Date: Mon, 3 Nov 2003 07:55:09 -0000
From: StormWriter <stormwriter@talesfromastorm.co.uk>
Subject: Park Life

Park Life

By StormWriter

This particular Saturday morning Paul could not face the world. What with a
bad day at work and his housemates keeping him up until the early hours
with their loud music and constant chatter. They were not bothered that
they did not get to bed until three in the morning because they only needed
to get up early once a fortnight to sign on the dole. Paul was the only one
with a job and although he enjoyed the others' company he wished they would
cut him a bit of slack during weekdays.
     At seven in the morning his alarm had gone off. With one slow
lumbering movement his arm reached over and hit the off button. He mind was
kicking itself for forgetting to switch the damn thing off, but the damage
was done. Paul was awake and with his eyes firmly open, he surveying the
dingy room he rented. Peeling wallpaper, damp and cracked plaster was not
his idea of a great place to live. He had done his best to cover the worst
bits with the posters he had accumulated during his time in student digs.
     What a step up, he thought. Spending three years studying and living
in grotty rooms with the false promise that at the end of it he would find
a descent job and a nice place to live. But, like virtually every other
student, he had graduated and had to take whatever job was offered to him
first. In this case a low skilled post as an admin assistant. But the
thought that around the corner was a job with which he could be proud, and
with that in mind he scoured the local press daily waiting for that elusive
advert which caused that glimmer behind his eyes saying, I want that job.
     Never one to lounge in bed, Paul threw the covers of him, grabbed a
towel and in his boxer shorts padded to the bathroom where he showered and
shaved to fully waken himself.
     Back in his room and fully towelled off, he sat naked on his bed
staring blankly at a wall. Paul felt a piece of him die everyday he stayed
in his dead end job and every night he slept in the terraced slum he
refused to call home.
     With a sudden rush of decisiveness he threw on a pair of running
shorts, vest and sweatpants. He was going out, he would get some fresh air
before the daily grind of Saturday life began. Grabbing his backpack he
threw in his wallet, keys and a towel.  Slipping his feet into his laced
trainers, Paul bolted for the door and a little piece of freedom.
     The bus dropped him a few hundred yards from the park and he walked
leisurely in. For many the park was a piece of the country in the middle of
their built up town.  Of course when it was created by the Master of the
Grand House centuries ago the entire area was countryside, but the
sprawling city soon outgrew it's boundaries and swallowed up much of the
green fields.
     Paul began to walk along the long driveway that led to the large
Mansion House, which was turned into a museum long ago. The mansion stood
raised above its grounds on a grassy hill and surrounding the house was
acres of woodland and fields where deer would roam freely. Mostly they kept
away from the human visitors but it felt liberating to feel that you were
sharing the same space as the beautiful animals.
     Paul found a bench, sat down and removed his sweats. He stuffed them
unceremoniously into his backpack and put his arms through the straps. He
was ready.
     For the next hour Paul ran along the paths in the grounds and though
the woodland occasionally seeing the odd person walking their dog before
finally feeling the need for a rest. He returned to the front of the park
and placed his towel on the dew damp grass of the slopes in front of the
House. Lying there he closed his eyes and, unintentionally, dozed off.
     He had no idea how long he had been asleep but what woke him was a
cold wet snout sniffing him, everywhere. He opened his eyes and saw a large
black Labrador sniffing at his crotch. Paul quickly recoiled at the shock
and sat up, frightening the dog which jumped away from him and started
looking him in the eyes curiously, wondering what this man will do next.
     Paul soon relaxed, "Ah, come 'ere you cute little thing." But the dog
stayed.  "Come on, come on." He patted is bare legs and the dog inched
close enough for him to stroke him. It only took a few seconds but the two
seemed to be good friends and the dog loved the attention.
     In the distance Paul could see a man jogging uncomfortably in his
direction, carrying a lead and calling the dog, something Paul could not
quite make out.
     As the man got closer Paul could hear him. "Sorry, Mate. Megs got
spooked by another dog and ran off. She's usually quite good but some of
the others round here are quite aggressive".
     The man crouched down by his dog and fussed over her.
     "It's alright. She's a lovely dog. What's her name?"
     "Megan."
     Paul then stroked the dog, "Hi, Megan. I'm Paul"
     "Tom. By the way."
     "Hi, Tom." Paul looked into the green eyes of the slim young man
crouching in front of him but quickly looked away and for a split second
his eyes fell on the faded and worn denim of the man's crotch. He was very
cute, thought Paul. His hair was a light shade of brown cut short, but not
too short. Paul liked it. It had enough length so that you could run your
fingers through it and feel each strand gently feather your palm. Then
there were those emerald eyes that led you to his soft and tender soul.
Paul felt that he was dangling, waiting for this man to reel him in.
     This sudden sense of bashfulness was not lost on Tom and he was
picking up on every sign and he was not about to throw this one back. It
had been some time since he had had a boyfriend and this was a chance he
was not going to miss. As soon as he clapped eyes on his slender frame,
toned legs and dark features he wanted more. And when he got closer he
lapped up everything about Paul from his uncertain glances to the smell of
fresh sweat emanating off his body.
     "Why don't you join us for the rest of our walk. Megs has taken quite
a shine to you, and you her by the looks of it."
     Paul smiled. It had been sometime since he had the company of a pet,
ever since he had left home to study and he seemed to be making up for it
on Megan. Mind you she was not complaining she was a big softy who loved
all the extra attention. "Why not?" He replied, got to his feet and bundled
the towel he was lying on into his backpack.
     Tom led them back to the path and they began strolling through the
grounds, Megan darting in front and behind and occasionally brushing up
against Tom's legs.
     "I don't think I've seen you jogging here before." Tom started the
conversation.
     It had only taken a few minutes with Tom for Paul to forget about
everything that was worrying him. This man had a manner that was warm and
enabled him to relax in his company. They talked mostly about themselves,
getting to know each other. Paul explained his current life, devoid of any
excitement or pleasure, which made Tom slightly uncomfortable when he said
that he was doing quite well, a job he liked and a reasonable home. It was
not exactly what he had envisaged when he left University but it would do
for now, he explained to Paul.
     Talking to Tom, Paul felt invigorated and got a new lust to achieve
something more. Even if nothing more came of this moment, even if he never
met Tom again he felt that his life would change for the better - and he
would do it for himself.
     They had been walking for sometime and were now deep along the
woodland path.  Tom turned to Paul. "You look pretty hot, Paul." He said.
     "I know, it's the hour of jogging earlier and now the sun's starting
to warm up."
     Tom looked ahead and just smiled to himself. "Come this way." He said
to Paul as he left the path and went a few yards in to the trees. He
stopped by a particularly large oak tree with a wide trunk and it's roots
pushing the ground up so it was uneven.
     When Paul reached him, Tom began to inch closer to him. Paul
instinctively began to move backwards, he stumbled over a protruding root
and fell against the trunk.  With no where else to move, he straightened
himself up and looked into Tom's eyes as he kept inching closer. Then he
stopped, their faces nearly touching. Paul could feel his breath on his
cheek and then Tom spoke.
     "I said, you look pretty hot." And he placed his hand on Paul's fleshy
crotch and gently rubbed.
     Paul groaned quietly and Tom closed that last tiny gap between their
lips and gently kissed his moist lips.
     After a few seconds, Tom ended the tender kiss and looked into Paul's
eyes. They were neither scared nor angry, not even upset. They simply
looked into his, longingly, wanting this to continue.
     Tom began to kiss him again, this time more passionately, and he
opened Paul's lips slightly to enable his tongue to explore. He kept gently
caressing Paul's now firm crotch that tented the flimsy cotton shorts he
was wearing.
     He then slipped his fingers under the elastic waistband of his red
shorts. Noticing the lack of underwear, he teased the dark pubic hairs
before he wrapped his fingers round the hot, clammy, rigid dick that begged
to be set free and slowly pumped until it could not get any harder. Next he
teased the low hung balls in their soft skin, all the time their lips and
tongues were not parted.
     Just feeling his hot groin was not enough; Tom wanted to taste it. He
slowly dropped to his knees and pulled Paul's shorts down to his ankles,
releasing an angry nine-inch rigid dick that pointed straight into his
face. The head was half covered with his smooth foreskin but he could see
it was red and angry and waiting to be satisfied, small droplets of pre-cum
oozed out causing the tip to glisten in the rising sun. With his left hand,
Tom grabbed hold of those smooth balls again, teasing his cock that
twitched in protest. His right hand then grasped the base of the thick cock
and he gently kissed the drop of pre-cum that had emerged from the tip.
     Paul groaned and looked down, his eyes were met by Tom's who smiled
and then opened his mouth and took in the angry helmet into his mouth and
pushed back the foreskin with his lips. Paul sighed, exhaling the relief
that he had finally been touched where he wanted to be. He leaned back
against the tree, closed his eyes and let the stranger excite all his
senses back to life.
     Tom teased Paul's dickhead and all it's ridges with his tongue, all
the time feeling it twitch and jump at his touch. He heard Paul's breathing
become more laboured and felt it time to take his entire length into his
mouth. With one smooth motion he opened his mouth wide and swallowed all
nine inches. Paul let out a stifled groan as he began to pump the silky
cock and continued to play with his balls.  Soon he felt the ball-sack
tighten and feared that Paul was about to loose his load. As much as he
wanted to taste his seed, Tom did not want it to end as a quick blowjob in
the park. So he freed Paul from all sensation and raised himself off his
knees. As he arose, he could sense Paul's knarled muscles relax.
     After a long deep kiss, Tom turned Paul around so that he was facing
the tree, and tracing the route down his spine with his tongue he parted
Paul's round cheeks and teased his hole. Using plenty of spittle he
moistened Paul's hole and breathed in his musk. The gentle feathering led
to probing. Each stab into the sphincter caused Paul to grunt and his still
rigid cock twitch. Tom's playing got more intense as he inserted one moist
finger and pushed deep within, then two fingers. He was stretching Paul and
the only resistance he felt was in that tight muscle he wanted to breach.
     With the insertion of a third digit, Tom felt the muscle concede to
his advances and knew it was now time. With one final flick with the tip of
his tongue he got back to his feet. Put his arms around Paul and let his
hand descend to give his hard cock a few gentle squeezes.
     Paul turned his head so that he could see Tom's eyes. Paul smiled and
they kissed.  Tom broke off the kiss and spoke. "You OK with this?"
     Paul nodded, turned his head back so he was facing the tree and braced
himself.
     Tom let go of Paul, undid his jeans and lowered the fly. He struggled
to release his hard cock and hook his underwear beneath his balls. With his
jeans gaping and his long uncut dick pointing straight towards Paul's
crack, he closed the gap and prodded Paul's fleshy buttocks with the tip of
his dick.
     With a good mouthful of spit, he spat on his hand and rubbed it all
over his cock and Paul's hole. Using both hands he spread Paul's cheeks so
that he could see the red target. He eased his cock closer and docked with
the eager hole. Holding on to Paul's hips he pushed firmly until the head
poked through. Paul groaned and hung his head, He could see his own dick
stuck in mid air, waiting to be touched and twitching in protest.
     Tom slowly began push deeper until his pubes tickled Paul's
buttocks. Stopping again, he could feel Paul massage his cock, trying to
pull more into him. Tom then began to thrust his cock in and out, slow at
first but he gradually sped up. Everytime his cock brushed by the sensitive
prostate Paul would try to stifle his pleasure.
     It was getting too much for Paul. Tom firm thrusts were taking him
over the edge.  His dick seemed to get thicker and angrier at every
move. His breathing began to get shallower but Tom was relentless and
neither stopped nor slowed. Paul's heart was beating furiously and sweat
was streaming down his brow. One drop gathered on the end of his nose
until, too heavy to remain, it fell. It fell and hit his cock directly on
the head. As the warm droplet touched his dick his entire body tensed, his
balls retracted and his cock furiously twitched. His cum shot out and hit
the tree and Paul let out a long low sigh. With each thrust from Tom his
dick would force out a little more and a little more until it dribbled from
the end.
     Tom knew Paul had come but continued to fuck him. He adored the way
his bowels had tightened around his invading cock and he fucked harder and
deeper. But with the pressure Paul put on his dick he did not last long. A
few more thrusts he suddenly stopped. He let out a guttural grunt as his
dick pushed his salty cum deep inside Paul. After the first explosion of
cum, Tom gently thrust again, draining his dick of all cum, leaving it all
inside Paul.
     With his dick slowly deflating inside Paul, Tom draped his exhausted
body over Paul and laid one gentle kiss on his neck. They stayed locked
together as they recovered.
     After a short while, Tom pulled out of Paul and tucked his limp, moist
dick back into his underwear, zipped up his fly and button his jeans. As
Paul bent down to pull up his shorts, Tom playfully slapped his arse
cheeks. Paul turned around, grinned and tucked his own soft member into his
shorts.
     Paul picked up his backpack and Tom called out to Megan, who was
busying herself exploring the wood. They got back on the path and continued
their walk.
     "What're you up to the rest of the day?" Tom asked.
     "Nowt. Why?"
     "Would you like to come back to my place?"


Thank you for reading. Comments are welcomed and gratefully
received. Please email me at stormwriter@talesfromastorm.co.uk. The author
retains copyright.