Date: Sat, 30 Jul 2016 17:50:27 -0400 From: Bob Markus <dick101697@gmail.com> Subject: The Cabin in the Woods (Part 3) -- Dear reader, please take a moment of your time to donate to a wonderful service, Nifty Archive depends upon donations from people like you in order to provide its services. This story contains graphic descriptions of sex between two males, if you are not legally permitted to view this material, you assume all responsibility for doing so. -- Day 4: I woke up the next morning, at about five o'clock Bentley was still sleeping. I tried to return to sleep, giving up after a few minutes. I crept out of bed, dressing myself before I headed outside to use nature's toilet and to grab some wood to get both fires going. The morning was colder than I'd expect in the middle of July, but it was a comfortable chill. After rebuilding both fires, I grabbed the fishing equipment and headed down to the pond. Within a few minutes, I'd caught two decent sized fish. Bentley's technique worked all too well. I caught four fish before I headed back to the cabin. Bentley was still sleeping, which was good, he needed the rest. I'd wrapped the fish in the foil, and set them in the coals of the fire, within a few minutes they were done. It was now about eight o'clock, and so I decided to wake Bentley up. As I returned to the cabin with a wrapped fish, I noticed that Bentley was lying flat on his back, and there was a massive tent in the sheet. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I wanted so badly to touch it, to smell it, to taste it. My own erection grew, hidden within my pants. I ventured closer to the bed, saying his name loudly as I approached. No use, he wasn't budging. I was now standing beside him, his dick a few mere inches from my hand. I placed my hand on his shoulder and shook him awake. His eyes opened slowly, and he then went through a routine of long stretches and yawns, his erection not subsiding in the least. He was awake now, and was eating the fish. I walked across the room and sat at the table, pretending to read a book that I had brought with me. Even if I had wanted to read, I couldn't have, his dick was still hard, and it had my full and undivided attention. He finished his fish, and wrapped up the remains in the tin foil. HOLY SHIT! The voice in my head screamed, as he rose from the bed, his dick still hard, and he still naked. His dick, as I already knew, was huge. It had to be seven or eight inches long and about as big around as a golf ball. The table was right near the door, and so, as he walked out the door to use the facilities, I got a very nice, very big view of his very big dick. His walk past me was, I think, intentional. My own erection hidden by both the table and my clothing was throbbing. I slid my hand down my pants with the intention of repositioning it, as well as to give it a few quick strokes. He returned too quickly for me to have achieved any level of actual relief. He walked back through the door, his dick still erect. His modesty left a lot to be desired, about eight inches to be exact. Instead of walking past the table and I as he had the first time, he paused in front of the table before taking the seat across from me. He didn't attempt to make conversation, instead he turned his body so that his legs were facing the bed, and acting as if I were invisible he started masturbating. What was I to do? "Yew jus' goin' sit there and watch?" He asked, answering my question. I stood up, shucked off my pants and underwear, and sat back down in the same fashion he was. I stroked my cock for all that it was worth with my eyes sneaking peeks of his flesh every now and then. Whereas his dick was long, thick, and sexy; my own seemed short, skinny, and disgusting. I measured at just seven inches, and was about as big around as a 50-cent piece. Nonetheless, I enjoyed my dick. Bentley started moaning, his moans weak and barely audible at first. After a few more strokes, and as I sensed his orgasm coming nearer, his moans were like the winds sweeping across the cornfields on an autumn night—sweet and melodious in their own way. He went over the edge with a loud moan, and seeing his load spray over his chest and arc into the air, landing on his face, sent me over the edge. My own climax was just as magnificent in volume and coverage as his had been. He and I both sat there panting for a few seconds. "That was hot," he said amidst a pant for breath. "Yea." "Would've been better if you'd've sucked me off with those purdy lips." His statement punctuated by his tongue sweeping a stream of cum from his upper lip. You have no idea how much better it would've been for me, I thought to myself. To be the one tasting that cum would've been enough to kill me dead, right there on the spot. After our unplanned jerk off session earlier in the day, we didn't accomplish much of anything. We had managed to straighten up the area around our cabin, removing the brush and other obvious hazards, and had gone for another nude dip in the pond the views weren't as arousing as those in the past few days, as having had seen the show earlier that morning dulled my appetite. We'd retired after having eaten a bit of fish and some fire baked potatoes, chased with some orange soda. Sleep came quickly and without event, though we spooned again. I felt, as I drifted off, that the spooning was a mutual want between he and I. I awoke early in the morning, the sun visibly cresting over the trees in the east. I was on my side and Bentley was nestled into my back, there was a strange wetness on my lower back. I was puzzled a bit at first, but not for very long as I closed my eyes and was again greeted by sleep. -- Feel free to e-mail me with feedback, whether good or bad, at dick101697@gmail.com If you're interested in my work, consider visiting my personal website, at https://sites.google.com/site/mylibraryofsmut Note that my site generates no revenue, and is explicitly designed to exhibit my personal works which would otherwise be scattered around the internet.