Though I had grown up in the bayou country south of New Orleans, I had gone North after college to seek fortune, if not fame. After about ten years in New York City, the money was coming in and I really enjoyed living in Manhattan. The pace there is fast, though, so after a business meeting in Memphis I decided to take a few extra days, go back to Louisiana to visit family and drive leisurely through some of my old haunts.

I drove south across the Lake Pontchartrain causeway and headed west for a few miles before turning south. The new elevated highway cut right through the swamps, but I wanted to travel on the old roads that I remembered, so I exited down to the ground level. This is what I remembered and, except for the omnipresent elevated highway which paralleled the old road, things were pretty much the same - a languid bayou alongside the road, cypress swamps draped in moss, white herons standing about, the occasional turtle, snake or even alligator. All quiet, and with very little noise except for the traffic hum from the elevated road that I had just left.

After about a mile I came to an area that had been cleared and bulk-headed for use as a boat launch. I recognized it very well, since I used to come here for fishing and crabbing when I was in college at LSU. In those days it was used quite regularly but, since the new highway had been built, this area seemed to be neglected and overgrown and there was only one pick-up truck with a boat trailer in the parking lot. I drove into the lot, parked my car and decided to just sit on the grassy part of the bulkhead, get some sun and enjoy the beauty and tranquility. I took off my shirt and tennis shoes and just kept on my running shorts. Just like in the old days I planned to luxuriate in the pervasive Louisiana heat. If nobody was about I might even sunbathe nude.

The bulkhead was partially screened from the road by a thicket of reeds. I sat down after checking for snakes and other unwanted critters nearby. I hadn’t noticed it earlier because of the thicket, but now I saw a small aluminum skiff anchored in the middle of the bayou, and I guessed, correctly as it turned out, that it belonged to the pick-up truck with the trailer. I say I noticed the skiff, but it’s more accurate to say I noticed the guy in the skiff.

He was standing in the boat, his back to me, casting for fish with his rod and reel. He was shirtless, nut-brown, slender, about 5’9”, well-built without being obnoxious, wearing tennis shoes and faded, threadbare and very short cutoff jeans. His hair was straight and jet black, just like so many of the Cajun boys and men around here, and cut to a medium length.

He cast, reeled in, cast, reeled in without seeming to get too many nibbles from the fish.

After about five minutes, he turned around to fish from the other side of the boat, saw me sitting on the dock and nodded a silent greeting, as is the custom in this area. I nodded back. Now I could really see him - mid-twenties, good-looking face, luscious smooth chest, nice legs and biceps, great tan. If the fish weren’t biting I certainly was! He continued fishing, and I continued admiring his sexy physique. I wasn’t very shy or reticent - I didn’t live in New York for nothing - so whenever he’d see me looking at him I wouldn’t turn away but just kept looking at his face and body. I may have even licked my lips!

After about five more minutes of casting with no luck he reeled in, lifted his anchor and started his motor. He started drifting down the bayou with the current, but the engine caught and he soon maneuvered the boat around and headed to the boat launch. As he went past he looked me straight in the eyes and flashed a beautiful smile. My heart actually skipped a beat and I felt a simultaneous twinge in my loins.

As he was beaching the boat I got up and headed over to give him a hand. He was already on shore with the rope from the front of the skiff, the rope that he would then have to attach to the winch on his trailer. I knew he had to back up his trailer into the water before starting the winching process, so I’d offer to hold the rope until he did so.

It was though he was waiting for me. I went up to him and asked if I could help. “Sure. Just hold on to this rope and I’ll back up the trailer. My name’s Rodney, but I prefer Rod.”

I shook his extended hand, introduced myself and took the rope from him. He got in his pick-up, started it up and backed the trailer down onto the slope of the boat launch and into the water. He took the rope from my hand, flashed another smile and proceeded to winch the boat up onto the trailer. I just stood there, admiring his perfect torso as he worked, though I did help guide the boat onto the trailer’s runners. His face, chest and arms were beaded with a fine coating of perspiration as he worked. He got into his pick-up and drove back up into the parking lot, trailer and boat in tow. I had a feeling he wasn’t just going to drive away.

Sure enough, he stopped the engine and got out of his truck, reached into a cooler still in the boat, and took out two cans of beer, plus a beach towel from the bottom of the boat. As he walked towards me I noticed the top button on his cut-offs was unfastened and the zipper about half way down. He must have just done this, otherwise I would certainly have noticed before! He was not wearing underwear, so I could see his taut, smooth, tanned abdomen and just a hint of dark pubic hairs. All I could do was stare, giddy as a schoolgirl.

He came over to me and handed me one of the dripping cans of ice-cold beer. “Thanks for the help,” he said.

“Sure,” I replied, “did you have any luck today?”

“Well, not with the fish, but it looks like my luck may be about to change.”

I laughed and looked straight down at the V in his cutoffs. I could see the outline of his semi-hard cock through the worn and faded denim and the head was starting to poke out from the bottom of his shorts. I wanted to strip off those shorts with my teeth, see the rest of his splendid naked body, and suck his cock down right then and there. Sure, we were in the open, but nobody else was about and I didn’t care. I wanted him and his cock in me somewhere and I wanted them now.

I gulped the rest of the beer and set the can down, took a step closer to him, and touched his crotch. He moaned slightly, and I could feel his dick quiver through the thin denim. I unzipped his pants the rest of the way and struggled to get these tight jeans down past his ever-hardening prick, but I succeeded. What a beautiful sight as his dick swung free, back and forth after being released from captivity. His erect penis was in perfect proportion to the rest of his body - a straight 7” cut, of medium circumference, dark, standing straight out from his balls at 90 degrees, all in a beautiful thick bush of glistening black pubic hair. I eased his pants down completely, and he stepped out of them, now completely nude except for his tennis shoes.

Where to start? I wanted to lick the moisture off of his entire body, bend him over and rim his asshole, whirl him around and suck his sweet dick. I grabbed on to his cock with one hand, cupped his balls in the other, and just stood there jerking him off ever so gently, stroking back and forth. A couple of drops of pre-cum nectar oozed out of the slit of his prick. I was just planning to go down on him and take his rod into my mouth when he reached over, grabbed the waistband of my shorts and pulled them down to my ankles. I quickly got out of them and just stood there with him, both of us rock hard and naked. It was perhaps the most erotic moment in my life, and yet describing it just cannot do it justice. The hot day, the hot guy, the cold beer I had gulped, the anticipation of the sex that was to come, all this was too much to bear! We stood there for a few minutes, caressing each other’s cocks, balls and nipples, then we hugged each other, body against body, prick against prick, and we continued to explore each other’s bodies with our hands and each other’s mouths with our tongues.

He then picked up the beach towel with one hand, grabbed my dick with the other and started leading me away into the thicket. We followed a rough path through the reeds until we were on the grassy part of the bulkhead where I had been sitting previously. He let go of my dick and bent over to spread the beach towel on the bulkhead, where we’d be screened from any automobiles though certainly open to exposure from any boats on the bayou. Fortunately, there were none.

I couldn’t wait. As he bent over to spread the beach towel I reached over and brushed his ass with both of my hands. He gasped, bent over further, and opened his legs so I could get better access to his button. Oh, man! I kneeled down, continued to massage his ass, but spread his cheeks apart so I could see his hole. I started licking the crack of his ass and quickly got down to his puckered ground zero. I took large licks around the whole area, then started taking small jabs with my tongue into his asshole. I reached between his legs and started stroking his hairy balls and the underside of his dick while continuing to rim him. He really seemed to be enjoying this, but so was I!

I stopped, spun him around and immediately started sucking on his cock. I was so hungry for him! I licked the mushroom head of his cock all around, then put the whole length into my mouth and kept it there. He moaned loudly as his big dick was rammed against the back of my throat while I used my front teeth to apply pressure to the base of his cock. Then I would retract, nibble on the head, and plunge back all the way down to the base, dragging my teeth and tongue ever so lightly over his cock. He dug this, and then put his hands around the back of my head and really started fucking my mouth - in, out, in, out, short jabs, long thrusts, pulling it out and rubbing his wet dick all over my face.

After about five minutes of this, both of us now sweating profusely, he took his cock out of my mouth and helped me to rise. “What do you want?” he asked. “I want to hold your cock in my mouth and have you shoot a huge load of cum down my throat. I want your dick between my legs, rubbing against my own dick until we both cum. I want you to cum all over my cock and balls so that I can jerk off with your cum all over me. I want to fuck you. I want you to fuck me.” He laughed easily. “Okay, now that that’s clear….”

He lay down on the beach towel, motioned for me to kneel beside him, and he immediately took my dick into his mouth and started giving me the hottest blowjob I had ever had, all the while masturbating his own cock. This was HOT, but as much as I liked having him suck me off I wanted his dick just as badly. I got over him in a classic 69. Do I need to describe how I bobbed up and down on his slimy dick while sliding my own up and down in his mouth? I would look down and see my own hard rod as it went up and down between those beautiful hungry lips, and that just made me harder than ever.

It was too much! I wanted to stop and take a breather so that I wouldn’t cum too soon, but passion overwhelmed me. I slowed my strokes in preparation for the advent of a prolonged orgasm when Rod groaned, bucked wildly and came. His hot, sweet cream filled my mouth. I swallowed it in two big gulps and kept his dick in my mouth while I shot my own load into his waiting mouth in five or six orgasmic spasms. I know it sounds trite, but the world stopped - there were no jobs, no worries, no NYC, nothing. There was nobody else except us two, exhausted, wordless, satiated, drained, lying naked on the bayou bank together. FINIS

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