Piper and Alph

© 2007 by Anel Viz. All rights reserved.

 

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4.  Love Nest

       The hike had worn them out, so they slept in the next morning.  The woke as they had the previous day, with their arms around each other and Alph’s morning erection pressing into Piper’s hip.

       Piper crawled out of bed and Alph made a move to follow him.  “Stay right where you are,” Piper told him.

       “But I have to pee.”

       “This will only take a second.”  He picked up his camera from the dresser, zoomed in on Alph’s dick, and snapped a picture.  “I wanted a souvenir,” he explained.

       “OK, you have your souvenir.  Now may I empty my bladder?”

       “By all means.  And switch on the coffee pot on your way.”

       He thought it had to be one of the longest pisses he ever took.  When came back into the room, Piper had his eye fixed on the viewfinder and was looking appreciatively at the picture he had taken.  “Feel better?”

       “Much better.”

       “I’m glad.  Now let me take another, one of your dick at rest.  That way I’ll be able to compare the two.”

       “You mean compare the one.  What do you want to do, add it to your ‘before and after’ collection?”

       “I don’t have a collection, not unless I’m starting one now.  But ‘before and after’ is exactly what I want.  I mean to show them to all my friends and have them guess before and after what.”

       Now that the ice was broken, Piper had turned into more of a tease than Alph.  It had been the other way around in the e-mails.

       Alph stood legs akimbo for the photo and then asked, “Is that all?”

       “Yes.  Now we can go to the beach.”

       “Don’t I get to take pictures of you?”

       “We can do that at the beach.”

       They had coffee, shaved, spent too much time deciding what to take with them, dawdled and malingered, so the parking lot was packed when they got there.  It was more than a quarter-mile walk to the shore, and to get to the nude beach you had to take trail off to the side that ran through a field of wildflowers and then into a stand of trees before it swerved down toward the ocean.  Alph wondered if they would have to repeat yesterday’s hike to get there.  “Did you remember to bring the camera?” he asked.

       “No, I left it in the room.  Well, there’s always tomorrow.”

       “There’s tonight too.”

       The path came onto the beach in the middle of the mixed section.  The gay area was another quarter-mile off to the right.

       “Do we get undressed here,” Alph asked, “or wait till we set out the blanket?”

       “Wherever you like.  I always wait till I get to where there’re just men.  I’d rather not be naked when there are women around.”

       “Why on earth not?  Are you afraid you’ll get hard?  I thought you didn’t like women.  I mean, that you weren’t attracted to them.”

       “I’m not.  I’m frightened of them seeing me naked.  Guess I’m uptight.”

       Alph was already taking off his clothes.  “I dare you,” he said.

       “Darers go first.”

       “I already have gone first.”

       “Then I guess I have to.”  He stripped down to underwear, hesitated, and asked again, “Do I have to?”

       “Yes.”

       He slipped off his undies and they walked towards the gay area past batches of naked men and women of all shapes and sizes.  “See?  It isn’t so bad, is it?”

       “It’s awful.  Only kidding.  They’re not even looking at me.”

       “Of course they aren’t.  There’s nothing sexual about coed nudism.  When we get to where the gays are, then they’ll look.”

       “No they won’t.  At you they might, but not at me.”

       “That’s because you’ve been here before.”

       “You’re just flattering me.”

       “No, I’m not.  I look at you, don’t I?”

       The mixed couples and groups gave way to single men spaced far apart, then men in couples and groups.  It was not as crowded as Alph had expected, and he said so.

       “That’s because there’re a lot more of them in the enclosures.”

       Alph saw that the dunes were lined with little nest-like structures pieced together out of driftwood, some with walls as tall as a man.  “Let’s find one for us,” he said.

       “They’re all taken.  Can’t you see?”  A stick had been stuck like a flagpole into all the nests with a towel or some article of clothing attached to it.  “We got here too late, and we don’t have an umbrella.  I was counting on one being available so we’d have a little shade.  Now we’re going to burn.”

       “Didn’t you bring sunscreen?”

       “Yes, but it’s not very strong.”

       “Then we’ll lay it on thick.  We’ll smear each other down with gooey white stuff while everyone watches.”

       “They won’t.  They’re into another kind of gooey white stuff.”

       “Let me do you.  I want to go for a dip first so it won’t wash off.  Then you can do me.”

       “You’re nuts.”

       “What about my nuts?”

       “You’re going to freeze them off.”

       Alph waded in as far as his shins, then turned around and ran straight out complaining of frostbite.

       “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Piper said.

       “If we just sit here, will a lot of cute studs come prancing by?”

       “Probably not.  Most of the guys are pretty well settled in by now.  Maybe a couple of cruisers who haven’t had any luck, but they won’t be the prettiest.”

       “Then I think I’ll go for a stroll and see what there is to see.”

       “To check out the merchandise or to parade your own?”

       “The former.  The only thing I have to show the younger set is that I have nothing to hide.  Want to come?”

       “Yes, I’d love to cum, but I have everything I’d want to look at right here.”

       “Not for long, because I mean to take a walk.  You’re sure you don’t want to join me?”

       “No thanks.  Have fun.”

       Alph stayed away so long Piper thought he must have hooked up with someone.  Then he saw him at the far end of the beach, watching a group of young studs involved in a game of paddleball.  It looked worth the effort to walk over and watch with him.  He wouldn’t have minded checking out their sportsmanship, and it provided an opportunity to stake his claim on the spectator.

       Alph turned his head when he sensed someone standing next to him and gave him a broad smile.  “It’s you!  Hi!  Decided to get a little exercise after all, have we?  You know, this is a very nice beach.  Scenic, friendly.  Hot, too.  Let’s come back tomorrow.”

       There were five players in all, and they were having so much fun it was impossible not to enjoy watching.  They must have been college kids, very much in shape and of course absolutely naked, every one of them an eyeful.  “You guys want to play too?” one asked.  “There are more paddles by the fire pit.”

       They had come as a group and planned on camping there for the night though it was strictly forbidden, hence the circle of stones and the pile of driftwood for the evening cookout.  There must have been more of them, for they laid claim to four nests, one next to the other.

       Alph shook his head.  “We prefer to watch.”

       “I can see you like to watch.  Watch away.”

       A simple game, paddleball, with only one rule: keep the ball in the air.  No boundaries, no order of play.  If it comes near you, try to hit it; if it threatens to land far outside the circle of players, run after it.  The fun is in the motion, in the exchange of encouragement and taunts, in the laughter.  Dashing forward and back, lunging to one side or the other, almost tripping when they had to bend and stretch way forward to get at the ball, hopping backward when it came so close they had to hold the paddle right up to the body, turning round to hit it back over their heads when it fell behind them.  A dance with no set steps.  When it threatened it land in the water, the first to see where it was headed called out someone’s name, who had to splash into the surf and catch it in time.  He’d quickly high-step it back to shore back, lifting his knees to keep his feet out of the icy water while the others applauded his success – unless they were applauding how his dick bobbed up and down.  And as I said, all five of them were naked and all young – slim, broad shouldered, muscled backs, strong arms and legs, firm, rounded rumps, and no jiggling guts, just jiggling nuts.

       Two more young beauties emerged from a dalliance in the dunes and joined the game, a few tiny beads of semen still clinging to their pubic hair.

       “Seen enough?” Alph asked.  “I could use something to drink.”

       They walked back to the blanket holding hands.  “Which one did you think was hottest?” Alph asked.

       “Are we going to play that game again?”

       “What game?”

       “The one we played with the book you gave me?”

       “Why not?  This time we got to see both sides of them, so it’ll be less contentious.”

       “OK then, the blonde.”

       “They were all blonde.”

       “The bleached blonde.”

       “They were all bleached too.”

       Alph fell asleep lying on his stomach.  Piper could see him starting to turn pink, but hesitated to wake him.  By the time he did it was too late.  Alph yelped when he touched his shoulder.

       “That’s one hell of a burn you got there.  We stayed out in the sun too long.  It’s my fault.  I should have put a towel over you or something.”

       “Damn it.  My butt too?”

       “Not there for some reason, but the back of your thighs are pretty pink too.”

       “So I’m pretty in pink?”

       “I wouldn’t say that.  But we’d better be getting back to the motel before you burn more.”

       “Put some of that lotion on me first, will you?”

       “It won’t do much good.  You’re burned already.”

       “It’ll make it feel better, though.”

       “I have some stuff that will do an even better job back at the motel.  It’s been known to work miracles.”

       “I believe in miracles.”

       Because of the sunburn Alph had to lean forward in his seat on the drive back to the motel.

       “Lay on your back first if you can, and I’ll get the spots on your front that look like they picked up too many rays,” Piper said, “then I’ll do your back, and lay it on thick.  We don’t want the stuff to rub off on the sheet when I do your front.  You should give it at least fifteen minutes to soak in.”

       “What’s it called?”

       “I don’t know if it has a name.  It’s some concoction my masseur cooked up – rare aloes and fragrant oils and exotic extracts.  He mixes it all up, puts it in a plastic bottle, and sells it to me cheap.”

       “I didn’t know you have a masseur.”

       “Well I do.  I get to him about once a month.”

       “He gets you off?”

       “No, he’s strictly legit.  But I bet he’d do one hell of a job if that was included in his services.”

       Alph’s back was too sensitive to lie on, so Piper soaked a bath towel in cold water, wrung it out, and placed it on the floor for him.  Then he knelt beside him and began smearing the thick, slippery, cooling cream where he thought it was needed, starting with his forehead, nose and cheekbones, then his upper and lower arms and the back of his hands.  He rubbed it in tenderly, working with his thumbs.  Then he did his chest.

       “That’s so soothing,” Alph said.  “I hope I’ve burned a little on my dick as well.”

       “Doesn’t look like it,” said Piper, and skipped all the way down to the top of his feet, which after his back had had the worst of it and needed a thick coating.  He put a lot less on his shins, somewhat more on his thighs, then dabbed a little on his cock and balls for good measure and gave a friendly squeeze.

       “I thought I didn’t need it there.”

       “You don’t.  I just did it to please you.  And me.”

       Alph put himself face down on the bed to receive the most important part of the therapy.

       The back of him was in worse shape than it had looked at the beach, his shoulders and upper back an angry vivid pink.  Piper tried to be gentle, but Alph flinched when he spread the cream.

       “I’ll put a coating on the worst of it and leave it to soak in while I do the rest of you.  That way it’ll hurt less when I come back to it and work some more in.”

       Though it looked inflamed, Piper was able to do his neck without it hurting too much.  Then he did the back of his arms and worked his way down the sides of his body, which hadn’t got too much sun.  Alph had his head turned to one side, and when Piper came to kneel on that side of his body he opened his eyes.

       “Look at you!  You’re dripping!  For shame!”

       The back of Alph’s legs were also a deep pink.  Piper started just below the buttocks and lovingly worked his thighs, his calves, and finally his Achilles tendons, which also needed healing.

       “There!  The stuff on your back is still soaking in, so while we wait I’ll do your butt as a special treat, although it doesn’t need it.”

       “A treat for whom?”

       “For both of us, of course.”

       He turned this bonus therapy into an exercise in caress and exploration – and, to be perfectly honest, leakage.  The fleshy globes seemed relatively untouched by the sun, and he made free to lavish his own touch on what the sun had neglected.  As a committed bottom he had never been much into backsides, but he knew that even the most committed top appreciated a good butt massage, and (also as a committed bottom) he was committed to his partner’s pleasure.  Imagining the orgasm of the man who was fucking him had always been as much a part of getting him off as the pressure on his prostate.  Now he doubled his pleasure by imagining that it was Alph massaging him.

       It took a good deal of imagining.  There was nothing to tell where Piper’s buttocks ended and his thighs began except that the latter were separated by a space and the former by an indentation.  Alph, however, had a real ass, an ass he would have wished on himself.  If it lacked the tight-muscled prominence of those lovely, dimpled, boyish bubble-butts God bestows on those He most favors, at least it was round and substantial and springy to the touch.  What a splendid piece of work it must have been in its heyday – a delight for the eyes, for the hands a delectation, and for the tongue delirium!  He could picture him in his late teens and early twenties much like a Greek god.  If Alph had known what he was thinking, he would have laughed till the tears came.  He could show him pictures that would burst his ingenuous bubble!

       No ass man himself, Piper nevertheless immersed himself in the task at hand, kneading, caressing, probing with enthusiasm, and took much pleasure in it, while at the same time conveying what attention he hoped would be lavished on his puny rump if it ever came to Alph fucking him.

       At length he returned to his upper back to finish off, and was generous with the cream and gently with his thumbs.  “Feel better?”

       “A lot, but it still burns.  I’ll have to sleep on my stomach.”

       “But not on my back, I guess.  We won’t be making love tonight, will we?”

       “Only if we can do it without your touching me.”

       “What shall we do instead?  I’m not tired yet.”

       “You promised I could take pictures of you.”

       “Naked?”

       “How else?”

       “Do you have to?”

       “Why should you be the only one with souvenirs to take home?”

       “OK then, but don’t show them to anyone.”

       “Trust me, I won’t.”

       “Not even to your boyfriend?”

       “Well, maybe to my boyfriend.  He’ll want to see, after all.”

       “Good.  Show him the worst ones.  That way he won’t be jealous.”

       Alph spent about fifteen minutes taking naked photos, every view from every angle in every position he could think of.

       “No close-ups?” Piper asked.

       “My favorite view of a man’s body shows how it all fits together.  I’m not into detached body parts.  If I decide I want some I can always do some cropping.  Now let’s have a few of you standing at attention.”  Piper puffed up his chest and sucked in his stomach.  “Your dick, idiot.”

       “How am I supposed to I get it up?”

       “Use your hands.”

       “Show me.”

       “Your hands.  Your own hands.”

       “You want to watch me beat off?”

       “No, I want to watch you get hard.  You can use the oil we used on our feet the other night.”

       Piper’s feeble attempts at self-manipulation produced no noticeable results.  “It’s hopeless,” he opined.  “I feel too self-conscious.”

       “This doesn’t bode well.”

       “For your dirty pictures?”

       “For our dirty sex.”

       “How so?  You’re the top; you have to do all the work.  I guess I’m just not that interested in myself.  I like hot men like you.”

       Alph made a self-deprecating gesture.  “Aw, shucks!”

       “How about I watch you get it up?  I bet that will make me hard.”

       “That’s what you’ve been waiting for all along, I bet – to see me play with myself.  Well, it generally doesn’t work for me standing up, and it hurts to lean back against the chair...”

       “Excuses, excuses.”

       “I was about to say: ‘but I’ll do my best’.”

       His best was better than Piper’s.  He dribbled some oil on his palm, wrapped his hand around dick palm down, and rotated his wrist slowly so it both swirled around his cock and twisted it, then he’d open his hand when the palm was facing up, let his dick fall out, each time a little bigger, before starting the procedure over again.  As it swelled, he started squeezing as well as swirling.

       “You’re a master at that.  I told you I should put myself in your hands to get hard.  How big will it get?”

       “You know the answer to that from this morning.  What about you?  Looks to me like you’re coming along nicely.”  And in fact, watching Alph was getting Piper hard, and it continued to do so, and Alph got his pictures.

       They woke up late again, again in a tangle of arms and legs.  It had turned even colder than the night before, and they’d pulled a sheet up over them.  Piper sat up in bed, and Alph rolled onto his stomach and snuggled into his pillow.

       “How’s the sunburn?”

       “It doesn’t hurt.  Maybe a little warm, but not bad at all.  What did you rub on me last night?  Some kind of magic ointment?”

       “You might call it that.  Let’s have a look.”  He pulled the sheet down and gazed at his nakedness, then ran his hand gently down his back and over his buttocks to his knees.  “You might turn me on to rear views yet.  It’s not all bright pink anymore; you may even have picked up a little color.  We’d better keep away from the beach today anyway.”

       “But I want to go to the beach!”

       “There are other things we can do.”

       “I want to go to the beach!”

       “What a spoiled little boy you are this morning!”

       “Then spoil me some more.”

       “You win, we’ll go to the beach.  But you’ll have to wear a tee-shirt.”

       Alph pouted.  “And pants too?”

       “No, you can go bare-assed if you want.  It’s just your back that’s not completely cured.”

       “Then let’s go to the beach.  I want to feel the breeze blow by my balls.”

       “We’ll only spend a couple of hours there, you understand.  We can stay longer tomorrow.  We’ll find something else to do till lunch and go to the beach afterwards.”

       “Good, let’s sleep till lunchtime.  That way I won’t be tempted to lie out in the sun and fall asleep again.”

       “Lazy!  Can’t you think of something better to do?”

       “We can play unstrip poker again, but with new rules.”

       “What rules?”

       “Our pants go on last.”

       “Silly.  That’s how we played last time.”

       “Was it?  I forgot.  Old rules, then.”

       They headed down to the beach after lunch.  As soon as they reached the sand, Alph ripped everything off and went galloping off towards the gay section.

       “Hey!  You promised to keep that tee-shirt on!”

       The beach was nearly empty now that the weekend was over, and they had no trouble finding a little driftwood nest all to themselves.  They picked one for its higher walls, spacious interior, and relatively isolated position.  “This’ll give us some shade,” Piper said, as he knelt to spread out their blanket.

       “Good.  Then I can keep my tee-shirt off, right?”  He turned around and began knotting the shirt to a stick to stake their claim.

       “And we’ll have more privacy this time.”

       “Then I may as well put everything back on.  You’ve seen me already.”

       “Can’t I see it again?  I liked what I saw.  Please?”

       “You lewd, lewd man.  I say ‘me’, and all you can think about is this.”  He turned and waggled his dick in his face for a second, then went back to tying the shirt.  “Don’t you go thinking that we’re going to try anything here.  I’m not into gritty.”

       “That reminds me,” Piper said.

       “What reminds you?”

       “Your dick in my face.”

       “This I gotta hear.”  He plopped down on his knees next to his friend.  “What does it remind you of?”

       “That I forgot the camera again.”

       A radio in another love nest some hundred yards further down the beach was blaring rap music, hardly what you’d call romantic – all about sex and saying nothing that would make you want to have it.  “It’s times like this you wish the rangers did come around to check up on us every so often so they’d make them turn the damn thing off,” Piper complained.

       They didn’t try anything, as Alph had phrased it.  There was a bit of a breeze that day, and the sand filtered through the cracks between the driftwood, leaving a thick coat on everything inside their love nest.  They’d only brought one magazine, so they took turns reading and sleeping, one sitting up to read while the other lay with his head in his lap, his cheek resting on his privates.

       Piper finished his article and smiled down at his sleeping lover-to-be.  Watching him breathing peacefully, smiling, curled in fetal position, he could feel his dick begin to harden.  “Oh God,” he thought, “it’s going to wake him up.”  Then he thought: “Maybe he’ll take me in his mouth.”  But Alph didn’t wake up.

       He had had more than ample opportunities to check him out since the innocent morning when they woke up naked together and, what’s more, to inspect him thoroughly (for ticks), but until the most thorough of those inspections, the anointing of his sunburned body the night before, whether this man would become his lover had remained an open question.  Looking now at the gentle curves that this not at all unattractive middle-aged man had to offer in place of toned muscle, he marveled at how well he had come to know a body he had yet to make love with.  He gazed longingly at his softened circumcised penis, cozily ensconced in its own little love nest of pubic hair, the glans resting gently on the pillow-like scrotum as the man’s face lay pillowed in his own lap.  How familiar it had become, and in so short a time!  He knew its slow arousal and its stiff awakening to the pressure of a full bladder.  No, not slow.  Leisurely would be a better word.  The first stirrings came easily, but it did not snap to immediate attention.  Instead it swelled lethargically, inch by imperial inch, until it rose like a scepter held high in front of an awestruck and adoring populace.  He imagined gripping it, an iron rod swathed in white silk.  He imagined fondling it, an elusive, wagging pendulum.  He imagined gnawing on it, a bone between his doggy paws.  He imagined sucking on it like a popsicle.  He imagined...  Daydreams!  It slept on, undisturbed and deflated in soft repose.  The only erection inside their driftwood love nest was his own.

 

Posted: 03/14/08