Date: Mon, 9 Feb 2004 08:22:22 -0800 (PST)
From: Pendragon <pendragon03301@yahoo.com>
Subject: Waiting for Jason 2

A tiny branch snapped under my foot as I crossed the last few yards of
meadow behind Marty.

"Hey there," he said without turning around. "How's it going today?"

I never knew how he knew when I was there. He simply knew. Like
everything else about Marty, he was equal parts of wise man, enigmatic
mystery, hillbilly clown, and amazing sex machine.

I plopped my skinny butt next to his and gave him a quick hug around his
shoulders. His bare chest and shoulders scorched my hand. No surprise: it
had to be 90 degrees and almost as humid this late mid-summer afternoon
in the park. There was a thunderstorm brewing to the south and west, not
a good sign, even though the sun was blazing hot. All of the very worst
weather came from that direction.

"Any sign of him," I asked as I lit up a smoke and handed Marty the
pack. He was always just out of cigarettes and he took the box and my
lighter with a grateful grunt.

"Nope," he sighed, lighting up. "But I'm sure he'll show today," he said,
exhaling smoke and spitting a tiny fleck of tobacco from the tip of his
tongue. "I just know it."

Marty had been keeping vigil on this particular knoll for at least three
weeks. Waiting for Jason. The details were sketchy but the best we could
get out of him was that Marty had been smitten about three weeks ago at
this very spot; he'd confessed his infatuation to usonly a few days
ago.

Our small, ragtag group gathered most weekday afternoons as worked ended.
We'd usually come from our jobs, ready for a few jokes, a little gossip,
some good-natured kidding, and a little down time before heading off to
our respective homes about 6 or so. Sometimes, if the chemistry was
right, one of or more of us would adjourn to the woods or, very rarely,
to someone's home for some recreational afternoon delight. None of the
relationships was serious; we were simply there to have fun.

For a variety of reasons that particular night three weeks ago Marty was
the only one who showed up, he explained to us in his soft drawl. Like
today, it had been hot as hell and very humid and a storm was definitely
brewing. He sat alone on the hilltop, chewing on bits of grass and gazing
off into the trees.

Marty was amazingly patient. I never knew exactly where he grew up -
somebody told me it was somewhere in central Kentucky - but whatever his
heritage, he knew how to relax and let the world go by without much
trouble. Ironically, he was a rather brilliant, very intense computer
programmer mastering the then-new computer video technology. He came from
a big family, mostly boys, and he was somewhere in the middle. He had
hinted that he and his older and younger brothers had been known to "fool
around" before he left home for the big city. I can only imagine how much
fun it would be to be in a whole room full of Marty look-alikes "fooling
around."

We sat, almost breathless, as Marty related his story.

He recalled that as the sky grew darker from the impending storm and the
rumble of far-away thunder, his eye had caught a slight movement in the
tree line bordering the small meadow across the park road from our usual
spot. Squinting slightly - Marty was too vain to admit he needed glasses
- he saw a slim figure making his way up a trail along the edge of the
woods.

Marty sat upright and hunched forward - as if the few extra inches would
somehow get him telescopically closer to his prey.

"All of my senses somehow went on full alert," he said in almost reverent
tones. "I heard, saw, smelled, felt, and tasted everything from that
moment on with a new sharpness." We nodded our understanding and waited
for him to continue.

The mystery figure paused, turned, and seemed to look directly at Marty
before disappearing behind a small clump of shrubs. Martygave his
shoulders a shake, as if suddenly chilled by the sight. Not knowing
exactly why, "I stood, stretched, and marched straight down this hill,
right across that road, and right up to the spot where I last seen him,"
Marty said, gesturing across the way. "Right there. See that spot? Right
there! I mean, he was real!"

When he reached the spot, nobody was there. But down the path he heard a
gentle swish of branches moving back into place. The woods were amazingly
dark for late afternoon. Clouds had blotted out the sun and the rumble of
thunder was closer and more frequent although still far away.

Marty walked down the path heading into the denser undergrowth, pausing
every few steps to listen for more movement. He passed the spot where the
swaying branch had been and came to a fork in the path. One path ran
uphill and, he knew, circled back to the meadow; the other went to a
ledge where it seemed to stop before dropping off an escarpment into
tangled growth below. Doubting anyone would go there, he turned uphill
and walked a few yards. No sign of anyone. He stopped and listened.

Crack. The sound popped up from the woods below the ledge and seemed to
hang in mid-air before dying away. Marty stepped close to the ledge and
looked down.

There, in an open circle of honeysuckle, stood the most beautiful young
man Marty had ever seen. He was stark naked. Gazing up at Marty, he
nodded once, gave his hard dick a single jerk, then turned into the
bushes and vanished.

"I never boned that fast in my whole life. I swear, I went from
absolute soft to nearly creaming myself in a flash," he told us a few
days later. "I mean, here I am, walking through the woods looking for who
knows what, ready to give up, thinking I was crazy, when all of a sudden
there's this fucking beautiful boy standing naked in the woods 30 feet
below me."

"I could have fallen over and died right there," he said with a smile
and a sigh. "I didn't know whether to puke, shit, pass out, cum, or wet
myself," he howled as we sat around listening to his tale.

Breathless and shaky, Marty retraced his steps and found the path that
seemed to end at the ledge. On closer examination, he spied tree roots
and rocks jutting from the ravine that provided a very uneven stairway to
the bottom where another path disappeared into the undergrowth.

His hands slick with sweat, Marty hopped and jumped to the lower path and
crouched low to enter the honeysuckle tunnels. He came to the open circle
and looked up to where he had stood moments before, then turned around
and entered the same path the naked guy had taken.

Not more than 30 feet away, he turned right and saw him: beautiful, dark
haired, thin, muscular, naked, and looking straight at him, stroking a
stunning cock. Marty stood absolutely still, afraid he would scare the
fellow. Dripping with sweat, Marty reached up to wipe the drops from his
eyes and then slid his hand down his bare chest, sweeping the sweat away.
Marty grabbed his crotch and gave a slight squeeze, half relief/half
signal that he was willing to play.

The other guy turned sideways and tugged at his huge boner, showing it
off. He fixed his gaze on Marty, twitched his head sideways, his dark
straight hair flowing with the motion, and magically moved Marty forward
the few remaining feet. The guy stopped stroking and put his hand
forward, palm up, then cupped and flicked his fingers back a few times,
all the while piercing Marty with his dark eyes.

"I couldn't not do it," Marty said breathlessly to us. "I've never seen
anyone or anything so beautiful and perfect in my life. It was like my
legs had no mind and his eyes just drew me toward him. I was dazed, man;
just dazed."

When they were almost touching the young man held up his hand and ran his
fingers across Marty's chest, flicking his hard nipples and stroking down
along his treasure trail. Looking up, he licked his lips and smiled.

"My God," Marty related, "It was as if the sun had never shined it was so
bright."

Marty reached out and touched the other man's chest and felt an electric
current race through them. They pulled together, almost in slow motion,
and simply held on for dear life.

"What's your name?" the other guy whispered in his left ear.

"Marty," he rasped.

"Jason, here," he replied, drawing Marty closer to his face.

Their lips met and their mouths opened, consuming the other and wanting
more.

"I never, I mean never, ever had a kiss like that," Marty confessed.
"Damn near blew my load right then."

Jason grabbed Marty's hips and pulled him into his own crotch, grinding
their cocks together. Marty hunched his hips back and tugged his shorts
and boxers off in a single motion, kicking the clothing aside without
thought. They grabbed each other and mashed their bodies back together,
rubbing and grinding their hard cocks and torsos, holding tight to the
other's ass cheeks, reaching the peak of sexual frenzy.

Jason's fingers spread apart Marty's ass cheeks and crept toward his
sweaty hole. Marty squeezed their cocks together, slowly jerking up and
down using sweat as lube.

"I coulda died right then and there," Marty said, flicking his cigarette
away and exhaling a gray-blue cloud of smoke. "Yessir, almost did, too,'
he cackled.

A huge crash of thunder crackled nearby and they jumped apart, sweaty,
confused, dazed by the sex and lightning. A few heavy drops of rain fell
on the leaves above and the hiss of heavier rain moved closer along the
ridge.

"Damn," Jason said. "Gotta go." And he turned and ran down the path and
disappeared.

The rain poured down, soaking Marty and leaving his clothes a muddy mess.
He picked them up and turned back toward the ledge. Standing in the
middle of the honeysuckle circle, he jerked his cock once, twice, three
times and spurted gobs of cum into the air. Then he looked up and
screamed at the sky, the rain washing away his tears and sobs and cum. He
dressed slowly and went home.

"So, ever since that day, I sit here on this hill and wait for Jason to
come back," Marty says with his half smile. "I know he'll come back. I
just know it."

To be continued . . .

Your comments are welcome at pendragon03301@yahoo.com