Loudon Heights Escapade

The trail snaked through the woodlands. It's bordered by ferns, bushes, wild mushrooms, and an occasional log. The canopy gives shade cooling the air.

The narrowness of the path forces Ken to walk two steps ahead of me. The gap widens when I stop to take pictures with the Nikon hanging around my shoulders.

There are a half dozen pictures on the memory card, all of which had been taken since Ken and I began our hike at 9 that morning.

Pointing my lens at his back side, I shoot another picture.

I wish you would walk naked. That would make a better photo. I promise I will not post it to social media.

Ken Phelps is a hunk. He's 72 inches tall, hung, brawny and dark-haired. His eyes are brown. He has thin lips and a roman nose.

Having shot the picture, I let the camera hang and hurried back to my position two strides behind him. He hears the footsteps and stops. I stop close enough to plant a kiss on his lips and do so.

"Did you just take a photo of my ass?"

"No," I replied.

He giggled as he looked at the camera.

"I want to see those pictures."

"OK," I replied, letting him look at the LCD display.

He looked at all 7 photos. The 7th one is a close up of him.

"I'll pose for you if you pose for me."

He meant pose naked.

" At home on the sofa, " I replied.

We walked further. Ahead of us the trees begin to thin out. We can see the road and homes on the opposite side, the neighborhood which we had driven through many times in the past.

Among his varied talents Ken is quite the artist. He has made sketches of me but always just a view of my head. A full body sketch of me will be the first of its kind.

"Pose," he said as we came back home.

"Okay, how," I asked.

"On the bed wearing this," he said, holding up a cross pendant necklace.

"I can wear that."

"Just this," he said.

I stripped naked and plopped onto the sofa, put my hands behind my head and my feet at the opposite end. I turned my head to watch him My boyfriend worked quickly at his I-pad.

Before long I could sit up. He brought the finished sketch to me.

"I like it."

"Cool," he replied.

"Can you make another one?"

"I can," he replied.

I stretched out again, this time putting my hand over my dick as one would place a fig leaf there.

"Is that how you'd like to pose?"

"Draw," I replied.

Again he worked quickly.

"Finished," he said after a few minutes.

I walked toward him for a look at his work.

He pulled me into an open-mouthed kiss, his hands pressing my buttocks. My organ gradually became hard as his fingers brush the ballsack. After several seconds he stepped away to undress. By this time my penis is fully erect and my eyes are locked onto him.

Seconds later I am lying on the bed. One knee is raised putting my foot above his body He is rocking slowly pushing his dick into my orifice. Grunts escape with each breath. I'm holding my semi hard cock against my thigh enhancing my pleasure.

My boyfriend climaxed just as he pulled his dick out of me leaving semen to drip along my thigh. In another second he stretches out atop me kissing me. His dick brushes my dick.

Sex gives a guy an appetite. Minutes after 12 Ken and I come nude into the kitchen. I take a seat at the counter and watch him make Italian cold cut subs on baguettes. Still in the nude, we will enjoy an unhurried lunch with beer.

Jokingly I said, "I want to run though the neighborhood naked."

"I'm not stopping you."

"My sister Janette went into every store in the Mall wearing just body paint. No one noticed anything."

"Dude paint is useless on a guy. It's impossible to hide a dick, especially that monster between your legs."

I glanced downward. Point taken.

"Who said I'm trying to hide it?"

"You're not seriously considering it, are you?"

"I might be," I quipped.

A half hour passed since we had finished lunch. My boyfriend had donned Shamrock cargo shorts, a blue crewneck shirt and sketchers slip-ons. He went outside to the balcony leaving me naked in the livingroom.

Seconds later I joined him on the balcony. From my vantage point I watched traffic, the CVS store, walkers in the parking lot. No one looked up to see me naked.

Ken looked at me.

"I hope you don't get arrested."

Having traveled by rented car from Richmond airport, Ken and I looked forward to hiking to the top of Loudon Heights overlooking the Shenandoah River. We were greeted warmly at The Quality Inn on Union Street in Harpers Ferry by a 50 something blond woman with a noticeable southern accent.

My boyfriend brought some brochures back to our room. Almost Immediately after leaving our luggage in the room we started the uphill hike.

Ken is a Civil War buff who knows the history of this area. He spoke as we walked. "In September of 1862 Robert E Lee was invading Maryland. He wanted to capture Harpers Ferry so a 4000 man division hauled 4 guns to the crest of Loudon Heights. We're on Loudon."

"I can't even begin to imagine anyone hauling a 1000 pound canon up this slope."

"They did it," said Ken.

Having walked about three quarters of the distance, we stopped to rest for just a few minutes. The historical town below looks like the buildings on a model train layout. Not bashful about our sexuality, we held hands and resumed our hike.

We reached the top huffing and sat resting tired legs. We would not go home without taking pictures so I took several; some closeup, others panorama.

I was tempted to take it all off and run naked. Except for the brief stay on my balcony months before this trip, I had never been naked outdoors.

A long look in all directions confirmed that no one was nearby so I stripped. Hiking shoes, a stonewashed denim buttoned shirt, jeans and BVD briefs landed in a heap at my feet.

"I didn't think you would actually strip."

I stuffed everything into the shopping bag a walked a few steps down the hill.

"Are yu planning to walk the whole distance dressed like that?"

"Yah," I quipped.