he puffed from the pipe again, trying to
determine if he was serious.  He didn't look like he had been joking, but
then we were both bleary-eyed and high so who knew? I had a sudden fantasy
of my friend, who is male model hot, lying on the doctor's table with the
lanky doc sucking his hard cock.  I blinked, taking the pipe back when
offered.  Don't need that image, I thought.  "How did that happen?"

	He grimaced.  "Fuck dude...listen you aren't going to freak are
you?"

	I shook my head.  I realized that despite the righteous weed we'd
been smoking I had a pretty impressive boner. I wanted to hear the story.
"Nah, man...it's cool, tell me about it."

	He told me about it.  He told me about the time he had gone to the
local fraternal organization luncheon to basically beg for money for a trip
to China as part of the Junior Olympic track team.  My friend was a
champion runner, 800 meters.  That was about a year before this trip we
were on.  He needed sponsors to finance his way to China, and so he stood
up and introduced himself and told them he was hoping to raise money to go
to China, blah blah.  It was the typical shit, ask for money without asking
for money outright.

	Afterward he said Doc Ingall came up to him and started to talk to
him.  He said he was thrilled because, unbeknownst to me until that moment
he was telling me about this, he was gay and the doc was, in his words,
"Like Superman hot."

	"Clark Kent hot," I said, puffing on the pipe.  "Seriously, he's
like a hot Clark Kent.  I can't see him in tights, but in a suit,
yeah. He's too skinny."

	My friend shrugged.  "Whatever, bro, I thought he was the shit."
He continued on his story.  The doc told him he was a handsome young man,
an athletic, well formed young speciman.  "He told me I should be proud of
my proportions."

	"Your proportions?" I said, laughing.  "What the fuck kind of
pickup line is that?"

	My friend shrugged.  The doc told him he'd like to talk to him
about things later, alone.  He'd like to help my friend out if he could.

	"But you never went to China," I said.  We had put the pipe aside
finally and I was reclining on my sleeping bag.  My friend was lying next
to me, with his feet to my head and my feet to his.  He lay back, crossing
his arms behind his head and looking up at the ceiling.

	"Nope."  He continued his story.  The doc arranged to pick him up
one day and took him to his house that was near the local airport.  It was
a nice house, big with a huge garden in the back the doc liked to
cultivate.  Once inside the doc told my friend he was a nudist and liked to
"free his body" and he hoped my friend would to.

	"That's kind of creepy, yo," I said.

	"No," my friend said, "'cause I was right there, man, I was a
willing participant.  He was just trying to make excuses in his head, I
think."

	I was lying on my side, my head propped in one hand leaning on an
elbow, watching him as he told the story.  I could see he was remembering
everything very clearly despite our high state as there was a definite lump
in his pants.  He continued on.  They got naked and walked hand in hand out
into the garden.  The doc took him to a spot in a gazebo where there was
one of those hanging beds and a huge mirror on one wall.  The doc guided
him to stand between the mirror and the bed, that swung gently as they
bumped it.  The doc said, "Look at yourself in the mirror," which my friend
did.

	"What did you see?" I asked.

	"I saw a young guy, me, with a fucking huge boner and and a really
handsome older guy, him, with an even bigger boner."

	I laughed.  "Seriously?  He's hung?"

	My friend laughed.  "Like a fucking stallion, bro."

	The doc reached an arm around around him and put a hand on his
belly.  He told him how nice it was that he had a flat belly, with a six
pack, then he slid his hand up to his chest and admired the muscles there,
then down to his swollen cock and wrapped around it.  He asked my friend if
he was afraid of sex.  "At that point, man, I was like, 'Dude, let's just
fucking do this.'  I turned around and grabbed him and kissed him.  Then it
was on like donkey kong."

	My friend went silent.  I lay there a moment, looking at him.  Was
he going to finish?  Was he going to tell me every detail?  He reached down
to his crotch suddenly and laughed.  "Damn...got a boner."

	I laughed and looked down.  I grabbed my own swollen shaft through
my pants.  "Me too."

	He looked at me and we both laughed.  "Hey, man," he said, "I can
handle that for you if you need me to...or want me to."

	I shrugged.  I realized I was nervous suddenly.  Our eyes met and I
got that "Oh fuck yeah let's connect" vibe you usually get with women when
you both want to just jump in bed.  He sat up and reached out, touching my
obvious bulge.

	"Bro you gotta problem," he whispered.  Suddenly we both giggled
nervously.  I was still on my side, but at that point I rolled onto my back
to give him better access.  He stroked me through my pants for a few
moments, just staring at my crotch.  His hands flattened down the fabric of
my hiking pants on either side of my dick, molding the fabric.  "It's a
nice, big problem," he said.  He bent down and put his mouth on the tip of
my penis, kissing it through the fabric.  I lifted my hips, meeting him
eagerly.

	"So, uh, he sucked your dick first," I asked, hoarsely, feeling
like I needed to break the tension.  "Then you sucked his?"

	He looked up at me, laying his cheek against my erection.  "Yeah,"
he said.  "Well, he sucked my cock kneeling in front of me.  It was very
hot. I could look down over his shoulders and see his ass clinching as he
humped the air like he wanted to fuck me and that really turned me on. Then
when I shot my load in his mouth ("Did he swallow," I asked; "Yeah," he
answered before continuing) he put me in the bed and showed me lots of
stuff."

	"Like what?" I asked.

	"Like how his dick tasted," he said.  "I'm kind of curious how
yours tastes.  Can I?"

	I nodded quickly.  He unzipped my pants and pulled them down.  My
underwear followed until they were both around my knees and my dick, hard
as a rock, arched over my stomach proudly.  He took it into his hand,
licking his lips.

	I moaned a little when he flicked his tongue over the tip.  His
hand slowly stroked me.  He looked up at me.  "Do you remember when we were
kids and we jerked each other off?"

	I nodded.  "Yeah...just kids, doing whatever, you know," I said
lamely. I did remember it.  Nothing more exciting than another person's
hand on your cock when you're about 15 even if it is your best friend.

	"I really wanted to suck your cock then," he said.  He turned his
head and I felt the warm, wet feel of his mouth engulfing my swollen cock.
I lifted my hips eagerly as he slid down the shaft, taking it all in until
the head hit the back of his throat.  When he came back up the suction
caused a popping noise as he released me.  He pushed my shirt up and kissed
my belly.  I tentatively reached down and touched his shoulder.  He took
the hint and sat up, whipping his shirt off.  He was, indeed, nicely
proportioned.  When his shirt was off he sat back and took his pants off.
While he did that I pushed my pants off completely and took my own shirt
off.  Soon we were naked and back in the original position, my dick in his
mouth and my hand on his bare shoulder.  I stroked his soft skin, enjoying
the feeling of his muscles flexing underneath.

	But no feeling compared to the feeling of his mouth on my dick.  He
could really suck a cock.  After a moment I, almost unconsciously because
I'm not gay, remember, pulled at his body and he swung himself around so I
could taste him while he tasted me.  We lay on our side, facing each other
in a classic 69 pose. His dick, which was fat and hard with big tight balls
and no hair but for a tiny little Hitler mustache above the shaft, was
right there.  I could smell him and it was a strong, wonderful smell.  I
grabbed his cock, surprised at how hot and hard it was, and pulled it
straight out so I could get a closeup view pointed right at my face.  I did
what he had done with me, flicking my tongue over the head.  It was
velvity, like something soft stretched over a firm muscle, and it tasted
salty and bitter, but creamy at the same time, a weird, enticing mix.  I
opened my mouth and put his cock in, feeling it slide over my tongue and
filling my mouth with it's impressive girth.

	My friend gripped my ass, going to town now on my cock while I
humped his face.  I, too, had hold of his taut buns while his thick meat
pistoned in and out of my mouth.  Spit coated it, I was droolling on my
chin, and incredibly focused on that meat sickle.  I held him still for a
moment and slid my mouth as far down his cock as I could.  Opening my
throat, I took it in, feeling it wiggle and pulse in my throat until my
nose was buried in his fragrant balls.  It was all too crazy.  I had never
experienced anything like it.  His skin was so soft, on his back, his ass,
his thighs, belly, chest, everywhere.  His ball sac skin was so soft
against my nose, and the pungent smell of him was driving me nuts.  I
pulled him close so our bellies touched and the feeling was intense.  When
I pulled back from his cock I felt him detach.

	"He also taught me something else," he said, his voice thick.

	"Yeah?"

	He rolled away from me and went to his backpack. Pulling out a tube
he squirted something onto his finger, then he reached around and stuck his
finger in his own ass.  "Yeah, he totally taught me that I like to get
fucked by a big cock."

	"Oh," I said.  I lay there, stroking my cock, enjoying the fact
that his spit was coating it and watching him lube himself up, enjoying how
his muscles bunched and worked under the skin of his back as he arched his
back.  He came over and smeared some of the lube on my dick, stroking it in
until his hand slid up and down the swollen pole easily.  Then he lay down
on his sleeping bag, on his stomach and lifted his ass a little.

	"Come on," he said, pulling me toward him.  I eagerly mounted him,
my knees on either side of his thighs.  He arched his back and I angled my
cock down.  I was a bit clumsy about it, but eager, as I positioned the
slick, fat head against his lubed hole.  He sighed as I slid in.

	"Slowly," he groaned.  "Just slowly at first."

	"Okay," I grunted.  It was tight, but I concentrated on making my
dick hard as a rock as it tried bending this way and that before sliding in
easily.  I held myself up, propped on my hands and knees, slowly lowering
myself into him while he gripped the sleeping bag in both hands and bit his
lip.  "Are you okay?  Does that hurt?" I asked.

	"Oh yeah," he breathed.  "But it hurts so good.  That's a nice, fat
cock."

	Every dude likes to hear that so my fat cock swelled up even more
and he moaned.  Finally I was to the hilt, balls deep as they say. I pushed
in deeper, looking down and watching his sweet round ass bunch up against
my hips, feeling his firm muscular ass cheeks and upper thighs crushed
against my balls.  Then I slowly pulled out, then back in slowly.

	Soon though the rhythm got going.  As he loosened up and I started
getting the hang of it I was banging his ass.  Propped on my knees, my arms
wrapped under his arms and then back over his shoulders, I was humping into
him furiously, slamming my cock in deep.  My friend was bucking back
against me, encouraging me, telling me to fuck him with my big cock.

	Who was I to argue?  I buried my face in his neck, tasting his
salty sweat with my tongue.  He pushed himself up onto his elbows and knees
and I got onto my feet, bending my knees in a squat as I banged him.  I
could reach down now and slide one hand over his heaving chest and belly to
find his dick, which was swinging in the breeze with our rhythm.  When I
grabbed that he gave a shout and I stroked him hard in time with my
pistoning fuck stick.  Finally, with a gasping groan and a cry my friend
came.  I felt his hot load shoot onto my hand and, I'm sure, onto his
sleeping back.  I felt his anus doing somersaults on my dick and between
his jiz on my hand, wrist and forearm, the taste of his salty skin, the
feel of his sweaty back against my chest and that clamping anus, I thrust
one last time deep into him and everything went crazy and animalistic for a
moment as I jerked and gasped and swayed around while my cream loaded him
up.

	Finally I fell off of him and lay on my back in a sweaty mess.

	So that's that.  Deserted island, Alaska cabin, hot guy, horny, so
what are you going to do?  Sometimes, when I see my friend, we make my
apartment in Munich a deserted island.  But I still tag the ladies.  Other
than that Slavik kid, who seriously looked like a very cute girl, except he
had a pretty little dick and no hips, just a tight little ass, that was
smooth and hairless like two round globes of muscle, and he had tiny little
hard nipples on his skinny little twink chest.  And there was that other
dude.  The Brit and the deserted island actually a deserted island we had
dared each other to swim out to from the Dubrovnik harbor, and then we were
stuck so what are you going to do?  Seriously, you know, what are you going
to do?