No Name Fish Camp

[Author: HR]

No Name Fish Camp

When my wife of fifty years died, I moved from Atlanta to a little no-name fish camp near the Everglades. I had grown up in the panhandle of Florida and when I was a kid had dreamed of living in the great swamp. So at seventy I suddenly saw the end of my life approaching and decided to bring that childhood dream to life.

The little fisherman’s shack I moved into sat at the very edge of the blackish water of the swamp, among several other dilapidated shacks surrounding a public boat ramp. The shack didn’t look like much, but it suited me just fine. And I fell into the routine of wandering off into the swamp during the morning, fishing and reading in the afternoons. 

But life wasn’t perfect. The longer I lived in the fish camp, the hornier I got. I started jacking off every night, but that seemed only to get me more horny. I started walking around the shack naked and playing with my big pecker like some pervert.

I was buck-naked when Billy knocked on the door. He was a little guy in his late seventies that lived back near the dirt road that lead to the fish camp. I had seen him in his flat bottom boat with its tiny Johnson motor, fishing the brackish water near the edge of the swamp several times. Had even waved at him.

I opened the door just wide enough to peek out, not wanting him to see that I was naked, and, with a roaring hard on. 

“Hello,” the little old man said. 

When I had seen him fishing he had always worn a hat. Today he was bare headed and for the first time I got a glimpse of his head of pure white thinning hair.

“Hello,” I responded, not knowing what else to say.

“Sorry to bother you but I hear you have a cell phone. My truck broke down and I need to get it towed to Jack’s Station. I don’t have a phone.” 

As he spoke he looked me directly in the eyes. And I found myself admiring his soft green eyes.

“Yeah, sure, you can use my phone... ah... I’m naked but... Hell... come on in,” I finally said. “I was changing when you knocked.” 

The little old man walked inside as I opened the door wider. He glanced down at my hard old pecker and smiled. 

“Looks like you were doing something besides changing clothes.” 

My face must have turned red because he added, “Don’t be embarrassed. I jack off too. Heck, what else is there to do out here in the middle of the swamp?” He stared at my massive pecker. “Damn, I wish I had one as big as yours. And damn, for someone your age, you can really get a hard on.”

I glanced down at my big pecker and found it jumping up and down it was so rock hard. “Sorry. Damn it. I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I seem to be getting hornier everyday.” I confessed as I suddenly found myself enjoying the little old man staring at my pecker. I knew that I should rush into the bedroom and get my clothes but I didn’t. I just stood there in front of the old man, naked.

“You married?” Billy finally asked.

“Widower.” I answered.

“Still, I bet she used to love getting fucked by something that big. Hell, she wouldn’t have felt my little dick it’s so small,” the little old man said. “Damn, I would give my right arm for a dick half that big.”

“I bet yours isn’t so small,” I said, loving the attention he was giving my pecker.

“Hell, I’ll show you how small it is.” 

The old man unzipped his overalls and reached inside. His hand retrieved the smallest dick I had ever seen. It wasn’t any more than an inch long and no thicker than my thumb. “You ever seen such a skimpy dick in your life?” he asked, as he pulled back his foreskin revealing a tiny pink cock head. “Shit, my little old dick looks like a boy’s pee pee compared to yours.”

The sight of the little old man’s tiny dick excited me. Damn, it made me feel so masculine to have such a monster dick compared to his. I found myself stepping forward and holding my big pecker beside his tiny dick.

“Damn, look at the different in size!” I called out excitedly. “Does it get much bigger when you have a hard on?” I asked.

“Hell, I can’t remember the last time it was hard. But heck no. It doesn’t grow much,” the old man answered.

“Get it hard and let me see it?” As I spoke I couldn’t help but grab my own pecker and start pumping my foreskin back and forth over the massive head of my dick.

“Will not be any use. I tried to get it hard last night. Heck, I spend an hour working on the poor little thing but it didn’t get any bigger or harder than it is now,” the little old man confessed.

I don’t know what made me do it. Guess it was because I was so horny. But suddenly, I found myself reaching out and grabbing the little old man’s dick. I felt a flash of pleasure as my hand closed around his tiny boy dick.

“Oh... that feels good,” the old man called out. “My late wife used to suck it. That always made it hard,” he suddenly told me.

I looked him directly in the eyes and said, “I ain’t no queer.”

“No...no... I didn’t mean you were. Just that was the only way she could get it hard enough for me to fuck her,” the little old man said hurriedly.

“Yeah?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Fuck, I want to see it hard,” I said in an angry voice. And then I surprised myself by dropping to my knees in front of the little old man. He moaned as I took his tiny dick in my mouth. 

I don’t know what I expected. I guess I had half expected his little dick to taste like piss, but it didn’t. The taste was nice. And in spite of myself I found I enjoyed sucking on his tiny dick. It was like sucking on a woman’s nipple, only much better. And as I really started to work on his little dick, it did swell up slightly and stiffen until it was rock hard. But it didn’t even double in size.

“Gee, you are better than my wife was,” the little old man cried out. “But, hell, let me take of clothes off,” he added, pulling his little dick out of my mouth.

I stood there eager to continue sucking his little dick as I watched him undress. With his clothes off, the little man looked his age. His body was sagging in every place possible and, unlike me, he was as completely hairless as a newborn baby. But one thing that didn’t sag was his ass. The cheeks of his ass were like little ripe melons. And I swear that for the first time in my life I suddenly found myself thinking about fucking another man. I even reached out and touch the cheeks out his ass before I could stop myself.

“Yeah, I still got a nice ass,” he said, smiling. “My wife used to fuck me with a big dildo, I’m ashamed to say,” the old man confessed as I continued to run my hand over his baby smooth old ass.

Suddenly I wanted to fuck the old man. The thought shocked me. “Do you still use the dildo?” I asked as I moved behind the frail old man.

“Yes,” he confessed, in a suddenly almost breathless voice as the tip of my big pecker touched the crack of his ass.

I didn’t ask permission. I just spit on my hand and rubbed the spit on the head of my pecker. Then I grabbed the old man around the waist and started pushing my pecker against the bud of his asshole. I expected him to cry out or protest. Instead he pushed his butt against me causing the big head of my old pecker to pry open his asshole.

The old man grunted as my old dick head entered him. I have fucked pussy for most of my seventy years, but the little old man’s asshole was better than any pussy I had ever dipped my dick into. Inside his asshole was hotter than any pussy and just as wet. And damn, if my old dick didn’t go into him easier than into a woman’s pussy.

Then next thing I knew my dick was buried up to my pubic hairs in his old asshole and I was pressed against his smooth hairless back. I just reached around and gabbed his little pecker and started jacking it as I began to fuck him.

The image of us two old farts tied up like two old hound dogs flashed through my mind. And damn if it didn’t excite me ever more. Heck, I started kissing the back of the old man's neck as I fucked him while jacking him off.

I don’t know how long I fucked him. Time lost all meaning. I was in heaven. His little pecker got rock hard as I pumped my big dick into his ass. Then he shot a stream of cum half way across the living room of the shack and he just kept cumming.

Seeing the floor covered with his sperm caused my own old dick to explode. I pumped his old ass so full of my man juice that when I pulled my dick out of his ass, cum started dripping from his asshole.

Suddenly we were both standing there, shocked at what we had done, and neither knowing what to say. Finally I said, “I’ll get my cell phone for you.” And hurried to the bedroom where I kept it. When I returned to the living room the little old man was still naked and cum was running down the back of his leg. 

“Here,” I said, handing him the phone, “I’ll clean up the floor while you are making your call.”

I surprised myself by not dressing as I got some paper towels from the kitchen. Then as I cleaned up the cum from the floor and watched him out of the corner of my eye making the telephone call, my old pecker got hard again. The sight of his cum leaking asshole reminded me how much I used to love to eat my wife’s pussy after fucking her. Suddenly I wanted to do the same thing to the old men.

As I cleaned a spot of cum off the floor near his feet, I looked up and found myself staring at his cum dripping asshole. That did it. Even as he talked to some guy named Jack, I grabbed his slim hips and held him, and I pressed my face against the crack of his ass cheeks.

Suddenly tasting my own cum, I went wild. I stuck my tongue inside his gaping open asshole and started rimming him. His voice became shrill as he ended his conversation with the station owner. Then he bent over so that I could reach my tongue even deeper inside him. This I did and we both moaned as I rimmed him deeper than I had ever rimmed a pussy.

I grabbed my big dick and started jacking myself and he did the same to his little pecker. When he started hunching my face with his old asshole I knew he was getting ready to shoot off again. And sure enough he did. And damn if he didn’t squirt a load half way across the room again. Of course, the sight of his cum gushing out of his little pecker sent mine squirting also.

That day was the starting of a long and beautiful relationship that is still going on well between Billy and me. We don’t live together but we might as well. Either he spends the night over at my place or I at his. And we always go fishing together now.

And I can’t even start to tell you of all the great sex we have ... every night.

 

curation: inchhighclub.tumblr.com

Leo's story - part 1

Some years ago I arrived in town and found work packing containers in a factory. Boring but it paid the bills. My workmates were a great bunch of guys to work with. Some days it felt like I was working in the city pound - I've never seen such a mish-mash of people working together in the one place. Guys with advanced degrees worked alongside guys who couldn't read and write; sad and lonely guys rubbed shoulders with madly happy guys. Guys who couldn't think straight after the drink peered blearily at the guys twitching from drugs. Guys short, tall, fat, thin, and all sizes in between. Some beautiful souls who were as ugly as a broken doll on the outside, and some who kept their ugly inside. War veterans, divorce veterans, change veterans - human flotsam and jetsam - every one had a story, and despite our differences, there was a genuine camaraderie amongst us all - we were all hanging out for pay day.

I worked in a team with one of the older guys, Leo, a natural leader if ever there was one. A man very much in control of himself. After a few months he invited me to go fishing with him. I jumped at the chance. A day out on the water, and, well, I might as well say it, Father, I was attracted to him. He kept his hair short and he was a bit pudgy, and a bit jowly, and like I say, I liked him a lot. 

I didn't have any fishing gear, but Leo chuckled and assured me he had tackle to spare. 

"Ha! Sure, but have you got what it takes to catch fish?"

"Don't you worry about that, son, your job is to get us plenty of cold beers, and some good fishing food. Oh, and can you grab some drinking water, and bags of ice, and then we're into it."

I offered him a couple of twenties to help pay for the gas, but he wouldn't hear of it. Generous. The weather report was good, I got my licence, and more than anything, I was looking forward to spending the day with him - just enjoying his company.

Leo had coolers ready when I turned up at his house early in the morning. As I expected, everything was spit-spot. The boat sat looking like a gleaming white swan behind the truck. I helped load the supplies, and we were on the way. 

I couldn't help sneaking a glance or two - staring whenever I could - at Leo's crotch. The outlines of his cock and balls were highlighted in the sunrise glow. I shaded my eyes with my hand and looked closer at Leo as he drove. His skin had bumps and textures - he hadn't shaved in 24 hours, and the white bristles glinted in the light as he talked. I can't remember what we talked about, but we laughed, and I just couldn't take my eyes off him. 

Leo effortlessly backed the boat down the slipway, and the boat all but launched itself. With the truck locked up we sat in the boat, drifting for a few moments before Leo started the engine and we puttered away from the shore. Once in the clear, Leo gunned the engine and we roared down the channel and out on to the bay.

Between the engine vibration and bouncing over the waves, Leo's baggy fishing shorts slipped down a little over his hips. He'd hitch them up, squeezing his cock to the fore, but, within a couple of minutes he'd have to do it again. He never seemed to notice the automatic routine, but believe me Father, those shorts were determined to give me a little flutter every time he hoisted them up. I noticed he wasn't wearing underwear.

I swallowed dryly.

"You ok, son?", Leo shouted over the engine roar.

I bent closer to hear him.

I knew what he'd said, I just wanted an excuse to be nearer. I could smell him - deodorant, sweat, the smell of man, heady with the fresh salt air.

"You ok?"

I nodded. Smiled. I imagined what it would be like licking him in the sensitive cup where his neck and shoulders joined. Nuzzling. Biting. Tasting. Feeling him, his sweetness, between my lips. I shut my eyes and swallowed again.

"Take a swig of water if you're feeling sick - we'll be there soon."

I offered him a water bottle, and took a sip from mine. I stared out at the horizon - there was no way I could say what was on my mind. I smiled at Leo. "I'm fine." I offered him a cinnamon mint. He flicked his eyebrows up and grinned back. "Not long now."

Leo cut the engine back and checked the fish finder screen.

"I normally fool around off this reef," Leo pointed out the contours at the bottom of the screen, "something always comes up. These marks mean fish - let's go!"

Leo pulled rods and reels out from under the seats, and in minutes our hooks were baited and on their way - hopefully - into shoals of eager fish.

The fish were not eager at all. Apart from a few nibbles, they seemed to have no interest in our bait. Despite the lack of fish, Leo and I were having a great time. We broke out the beer, and ate some of the salami, olives, cheese and crackers I'd brought. Leo approved of the antipasti brunch. The weather was good, the sun was heating up, good food, good drinks, good company - so where are all the fish?

Leo was well into his third beer when he pulled his shirt off, and rubbed his head and mopped his brow with his cap. He squinted up to the sun. "The problem is, we're not fishing with enough intention."

"Intention?"

"Sure," he said, "somehow the fish know if you're fishing intentionally. That's when they let you catch them."

"Ok, so how do we fish more intentionally?"

Leo hitched up his shorts and said, "Whoever lands the first take-home fish gets a blow job."

Bang! Just like that. So matter of fact. To say I was startled was an understatement. I looked Leo in the eye. 

"You heard me, that's the deal." He held his clenched fist out to me and I touched my knuckles to his - our sacred workplace seal of agreement.

I'd hardly had a moment to think about this new situation when my reel began to chatter, and then to squeal. My heart was pounding as I fought to grab the rod and get the fish under some sort of control.

The fish fought and struggled to escape, but I managed to bring it up to where we got the first flash of silver, and then the reel squealed and the fish was away fighting again. "I bet that's a sea trout", Leo said excitedly, "bring him in close..." He had the landing net ready.

I eased the fish back towards the boat, and Leo leaned over to land the trout. "Looks like a keeper alright." Leo grunted as he reached out. The fish saw the net and with a sudden lurch and a flick was off the hook and gone. 

I staggered back a step with the strain suddenly gone from the line. "Shit! Nearly had him!"

Leo made a sympathetic clucking noise, put the net aside and hitched up his shorts. Suddenly I realised it wasn't just the fish that I lost. I re-baited the hook with some fresh crab and dropped the line in. "Now I'm very intentional."

Leo was still laughing at me when his reel started to squeal and he was suddenly very serious. Whatever was on the line was doing its best to get free. Leo was like a machine - the rod worked the line, and he quickly began to put line back on the reel. "Get the net, son, we're taking this baby home."

The fish drew up near the boat, gave a few weak flicks, and I had it in the net. Once I'd pulled it on-board it flapped around until Leo gave it a quick measure and then dispatched it with an elegant iki jimi. "Drum, 18 inches, that's a keeper." Leo popped out the hook and dropped the fish into a cooler and pushed ice over it.

Suddenly something had taken my line and I lost track of what Leo was up to. We spent the next 30 minutes or so pulling fish, helping each other land them, releasing the ones that were too small or too large, and having a great time. 

"I've had enough," Leo said, straightening up from packing ice around the last fish. "I'm hot, and dry, and I need a piss more than anything else." He stepped up on the side of the boat, and, while holding on with one hand, pulled his shorts down under his balls and let flow. I followed his lead, and shouted from the other side of the boat, "Sorry, but I have to keep the ship on an even keel." 

The boat lurched and I heard a splash - I looked around and saw Leo swimming toward the stern of the boat. He climbed the ladder over the transom and shook the water off. "Time for a beer."

We sat on the deck, stretched out our legs, and leaned back against the hull. The sun was well overhead, we'd had some great fishing, the beer was cold, and life was good. I coughed awkwardly, and said, "I think I owe you something."

Leo looked at me sideways, raising an eyebrow.

"You landed the first keeper fish."

He blushed and looked down. "I was just kidding", he said quietly, "to call the fish - you heard ..."

"No," I said, "a deal's a deal." I reached over and stuck my fingers over and under the waistband. I paused, feeling the warmth of his belly against my knuckles. Leo didn't look up. I pulled his shorts down slowly, revealing his hairy groin, and the base of his cock.

I paused again, watching his breathing deepening. I could see his cock was getting hard. I began to pull his shorts down further, deliberately stroking the fabric over his cock head. Leo swallowed and shut his eyes; but lifted slightly so I could ease the fabric under his butt cheeks. I teased my fingers across the hairs on his lower belly - tickling, taunting, teasing near his cock, and then away. He shivered a little, and pushed his cock hard out, stretching the fabric. I wanted to bite his neck, he was so beautifully vulnerable. "Do you want me to stop?" I whispered in his ear.

"No," he rasped a little, "no, please..." He breathed in deeply, his eyes firmly closed. 

"Then put your hands away." Used to controlling himself, Leo put his hands behind his back.

I put a squab on the deck, and knelt between his knees. I lightly touched his cock with my right hand, and gently circled a nipple with my left finger tips. Leo's cock twitched at my touch, and his nipple stiffened. I tweaked it, gently pulling, popping it, stoking and caressing. I leaned forward and licked his left nipple, tasting the salt water. I moved back down his legs, and putting my hand on each side of his thighs, I pulled his shorts down further to reveal the base half of his hard cock, leaving the head outlined, straining against the fabric. 

I slipped my fingers down each side of his cock and slowly caressed the soft skin. He shivered again as I blew on the hair at the root of his cock. When I stroked from his firm nipples softly down through his chest hair toward his cock and then away at the last moment Leo squirmed in slow delightful agony and squeezed his legs against me. No, no, my friend, no pressing relief...

I pulled the right leg of his damp shorts open and slowly pushed my left hand up his leg, before forming a fist that I pushed in gently but firmly under Leo's balls. At my touch his eyes popped open in surprise. He was about to say something but I put my finger to his lips and hissed, "Shhhhh..." I began to slowly massage his prostate area with my knuckles, twisting, feeling his balls stroke across the back of my hand. Leo breathed out slowly and relaxed his eyes. I began to lightly stroke circles on his cock head with the flat of my palm, stroking lighter when he strained against the fabric, wanting more, towards me.

We built a slow rhythm - Leo straining slow thrusting squirming against my knuckles, his cock begging for the touch of skin on skin. "Shall I take your shorts?" Leo opened his mouth to speak, hesitated when I stopped mid circle, and then gently nodded. I completed the circle. And slowly, another; before slowly sliding his shorts free of his cock. It twitched in the sunlight and a droplet of dew formed on the cock tip before stringing slowly downward.

I stood, and slipped Leo's shorts off and tossed them into one of the compartments. I stripped down to my boxers, my own cock desperately craving attention. There'd be time for that later. I wanted give Leo my full attention. I opened the tin of mints and left it on the deck - from now on, whenever Leo smelled cinnamon I wanted it to remind him of today. I knelt down again between his knees. Feeling my bared skin Leo murmured a little and rubbed against me. I leaned over and stroked his bristly face, and then, holding his jaw I bent and kissed him a light brushing kiss on the lips. He jumped with surprise and leaned up to to me, silently urging for more. I held his jaw, and kissed him, and tweaked his nipple, caressing and stroking his breast, and as he arched toward me for more, I kissed him hard and pinched his nipple mercilessly. 

Leo squirmed like a fish on a hook, wanting more, in control, out of control, his legs squeezing against mine, his hands and arms wanting to be free, his inner orders them holding back. I saw a tear squeeze out of his left eye and spill like a jewel on the deck as he writhed. I kissed his nipple and licked it, as his breath gasps pushed his chest against me. He sniffed, and took a deep breath, held it, and sighed it out, quivering.

Father, your hear stories where people say their bodies explode, but of course, they really don't. Leo's cock, though, was as hard as if there was a bone in it. I'd never seen a cock so hard, much less have one in my hands. Clear strings of pre-cum seeped fresh from each throbbing twitch; it would take very little for Leo to go over the edge. And when that time came, I wanted him to remember it for a very long time.

I stroked my hands over his thighs - tickling with the lightest, deftest touch - before laying down to get close to his cock. Leo's balls were tight as I began to pluck at them - slowly and gently - stretching the skin, rolling it between my fingertips and thumb. Leo again began to move to a slow rhythm as his body engaged and enslaved itself to my touch.

I encircled the base of his cock with my index finger and thumb, and nestled his balls with my palm and other fingers. The skin on his cock shaft was stretched and shiny. I squeezed his balls gently and licked them, ensuring the underside of his cock stroked over my cheek. I felt it grazing the stubble as his pre-cum continued to ooze. I began kneading my fist in under his balls, making sure to press his balls between my palm above and fist below. His cock throbbed against my finger and thumb. I squeezed my grip tighter and licked up his shaft, stopping short of his cock head. Every time I got close I could feel Leo tense up, every time I stopped he would moan quietly, twitching his cock like the tail of an angry cat.

I paused, squeezing his cock in rhythm with the knuckle kneading. I leaned over and nipped the top of his thighs, making him suck in air at the tiny bursts of pain, each quickly forgotten as I moved to a new spot, and then another. 

I slowed down the kneading, and took away my hand. I held Leo firmly by his cock and balls. I could've led him anywhere.  With my free hand I grabbed out four of the cinnamon mints. Within seconds in my mouth was full of saliva, and I began slowly circumnavigating Leo's cock head with my tongue. He groaned and attempted to thrust his cock up to meet my touch. I held him back, stretching the skin ever tighter. Slowly, delicately, I wrote letters in saliva ink on his cock head, sometimes stroking down into and across the groove of his piss hole.

Suddenly I felt Leo lose control, and his cock began to throb. I squeezed his cock very tight, and stopped licking. "No you don't," I whispered, "not yet." From deep inside him, Leo made a little sound like a puppy whimper. He clenched his teeth and slowly swung his head from side to side, regaining  control.

My mouth, full of saliva, was burning from the mints. Leo's throbbing had slowed, and to further distract him I began rolling his balls between my palms. I gently tugged the skin, and using my thumb on the top and a couple of fingers underneath held his balls apart. I moved his cock in slow circles, and firmly pushed the tips of the fingers that separated his balls into the base of his cock. Leo's cock twitched as I began circling and then writing on his cock head. 

Leo was doing his best to hold back, to be in control, fearful that I'd stop again. His feet were writhing, and he was breathing in gasps. I heard him catch his breath and I knew this time there'd be no turning back. I licked the flat of his cock head and took as much of his cock in my mouth as I could, swirling the burning cinnamon saliva over his stretched and sensitive cock head. I tightened my grip on his ball sack, and pulled down as hard as I could. Leo tried to gasp but was cut short with the shock of the burn, and the stretching of his balls. He tried pull his cock away, to escape the burn; and then abandoned himself as he poured cum into my mouth. It was all I could do to hold on to him, I've never seen anyone cum so hard, so profusely. 

After the rush was over, I held him as he released aftershock spasms, reluctant to let him go. I slackened off my grip on his balls, and released my finger and thumb from around his cock. It was softening, but still pulsing slightly. I got up and straddled Leo, kneeling with a leg outside his thighs. I leaned over to his now peaceful face, and again took his jaw in my hand and kissed him. I fed his cinnamon flavoured cum back to him while I caressed his nipple. 

I gently pushed his chin up, and Leo slowly opened his eyes. Men have a special look deep in their eyes when they've just returned from the rush...

"How was that, Dad?"

Leo stared at me for a moment, before his eyes brimmed and tears overflowed down his cheeks. He covered his face with his hands and sobbed quietly. I got up off him and pulled a bottle of water out of the cooler. I sat beside him, put my arm around his shoulder, and cuddled him into my chest. When his weeping subsided I offered some water and waited for him to speak.

He pressed his finger tips to his eyes, blinked, and sniffed. "I'm sorry," he said. He took a sip of the water and cleared his throat.

"Leo, I'm sorry too, I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't. It's just no-one has ever done that before."

"Oh, you've never had a blow-job before? I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, not that. Well, yes, that too, I've never had a blow-job before ... at least not like that. What suddenly struck me is that I'm an old man and no-one has ever called me 'Dad' before." His eyes started to brim again. 

I hugged him to me tightly. "I'm sorry, it's just you've been calling me 'Son' all day, and I was just - you know..."

"No, it's ok. It's great, in fact, it feels really good. It was just like a stab right to the core, it really took me by surprise. I guess I've always wanted it and never got it. Until now." He smiled.

"Well, yes, a good blow-job is hard to find." 

Leo laughed. "Are you ok with me calling you 'Son'?"

"Are you sure you're ok with me calling you 'Dad'?"

Leo looked down, shyly, "That would be very nice." 

>>> Leo's story - part 2 >>>

 

curation: bigtodd53.tumblr.com