"Fuck, it's hot," Chris said.
"It's fucking hot," I agreed.
It was easy to hear that he was as frustrated as I was. At 26 and working as project managers, a good work/life balance is hard to achieve. It seems like problems only happen outside of "normal working hours". Both of us finally had a free weekend to pound the banks in search of bass and the fishing sucked. Work had been tough lately we were excited to finally get out. The weather, however, was not cooperating. Forecasts looked good all week, and our spot needs the wind blowing up against the banks to bring the baitfish shallow. The wind forecast didn't pan out. As a result, the bite is super slow. Not even a handful of catches between the two of us.
The lake campground we were fishing has a big section that is closed to camping because it floods regularly. Since its been closed for years, the road has been mostly wiped out. The concrete campsite pads and picnic tables are hidden in the trees and brush now, falling apart in disrepair. It has this post-apocalyptic feel, which makes me enjoy being there regardless of the fishing. All that makes for less fishing pressure, though, so I go there quite often.
Having little luck after three hours in the summer sun, we decide on a couple more casts before heading home. His honey-do list is calling and I'm hungry. So, we move along bank toward the parking lot.
A couple of small coves and a couple dozen casts later, I feel the familiar thump as a bass inhaled the jig I was bumping along the rocky bottom. A few heart thumping seconds and I land a decent largemouth. A quick photo and release, our spirits temporarily lifted. The excitement makes it tough to keep moving, but we press on into the last cove before parking lot. A hill rises and falls in our path, so we're still not able to see the cars.
Suddenly, a pair of large dogs bust out of the brush from behind, and Chris about leapt into the water. Startled, he wants to head out because he doesn't trust random dogs. We reel in and start walking, keeping some distance from the overly excited but friendly pups. I notice a shirtless guy up above, watching us.
"Must be his dogs?" I wonder aloud.
I look up at him and nod.
He throws up a half-smile and winks.
I quickly look away, an odd flush and flutter rippling through my stomach.
"The hell?" I mumbled breathlessly.
Normally I'm quite confident in any situation. Almost nonchalant to a fault. I'd consider myself 100% straight, even if I prefer porn with good looking, well hung men. Especially when the guy/girl ratio tips to the dicks! But something about this man and this situation has me twisted up. I've always loved the outdoors and constantly daydream about sneaking a camp in this closed section. Living naked a few days and fucking the chick(s!?) I coerce into coming with me constantly.
The guy chuckles a bit, breaking my thought process. He seems to notice my discomfort, and he is definitely taking some pleasure in making me uncomfortable.
He has to be ten years my senior, shirtless and tan, in the manner of a man who spends a lot of time at the lake and on the water, he stood watching us walk away. His hair was dark brown with sun-lightened highlights. Well-built, he stood about six foot, maybe more, a hunk of a man who laughs a bit, and I can feel his gaze as I leave.
Despite myself, I can't stop my head from attempting a sidelong glance back over my shoulder like a hottie in a short skirt had just passed me.
My imagining his gaze was not just imagined.
My cheeks heated when I saw that he was watching me. Just standing there, legs shoulder width apart and his toned arms hanging casually, in these tiny, loose, bright blue shorts. Bulging provocatively in front, they were a less-than subtle indicator of what hides beneath. I swear my 1/2 hard cock would drop out the leg!
He pushed his hips forward, and his cock head became clearly visible.
"Fucking turn away!" I think wrenching myself back into line.
"What is going on right now? Too much sun. That's gotta be it."
Shoring myself back up, Chris and I top the hill and make the short walk to the cars.
"Welp, that was mediocre," Chris said as he closed his tailgate.
"You caught more than I did," I replied.
"Yours was way bigger," he said, dejectedly.
"Ha! That's what she said!"
With a chortled laugh, Chris opened the door to leave. I dropped my sunglasses in my passenger seat. My gear stowed, i prepared to leave but my feet were oddly slow.
"You heading home?" Chris asked.
"I don't know, I may go try a few more casts," my reply sounded hollow to me.
Laughing, Chris said, "one measly fish and you've got the fever! See you later man," he said.
I waved and climbed into my car, but the keys stayed in my pocket. The image of his dick printing on the thin fabric of his shorts burned in my mind.
"I've got the fever all right."
Chris' truck rumbled off, and I sat.
"Could I really see his dick through those shorts, or was it all in my head?"
My own cock twitched at the thought.
"Why do I care? What the fuck, man?"
"Because I want to see it. If he didn't want people to see, why wear that?"
The battle raged aloud to an audience of none inside my car. Without too much of a fight from my more sensible side, the inner voyeur and the increasing strain in my shorts won out. If I wasn't free-balling, I'd be very uncomfortably snug in my boxer-briefs. I climbed back out of the car, and grabbed my baitcaster.
"Have to appear like i'm not trying to spy on him," I assured my conscience.
I walked quietly back over the hill and to the cove where his dogs jumped us. Trying not to draw his attention, or that of the dogs. I made a cast and looked up where he was before. Seeing nothing, I moved another cove down. A couple of half-assed casts later, I hear something above and to my left. Turning up, I spot him sitting on a dilapidated picnic table.
Again, he was watching me. Again, I could feel it in the pit of my stomach.
"I'm supposed to be peeping him, not getting stared down," I think. "So much for being sneaky, idiot" I reprimand myself.
I sigh and turn back to my "fishing".
Moving slowly along the bank as casually as I could, I got closer and closer to him. Sneaking another glance his way, I excitedly see that he has finally stopped staring at me.
I crane my neck trying to get a better view. He sat with his legs splayed out and his arms reached behind him, holding him upright. I could almost see the front of his shorts from my angle and I leaned over sideways.
His head swings my way and I practically give myself whiplash snapping back toward the water. Another flash of heat rises on my face. I know I'm bright red.
"Why am I acting like a twelve-year-old, afraid of talking to the hot girl in class?"
"Why am I equating a dude to that?"
I hear him shuffling around on the table, and I have to fight myself from making another attempt at sneaky peek. Taking a few steps to the side, I launch a cast out into the lake. I risk a look and see he's laid back, one foot up on the table, the other dangling on the far side. His head now rested on the table looking skyward. The position had his legs spread wide, and the bright blue drew my attention.
The guy had found a rather secluded table, he couldn't be seen from the water unless you were standing were I was currently. staring like a moron. The dogs are playing in the lake 20 or so yards away. They splash away without a care in the world. I look back at the table, he has opened his nicely muscled legs wider. The view is exactly what I was hoping for. I can see his whole body is built quite nicely. Well defined pecs and abs, a lot like the guys I enjoy watching in porn.
Looking back down I notice his bulge is visible, tenting out the front of his shorts. I imagine I can see the ridge of his head. I realize he's staring right at me.
"Busted me!"
He smiles knowingly and opens his legs wider still. I can see a definite tan line in the slight gap at his thigh! I feel a tingle run down my spine to settle in the head of my cock, which stiffens. Blushing and getting gooey inside, I turn away.
"Pussy," I call myself under my breath.
I cast again, barely cognizant of the lake or where my lure wound up. That fleeting flash of pale skin was all I could see in my mind.
My thoughts drift away and I'm watching scrambled cable porn at my grand parents' house with my cousin and best friend. We're staying over to go fishing the next morning. Horny and extremely frustrated teens not seeing more than flashes of tits, or sometimes an ass. We stare transfixed and psychically willing the signal to clear enough to actually see something. All trying and failing to hide that we are rubbing aching dicks under thin sheets. The knowledge that all three of us were playing at the same time served to increase the sexual tension. A big, veiny, hard cock appears out of the fuzzy lines, headed for a pair of distorted red lips, my own dick jumps and throbs harder in my hands.
"Whoa!," I think, confused. "That was weird. I want T&A?! Not that!"
A year or two later we're staying over again, and we find betamax porn tapes in the closet, looking for the .22 pistol my cousin swears is on the top shelf. We hook up a player in the back bedroom, and watched 80's porn all night every time we stayed over. And let me just say we fished a ton that summer.
My thoughts fixate on my favorite scenes, which always had the nicest dicks. One in particular that my buddies always fast forwarded through (to my dismay) was a solo guy jacking into a blue pair of panties. I always watched that scene when they'd fall asleep. Silently and swiftly masturbating to a second or third nut of the night. Another favorite, was an extreme close up of a hot cheerleader chick slowly sliding the jock's spandex workout shorts off his huge member, which was already throbbing and the tip glistens with precum. She licks from balls to tip and slurps up the juice. I stifled a gasp and came all over myself the first time we saw it. My best friend gave me a sideways glance as I forced myself not to shudder and moan aloud. I know he could see the wet spot blossoming over my barely hidden cock.
