Bareback Mountain

My college friend invited me to join him on a week in the woods camping expedition. A city kid I had always made fun of his Wyoming upbringing and now he was challenging me to his world. I never doubted his outdoorsman skills, or equipment. We went up country in late September for some fly fishing and rut participation.

We drove up, left the truck and backpacked to an area that he licked and had camped in before. The tents were small, we did have ground covers but the hardness of the ground came right through. The toilets were downwind in the bush, take the shovel, dig a hole and cover up your poop, and use the TP he brought for the occasion. Roughing it was real.

Fly fishing was hard, impossible. The river was ice cold, no bathing just wash your face. And the noise of the rut, it never crossed my mind it was the males fighting, not mating that we heard. We ate stuff, camp food, fish he caught, drank filtered water, no alcohol, and bugs.

When he asked if I wanted to crawl in his tent with him I had to ask him if he was serious. Not my way, he assured me it was his and he always had feelings for me. This guy, big guy, outdoors guy tells me he is gay and he was serious, and he wanted me in his tent. You never know what you are going to do.

Bareback Mountain is what I thought about, out there in the dark of night, in the cold, I was going to get my ass fucked. His hot body around me in his oversized sleeping bag, he came prepared with a thick greasy lube and a large index finger to start me off. His cock followed, slow deliberate penetration, gripped hard to him he slid it all in before fucking me in strong deliberate thrusts. I was surprised when I came hard into the sleeping bag, he came a few seconds later.

The rut was what he took me up there for, and he proved to be strongest male that night.

Comments

No comments yet... be the first to comment on this confession!

Comment this

Can't read the image? Click here to refresh