I want to thank my editor for challenging me to stretch my boundaries. They prefer to be nameless right now, but they know how to challenge me to stretch my mind and learn more about writing that I ever dreamed.
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In the 10 years that they'd been taking this trip, this was the shittiest hunting either of them had ever suffered through. They'd been in camp almost a week, since the beginning of deer season, and all they'd seen is the occasional sign that something was tramping around in the woods.
Ralph was the first one back by almost an hour, giving him time to grow even more disgusted by the sounds of rifles and shotguns going off in the distance, evidence that someone was having better luck than he. By the time Sam came into camp his mood had turned from bad to worse, and he had added tired and hungry to his list of complaints.
"Looks like a storm's rolling in," Sam remarked good naturedly, looking up at the sky.
Ralph scowled at the dark, rolling clouds. Great, just the fucking thing we need to cap of a spectacular fucking day of chasing our tails around here, he thought.
While they fixed dinner they cracked a six pack and made small talk, both of them avoiding the topic of whether or not they'd be able to get any hunting in the next day if the storm didn't break. As they ate they watched lightning streak intermittently across the sky, and listened as thunder would rumble somewhere far off. A little buzzed, Ralph told Sam that it was too bad he wasn't home, because his wife got so horny during storms that she was an animal in bed.
He was 35 and had only been married a year. He was smaller than Sam, but very muscular from weight lifting. In contrast, Sam was older, with graying hair and on his second marriage, ten years strong and holding. The two men had known each other for years, having met on the job and becoming friends almost instantly. Ralph had been with Sam through his first marriage and subsequent divorce, and they found each other face down and hung over in the other's guest bedroom more often than either would ever care to admit.
Conversation between the two men came easily. The more they drank, the raunchier the talk got, each trying to top the others wild sex story. By the time they crawled into their sleeping bags, they were both on edge, their minds clouded with thoughts of fucking.
Ralph tossed for what seemed hours, trying to get comfortable, willing the pressure in his balls to subside. Squirming uneasily, he finally gave in and cupped his balls, squeezing them, losing himself in the gentle yet insistent manipulation. He bit down hard on his lower lip to stifle a groan, his boxers now wet from all the precum leaking, and he was having trouble concentrating on anything other than his sore, throbbing cock and balls. Peeling back his sleeping bag, he was about to swing his legs out so he could go outside and jerk off when the deafening sound of rain surrounded him. The tent vibrated ominously as the drops splattered its surface, increasing in force until Ralph could feel the ground tremble slightly.
"Damn it!" he swore under his breath, his head falling back on the pillow.
The pulsing in his balls matched the staccato beat of the rain, clouding his reason and leading him to make a decision that under normal circumstances he never would have considered. He was so horny, and so close, that he was able to convince himself that he could probably unload before Sam noticed if he kept quiet. Slipping out of his boxers, he groaned as his cock came free of the binding cotton. Gripping it, he stroked slowly, shivering as the cool night air came in contact with his hot member.
He closed his eyes and thought about his wife, her wonderful mouth, that tight pussy, and stroked harder, grabbing himself all the way down at the base and jerking his hand roughly up to the soft, sensitive crown. More precum welled up and oozed down the shaft, covering his hand, the sounds of his pumping masked by the downpour outside. He grunted softly, arching his back to meet his hand.
The sound of thunder close by, seemingly right outside the tent, shocked his eyes opened. A moment later a bolt of lightning struck much too close for comfort, bathing the tent in a blaze of electric blue light, and Ralph's eyes found Sam's in that brief instant of illumination.
Sam was kneeling next to him, having moved there while Ralph was attending to his need. The knowledge that his friend was so close, had been watching him for God knows how long, was too much for Ralph and his cock exploded. Thick, hot, sticky streams of cum shot out all over his belly and dripped down his balls, pooling beneath his ass. Breathing raggedly, his eyes still not adjusted to the dark again, Ralph's whole body went rigid as he felt Sam's hand settle on his still erect cock. He never softened after the first cum; under the right circumstances, he could easily stay hard for two or three.
The first thing Sam noticed about his friend's cock was that it was thicker than his own. He looked over at Ralph, saw the dazed look on his face, but he also noticed that he wasn't pulling away. He bent over, touching Ralph's cock with his tongue, scooping up some of the cum and swallowing it noisily.
He'd been having trouble sleeping, needed to come real bad, and had turned over to see if Ralph was having the same problem. At first he couldn't quite make out what was going on over there, thought Ralph might be in some sort of trouble; it took him a moment to realize that the "trouble" was just Ralph playing with himself. The longer he watched, the more turned on he got, caught up in the eroticism of the act.
