I had just stopped in for a moment to get a cup of coffee, out on my way to run some errands. It was a beautiful day—early summer, with a brilliant blue sky dotted with puffy white clouds. The perfect day to drive down the highway with your windows rolled down and the stereo playing way too loud.

I caught your eye across the cafe. How could I not? Standing there, leaning up against the wall, looking all the world like a respectable member of society. Burgundy button-down shirt, cuffs rolled up slightly, khaki Dockers and clean shoes. Sipping your cup of coffee (black, I know!) and looking so serious, so intense.

I smiled at you. A rare smile crossed your lips, a slight nod. I paid the salesgirl for my coffee and turned, walked out the door. I settled into my car and checked the rear-view mirror—you were getting into your car, as well.

I pulled out—you followed. I drove down a few miles, to a small park with a lake. On a weekday afternoon, the park was near close to deserted. A few young mothers with toddlers in tow were playing on the beach, rubbing sunscreen into themselves and keeping a bored eye on the kids.

I got out, and followed a footpath around the lake. A slight breeze cooled me a little, I lifted my face and basked in the sun. The footpath skirted the lake, framed by thick woods smelling green, of leaves and summer. I could hear your footsteps behind me, I could feel your eyes on my body as I walked. With each step I grew warmer, even with the cool breeze.

The footpath separated—I followed the path away from the lake, into the woods. I could still hear the laughter of the kids on the beach, and your footsteps, ever closer behind me.

A hundred yards, two hundred yards... the sounds from the beach grew fainter. Here, in the deep green woods, there was nothing but the rustle of the leaves and the hint of promise. I stepped off the path a few feet, leaned up against a large oak. Waited.

You were not far behind. Your footsteps were sure, confident. You stepped around my tree, and we were face to face. Alone.
I held your gaze for a moment—your eyes were smoky blue, dark and intense.

“Hello”, I murmured, feeling suddenly shy.

“Hello”, you returned... your voice deep, with only the slightest hestitation. Others would have missed it, I caught it instantly.
You stood only a foot away from me—so close I could pratically feel you breathing. I reached up, gently caressed your cheek. My fingers lightly brushed your beard, felt your chin, traced down to the hollow in your throat. Your shirt brushed the back of my hand... I gently unbuttoned the top button.

“So, what brings a nice guy like you to a place like this?” I asked, with a grin and a glint in my eye.

You raised an eyebrow at me, smiled a little. “What do you think?”

I wrapped my fingers around one edge of your shirt, my other hand reaching up to grab the other half. With a violent jerk, your shirt was open, buttons popping off and onto the forest floor. I pushed the shirt off of your shoulders, down your arms, until it pooled at your feet.

I admit, there is something terribly sexy about a shirtless man. I admired you for a moment—and gave an inward sigh of contentment. My hands began to play, tease, and touch your muscular chest. I traced a finger around the tattoo on the right side of your chest, a brilliant sunburst to match our summer day. I found your right nipple, then left, giving each a firm tweak. You gasped in either surprise or pleasure—I’m not sure which.
Slowly, carefully my lips followed the trail that my hands had begun. With a light flicker, I lapped at the delicious hollow of your throat... nibbled on a clavicle, kissed the sweet arch of your neck. By now, I can tell that my ministrations had begun to work... your pulse quickened, you let out a soft moan when I brushed my tougne against your earlobe.

As your excitement built, I could feel the passion building within me, as well. My hands began to move of their own accord, exploring and caressing each muscle in your back, chest, arms. I leaned forward, brushing my lips against yours—and felt the jolt of electricity, the butterflies in my stomach that I always get when I first kiss you after a long absence. Amazing, I thought to myself, that you can still give me butterflies.

Our kiss grew, evolved... from a light brush to a more forceful kiss. Your mouth tasted cool, clean. I ran my tongue over your lips, took them between my teeth, biting gently. My mouth found yours again, this time taking charge, posessing you. The kiss was mine to control, I darted my tougne in and out, slowly tasting you.

I pulled you closer to me, our bodies tight against one another. I was already wet—and I could feel your cock hard, ready, straining through your slacks. I pulled back from you and knelt down in front of you, uuntied your shoes and placing them neatly aside. Next, of course, your socks... one in each shoe.
The thick leather of your belt creaked slightly when I began to unbuckle it. I could feel your eyes on me, watching my every move as I unbuttoned your pants, pulled down the zipper, slowly removed them. You stood before me in your little bikini briefs. I looked up at you with a sly grin, and lightly caressed the inside of your thigh. You inhaled sharply—I guess I hit a good spot. I teased and caressed your inner thighs for a moment or two, and then reached up and pulled your briefs down, off, laid them on top of your pants in a neat pile.

You were hard and ready for me—your cock stood proudly erect, with a tiny drop of pre-cum glistening at the tip. I touched it with my finger, looked into your eyes as I sucked your juices off of my finger.

My hand reached out, caressed the satiny smoothness of your cock. I love penises (penii?)--the shape, smell, texture, taste. Each is different, each needs to be treated as it is an indivudal. I’m still learning the tricks of yours, which makes this all the more exciting.

I caressed your cock, lightly brushing my fingers up and down the shaft, catching your balls in my hand for a split second before repeating the process. Your eyes closed, a slight moan escaped your lips.

I pulled you closer to me, and let my tongue play across your head for a moment. I circled my tonge around the head, spiraling down the shaft until I had your cock deep into my mouth. My fingers lightly touched your balls, as I sucked your cock up and down a few strokes.

I could feel your excitement growing, your breathing grew shallower with each stroke. One hand cupped and caressed your balls, gently, the other hand gripped your shaft as I stroked longer, harder, faster, my mouth matching the rhythm of my hands. I felt you grip my hair, attempting to control the speed—but I shook your hands away, wanting to maintain my own sense of control.

I don’t remember how long I sucked your cock—minutes, hours, it doesn’t matter much. I loved the feel of you throbbing slightly inside my mouth, the moans escaping your lips. You let out a sigh, and pulled back from me. I looked up at you, quizzically, and you grinned back at me. Offering a hand, you raised me back up on my feet.