Friday, October 29, 2010

The Leather Satchel by bare

Here's the scoop:  My name is David and I'm a 43 year old gay man living in a rambling old West Side house that I bought a couple of years ago after the previous owner finished an extensive renovation. It was exactly what I wanted--a private oasis in the midst of the urban jungle with all the amenities I could ever want.  My partner of 16 years had died after a lengthy battle with cancer and left me financially set for life, plus I had royalties coming in from some natural gas wells I had inherited from my family.  I knew the money wouldn't magically make me happy, but I saw the purchase of the house as a new beginning, a time to finish my grieving and get on with life without my partner. I had quit working when my partner got sick and soon discovered how much I enjoyed being unemployed, although watching over him was no piece of cake.  Over the years I had grown to love travel and understood the value in keeping a small circle of close friends and maintaining a healthy lifestyle.  A wide range of hobbies kept me busy.  My new position in life did require that I keep an office and hire a part time assistant.  I pay him generously to keep the books up to date and keep a close eye on my portfolio and a few other things I'll get to later.  He comes to my home office on a regular schedule.  He's a few years younger than me and has an MBA and came with excellent references.  He's damn good looking and is partnered to an older guy. It's interesting how we are often drawn to those who most mirror our own selves.     

I awoke early Friday morning in a state of sexual arousal. I was beginning to feel my wings and was allowing myself the freedom to just let things happen, and to focus on the present and the positive.  Where do these wonderful erotic dreams come from? Rather than reach down and stroke myself to a climax, I sat up in bed, strapped on my running shoes, grabbed my running shorts, and headed down to my garage, naked.  Davenport City Park, about 3 miles away, is a great place for jogging and cycling and is popular with other guys like myself who enjoy watching and being watched and are occasionally on the prowl.  Sometimes I get lucky, but mostly I'm focused on my running.  I hopped in my black SUV and was at the park in minutes.  After stepping out of the SUV, I pulled on my jogging shorts and began my stretching routine.  The morning was cool, damp, and still pretty dark.  Other joggers were arriving while others had already hit the trails.  After about two miles of running I had worked up quite a sweat and sat on one of the many benches along the park trail.  The glorious hues of sunrise had dissipated and the day was breaking.  Still, there was that sense of early morning twilight and the city was just beginning to awaken.  A few feet from the bench I noticed something slightly hidden in the grass.  I walked over and picked up a well worn but expensive looking brown leather satchel.  On the spur of the moment I decided to take it home in the hope of returning it to its rightful owner.  After getting home and showering, I dried off and sat down with a cup of coffee in my library and began to examine the contents of the satchel.  Report: 



FOUND:  Brown leather satchel
WHERE:  Near park bench, Grace Davenport City Park
WHEN:   Friday morning at 6:30 a.m.

CONTENTS:  Folders containing a variety of letters, summaries, comments, interviews, disks, photographs, etc. regarding the brutal rape and murder of a 26 year old male "escort".
PROPERTY OF:  Detective Adam S.

**********

I couldn't believe what I had found.  Should I close it up and call the police?  How did it end up in the grass along the running trail?   My curiosity got the better of me and I read on.

**********


FOLDER 1:  Labeled Possible Suspect, Jonathon Pierce Fitzpatrick
  a.  Age 26, 5'9", 160 lbs., black hair, green eyes, Caucasian male
  b.  Self employed "photojournalist"
  c.  Lives in downtown loft and
  d.  Houseboat on the lake

Characterization of suspect as per interview with neighbor living in loft below Mr. Fitzpatrick, a one Cheryl Abigail Tucker:

  "I have known Jon for about 6 months.  On the day I moved in, he introduced himself and presented me with a bottle of champagne, which I still haven't uncorked. I found him to be a flirtatious ass who thought he could lure me to bed with the snap of his finger.  Stupid prick!  Told me he was a professional photojournalist but I've never seen any of his work in any magazine or newspaper.  Men and women coming and going from his loft all times of the day and night, and god knows how much is work and how much is play.  What with his thick dark hair and rippling muscles, which he loves to show off, he thinks he's some sort of Casanova, when in fact he's just a pathetic, arrogant sex addict.  I have filed two complaints with management because his wild parties or whatever goes on up there have kept me awake until 2 or 3 in the morning.  Other than that, I don't know much about him and have no desire to.  I avoid him as much as I can.  I have no idea if he's capable of murder, but nothing about that man would surprise me.

****************************************

It was a real turn on to be sitting in my library, freshly showered, hot cup of coffee, and the discovery of this brown leather satchel
that I held in my lap.  I was still aroused after my morning run, and my erection was returning.  Before continuing to read, I began rubbing my cock against the well worn leather.  I felt like I was violating the owner, an unknown Detective Adam S, and his files about a murder investigation.  I could feel an electric, erotic energy pulsing through my body and fantasized of ejaculating on the expensive leather, but I could take care of that later, so I decided to read on.  This was interesting stuff.

****************************************

FOLDER 2: Labeled David Green
  a.  Caucasian male, single, aged 26
  b.  Resident of #8 Grand Lake Cove(a houseboat moored about 12 feet away from suspect's houseboat)
  c.  Bartender at The Back Door


"Jon is a great guy.  He and I have been neighbors for about 2 years.  His mother bought him this houseboat as a graduation gift from college, but if you ask me, it was to keep him from coming home so often.  I've been told she's a real bitch, rolling in money as the result of several marriages. Jon rarely speaks of her.  He comes out here to get away from the city and the noise and his work and just chill out.  He enjoys the company of women, seems to have a real attraction to blondes.  Occasionally he will have a guy over, but I believe to each his own.  He's a good neighbor and I have no complaints, and no, I do not believe for one second that he is capable of murdering anyone."

FOLDER 3:  Labeled notes on interview with a Mrs. Claire Anne Bower, widow, resident of #6 Grand Lake Cove, neighbor to suspect:

"Jonathon Fitzpatrick is a total pervert.  He's a sex maniac and if he aint shagging some girl, he's shagging some boy, and if no one's available, he takes his hand to his big nasty thing and just gets on about his business like he didn't have a widow neighbor like me living next door to him having to watch.  Oh yes, when he's home them blinds all go up and he parades around naked as a jay bird, can't keep his hand off his filthy thing. I've seen him walking around the deck of his boat all times of day and night butt naked.  No self respecting person would do the things he does.  I aint never in my life seen anything like it. You name it, he's done it, and I've probably seen it, and you'd be shocked if you saw what I've seen, and I got photos to prove it all.  I've a mind to move, but on my widow's pension I have no choice but to stay put.  It was lovely out here until Mabel had her stroke, then got moved to the home.  Had to put her boat up for sale, and then along comes this rich blond snob, nose up in the air, big white German car, and bought the place for him. Heard she just wrote out a check for the entire amount.  Never comes around.  Can't blame her.  What mother wants to see her son parading around naked playing with his thing?  I still have a key from Mabel and I seen those filthy photos he's got in folders in his bedroom. Pure trash, I say, but what can you do?  I wouldn't be surprised if he killed anybody, and times I fear for my life here what with all those strangers dropping in. It's just a shame that I have to live like this.  I got photos to prove ever word I just said." 

FOLDER 4: Labeled second interview with David Green:

"Yes, it's true that Jon has a healthy appetite for sex, and with his good looks and sexual endowment the women drool all over him, as do the gay guys and some of the straight men. And sure he's a naturist, as am I, at least part of the time.  Lots of people out here go skinny dipping and sunbathe au natural.  What's wrong with that?  It's a secluded cove with less than half a dozen houseboats, and most of them are only used part time.  He's a photographer and part-time model, so he needs to keep a good tan, and he's damn comfortable in his skin and puts all his models at ease. So what if he's well endowed, I say good for him. The world would be a damn sight better if people weren't so uptight about their bodies. That old busybody that lives on the other side of Jon has nothing better to do but mind everybody's business but her own.  She's a lonely old bitch and a total voyeur.  We all know she takes photos of Jon and his guests.  Sometimes I think half of what he does is just to put on a show cause he knows she's watching.  Yes, he does carry things too far, most would say, but that's Jon.  I've got that nosey widow on my camcorder entering his houseboat and going through his things, even taking photos.  I told him he ought to press charges, but he says no, that she might turn around and charge him with lewdness, and she has the photos to prove it.  But since they both know I got her on film, things are pretty evened out, at an impasse you might say. Like I said before, he's a nice chap, and a damn good neighbor.  I got no complaints at all.   

**************************

FOLDER 5:  Detective Adam S notes on interview with suspect:

After ringing the speaker phone to Mr. Fitzpatrick's loft, the same suspect that owns the houseboat on the lake, he buzzed me up without a word.  His door was ajar, and the moment I stepped in he yelled out for me to make myself comfortable, that he'd only be a couple of minutes finishing up.  Mr. Fitzpatrick was photographing a young woman, early 20s, blonde hair, very nice body and totally naked.  From my vantage point he appeared to be wearing a silk robe.  The apartment is a large loft, beautifully furnished, a large open space with a partially partitioned working studio at the far end.  The model grabbed her clothes and left via a door at the back of the loft, presumably a back exit from the bedroom. Mr. Fitzpatrick motioned me to sit down and asked if I could wait five minutes while he took a quick shower.  I told him I was on police business and time was short so he yelled back he'd make it three minutes.  Ten minutes later he entered the room, completely naked, drying his hair with a towel, and asked if his nudity made me uncomfortable.  Yes, I told him it did, so as he sat down he pulled a small throw pillow over his crotch, tossed the wet towel on the glass coffee table, and reminded me he was in his own home. I began by asking him his whereabouts on the night of the murder.  He claimed to be at his houseboat, and swore that both of his next door neighbors would provide him with an alibi.  At that point the phone rang and I gave a nod of okay for him to answer.  He got up, leaving the pillow behind, and answered the phone.  He talked for several minutes in a low voice to the person on the other line, I couldn't hear a word, but after a while I cleared my throat at which point he said he would ring back, hung up, and came and sat down next to me.  It was impossible to not notice that Mr. Fitzpatrick was sexually aroused, and was totally unconcerned by his nudity or his obvious arousal.  After clearing my throat again, he placed the pillow on his lap and rolled his eyes up.  At which point I explained to him that I was investigating a murder, and was in no mood for playing games with him.  He shot right back at me that he was more than willing to cooperate, but he felt that since I seemed to be such a prude, it might be best if we were to schedule an appointment with his attorney present.  I told him he was not under arrest, that we were merely in the process of eliminating suspects and that I'd like to continue the conversation as soon as he went and put some pants on.  At that point he stood up, walked to the door, and invited me to leave.  Without any evidence to base an arrest on, I left and told him not to leave town.

**********************************

Holy shit!  I couldn't believe I found this satchel, much less picked it up and brought it home.  Why didn't I just leave it alone?  I was more aroused than ever, but continued reading. 

**********************************


FOLDER SIX:  Detective Adam S interview notes with suspect's mother, a Mrs. Jane Williams Fitzpatrick:

Mrs. Fitzpatrick was quite the sophisticated lady.  She invited me into her beautiful living room and served coffee while I questioned her.  She was cooperative and polite, not at all the image I had painted of her in my head.  She confirmed that her son was indeed Jon Pierce Fitzpatrick but denied knowledge of any misbehavior on his part.  She also said that she had not purchased the houseboat for Jon, that he had paid for it himself with monies received from a family trust.  The same was true of his downtown loft.  Yes, she had visited both properties and given her opinion.  As far as she was concerned, he was a young, handsome, healthy heterosexual male who had never been in any trouble at all, other than some insignificant incidents while in college.  When pressed to describe these incidents, she refused.  When reminded that I was conducting a murder investigation, she relented and said it was an innocent hazing incident that occurred while he was in college.  She admitted that her son and a couple of senior members of his fraternity had forced a group of pledges to perform oral sex and other such things common to all fraternities during initiation rites.  When asked if he had a police record, she reminded me that he had never been in trouble.  Again, when pressed she stated that Jon had been arrested, but all charges were dropped, that the accusations had been false, and subsequently withdrawn.  Again, when pressed further she indicated that one of the pledges had required a brief visit to the minor emergency room as he apparently had some rectal bleeding, and had initially claimed that Jon had forcibly inserted his penis into his anus.  Although I could tell she found this extremely embarrassing, she maintained that such incidents were common and had being going on for centuries in many fraternal organizations.  When I asked her how she thought the rectal bleeding occurred, she responded quite frankly that just like his dad, Jon had inherited the genes that made him quite enviable by most other men, and the injured party, who later recanted, officially stated that he willingly had anal intercourse with Jon, without coercion, that he had, in fact, enjoyed the experience and was proud to be a member of the fraternity.   

FOLDER 7, 8:  Photographs of Victim, Suspect et al

**************************
Wow, I thought, this case is certainly clear cut.  Some well hung rich kid has sex with the victim, probably a habit he'd picked up at his fraternity house, things get out of hand, gets really rough, and for unknown reasons murdered his victim.  Maybe the victim was blackmailing him.  The next folder contained gruesome photos of the murder scene, but the victim was not recognizable as his face was totally bashed in.  He lay in what appeared to be a rocky outcrop at the edge of a lake. I moved on to the next folder, which also contained photos.  These photos were absolutely delicious.  Apparently the detective had managed to obtain the widow's downloaded files and there were dozens of printed photos of Jon at his houseboat.  The first photo was of Jon standing on the side of his houseboat, broad daylight, pissing off the edge.  He was wearing a pair of scruffy jeans and a dirty white tee shirt, his cock and balls pulled through the open buttons of the jeans and on full view for his neighbor.  What a package! The next photo was a quite hazy, but there was a woman leaning over the balcony of the houseboat, naked, with large boobs hanging over the edge of the railing.  Blonde hair.  Standing behind her was a man, presumably Jon, in what appeared to be sexual intercourse, but it was hard to tell due to the blurring.  The next set of photos were completely in focus and were all photos of Jon, walking around his houseboat, inside and outside, daytime and evening, sometimes naked or just wearing a red jockstrap, at other times wearing only a tee shirt or a pair of shorts, just doing everyday things.  Clearly he loved being watched and photographed by his next door neighbor.  He put on quite the show--he was well hung with a big cock head, low hanging balls, thick black pubes, hairy legs and a fantastic tan.  His chest was muscular and smooth, obviously waxed.  The next set of photos were all of Jon engaged in masturbating, or having sex with a variety of partners, both men and women.  There was one particularly sexy photo of him fucking a young man, doggie style, on the deck floor running along the outside of his houseboat.  The young man wore a black leather collar with a strap that Jon held in one hand.  The young man's face was turned away from the camera, making him unidentifiable.   The last photo showed Jon, wearing jeans and a white tee, standing out on the street talking to his neighbor David, who was wearing a pair of cutoffs and a black collar around his neck.  It appeared as though they were arguing, but again, it was hard to draw conclusions.  I wonder why the widow didn't take videos? Or did she?  Was David Green the unidentified guy in the photo being fucked?  Why was the photo of the blonde so hazy and blurred while all the others were in good focus?  Was the blonde the model the detective saw in Jon's loft?
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FOLDER 9:  SECOND INTERVIEW WITH SUSPECT, JON FITZPATRICK
           PRESENT: WILLIAM LUKER, ATTORNEY
           MR. FITZPATRICK'S DOWNTOWN LOFT

When presented with the photos, suspect sat back and looked at each one carefully, and when finished, remarked that he had no idea his neighbor had such excellent photographic skills.  When asked if he readily admitted that he was featured in the photos, he laughed, and said, yes sir, that is definitely me.  He said he didn't often get to look at amateur photos of himself, and he thought he looked damn good.  He even took a long time looking at himself. The dated photographs provided him with an airtight alibi for the night of the murder, substantiated by statements issued by David Green, Mrs. Bower, and friends who were present at Jon's houseboat the night of the murder.  His attorney never said a word after introductions. 
************************************

FOLDER 10:  DAVID GREEN
            NOTES ON VIDEOS DISKS

A warrant was issued to search David Green's Houseboat located at #7 Grand Lake Cove.  Among many other items, a video was shot the night of the murder giving Mr. Green AND Mr. Fitzpatrick yet another alibi for the night of the murder.  The video was filmed from Mr. Green's houseboat, by an unknown camera person, who filmed a small gathering on Mr. Fitzpatrick's houseboat.  There were three couples present, all male, including Mr. Green and Mr. Fitzpatrick.  Three of the individuals were naked, including Mr. Green, except for leather collars they each wore around their necks, with leashes attached.  The remaining three individuals were clothed, initially.  It appears as though the harnessed individuals were treated as though they were pets to be used for a variety of sexual demonstrations.  An expert psychologist used frequently by the department made the following report:

Dr. Terence Smalley, Psychologist:  These six men are engaged in sexual behavior common to a small segment of the gay population, whereby roles of master and submissive, or slave, fulfill the sexual fantasy.  The submissive individuals enjoy being sexually used and humiliated, while the dominant men enjoy the power they exert over the submissive men.  In this particular incident, Mr. Green is led around the houseboat, on all fours, by Mr. Fitzpatrick.  He is, among other things, made to perform oral sex on Mr. Fitzpatrick as well as allow Mr. Fitzpatrick to perform rigorous anal intercourse upon his person.  At times, Mr. Fitzpatrick orders Mr. Green to allow a variety of sexual acts be performed on his person by the other men, as well as ordering Mr. Green to perform sexual acts on the other men, including, but not limited to oral sex, anal sex, exploration with the tongue of various body parts, including but not limited to the testicles and the anus.  The submissive men are several times led outside and urinated upon, and forced to allow the urine to flood into their mouths and upon their faces.  The submissive men are regularly mounted.  Some of the sexual acts are performed in a rough manner, as is exhibited by the frequent gagging and choking during oral sex.  Throughout dinner, they are made to stay at floor level and are fed food by their masters.  The explicit nature of the film in evidence speaks for itself.  While most people in the general population at large may consider this type of behavior totally disgusting, it expresses, in my professional opinion, a strange but not unhealthy aspect of the sexual drive found in all humans.  While these documented sexual acts are limited to a smaller, subgroup within the homosexual community, the behavior, in my professional opinion, is harmless and may very well provide a healthy outlet for sexual expression.
******************

I promptly inserted the video disk into my computer and watched in total delight as the party progressed, at least the parts that were captured on camera.  Amongst the couples was my very own bookkeeper Michael, and his lover, Bill, wearing a leather harness around his neck!  I couldn't believe it! I would never have guessed that Michael would be the dominant one, nor Bill a submissive, but what did I know? 

So the obvious suspect is cleared!  Who committed the atrocious murder of this young call boy? Is Jon Fitzpatrick gay, straight, or bisexual?  Why wasn't David Green forthcoming to the detective about his relationship with Jon?  Too many unanswered questions, but clearly the suspect was innocent of the murder.  Suddenly there were three consecutive rings of the doorbell, meaning my assistant Michael was about to enter the house to do a few hours of work.  Before I can get dressed he bounds up the stairs and knocks on the library door.  I quickly hide the satchel and its contents and tell him to enter.  I am still naked and erect.  This is not the first time he has caught me in this position and it elicits no reaction from him whatsoever, and each time I become a little more confident and daring.  I more than enjoy the excitement of the situation, especially now, knowing the kinds of kinky sexual behavior both he and his lover enjoy. In the film Michael appears to be quite possessive of his partner Bill, and while the other men engage in a variety of sexual acts with Bill, Michael is the only one who mounts him, fucking him with such vigor and drama that the other men stop and just watch.  This mounting and rough fucking repeats itself several times throughout the film, each time resulting in the other men stopping and watching, obviously egging them on.  Michael is quite the performer and his partner Bill appears to love being fucked by Michael.  They both love being the center of attention.      
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"Hey David, how are you?  I thought I'd put in a few hours work today, and when you have the time, if it's convenient, I have some papers for you to sign and a few matters to go over", Michael said.

"I'm fine", I replied, "had my morning jog, just got out of the shower, as you can see, but need to shave and get ready for an appointment I have at eleven this morning. But I can easily spare half an hour or so.  Is that enough time for what you need?"

"Plenty", he answered, looking totally nonplussed by my nudity and semi-erect cock. 

"Good", I said.  "I need another cup of coffee, would you like one"?

"Sure," he answered. 

"Okay, I'll meet you in the office downstairs in 5 minutes.  You take your coffee black, right"?

"Yes I do, thanks".

I entered the office with two cups of coffee and found him sitting at the big desk. My heart was pounding after watching the video.  This nice blue eyed blonde with short cropped hair and an MBA--who had been in my employ for nearly a year now--had repeatedly mounted and fucked his partner, urinated on him, had thrust his large shaved cock down his throat and had lain back and chatted with the other men while his partner licked his ass and balls and did whatever else Michael had asked him to do.

"So, what do I need to sign"?

"Just a division order that I checked carefully, and as usual I'll need to notarize it.  Just sign right here, then I'll sign there and that will be done". 

I stood up, walked around the desk until I was standing right next to him, and signed the document.  Then I leaned by bare butt against the desk and watched as he performed his duties as a notary public.  I realized how much I had in common with this Jon Fitzpatrick guy I'd just been learning about.  I loved being naked while others watched.  During the years my partner was ill, I would often get naked and jack off while he watched.  Sometimes he would take my cock in his mouth and suck me off, swallowing my cum.  He asked me to do this in the presence of a couple of the nurses who cared for him, and I willingly obliged just as the nurses obliged by watching and enjoying.  Watching my bookkeeper on video had been like watching one of the best pornographic flicks I'd ever seen although the dominant/submissive aspect was something I'd never thoroughly explored. I wondered how much was staged?  Who, if any of the couples knew they were being filmed?  I realized I was leaking cum in long liquid strings that fell to the hardwood floor. 

"Well, that's all I have for today," Michael said, bringing me out of my reverie.

"Look at the time" I said, I've got to go shave and rush off.  See you next time. 
*****************************************
While I shaved I kept thinking about the contents of the satchel and wondered what the remaining, unread folders might contain.  Well, that would just have to wait as I had scheduled a dental cleaning.
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FOLDER 8:  SUSPECT APPREHENDED
           CURRENTLY AWAITING TRIAL IN NEIGHBORING COUNTY

REPORT:  Suspect is apprehended in adjacent county, caught by several witnesses in the act of bashing in the head of a local resident known by many to be a professional escort.  Trial pending.  Additional charges forthcoming from other locales.
***********************************************
In a way I was disappointed that there was no more evidence for me to read about and view, but I was certainly glad to know that these hot young guys, including my bookkeeper, were innocent of the crime.  I did later learn through the grapevine that Jon Fitzpatrick and my bookkeeper Michael had once upon a time been lovers.  It was interesting that Michael so enjoyed having his ex (Jon) watch him fuck his submissive partner, Bill.  At the same time, Jon and David Green, his houseboat neighbor, had put on quite the show also.  I wonder who fucked who when Michael and Jon were lovers.  Obviously they were both dominant types and the relationship quickly fell apart.  I never learned who the third couple was.  I never talked about any of this with my bookkeeper.  I decided it was best to keep things on a professional level, with the exception of my being naked and erect in front of him.  I gradually pushed things to the point where I would stroke my cock while sitting in the office with him, discussing business.  He had grown used to my nudity and never said a word, nor did he ever say a word about my stroking in his presence.  Sometimes I would fantasize that he would suddenly pull a collar out of his briefcase and harness me up, mount me, and fuck the living daylights out of me, but that never happened.  The idea of having a party like the one I watched happening on the houseboat began to form in my mind.  I wondered how to pull it off.  I'm sure I could learn what I needed on line.  End. 

Tented Camp by bare

I love getting naked outdoors, especially when I'm with my partner Eric,  and even better if there is a third party, who, like my partner,  remains mostly clothed and enjoys watching or isn't bothered by the scene.   I can get highly aroused and sometimes find myself in those rare situations where I feel totally free getting a hard on, or masturbating and shooting.   Sometimes Eric  becomes an active participant in ways that can take me by surprise.  We are quite different but mesh well due to our ideology of live and let live, make no judgments, and always be open to new experiences.   He's olive skinned with deep green eyes while my skin is fair and burns easily.  His hair is thick and dark, his frame muscular, while I'm thin and blondish.   Recently we were traveling with a small group  composed of some particularly eccentric people, I think 9 of us in all,  and were staying at a small tented lodge in a remote game preserve in Eastern Africa, about mid-trip.  The cottages were small with two cots each, and were spaced one right after the other in a long row down a path from the main lodge--the equivalent of about two city blocks, more or less.  As luck would have it,  we were assigned the next to the last tent, which afforded us a fair amount of privacy.  This setup immediately heightened my sense of erotic adventure.  The great outdoors, an exotic location, some privacy, only a few people around, very hot weather, and of course, Eric. 

Each tent-cottage was identical--small,  with a front porch.  In  the rear was a bathroom/dressing area  enclosed by cinderblock walls, concrete floor, open to the elements where the wall came up to meet the roof.  About two feet of open space, plus one window with a wooden shutter--no screens.   The whole of it all was covered by a thatched roof.  The area where the cots were, between the front porch and the cinderblock bathroom area, was basically a Safari tent with flaps that opened up on both sides as well as in front, protected by mosquito netting.

It was really hot, and we had just finished a late lunch after a 4 hour morning game drive and I was exhausted. We had shared the vehicle with a married couple from Arizona who I liked, but at times found annoying.  They were newly married and talked nonstop.  They owned a bed and breakfast and let us know right away that they advertised as gay-friendly and the pool and hot tub area was clothing optional.  I guess being cooped up in a vehicle for hours at a time with anyone would annoy me but I think the constant chatter is what bothered me most.  Eric sat in the front seat and had formed a good relationship with our driver, which I admit aroused my curiosity.   

After getting back to the tent I stripped naked and headed for the shower.  It felt so good to be out of the vehicle.  In the meanwhile Eric had opened all the tent flaps so that the entry as well as both sides of the tent were merely thin mosquito netting separating us from the outdoors. There wasn't much breeze and the tent area was like an oven.  He had taken off all his clothes except for a loose fitting jockstrap that had long ago lost all elasticity. The waist band was narrow and low, leaving a patch of his thick pubic hair exposed and the cup was practically deteriorated.  He had a fetish for skimpy bathing suits, jock straps and g-strings.  He thrived on the stares he always got when wearing one of his speedos--his bulge forced the front of the suit downwards exposing his pubes and usually the crack of his ass.  He owned a pair of white speedos that became transparent when wet--special occasions only.  At the moment, he was lying on his side, his crotch facing towards me, his naked butt facing towards the netting (as well as the adjacent tent), as though he was trying to catch a breeze up his ass or moon animals in the bush.   We had no electricity.

After showering I lay stomach down on my cot, naked, and tried to fall asleep.  Occasionally I could see people coming down the path from the lodge, then disappear into their huts.  Others were heading back to the lodge for a swim.  I was certain none of the pedestrians could see in unless they got really close.  The occupants of the two adjacent cottages might be able to see in but the mosquito netting would make things somewhat blurred, and the interior of the tent was so dark I was confident we were safe from prying eyes.  Birds and monkeys were in abundance and in the valley below was a drinking hole that attracted an assortment wild animals.  In about an hour, everyone but the staff would vacate the place and head out on afternoon safari.  We had already decided we would skip the drive and hang out at the lodge, maybe take in a swim or simply sit out on the porch and watch the animals.  I had already noticed that most of  the orderlies at the lodge were young men--assigned to carry luggage, bring drinking water to the tents, and an array of other duties.  My imagination soared.


I quickly fell into a restless sleep, imagining myself strolling bare ass naked down the path to the lodge, jumping into the pool, and sunbathing with a hard on while waiters brought me ice cold drinks. Ah, the oh so friendly waiters and porters...

I awakened to the sounds of "hello, hello."  I looked up quickly, still half asleep, and saw John, our fellow traveler from Arizona, and the primary cause of my morning irritation, peering into the tent from the front porch.

"Oh, hi," I said.

"Are you guys coming on the afternoon drive?" he asked.

"No,"  I replied, raising my head, realizing how hot and sweaty I had become.

"I told the driver we were skipping the afternoon game drive."

"Oh, I didn't know that," he answered, still peering through the mosquito netting wearing his dark sunshades.  I wasn't quite sure how much he could see but for some reason I felt strangely comfortable and aroused by his presence.  I glanced over at my partner whose cock hung semi-erect down the side of his leg, his ball sac relaxed and free of the jock strap, a clear sign he was in a good mood.  

"No, we are both skipping the drive," I answered.  I could see my partner stirring, and knew he was pretending to sleep.  I could feel my heart beating fast.

"We decided to nap for a while then cool off by taking a swim or sitting outside," I said.  "We're pretty tired from the morning drive.  I just got out of the shower.  We had no idea it would be this hot in our new accommodation." 

"Yea, ours is like an oven.  Are you sure you guys don't want to go?" he asked.  "Who knows, we may see a leopard and more lions.  Lots of photo opportunities." 

"I do kind of hate to miss the drive, but we think it best to rest up and be ready for tomorrow's drive."

"Well, I can take photos for you," he volunteered.  I was getting the impression that John wasn't particularly bothered by a couple of naked men, and wondered how far I might be able to take it.  We still had about 30 minutes. 

"That's a great idea," I said.  "Sure you don't mind?" 

"Not at all."

"You'll take my camera?" I asked.  We had each taken numerous photos of each other at various sites of interest, and knew each camera fairly well, but I knew I'd need to give him instructions.  I had even loaned him some batteries that I was hoping he'd be able to replace soon. 

"Sure," he replied, "mind if I come in?" 

"Not at all, let me get the camera," I said.  "I really appreciate your doing this," I said as I quickly flipped over and let my bare feet land on the reed mat. I stood up, facing our visitor as he entered the tent. "Please, have a seat," I said, pointing to my cot.  He sat down directly across from Eric while I went into the adjoining room to fetch the camera.     

The dressing area was part of the back room--the bathroom--with a place to store luggage and other gear, and was separated from the tent area by a couple of flaps just like the ones at the front of the tent.  They were snapped open with the mosquito netting zipped tight.

"Just a second," I said, "I've got to take a piss first then I'll grab the camera."  As I stood there naked and peeing, knowing this fellow traveler was sitting a few feet away on my cot, right across from my partner who was hanging free from his jock, I began to sport an erection that I knew I had no control over.  What the hell, I told myself, make this an adventure and have some fun.  What's the worst that could happen?

As I entered the room with the two cots, camera in hand, I noticed my partner was awake and partially propped up on his pillow, still laying on his side, still fully exposed, facing our visitor while they made small talk.  I motioned for him to scoot his butt back so I could sit on his cot, which naturally placed his crotch right up against my butt.  He was almost immediately erect and pressing hard against me.  I was quite aroused by the situation. 

The cots were substantial--Army issued with wooden frames.  As I leaned forward to hand John the camera, I realized that the edge of the cot and the position of my ass was strategically located so that if my partner wanted to, he could easily access my hole.  Just as that thought crossed my mind, I could feel the head of his cock massaging the rim of my ass.  Wow.  I couldn't believe it.  He was hard as a rock.  

"I have the camera set so that it will automatically cycle off," I told John, "about 30 seconds after you take a photo," hoping he'd realize the importance of being conservative with batteries in this remote location.

I could feel Eric's cock awkwardly trying to enter me, and I was really wishing I had lubed my ass as that would have been totally awesome having Eric inside me as I conversed with John.  No sooner had that thought occurred to me than I could feel Eric sticking his finger up my ass inserting a dollup of lube, and the next thing I knew I could feel his cock slowly entering into my ass.  The feeling was totally ecstatic.  I just kept making ridiculous conversation with John so that I could stay in my forward position which allowed Eric to penetrate deep inside me, thrusting harder before gliding nearly all the way out before his next forward thrust.  Of course with the noise, the movements and everything else, there was no doubt whatsoever that John knew what was going on--hell, I could barely keep my balance!  The weirdest part of it all was that he obviously didn't mind, in fact, he must have enjoyed it as he played right along, talking about the camera, the photo opportunities, his wife, all the while not saying a word about the fact that he was in the room talking to two guys who were fucking right in front of him.  It was incredible! 

"So basically you turn the camera on and point and shoot?" he asked. 

"Yes," I replied, stifling a moan as Eric' cock glided deep inside me, almost making me fall forward,  "just give it a second to self-focus before pushing the button all the way down."

"What about batteries?"

"I just put in a new set so they should be fine."

John was looking through the camera lens with the camera pointing directly at me and pushed the button. 

"Hey, look," he said, "nice photo. But, it's a little bit dark in this tent.  Can I take a couple of more shots in a more lighted area?"

"Sure", I said, "either go out on the porch or use the bathroom area, it's very bright in there. "

"How about I take some photos of both of you, you know, continuing the same thing you're doing right now, in a lighted area, that is, of course if you guys would enjoy that sort of thing."

Before I could totally grasp the nature of his question, Eric responded by saying "Sure, John, we would both like that very much.  Let's move into the back room where there's plenty of light and lots of space.  Why don't you take a dozen or so photos of us after we get into position.  "And you," he said, addressing me as he withdrew his cock and quickly stood up beside me, "get moving, John doesn't have that much time."

The moment we stepped into the light of the back room, Eric had his hands at my hips and ordered me to bend over and reach for my feet as he plunged his cock into my ass.  I was so turned on I was nearly oblivious to what was going on, but Eric was fucking me real hard and encouraged John to keep moving around us shooting photograph after photograph from a variety of angles.  The sound of Eric's skin slapping against my butt was all I could hear, that and his heavy breathing.

"John," Eric began with air of authority, "why don't you take some really close up shots?  Let's get some of my cock head just before entering John's hole, then as it enters, and then, bang, with it all the way in. Yea, just like that."  

"You know, my wife would really enjoy watching this, really, as much as I am enjoying it right now," John said as he continued watching intently, still clicking away on the camera as Eric continued his fast and furious pounding against my ass.  "That is, of course, if that's something you guys would be interested in."

"That's a real possibility," said Eric, "but I'm about to fucking cum in this hot tight ass, so just take a few more shots, some close up would be nice, show them to your wife and we'll take it from there."

"Cool, it's a deal.  This is a total turn on.  My wife will be thrilled. "  

At that very moment Eric let out a loud moan as he shot his warm juice deep into my ass. 
John just stood there watching as Eric's pounding came to an end and he withdrew his swollen cock.   

"See you later, John,"  I said as I stood up with Eric's arms tight around my chest, my arms reaching up behind his head, pulling him forward for a deep kiss.  "That was so fucking hot," I said.  "Simply unbelievable."

"Yea," he said, "and you're a great sport.  Let's get you off your rocks, however you want...now or later, I'll blow you, you can fuck me, whatever you want."

"Um, let's wait and see what happens when they get back.  By that time you'll be recharged and we'll both be ready to go, and I've got some pretty interesting ideas coming into my head right now."

"Oh yea, like what?" he asked.
"You'll just have to wait and see, but for now, let's go for swim."