Don's eyes fluttered open to view the blue-green mural of their canvas tent. Pressed against the thin coverlet, his piss hardon ached for relief. He stretched, yawned loudly and picked up his boxers with splotches of dried semen. He'd slept with eerie dreams but the activity with Tom last night was no dream.
Morning sunlight filtered down through a canopy of thick branches. Don scurried through the tent flaps and immediately inhaled the wonderful, strong smell of coffee. Preceded by the towering flagpole, Don walked past his friend and wizzed mightily behind a huge, gray boulder.
Tom squatted near the small fire and peered at Don's naked form returning. A yellow hand towel draped over one beefy shoulder, a white dab of shaving foam lingered near an earlobe.
"Hey. Good morning sleepyhead." Wearing only a pair of cut-off blue jeans, Tom stood and poured java into the nearby mug for his friend. Don took the proffered brew.
"Hey. Umm...Tom. Are we...you know...cool about last night? I mean...umm..." Don stammered.
"Hell yeah. No problems with this boy..."Tom winked. Don's spirits soared. All things accepted. He stretched his long fingers toward the sky and felt like beating his chest a la Tarzan.
After breakfast they loaded the canoe, packed a lunch and jostled along the two mile dirt road to a secluded, serene lake. Grabbing the fishing gear, Don maneuvered the sleek craft away from shore. The sun was warm and a small breeze assisted Don's paddling, Tom being intent on trolling and testing the waters' depth.
"Let's head for that cove over there. To the right." Tom suggested. Lost in the majesty of the wilderness, Don didn't care which direction they took. Tall oaks gave a respite from the heat and about thirty yards off shore Tom dropped the concrete anchor. Don really wanted to jump into the inviting lake but was content drowning a few worms.
An hour passed and after only a few nibbles, "Hey that sand bar looks shallow enough, I'd really like to swim. What do you think?" Tom grunted okay and pulled up the weight. Fifteen minutes later the canoe's underside hissed over the clean gravel area that curved and stretched around the pond's eastern end.
Don stored the cooler under a tall maple and quickly stripped. He ran naked into the clear, spring fed lake. Breaking the smooth surface, he dove several feet, testing the chilly depths and swam energetically. Much of the bottom was covered with a carpet of leaves but returning to the tapered edge, Don's feet touched down onto friendly, warmer sands.
"Hey! The water's great!" Don yelled to Tom who was casting a lure towards an half submerged tree trunk.
