We then made our way to the “nautical” section of the store. You wouldn’t think a store in Pittsfield Massachusetts would have much in the way of ship supplies, more than hundred miles to the ocean and all, but there were enough rich folks around who piloted boats in the nearby lakes that Carr’s stocked all manner of boating accessories, basic and complex.
We chose some nice silver galvanized eye-bolts, sized right for the rope and went to the cashier with some hardware and fifty feet of cotton rope, most likely way more than we needed, but we’d have it in our supply setup anyway. We returned to the car with stupid grins on our mugs.
With cloud cover our summer day wasn’t all that warm. We decided we couldn’t do our preferred outdoor type of penis play. Instead we drove to one of our favorite spots, down a rutted dirt backroad that nobody hardly ever used, headed off a little ways behind a grove of hemlock trees and parked.
On the way, Roger had pulled out his prick from his jeans and waved it around as the van lurched around on the road. I salivated. He was hot to trot.
We parked, pulled the curtains shut and settled down in the back of the van. Clothes came off fast.
I sat there looking at my bud, both our cocks out and hard before we’d even done anything to each other.
Roger’s got a middle-aged belly, lots of hair, but he’s well put together. I loved how his balls swung when he peeled his clothes off.
“I can only do once today, bud,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t be two for you.” I figured he had a good supply of pent-up semen in him.
I was impatient and had Roger lie down on the mattress we kept in the bus, all rolled up and set for just this sort of thing.
Had him spread out his arms and legs in an “X” position, his prick already hard and pointing up his belly.
Grabbed a carpenter’s pencil out of the small tackle box of tools I kept in the bus, stocked with simple hand tools, a couple screwdrivers, some box wrenches, spare parts and hardware I always kept around for emergency repairs.
Put marks on the woodwork Roger had so nicely done to line the van’s sides, indicating where it looked suitable to put the restraint eye-bolts.
My own cock bobbed as I did this.
I saw Roger’s eyes on my prick while I maneuvered around. He had that hungry look he gets, and I had to laugh.
After we had done our little rope attachment points markings and calculations, of course we had gotten seriously worked up.
The sun had come out from the clouds and the van was starting to get uncomfortably warm.
We’re both sitting there, with erections pointing straight up, looking at each other.
I raised my eyebrows.
“Outside?”
Roger nodded. In the sun it would be warm, but the breeze would feel good and keep the mosquitoes away. One of our favorite clearings was nearby, it would work.
“A nude run to the sun? Eh?” He wagged his erection from side to side.
We laughed. We pulled on socks and boots, that was all. I grabbed a blanket, and we made a dash, cocks waving wildly from side to side through the forest to the clearing, moving too fast for the bugs to follow.