What I had wanted from Tony was a commitment. I was looking for a relationship based on trust and love. I was searching for stability and thought I had found it. Then, after nearly two years together, Tony packed his things and moved out. His decision came without warning, without reason. It was just... .over.
I needed to get away. Away from the city. Away from the surroundings that were a constant reminder of my heartache. As a boy I had adored our family outings to the country. The quiet of nature had allowed me to clear my mind of my adolescent worries and focus on matters of genuine importance.
I arranged for a leave of absence from work and rented a small house in the country for the summer.
Upon my arrival the landlord, a ruggedly handsome man in his mid-forties, gave me a brief tour. He asked if I liked to fish. I had never done much fishing, but was certainly willing to give it a go. He told me about an old abandon stone quarry near the property and even set me up with some of his fishing gear.
I spent the first couple of days just getting settled into my new surroundings. On the morning of the third day I decided to try my hand at fishing. At a leisurely pace, I ambled through the wooded area behind the house, enjoying its sweet fragrance.
Soon I reached the old quarry. The sight of the sheared, gray rock and crystal clear water was breathtakingly beautiful. I felt an excitement I hadn't experienced since I was a boy.
I came out of the woods and followed the narrow, rocky path that led down to the water. My sights were set on the huge willow tree which loomed out of the morning mist still hanging over the water. The perfumed scent of wild-flowers filled the air. The calm was staggering. The only sounds I could hear were the playful chirping of birds and the whispering of the breeze as it gently caressed the tree tops.
A shroud of disappointment swept over me as I neared the willow and saw a young man perched upon a slab of stone, occupying the spot I had selected. I considered going back to the house, but there was something intriguing about the young man. Something that held me captive. To avoid detection, I crouched down in the tall, damp grass and watched him.
His fishing pole sat propped against a rock, but he paid no attention to the bobber floating on the rippling water. I held my breath as he looked back over his shoulder and I got a good look at his handsome, boyish features. I knew when he pulled off his shirt, he had not seen me.
Confident he was alone, his fingers anxiously pulled open the front of his baggy, denim shorts. Slowly he pushed his shorts down over his long, slender legs, exposing skin so smooth and tan it made my mouth water.
The angle from which I watched him didn't give my eyes access to his youthful cock, but I didn't have to see it to know it was being stroked with vigor. I was reminded just how much I missed feeling the touch of another man.
He moaned softly. An excited bead of sweat streamed down my brow, the swelling of my manly flesh crushed against my aching balls. With his head tilted back and his eyes closed, he panted rapidly, whimpering an erotic tale for my amusement. Groans of ecstasy told me what I could not see. He was cumming and I was missing the sweltering spectacle.
Frustrated and horny, I waited until he had dressed before I approached him. Surprised, he turned around and observed me suspiciously. There was a slight look of guilt on his handsome face. He was no doubt worried that I had witness his act of sexual self indulgence. With all the grace of a bull moose in heat, I had invaded his privacy.
I immediately took not of a gooey strand of ivory cock juice still oozing down the face of the rock where he had been sitting. He knew exactly what I was staring at and brought his legs down to hide his spent wad of evaporating jism.
"Beautiful day," I remarked, checking out his well-packed basket as I extended my hand. "I'm Jack." With a marginal degree of caution, he shook my hand with a firm grip. The same grip, the same hand, which just moments ago had been wrapped around his erupting cock-meat.
"Well Tim, I'm new to the area, but the guy I'm renting from says this is a good place to fish."
"That guy would be my Dad," said Tim. "And he's right. There's some big fish in this quarry." I nodded like I gave a shit. "They don't seem to be very hungry this morning, though."
I noticed his wandering eyes falling to inspect the throbbing cylinder of hard cock stretching half way down the inside of my leg. The fish may not have been hungry, but judging from the expression on Tim's face, he sure as hell was. He was starving for something long and hard, something hot and juicy. And I had just the thing to satisfy his manly appetite!
Since he had dibs on the spot, I thought it was only fitting to ask his permission to stay. "Do you mind a little company?"
Tim looked me up and down like I was a side of beef. "Not at all. There's plenty of room for two." I baited my hook and haphazardly cast my line out into the quarry.
Sitting down on the ground, I tried to make myself comfortable as I looked back at Tim perched above me on his rock. My poor swollen balls nearly exploded when I caught sight of his huge cock head peeking out . . . . . .
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