The Knoll

My college campus is set in the hills above a small coastal town. One of the pleasures of my commute is that long, smooth bike path that leads from the highest point on campus to the Main Entrance at the foot of the hill. Before the longest stretch of downhill, there is a slight crest amongst the rolling golden hills. At the peak, heading off the bike path is a small dirt trail. Down the trail there is a clearing in the tall grasses where a small bench sits, with a perfect view over the city and across the bay below. This is a nice place to get high, and many students use this as an after-class smoke spot. Farther down this path, towards the line of redwoods that mark the beginning of the woods, a lone, twisted oak tree shades a cluster of fallen trunks, an array of natural benches under the canopy. I love to read couched in the bends of the branches of this oak.

This sunny afternoon, I had pulled my bike up short at the crest, and wheeled it down the path to the tree. I was just leaning it up against a bough when I noticed that the tree was populated. The tree wasn't my secret, it was known and used, but I still found it somewhat surprising to find someone there. I looked around and realized it was one man, about my age, doing pretty much what I had intended to do. But his book was in his hand, forgotten, and the sunlight filtering through the leaves dappled his bare chest, where he lazily twirled his finger. He turned at my approach, and met me with a broad smile of white teeth on tanned skin under soft blue eyes.

I introduced myself, and waved my book at him,

"Looks like we're here for the same thing."

He laughed lightly and returned the wave, halfheartedly. "Yeah, guess so, finding myself dreaming more than reading, though, it's too nice out!"

I set myself up at an angle towards him, so we could talk if we wanted or not, no pressure. I sat down and began to read.

I like my reading material to reflect my environment, and it wasn't working. The book was a dense sci-fi dark mass with puzzles and coal black imagery, the bizarre words and brutish violence clashed with the beautiful sunshine and warm sea breeze. I noticed I wasn't reading, just staring over the top of my book, off across the shady grove and to the sea. In the left of my eye was that other guy, he turned as I looked at him, and our eyes met. A small flash of those pure teeth.

A few minutes later, I think, my head snaps up short. I've nodded off, literally laid my head on my chest and knocked out. I look around, I can't have been out more than a half-hour. The other guy is gone, or, no, he's outside of the tree's arms, standing stock still in the grasses, reaching high above his head with both arms and staring into the sun. Mountain Pose. He bent, and stepped, twisted and righted until he returned to the same stock still position. He was doing sun salutations to the sunset. I could see the clean muscles ripple along his back, and his smooth toned legs stretched wide with every repetition. After a few more, he stops abruptly and turns, he smiles at me watching and starts towards me.

He has a thin thread across his chest, purple, or some dark blue, but the dusk light won't show it clearly. His only clothing, some light shorts, are wrapped tightly around his hips, from the stretching. I can see him, his cock, tight against the material, wrapped slightly around one leg. He stops in front of me, and cocks an eyebrow.

"Do you practice?"

"Yoga? No, I'm more of a cyclist."

"Oh, that's a bummer, yoga's great for your body, better than anything."

"So I here, you know, I just like to go fast. "

This man, this tanned, blonde, man. The body of a twisting sapling, and the brow of a noble, stepped in and kissed me, straight on the lips.

"Is that fast enough?"

I kissed him back, pried his mouth open with mine and searched his perfect lips with my tongue. His hands were all over me, under the back of my shirt, pulling it up and over my shoulders, we broke the kiss. He stopped to admire my broad chest, and smooth stomach. We came together and our clean supple flesh rubbed and massaged each other, we ground our hips together, two cocks, yearning for release, yearning to spring up from their bonds and into the warm depths of a mouth, an ass, or a hand. I won that race, with two thumbs he hooked the hem of my shorts, and slid them down as he squatted in front of me, lowering himself slowly so to kiss me all the way down.

My cock sprang up as the elastic band slid achingly slowly down across the shaft, and popped off the head. I could feel his hot breath on my cock, I flicked it up, and on its fall he caught it neatly on his tongue, right under the head, his face bent back and my dick lying across his mouth. His lips were next, small light kisses and flicking licks with his tongue. After the lips, he took my into his warm mouth, and sucked me with his cheeks, and rubbed his wet mouth up and down my shaft, where he painted my balls with his tongue. Burying his face below my cock, he took each ball in his mouth and rolled them around with care. Then back up to the head, a quick kiss, and he slams his face down to my stomach, my cock bending down his hot, wet throat. Up and down, again and again, he fucks his face on my cock, sucking the fuck out of it the whole time.

With a pop, I'm out of his mouth, and he's standing up, coming up to my level. His chin drips spit and precum, and I kiss him, and suck it in to my mouth, then I'm down, and I slobber his rod. I'm taking it so far down my throat I can't breathe, just need more of his gorgeous, iron uncut stick. He grabs my head and thrusts the deepest I've ever taken a cock, and with each short pump I can feel hot cum flood into my mouth, some down my throat and most around his beautiful cock, pumping me with cum. He slows his pace and pulls out of my soaking mouth. I reach up with a hand and spit his cum and my spit into my hand, and stand myself. He's looking awfully satisfied, and his cock begins to lower.

I take his hand and shake my head,

"Nuh uh, not through yet, sweetie."

His eyes light up in surprise, and delight, as I twirl him neatly and guide him from behind over to the nearest fallen log. I push him over at the shoulders and he bends and braces himself, spreading his fine toned legs and leaving his cute pink asshole pointing up at me and sloppy, droopy cock hanging below. I take the cum in my hand, and lube my own cock, then use two cummy fingers to open his ass, and warm him up. Then, I push the head through his outer ring, and I thrust down his tight ass. I don't see or feel anything from there, I just fuck him, and his screams and moans are the score to my ecstasy. I remember his ass exploding cum when I pulled out my cock, and watching my seed slowly weep down those fine thighs.

When he turns around, I kiss him again. Slower, this time, no biting, and a gentle tongue. He meets me here, and we stand, embracing. The sun has gone and the moon is yet to come. I cannot see him in the dark. I cannot see his blue eyes, or bright teeth. He doesn't have a tan in this light, and his sleek form is indistinguishable from the growing shadows behind it. With a finger to my lips, he turns and grabs his bag. I can hear him leave, swishing through the grass.