Saturday, April 18, 2009

Jeff's Naked Adventures, episode two "Jet-ski Nudeski"

Jeff was just dozing off, lying on his back on the
chaise, stark naked in the warm sun of his fenced back
yard. He'd just finished his morning run, a quick
outdoor shower, and a soak in the hot tub, when Jake
burst through the gate of the enclosure without so
much as a knock or a warning call. Jeff opened his
eyes to see his friend looming over him, casting his
face and upper body in shadow, and clearly ogling his
middle body through his dark glasses. It wasn't as if
Jake had not seen him naked before. Jeff's
humiliating experience at the beach and afterward had
taken place only two weeks earlier, and Jake had
gotten his eyes full of Jeff's spectacular physique
that day and night. Still, having Jake stand over him
leering and grinning in such open admiration was
unsettling to the modest Jeffrey. Besides, any
attention at all always made Jeff's cock get hard, as
it was already beginning to do under Jake's
appreciative gaze. He scowled.

"What?" he growled.

"Great news!"

"Well, don't look at me, asshole, it creeps me out!
I don't stare at YOUR crotch when you're naked!"

"No, you don't. And why not, I want to know! I'm
not that hard on the eyes, you know, Pretty-boy, and I
have a damn nice cock, if I have to say so myself."

It was true. As drop-dead gorgeous as Jeff is, Jake
is not far behind him in the looks department. Six
feet tall and red-haired, Jake has a beefy
Rugby-player physique, but hardly two fat-cells to rub
together anywhere on his body. And his equally beefy,
eight-and-a-half-inch boner is perfectly proportioned
and perfectly mouth-watering.

"So, what's the news?"

"We're getting jet-skis!"

Now Jeff almost forgot to worry about the 10-inch
hard-on he was unwillingly waving in front of his

"What do you mean, `we'?"

Jake refused hear any excuses. He had always wanted
a jet-ski, he declared. But what good is it to have
one all by yourself? You have to have a friend who
has one, too, so you have someone to ride with. He
had stumbled across a guy who had two nice, almost new
ones he wanted to sell. But they had to act fast, as
the price was good, and these babies would not stay on
the market long. They had permission to try them out
on the lake, but it had to be today--in fact it had to
be RIGHT NOW! By nightfall, if all went well, the two
friends would have their Jet-skis, on their double
trailer, parked beside Jeff's driveway, ready to be
towed away behind Jake's Wrangler for fun times with
babes at a moment's notice.

Jake's boyish excitement and eternal optimism did
make it all sound like a great idea. Jeff knew he
could afford the machine, and he could imagine him and
Jake having a lot of fun together with them. But
still, there was that one guilty scene left unresolved
in his mind. Two weeks ago, in the early hours of a
Sunday morning, after spending several hours sharing
three hot girls in a fantasy fuck session with Jake,
Jeff had thrust his big cock up his friend's ass and
just about fucked his lights out. After a record
number of ejaculations during that day, even for the
sexually inexhaustible Jeffrey, it had taken him
almost half an hour of heavy, sweaty thrusting to get
that final load off, deep inside Jake's ass. Yet Jake
had seemingly loved every minute of it, if his sighs
and moans were any indication, not to mention the
final cum-load that had been battered out of his own
quivering body, accompanied by much ecstatic groaning,
at the height of the hammering.

The two had been together at work every weekday
since, and they had played tennis twice and gone
running together at least four times. Neither of
them, however, had said a word about the ass-fucking
episode. It was as if it had never taken place. But
Jeff was troubled, because he knew it HAD taken place,
and he didn't know quite what it meant--about Jake,
about himself, or about the relationship they would
have in the future.

He knew that Jake was every bit as horny for pussy as
he was himself, and that he participated in straight
fucking with a joyful and uninhibited abandonment, as
Jeff had seen for himself. How, then, could he so
eagerly welcome a stiff rod like Jeff's up his
muscular, masculine ass?

Jake's contagious enthusiasm wore at his defenses,

"As you may recall, I don't have a swimsuit," he
protested weakly. His suit had been lost in the surf
on the infamous beach trip, and though a kid had later
found it, Jake had neglected to get possession of it
because at the time he was more concerned about what
had happened to the body that had once been in it.

"Wear these running shorts, then," responded Jake,
picking up the still sweaty white shorts Jeff had just
finished running in half an hour before.

Looking more closely at Jake now for the first time,
Jeff noticed that Jake himself was wearing similar
very short running shorts, yellow nylon with open
sides. The built-in briefs had been cut out so that
Jake's substantial male equipment could hang free, and
sure enough, from his vantage point, Jeff could see
the pink head of Jake's cock dangling just inside the
hemline. It was embarrassing sometimes to run with
this dude, because it was not unusual for his long
dong to hang free of the shorts leg and slap back and
forth from thigh to thigh as they ran through the
park. Jake stretching his muscles before and after
exercise was a sight to behold! In fact, outside of
work, Jake never seemed to wear much. As hard as Jeff
worked to keep his goodies under wraps, Jake was
equally unconcerned about having his own tempting
package on public view. At least today he had on a
tee shirt.

Worn down, Jeff relented and slipped into his shorts,
tee, and flops. He grabbed his wallet and check-book,
just in case, and off the two roared in Jake's
careening Wrangler.

Jeff blushed, thinking of the last time he had ridden
in the Jeep with Jake. They had driven home from the
beach catastrophe jaybird naked, and both men had
jacked off with a muscular young trucker, not to
mention being viewed naked by dozens of fellow
travelers on the highway. In retrospect, it was
excruciatingly embarrassing for Jeff. How could he
have been so brazen? Jake thought the whole thing was
a blast!

Today, they were dressed, and though they attracted
more stares and comments in other vehicles than Jeff,
mercifully, was aware of, especially with the front of
Jake's shorts flapping in the wind and hanging totally
open in the sides, they soon arrived at the marina
where the Jet-skis were to be checked out. After a
few minutes' instruction from the owner, a thirty-ish
blonde fellow with a deep tan and sparkling blue eyes
who seemed to need to get his hands all over both Jeff
and Jake in order to show them the ins and outs of the
machines, life preservers were passed out, and the two
set off on their test drive.

From the beginning, the ride was exhilarating. It
was a perfect, sun-washed, cloudless day, almost 11:00
by now, as they set out across the lake in tandem.
Both men, being novices, began by being pretty
conservative in their driving. But both, being young,
daring, and physically active, very quickly got the
hang of their machines and were soon doing more
complicated maneuvers, causing spray to wash over
themselves and each other, whooping with young animal

In the process, two rather predictable things
happened. First, Jake's yellow shorts, which were
hardly more than a loin cloth to begin with and to
which he was oblivious, became whipped by the wind
into little more than a string around his waist, with
his fully equipped male package hanging out in sun and
spray. Second, Jeff's white shorts virtually

To this development, Jeff was decidedly NOT
oblivious. Looking down, he could see that, at the
sides, his wet shorts were cellophane. His tanned
hips shone through as if they were as bare as Jake's.
In the crotch, there was at least the mercy of an
inner bikini lining, but a very small mercy it was,
both in size and effectiveness.

Perhaps we should note that THREE rather predictable
things happened, the third being that, under the
stimulation of the wind, spray, and sun, and the
tension Jeff felt at being so suddenly and
unpreparedly revealed, his dick plumped up like the
airbag of a Volvo in a head-on collision. No bikini
lining of mere nylon could begin to hold this monster
boner. The flaring, swollen head popped right out the
leg, followed by several inches of hard, thick
cock-shaft, and waved in the breeze across Jeff's
well-muscled thigh.

Thus far, they had been alone on the water. Now,
however, the two jet-skiers were entering the main
channel of the lake, and they began to pass and be
passed by boaters. Some were fishermen in caps or
tacky hats, staring at the nearly-naked men sternly
and disapprovingly from behind dark glasses. Jeff saw
more than one set of binoculars rising to eyes,
double-checking the vision to see if the apparent
nakedness of these riders was an illusion. Many of
the boats contained sight-seers and party groups,
however, and these the guys provided with impressive
sights to see. Girls stood and waved as their
boyfriends glowered behind tillers and dark glasses of
their own. Jake whooped and waved back, as Jeff put
his head down and plowed on. Several times, they
passed pontoon boats, one laden with a whole family
from grandma to babes in arms. They lined the rail of
their boat gawking, making Jeff's entire body turn
from tan to crimson and causing his skin tones to
shine even more vividly through his sheer shorts.
Another very large one had a big banner across the
top, "Alpha Chi Omega." It was filled with
bikini-clad sorority girls and pledges on an outing.
They almost flipped their boat by rushing en masse to
the side the jet-skis were passing, squealing and
hooting at the guys. Again, Jake was thrilled. He
waved and shouted something unintelligible, as Jeff
just tried to look as invisible as his shorts.

His boner, however, was far from invisible, sticking
straight up like a flagpole out of his hiked-up shorts
leg. Much of the hooting was directed at it.

A hundred yards beyond the sorority girls, Jeff was
vainly trying to signal Jake to turn back and get them
out of this embarrassing display of male genitalia,
when a ski-boat suddenly cut across in front of him,
leaving him nowhere to go. He swerved, hit a big wake,
flipped over his handle-bars, and rolled into the
water, feet flailing, the ski stalling beside the
point where he fell. The blow of hitting the water
swept the loose and waterlogged, useless shorts right
over his hips and off his feet. The fall must have
stripped all the air out of them as well, because they
sank like a diving bell, leaving poor modest Jeffrey
once again naked in the water. He tried to dive after
his shorts, but the life jacket he wore prevented him
from getting anywhere near where they were continuing
to sink. Finally, disgusted, he hung in the water,
pondering his fate, suspended by the floatation
device, the water gently caressing his responsive dick
and balls.

At least this time Jake was nearby and soon to be
aware of his predicament. Jeff could see him circling
around to check him out, as the ski boat skimmed
across the lake far away. In a moment, Jake buzzed up
beside him and cut his motor.

And how did his handsome buddy respond to Jeff's
confession of his shorts-less condition? He bellowed
with laughter, of course!

"Again? God damn, dude! You just can't keep pants
on, can you, Beef-cakes?"

So here we go again. Jake was far from having
textile to spare for his friend. They were now
several miles from the marina. And even when they got
there, there were still no spare shorts for Jeff, and
the open Jeep to ride home in, just as before.

And neither of them had brought so much as a towel.

So there was nothing for it but for Jeff to
climb back aboard his tossing jet-ski and drive it
back, this time actually rather than just apparently,
naked as Adam in the Garden.


Jeff struggled up onto the seat of his jet-ski, which
was supposed to hold three passengers, though they
would have to be very close personal friends. He
turned to head back toward the marina and set off at a
fast clip, all seriousness now that he felt the strong
need to get his naked body under some kind of cover.
Jake kept pace alongside, but about five yards to his
port side.

Of course, they now had to pass all the same boats
they had passed on the way out, and it was
excruciating for Jeff. Glancing over to see Jake's
dazzling teeth exposed in a huge, happy grin did not
help any, nor did seeing Jake's cock flopping against
his thigh, because Jeff knew that Jake couldn't care

The fishermen were even less amused with the guys on
this pass, since clearly, the white shorts were now
goners. Jeff winced to see hands shading eyes for a
better look on several pontoon boats. But in just
moments, they neared the large pontoon boat with the
sorority girls on board. They had seen the men
heading back their way, and they were ready, lining
the rail and already beginning to wave.

Did Jake, shameless flirt that he is, stray closer to
the boat so that he could see the girls better, or was
he deliberately trying to force his naked bud closer
in to the crowd of girls? Perhaps we will never know,
but he did, in fact, put the squeeze on Jeff's space,
so that, in order to avoid collision, Jeff had to
angle closer and closer to the side of the pontoon.
Finally, it looked as if he were going to be forced
into the boat itself. At the last moment, Jeff
decided to swerve behind the boat and pass on the
other side, safely out of Jake's way. But he was not
yet expert enough at controlling the new jet-ski for
this kind of swerving. Consequently, he hit the wake
of the pontoon boat at an off-angle, wallowed into the
trough with the nose of his ski, and once again did a
brilliant, spread-eagle full front flip over the
handlebars as his jet-ski stalled to an abrupt halt.
He flew like a trapeze artist through the air, the
girls gasping and squealing. It only lasted two
seconds. But the image of the magnificent flying
naked stud of a man, muscles flexing and cock waving,
was long emblazoned in the memory of those young
university women!

This time, Jeff hit the water hard, so hard that the
life jacket fasteners popped right away from his
swelling chest. He was dazed a bit by the impact, not
enough to be in any real danger of drowning, but
enough to set off a frenzy of panic on the pontoon
boat. Before Jeff managed to do much more than lift
his water-logged eyes from the lake, just over half of
the girls had jumped off the boat to rescue him. In
seconds, the water churned with flailing female arms
and legs as they vied to be the first to get to him
and lay their hands on him.

Jeff tried to explain he didn't need rescuing, but
water ran into his mouth every time he opened it, from
all the splashing. In the end, some fifteen girls
laid claim to some part of his body and towed him to
their boat, flat on his back and raised to the surface
of the water, completely exposed to all of them and
even more so to the remainder who crowded around the
rail ready to drag the cute naked accident victim

Yes, he could technically have fought his way free,
but our Jeffry, shy and modest as he may be, is also a
gentleman. A horny fucker and a gentleman.

"Girls, I don't...I'm really fine, I'm not...Just let
me...back to my...please don't...don't...ooooh, wait a sec,
don', girls, really...ahem..." he babbled and
bubbled. This guy just cannot put together a sentence
when he is caught naked in a public place. By this
time, the amount of blood engorging Jeff's maximized
cock would have made a weaker man pass out. It soared
past his belly button, rising and falling against his
stomach as the ripples of water swept over him.
Whoever would have thought she would need to put her
hand around his cock in order to save him from

With willing assistance from those aboard, the girls
hauled Jeff's 185 lbs. of man muscle onto the deck
with surprising ease, then all scrambled aboard to
finish saving his life. They stroked and resuscitated
every single part of his body.

"I know CPR!" one squealed.

"Does he need mouth to mouth?" another offered

The rest just groped and stroked.

Now, we all know where this is leading, and very
quickly. Jeff never could hold his man-liquor.

"Aaagh! Please....don't...... ahhhhhhhhh.... No, girls,
shit, this is too....."

Too late. Huge spurts of Jeff-juice began firing out
of his swollen heavenly howitzer like wet missiles.
The first landed on his left eyebrow and hung there
until one of the girls, a shapely and pert red-head,
leaned down and sucked it off. Other dollops were on
his chest and bicep--other girls quickly followed the
example set and slurped them all up, leaving damp
lip-stick stains all over his upper body. Jeff tried
to raise himself up, but they pushed him back down.

Hands continued to massage Jeff's body all over at
once. He felt as if he had fallen into some kind of
insane rub-down machine. He continued to babble
occasionally, as he could catch some breath to do so.
"Oh, wait, now girls, let's... ngahhh....oh, don't touch, look here...pleeeeeeaaaasssseee,
you're going to make me...... Oh, shit."

He came again. All over his stomach and several
girls' hands. But this time, most removed their hands
to lick the cum off, and Jeff seized his chance.
Struggling clumsily, but extremely sexily, he managed
to get to his feet. Looming over the girls who still
knelt beside those beautiful manly feet and legs they
had just been fondling, his low-hanging balls
swinging, his dripping cock flopping with his effort,
Jeff finally found his voice.

"I'm fine. Thanks for the help, but this is too
embarrassing. I have to go now. But thanks, girls."

Looking about for an escape route, past the sulking
and disappointed sorority girls, most of whom now
began to rise and mill about on the deck, Jeff's eyes
fell on the one other male aboard, the driver. He was
probably a frat guy, probably the boy friend of one of
those very girls who had been fondling Jeff's delicate
parts right in front of him, and he was definitely
feeling jealous and disgusted. He had every reason.
At Jeff's height, six feet two, he was quite the
physical specimen. But he had the hulky build of a
football lineman, with a strong, but bowed-out gut.
He was shirtless and smooth-chested, wearing only
knee-length cargo pants which made him look like he
was all torso and no legs. Formerly the studly escort
for over 30 nubile young college girls, next to
glamorous Jeff, he just looked big and ordinary and
clumsy. His day was not going as he had planned it.
He glowered at our hero. But beside him at the stern,
there was a break in the rail of the boat. Jeff made
for it, brushing past two or three of the girls, and
dived smoothly into the lake.

"Ooh," and "Wow," the girls crooned.

Jeff surfaced ten yards out and swam strongly toward
his drifting jet-ski. By this time, he noticed Jake.
His friend and dignity-assassin had circled around and
drawn up near Jeff's ski. His little yellow "shorts"
still hung like flaps, and his goodies still hung out,
mercifully somewhat shrunken now, however, by the
water. He didn't go unnoticed by the girls.

"Oooh, look, there's the other one!" Squeals and
giggles, calls for the guys' names and phone numbers,
pleading for them to come back to the boat. As Jeff
scrambled back up onto his jet-ski, much more
gracefully this time, he would have sworn he heard
that fool Jake calling out both their names and phone
numbers, and several of the girls seemed to be digging
in their bags and writing something down.

He groaned dismally. Who would want to call a
blushing, naked, clumsy idiot like himself, he
wondered. Answer: over thirty cute sorority girls,
that's who. And they would all be calling the
grinning hunk Jake, too.

He revved up his jet and began to skim away over the
lake, Jake following. But first, he gave Jake a

"This time, stay the fuck out of my way, Jake."

Jake just grinned, and gave a final wave back toward
the pontoon.


After all that, the rest of the trip back to the
marina seemed relatively tame to Jeff. Of course, he
had to pass all the same runabouts, pontoons, and
fishing boats he had gone by earlier when he had
something on, even if it was invisible. Now, it
didn't take binoculars to tell that he was riding his
jet-ski jaybird naked--but several people broke out
their binoculars anyway, just to make very sure. His
cock was temporarily half-way subdued now, in that it
just lay across his thigh rather than poking straight
up in the air.

As the two men approached the marina, they could see
the owner of the jet-skis coming down to meet them.
He had on a khaki cap and shorts, and he had shed his
own shirt. As a matter of fact, he was a pretty
good-looking fellow, Jeff now observed, fit and
well-built, about five-ten and one-sixty-five.

No time to think about that, though. Here was Jeff,
driving up on the guy's for-sale jet-ski, with his
bare ass on the seat and his dick dangling. Jeff o
longer had any interest in making a purchase of
recreational equipment. He just wanted to get the
hell home, as fast and as inconspicuously as possible.
He and Jake both hopped off their water-bikes and
pulled them into the shallows as the owner looked on.

"Uh--what happened to your shorts?" he asked with a
chuckle in his voice.

Jeff, normally the best-natured of men, was not in
one of his more pleasant humors this morning.

"Long story," he snapped. "Look, obviously I have to
get out of here as quickly as possible."

"How'd the skis do?"

"Great! We love `em," this from Jake.

Jeff glared at his friend. "I wiped out twice. With
help," he inserted. "I'm not so sure this is for me."

"Oh, sure it is! You're just learning, that's all."
Jake was not about to let his future fun on the lake
be jeopardized. He fell right into negotiating on the
price of the package deal, completely ignoring Jeff's
reluctance. Ed, the owner, was hardly paying
attention. He was staring at Jeff's body, especially
his cock. Under the appreciative gaze, said cock was
beginning to thicken provocatively. Jake masterfully
haggled the price of the skis downward, as Jeff's dick
expanded upward. Jeff shifted his bare feet
awkwardly. This was a fairly busy place, and they
weren't going to have the waterfront to themselves for
long. In fact, he saw a car pulling into the lot now.

"Look, could we take this someplace else, more

Ed beamed at that suggestion. In fact, it seemed
right in line with his own thinking. Quickly, he led
the guys to his small office in a little hut off to
the side of the lot. It seemed he owned the marina,

"Look, guys, I like you two, and I want you to have
these things. I'm making quite a sacrifice here for
you on the price." He waved off Jake's protest.
"Yes, but I'm prepared to do even better for you. I
just need one little favor from you. You know, you
both are very attractive men. Very attractive!"

Jeff's heart sank. He knew what was coming.

"I'm married, you know, don't mess around much. But
every once in a while, you know....well, here it is:
you fuck my ass (nodding at Jeff) and you fuck my
throat (nodding at Jake), and I'll knock off another
hundred each."

"No way," said Jeff.

"A hundred?" grinned Jake.

"I don't fuck ass," declared Jeff.

"The hell you don't," reminded Jake.

Jeff blushed deeply. This was the first time Jake
had mentioned it. He sighed.

"Well, let's get it over with."

Off came Ed's cargo shorts and tightie whities. Off
came Jake's skimpy shorts. Ed "just happened" to have
a tube of KY jelly in his desk drawer. He smeared
some behind him and laid his torso across his desk.
Jake sidled up to the far side, his rising member
aiming for Ed's willing mouth. Jeff eyed his own
target dubiously. Ed's ass cheeks were round and
firm, coated with a sprinkling of golden hair,
deepening and darkening toward the crack. His ass was
stark white in comparison to his deeply tanned back
and legs. His posture, legs spread, caused the
cheeks to spread open somewhat, revealing a small,
brownish puckered rosebud, moistened with the jelly.
Jeff was already quite hard. He pressed the head of
his dick against the brown wrinkle. It responded by
opening for him. He pushed, and the head of his dick
disappeared inside. It felt warm and soft. He pushed
a bit more, and more of his thick meat slid inside.

"Ummph," said Ed around Jake's dick, now fully

Jeff eased off a bit, just toggling gently in and
out, while Ed acclimated to the intrusion. Gradually,
he increased depth and tempo. According to the sounds
he was making, Ed appreciated it. Jake was increasing
depth and tempo, too, fucking Ed's face. Leaning
forward, Jeff and Jake joined their arms and leaned
into one another, supporting each other's weight as
their hips ground into Ed's orfices.

Slurp, slurp, slurp. Plop, plop, plop.

Jeff's big balls slapped at Ed's on each thrust.
Jake's big balls slapped his chin. Jake grinned.
Soon enough, Jeff began to smile a bit as well.

`And a hundred dollars, too,' he mused.

He fucked Ed for about ten minutes before he felt the
sap beginning to rise within him. "Soon," he told

"I'm with you," Jake responded.

There was no mistaking the actual cum event, as both
men groaned and winced loudly with the pleasure of
ejaculation. Jake's abundant cum oozed out of the
edges of Ed's mouth. Jeff rammed his deep inside Ed's
ass. Still grasping each other's biceps, Jeff and
Jake also rested their heads against one another in
the aftermath of their ejaculation.

"Damn, I needed that!" said Jake. He was two behind
Jeff already because of missing out on the action on
the pontoon boat. Jeff just sighed deeply.

Ed was bathed in sweat, some of which was actually
his, and collapsed on his desk, eyes closed, a weak
smile on his face. Jeff withdrew his slimy serpent
from its hole with a wet plop. He still had nothing
to cover it with.

In a few minutes, Ed revived to fill out transfer
papers for the guys, and they wrote checks for their
new fuck-buddy. Jake went out, since he was the one
with a semblance of clothing to put on, to hitch the
trailer to the Wrangler. Then Ed joined him to load
the jet-skis onto the trailer. Jeff hid in the office
until, finally deciding the coast was clear down by
the dock, he jogged out to help in the final lashings
so that he and Jake could get on the road to home and

Naturally, as fate would have it, a church van pulled
into the parking lot just as he got almost to the boat
launch. It was pulling a pontoon boat, and it
contained fifteen teenagers and their chaperones from
the Eternal Word of Apostolic Light Full Gospel
Holiness Church (according to the printing on the
side). Not the sort of people Jeff put high on his
list of potential flashees, yet they most certainly
got a very clear view of Jeff's undulating butt as he
strode briskly to the Jeep. He sprinted around to the
back side of the Jeep and tried to keep its sides
between him and the van as Ed and Jake hastily
completed the fastenings.

At last, with van passengers craning their necks and
Ed absently massaging his backside (but smiling as he
did so), Jake cranked the engine, and the Jeep, plus
the jet-skis and one-point-nine naked men, careened
from the lot.

It was one-thirty in the afternoon. Jeff was at last
on his way back to the safety of his own fenced in
property. But it was a half-hour drive to get there,
and there were no doors or windows on the Wrangler.

And he was still just as naked as the day he was
born. Only much more erect in the penis department.


Jeff was not looking forward to another naked ride
home in Jake's open Wrangler. Mercifully, today's
ride would be only half as long, and much more would
be on two-lane, country roads, which would make for
less passing and far fewer trucks. What Jeff didn't
count on, though, was the flat tire.

It had been quite bad enough already, with several
incidents of residents on their porches overlooking
the roadside rising, pointing, laughing, scowling, or
shouting as the men drove by, with Jeff's naked body
visible from head to toe. Of course, the tension and
suspense caused his notorious boner to make itself
humiliatingly known. Under Jeff's pleading, Jake
offered to take a short cut which, he promised, would
cut their journey by twenty minutes, and he veered off
the county road onto a tiny pig trail which cut
through a ravine and over a steep hill on a deeply
rutted, stony, and trash-strewn path, dragging the
bouncing water-sled trailer all the way. About half a
mile after they emerged on the next paved road, the
Jeep suddenly slowed and tilted, and Jake pulled over
onto the shoulder.

"Damn, what now?" wailed Jeff.

"Flat, I think."

"You can't have a flat, you drive a fuckin' Jeep!"

"It can happen." Jake peered at the rear passenger
tire. "It has happened."

Jeff got out and stared dolefully at the totally flat
tire, a big gash clearly visible in its tread. He
groaned. They were parked on a level stretch between
two rolling hills. Vehicles approaching from either
direction could be upon them before they realized it.
Jeff felt hugely vulnerable out here in the open in
his bare-ass condition, with no place to hide.

The two set to work. In a matter of minutes, they
had the spare off the back of the Jeep and its
rear-end jacked up. Jake would have been more help if
he had not been so busy looking at Jeff's naked body
and grinning. Jeff was using his superb shoulder and
bicep strength on loosening the lug nuts of the wheel,
with Jake standing beside him, when he heard the sound
of car wheels approaching, then slowing.

"Uh-oh," said Jake dully.

A car door slammed, and the gravels crunched with
approaching footsteps. There was no place to go.
Jeff knelt beside the wheel, tire iron in his hands,
sweat running down his bare flanks, and hard-on
pointing at the sky. The crunching stopped just
behind Jake, and he heard a male voice.

"Flat tire?

Then Jake's response. "Yes, officer. We're fine,
thanks, almost finished."

Jeff's heart seemed to stop. Its beating was
transferred to his erect dick, which throbbed
rhythmically as if nodding its head.

Jeff peeked around Jake's muscular thigh to see the
gray trouser-leg of a uniform. Gray--that meant State.
Oh, shit.

His eyes moved up to a narrow, gun-holstered waist,
flat stomach under a crisp uniform shirt. Hands on
hips. Wedding band. Badge on a pumped-out chest.
Strong-jawed, clean-shaven, handsome face. Quizzical
expression, eyebrows raised, slight smirking smile.
Cap on a closely-cropped head.

"Why are you naked, Bud?"

The two men began their stammering explanations in
bursts of semi-intelligible phrases while the
officer's glance moved from one to the other.

"Well, I guess asking to see some I. D. is out, then.
So you're riding home on state roads buck naked and
in full view of the public? You do know about our
laws on public nudity and indecent exposure, don't
you? But why the hell is your dick hard? What have
you two been up to?"

That brought another barrage of explanatory nonsense
from both men at once. Finally, the trooper waved
them to halt.

"I never heard of a guy who couldn't NOT get hard
before," he said dubiously. "But luckily for you, I
haven't had any complaints about you." Jeff
hesitantly began to breathe again.

"We'll just get this spare on, and then we'll be on
our way, officer," he offered hopefully.

"The hell you will. Your friend can, even though he
is only about two threads away from public indecency
himself. But you, Jaybird, you're going with me."

Jeff's heart sank. "You mean you're going to arrest
me? But I... But..."

"No, I'm not going to have every trooper in the
district laughing at me for driving in with a naked
idiot with a hard-on. But I'm not going to let you
flaunt that package of yours all over the county,
either. You wouldn't get two miles down this road
before my radio would be squawking like crazy, and
then I'd have to come right back to pick you up and
take you in. There's no way I'm going to put myself
through the deposition on that case! What we're going
to do is, I'm going to take you home."

Jeff could hardly believe it. On the positive side,
he was not getting busted--and that was a very big
positive, indeed! But on the other hand, he was going
to have to ride home naked with this handsome officer
laughing at him all the way.

At least the patrol car did have doors!

Five minutes later, the tire was changed, Jake was
pulling away, glancing back guiltily at Jeff being
left behind with the stony-faced trooper. Jeff moved
toward the back door, but the officer stopped him.

"No, ride in front. I'm Officer Taylor, by the way.

Jeff crawled in beside Stan, and he stomped the
accelerator. What a difference it makes not to have
to worry about speed limits! They passed Jake, who
for once was behaving himself speed-wise, in a couple
of miles. He waved ruefully. Jeff sat back to endure
the trip as best he could, wearing nothing but a seat
belt and a resigned look.

He had the passing concern that Stan might have plans
for some kind of favor to be performed, but if he had
any such thought, it never was mentioned. The patrol
car did serve to shield Jeff's shanks from the view of
ordinary vehicles. However, it did nothing whatever
to shelter him from scrutiny by the drivers of SUV's,
pick-ups, and trucks. Taylor soon revealed himself to
have a bit of a sadistic streak. Every time he passed
a vehicle driven by a man, he paused a bit to give the
driver a good, long look. He grinned wickedly as he
looked across Jeff's lap to observe the surprised and
intrigued expressions on their faces.

Jeff responded in several ways: his dick got harder,
his skin blushed redder, and his facial expression
became more chagrined. On the plus side, there was no
need to worry about one of the drivers phoning the
police! And Officer Taylor seemed to be having a
great time.

For the last half of the ride, Taylor swooped up onto
the controlled-access highway. Traffic was constant
in the right lane, and there was pretty much all the
time some guy leering into the window into his lap.

Jeff was in an agony of discomfort. Here he was
sitting totally naked in a patrol car with a fully
uniformed state trooper about his own age on the other
end of the bench seat, still not entirely sure he was
not going to be arrested for being caught naked on the
state right-or-way, never mind how `not his fault' it
was. Every time they passed a man who could see inside
the car, Taylor slowed to let the guy stare down onto
Jeff's naked body--and nearly all of them did, at least
stealthily. Having them peek at him like that, out of
the corner of their eyes, was almost worse for Jeff
than being stared at openly, especially when, out of
the corner of his own eye, he could see Taylor's wide
grin of enjoyment. In all of this, a pinkish tone
glowed over Jeff's tanned skin, and his enormous dick
jutted straight out from his dark pubes like a lance.
To his dismay, he felt a tremor of excitement in his
low-hanging balls, and then a long drip of clear
precum suddenly streamed out of the end of his
shuddering dick onto the officer's upholstery.
Humiliated, he was just cutting his eyes over to see
if Taylor had noticed, when he heard a deep chuckle
resonate from his seat-mate. Jeff sighed. Yes, he
noticed. How humiliating.

He wondered--any chance Stan was gay and getting off
on this? He contrived to glance over at the trooper's
package. Stan's muscular thighs, clad in their tight
gray uniform pants, were spraddled. Below the wide
leather holster, where the legs met in the crotch, was
an unmistakable rounded bulge. He could even make out
a good-sized tube dangling into the left trouser leg,
with an identifiable rim an inch from the end. It was
a nice one. But it was not hard. Jeff's relief
evaporated, however; Stan caught him checking and
smirked. Now Jeff was doubly humiliated. The officer
was now assuming that HE was gay and that he and
Jake....Fuck, what a mess.

"Do I turn you on or something?" Stan asked

"No." Jeff's tone was resigned but, he hoped,

"So why do you have a hard on, then? You like this,
don't you?"

Jeff tried again to explain that he was simply
strangely, unaccountably oversexed and that the kind
of stimulation that would cause most guys to go
totally limp made him rock hard and drooling
uncontrollably, but even to him he sounded lame and
dorkish. He wasn't even sure he believed himself. He
had never felt like such a total loser.

Taylor shook his head disbelievingly, still smirking.
But by now, they had reached Jeff's exit. From here,
his house was only four blocks away. Soon, this
ghastly ordeal would be over, and he would be safe at
home. The car swerved onto the exit ramp, and Jeff
shifted a little in his seat expectantly.

At the end of the ramp, there was a boarded-up Exxon
station, and Taylor unexpectedly pulled into it, and
around to the back of the building. Now Jeff sat up
straight and turned questioningly toward Taylor. Was
this the moment he had been fearing? Was Stan about
to demand a blow job in exchange for not arresting
him? The car stopped.

"Well, this is it, boner boy," smirked the trooper.

"This is what?"

"End of the line. Where you get out."

"But I... my house is... I can't...."

"My district ends at this exit. I can't go any
further, this is Hinkleman's tour today," Stan stated

Jeff stared at him blankly. His dick gave a little

"I can't make it without... It's too...I'll get...."

"Yeah, but if there's a call now, it'll be a toss-up
whether the locals get you or that chump Hinkleman,"
Stan chuckled. "I'd love to see the look on his face
when he has to book you."

Jeff's expression melted into a horrified grimace.

"Well, I'll tell you one thing. It's good you didn't
ask if you could suck me off, like you were wanting to
do. I'd have busted you right then, fag."

Jeff's mouth opened to protest, but he only

"Try that on Hinkleman, if he nabs you, though. I've
been kind of wondering about him. Now--OUT!"

Stunned at the injustice of this turn of events, Jeff
swung open the cruiser door and stepped out. As the
door slammed, with a parting sneer, Trooper Taylor
stomped the accelerator with his booted foot and sped
off in a shower of dust and gravel.

Now, behind the closed-up station, Jeff stood
completely naked, still unaccountably hard, and
pondered his predicament. Four long blocks to home,
three of them on a heavily-traveled four-lane
thoroughfare in broad daylight. No cell phone. No
change in his pockets. No pockets.

He felt a familiar stirring deep in his balls. He
looked down at his deep red fuck stick to see the
first of at least seven long streams of very
satisfying ejaculate erupt from his trembling phallus
onto the pot-holed pavement.

He sighed.


For a moment, Jeff just stood awkwardly, wondering
what the hell to do. It was mid-afternoon, and
traffic was heavy. It would be six hours before dark
fell, and even then these streets would be brightly
lit. Jake would head over to his house only blocks
away, but there was no way to get in touch with him
there. Somehow, he just had to sprint for home
without being arrested or recognized.

He looked around. The back of this abandoned Exxon
station, where he now stood, opened onto the backs of
other businesses, which lined McAfee Drive on his
left. The interstate highway right-of-way lay at his
right. He could conceivably get from here to
Cleveland Boulevard, the perpendicular road a block
away, by cutting across these back lots, ducking from
dumpster to weed patch. It was pretty desolate back
there, with lots of litter and even an occasional
abandoned-looking car. He set out jogging, looking
around nervously for any sign of an observer.

Passing behind the second business, he saw a small
sedan turning into the driveway out front, and he
crouched behind a couple of trash cans. Suddenly,
something caressed his left ass cheek, and he jumped a
foot off the ground. The thing meowed. Jeff let out
a huge sigh and sank back on his heels. The lonely,
homeless cat, a mangy-looking brindle creature, purred
and rubbed repeatedly against the butt of this new
prospect for pet ownership. Then the vehicle parked
behind the office and a stocky woman got out and went
in the back door. Jeff stood and began to slink
onward, limping across a graveled drainage ditch along
the property line. Now his feet were hurting.

The next building looked closed up, and at the back
of its lot was one of the abandoned cars he had seen.
Jeff hobbled toward the back of it for a little
shelter. But just as he came within two feet of the
crumpled hood, he saw a camouflage cap and painted
face rise up from the other side of the fender. Then
the barrel of a rifle.

Then the rifle fired, he felt a sharp stabbing pain
in his right nut, and his crotch exploded in red!
Screaming in pain and horror, he stared down at his
favorite body parts. His stiff dick still rose out of
the nest of his pubes, and his throbbing balls were
still there. But the whole area was drenched with
bright red--


The camouflaged warrior rose and whooped with triumph
at his "kill." He fired again, and another bright red
splotch caught Jeff square on the navel. Now five or
six other combatants came swooping in from all
directions, firing away. They buzzed Jeff like
mosquitoes, and he soon looked like a spotchy Twister
board, with splashes of green, yellow, purple, and
orange joining the red on all sides of his body. His
attackers were now revealed to be a gang of thirteen
to fourteen-year-old boys. They also had paint splats
on their uniforms from earlier assaults on one
another--but now, they were gleefully united in their
guerilla attack on this lone naked man who had invaded
their turf.

Jeff's nut still tingled, and his butt felt wet.
He'd like to thrash these young hooligans. Hearing
laughter behind him, he turned. The heavy woman from
next door was on the doorstep of her office, doubled
over with derisive laughter. A vehicle on the road
beyond was slowing, its driver craning his neck.

Jeff gritted his teeth, turned tail, and ran.

Dashing through the next three lots, he felt his
backside being plastered with paint, and he heard the
laughter and shouts of the young warriors as they
scored hit after hit on his naked back, ass, and legs.
Then he felt a more forcible blow on his left bicep
and heard a squish. He looked left. A squat Hispanic
man in an apron was hurling eggs at him out of a
carton. Another hit Jeff square on the jaw, then one
caught him on the left hip. Damn, the guy must be
Dominican! He shouted sharp Spanish obscenities for
which Jeff needed no translation.

Careening around a dumpster, Jeff saw the sprawling
homeless man just in the nick of time to keep from
tripping over him. The guy was probably in his
forties but looked sixty, his ragged, dirty shirt
unbuttoned and his hairy torso bulging out of it. He
was just waking, his eyes squinting sleepily. Jeff
did what he had to do--he leaped, and flew like a long
jumper right over the guy. The homeless fellow got a
glimpse of Jeff's long, bare legs passing over him,
with the dangling nut sack and enormous, swollen dick
for which our hero was already locally famous in
between. The drunk's head fell back onto the
pavement, and his eyes closed again, as the young
assassins closed in on him and rained down colored
blobs of paint upon his stupor-clouded body.

Meanwhile, Jeff, the fleet of foot, rainbow-clad
streaker, made his escape. He ran between two
buildings at the end of the row, which fronted on
Cleveland. Now he had to cross that busy street and
the large Home Depot parking lot on the other side,
travel one long block away from the Interstate, and
then turn right a block to get to the quieter,
residential street his house was on.

He paused behind an arborvitae to survey his
situation. His right nut and bush were bright red,
but his left nut and the head of his still boned dick
were yellow, as was his navel. One tit was purple,
just below the other, a big green blotch. His jaw was
blue. Both thighs were decorated with blue and red,
and his backside--well, he could only imagine. At
least he now looked more comical than sexual, and
maybe he could thereby avoid arrest. He decided the
thing to do was just to run for it. But his right
foot felt funny. He looked back and saw red tracks.
Not paint. Raising his foot to check, he saw a cut on
his heel. So his speed would be hampered.

A kind of battle-induced adrenaline set in. Jeff
just wanted to get home, and perhaps kill Jake for
getting him into this mess. He turned toward the
highway and set out running, but putting his weight on
the front half only of his right foot. Now he was
more comical than ever.

He caught a lull in the traffic in the first two
lanes and easily got halfway across the street. But
then, dancing naked on the double yellow lines, he
paused for a delivery van and two sedans to pass,
gawking drivers craning and pointing. He crossed the
next lane and then almost got run over by--none other
than Channel 7 Eyewitness News.

The grinning driver and the shocked reporter beside
him had eyes like saucers. Jeff sort of bounced off
their hood, turned and continued to the side of the
road. He leaped a row of shrubs, landing square on
his cut foot, and fled across the sidewalk and into
the Home Depot lot. Behind him, he heard the news
van's tires squeal. They were coming around for
another look!

The parking lot was wide open spaces here at the
street side, but there were a few loose shopping carts
to provide the occasional obstacle. Even on his gimpy
foot, Jeff made impressive time. The later news
reports from "Eye Witnesses" all commented that the
streaker was most likely a track star (Jeff never was,
of course, just a scared-shitless fun-runner). At any
rate, by the time the news van got through the traffic
and into the lot, Jeff was halfway across and running
between rows of parked cars where the pursuer could
not easily follow.

There were plenty of viewers this time loose on the
lot. Jeff ran past half a dozen surprised shoppers,
danced around a cart or two, avoided a moving car here
and there, and left them gawking and pointing

Now, you may be wondering about the state of his
arousal after all this trauma. If anything, his
ten-inch dick was harder than ever, his multi-colored
balls bouncing fuller and looser than before. Every
eye fastened immediately on his lurid tool kit, and
absolutely nobody thought that he was sexless.

"I just know he was out to rape me," garbled one
breathless blonde woman later on the news. "He was,
you know, so aroused! And the way he looked at me!"
She looked as if she were about to swoon as the camera
faded back to the equally hyperventilating young
breasty reporter.

But Jeff was long gone, exiting the lot at the side,
and heading down the block, again using the back
margins of the business properties along the way. At
least two dozen more people saw him clearly, many of
them shouting, waving their arms, shaking their fists.
Jeff would never have believed that a simple thing
like a naked man could make people respond with such
hostility and anger. And the obscenities! Pervert!
Motherfucker bastard! These were some of the milder
epithets hurled.

At last, Jeff rounded his own street corner and
sprinted the last half block to his own familiar
haven. Home had never looked so good! Sure enough,
Jake's Wrangler and their new Jetskis were parked in
the driveway. He heard a police siren in the distance
now. The front door was slightly ajar--good, Jake had
remembered where to find the spare key in the back
yard. Jeff hurled himself inside and slammed the door
behind him.

Jake stood at the kitchen door, a beer bottle halfway
to his lips, his eyes round and his jaw gaping. He
was also stark naked. But he looked like he had just
stepped out of the shower, as indeed he had. Jeff, on
the other hand, was caked with sweat, paint, dirt, and

"What in hell happened to you?"

"Just help me--they're after me!"

Wordlessly and with great gentleness, Jake put his
arm around his friend and led him into the bathroom.
But first, he locked the front door.


Jake got most of the paint and all of the egg and
dirt off in the warm shower, and by the time he took
Jeff out, Jeff was starting to feel somewhat hopeful
again. Jake spread a duvet on the dining table and
helped Jeff up onto it. He got him a pillow. Then,
turning him onto his stomach (and arranging Jeff's big
dick to point up to his navel so not to be pressed by
his hip bone), he began to work on his backside. With
a warm cloth, he continued to massage gently until he
got every bit of the paint off of Jeff's back, thighs,
and butt. Jeff thought there must have been a huge
amount of paint clinging to his ass, because of the
amount of time Jake spent kneading and massaging on
his buttock muscles. It felt so good, he'd have been
glad to have it continue all night. Jake massaged
Jeff's feet and bandaged the cut on the right one.
Then he rolled Jeff over and began to work on the
front side.

It was one thing to have Jake rubbing on his thighs,
but in no time at all, his warm, strong hands were
working right up next to Jeff's dangling manly
equipment. Jeff's eyes opened, and he squinted down
at his still-naked friend, intent upon his task of
cleaning up Jeff's speckled manhood. His dick soared.
Fortunately, the paint had washed off of its bulging
head. But the pubes were still pretty caked.

"Don't go scrubbing around on my unit, now, Jake,"
Jeff pleaded.

"It's got to be gotten off now, bud, it will only get
worse as it dries."

Jeff sighed. Was there to be no end to the
humiliation of it all?

Jake was dabbing and pulling at his pubes now.

"This stuff is not that easy to get off." Jake
paused and studied his target area thoughtfully. "How
`bout if I shave it off?"

"Shave my pubes? ALL of `em?" Jeff felt he had just
about reached the bottom of the pit. But what could
he do?

"Oh, hell with it. Sure. Go ahead. Shave away."

So Jake got shaving gel and razor and set to work.
In half an hour, Jeff's midsection was smooth and
soft, and paint-free, as the proverbial baby's behind.

"Wow. What a difference a little bush makes," Jake
commented. "I like it, though. Maybe I'll do mine,

Jeff raised up to look. His balls, which he had been
shaving for some time, nevertheless seemed to hang
even lower. His cock, though, seemed bigger than
ever, and oh-so touchable, so appetizing, so--so

The thought had hardly formed in his mind before he
saw and felt Jake's warm mouth going down on his rod,
enveloping it in wet comfort. Jeff's head settled
back onto the pillow and his eyes closed. That Jake.
Can't figure him out. Sometimes want to kill him.
Gets me into all kinds of trouble. But damn. He can
be a great guy to have around.

Jeff's balls let loose with a stream of baby juice
down Jake's gullet. Jake lapped it up and continued
to suck and orally massage Jeff's grateful meat. In
all, he got three of those eruptions before, almost an
hour later, he gave it up and went to lie on the sofa.

Jeff woke a while later and swung off of the table.
He began to stagger back towards the bedroom but,
glancing at the sofa, he saw Jake's manly, muscled
form sprawled there.

"Jake!" he called.

"Yeah, whut?" Jake answered sleepily.

"C'mon to bed, man. There's room for two."

Jake smiled softly and followed his friend down the

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