Jeffrey's Naked Adventures Part 1 - By one of my favorite Authors Kyle D

 When I read Kyle's first work, I immediately fell in love with his writing and his character Jeffrey.  We then went on to collaborate and switched characters and I wrote as Jeffrey and he wrote as Scott, and then a combination of us together.    I've lost touch with him over the years, but I'm hopeful he or someone who reads this remembers him and gets in touch.

JEFFREY'S NAKED ADVENTURES

Prologue

Jeffrey Stevens, twenty-eight-year-old account executive, is about as

nice a guy as you would ever hope to meet. Exuding masculine charm,

he is popular with both men and women, liked by virtually everyone.

Exceptions might be those women whose flirtations he has resisted (not

many of those!), and men who are intimidated by his stunning physique

or jealous of his magnetic attractiveness to females. Not that they

would hear about his conquests from Jeff himself; no, this is one guy

the girls are proud to whisper about that they have bedded. But Jeff

is a quiet man, shy really. To the world, it is almost as if he has

never seen himself in a mirror. Though not without poise and social

confidence, he is never one to call attention to himself. Even his

wardrobe seems designed to promote anonymity, dark-colored,

loose-fitting. While he is a regular at the gym, no one has seen the

middle regions of his physique even there. Only in the darkness of

quiet bedrooms, one girl at a time, has Jeffrey ever exposed his

hidden treasures. And that is why all of his efforts to conceal have

never worked:

Women talk.

The reason for Jeff's physical shyness gives them quite a lot to talk

about. Those who have seen it wax eloquent in describing it to the

less privileged. Those who have been impaled on it, from one

direction or another, brag of the exploit. A few admit with a tone of

defeat that they looked upon it, but turned away in fear.

You see, Jeffrey has a Schlong. Not the biggest in the world, but a

bit over ten inches erect, straight and thick, with a big, flaring,

mushroom head. Even flaccid, it hangs a good seven, and the rim of

that magnificent cut head is not easy to hide in a trouser-leg. On

top of that, or rather hanging below that, his testicles are like

hens' eggs, dangling loosely in a stretched-out sling of a scrotum.

Being shy, Jeff learned early back in his home town that the other

boys, admiring or not on the inside, treated him to laughter and

derision on the outside. Once he was out on his own in a new place,

he kept that one-eyed trouser snake and its eggs in their den.

Jeffrey also has a dirty little secret.

Inside, underneath that shy, nice-guy exterior, lives a raging sex

maniac. He has the erection control of a thirteen-year-old, the semen

production of a porn star, the staying power of a satyr, and the

sexual focus of a rooster. This boy was born hard, and that is the

true reason he does not trust himself ever to drop trou outside of an

established sexual situation. The mere hint of fresh air is

sufficient to make his boner reach for the sky. But so can even the

most slightly sexual thought—and Jeffrey has a sexual thought about

every four seconds. For underwear, he wears a tight, strong jock, yet

even that has sometimes failed to prevent Willie from breaking free.

Alone in his home, Mr. Hyde is on the loose, for there, Jeff is the

opposite of his public persona. He loves to be nude, and he loves to

be hard, and he stays both ways all the time that he is at home. Far

from being modest, he strips the moment he steps out of his car in the

garage, buck naked before the door goes down. And he slips into

clothing just before the door rises, dick leading the way, bobbing at

a 45 degree angle in front of his navel.

As we look in on Jeffrey today, we find that he does, in fact, know

what he looks like in the mirror, for he is standing there now, at

8:30 on Saturday morning, examining his physique (and morning wood)

with interest and satisfaction. Since we are interested, too, let's look.

Jeff stands 6 feet 2 inches tall. His full head of hair is dark and

lanky, almost straight, with just a hint of a wave. It dangles in

front to his eyebrows, but he keeps it trimmed out of his eyes and off

his ears. His face is oval, but with a strong jaw, his ears neatly

formed, his nose straight and proportionate, his chin strong. His

eyes are just a bit on the large side, and in contrast to the tanned,

smooth skin of his face, startlingly blue. His mouth is generous, his

smile is easy, and his teeth are even and white. It is a face for

magazine covers.

The smooth, tanned skin continues down his graceful, strong neck,

spreading into wide and well-muscled shoulders. His biceps swell with

power. His chest is deep, with sculpted pectorals, each with a small

brown tit that begs to be sucked upon. His abdomen ripples like waves

on the ocean when he moves. There is a patch of black hair in each

armpit, and a slender treasure trail from the neat innie navel

downward, but other than that, his torso is smooth and sleek. The

explosion of pubes is well-defined, but not luxuriant. Here, the only

place on his body that Jeff resorts to improving upon nature, he trims

his bush subtly into a neat and manicured oval. His balls, lightly

sprinkled with hair by nature, he keeps cleanly and smoothly shaved.

Then, of course, there is the magnificent dick, arching at the moment

in that half-way state between erection and flaccidity, ready to

rumble at the smallest prurient thought.

Jeff's strong, lean back vees downward to the swelling of his firmly

rounded buttocks, likewise smooth but for the swath of dark hairs that

sweeps through his crack and between his muscular thighs. And those

thighs! Sonnets are called for, but fail to deliver. They are long,

lean, muscular, and lightly haired, merging into rounded calves,

slender ankles, and manly but delicately boned, size 10 well-arched feet.

EPISODE ONE:

Jeff's Naked Beach Run

Jeff's mind broke from its reverie. He gave a small smile at himself,

standing naked in front of the full-length mirror with his big boner.

He was satisfied with what he saw, not that it mattered much. He was

only going to the beach for the day, and only with a friend from work,

Jake, from Accounting. Having showered already, Jeff was just about

to slip into his standard jock, when he paused and reached for the

swim shorts instead. He was only going to be with Jake and, though he

knew there would be many visual stimulations at the beach, there would

also be towels, a beach blanket to lie flat on, and as a last resort,

the ocean to cover in. It would be such a rare treat to free-ball,

Jeff decided to risk it. He slipped his sleeveless tee shirt over his

head, and his flip-flops onto his feet, and Jeff was all set.

Jake was a nice guy, and becoming a good companion. The two had been

playing tennis together lately, and several times, Jake, who lived

only two blocks away, had dropped by on his morning jog to invite Jeff

to run with him. Jeff had come to look forward to their outings,

which were always active and enjoyable. Today it was the beach.

A Jeep-horn blew in the driveway, and Jeff picked up his cooler and

his beach pack and strode out to meet his friend. Jake grinned, a

bare-chested Celtic warrior, from the driver's seat of the open

Wrangler. His short-cropped red hair glowed above a freckled and

cherubic, smooth-skinned face. Shorter than Jeff, and a bit

thicker-muscled, Jake was about 6 feet tall. His chest was deep and

powerful. His knotted shoulders and bulging biceps spoke of many

hours in the gym and origins in the deep end of the gene pool to boot.

His waist was not quite as slender as Jeff's, his butt not as

sculptured, his legs not as sleek. But over-all, he gave an

impression of power and vitality, from steel gut to thick thighs. He

wore only a pair of ratty old gym shorts, much shorter than the

current fashion dictates, no shirt, and his manly size-elevens were

bare. Together, they would be a studly duo in the Jeep and on the beach.

As Jeff settled his kit into the back, Jake swung around in his seat a

quarter turn and offered his hand, to go with the big smile, in

greeting. Jeff's eye swept quickly over the big, muscled hunk in his

flimsy shorts—and settled briefly on a large, red cock-head poking out

of Jake's right shorts leg. `Oh, well' thought Jeff with bemused

indifference. Jake himself seemed oblivious. `Man, if I dressed like

that, I'd have 3 inches of dick hanging out.' Jeff shuddered slightly

at the thought. But he shucked off his shirt and tossed it in back

before he buckled himself in for a harrowing race against nobody to

the seaside.

Sound system blaring, Jake grinning ear to ear as he swerved among the

traffic, the two bare-chested men attracted quite a lot of looking and

even two horn-beeps along the way, one from an SUV containing three

attractive babes, and one from a bearded and grizzled truck driver who

grinned down at them. `Now, what's with that guy,' wondered Jeff. He

hadn't looked back at Jake's lap again, and he was unaware that there

were now several inches of semi-hard cock plus one large testicle

hanging out of the shorts leg. `Oh, well, maybe those girls will be

at the beach, too.'

And they were. Just as he settled down onto the beach blanket after

he and Jake had staked out some space for themselves, he noticed them

twenty yards down the beach, unfolding beach chairs and unfurling an

umbrella. The three were all hot, especially the blonde—but Jeff

wouldn't have fought off either of the two brunettes, either. He

glanced over at Jake, the paleface, who had established himself under

his own umbrella to fend off as many new freckles as he could. He was

pretending to read the latest Sports Illustrated, while in fact, like

Jeff, he peeked through his shades at the various and sundry scantily

clad bodies that paraded in streams up and down the sand. What Jeff

failed to notice was that now both of Jake's balls hung from his

shorts leg and rested on the blanket, a fact that was not being missed

by several of the passers-by who couldn't resist giving these two

studs the once-over.

Jeff clumsily applied sunscreen, hoping foolishly that one of the

girls would come over and offer to help. No dice. The only offer he

got was from Jake, whose hard, strong hands made short work of

smearing the cream all over Jeff's muscular back. Jeff watched and

plotted.

Finally, the girls got up and began to walk toward the waves. `Aha,

they're going in swimming!' Jeff triumphed to himself.

"It's hot as hell out here. I'm going in the water."

Jake nodded. "Be there in a sec," he promised absently, still

scanning the article and the beach.

Jeff trotted toward the ocean, aware of how his long cock flopped

rhythmically in his shorts leg. Just as he was about the pass

tantalizingly close beside, the girls turned like a flock of birds and

started walking the wet sand up the shore, away from the public access

area and toward a more deserted stretch of beach.

`Shit.' It would be too much to turn and follow them. Now Jeff had

no alternative but to bound into the waves alone while he waited for

Jake and to see what transpired with the girls. They strolled

leisurely up the beach, stopping from time to time to pick up a shell.

The waves were higher than usual, and a warm breeze was blowing.

Since they were obviously going to be a while, within a few minutes,

Jeff was happily body-surfing. A few more minutes, and he dragged

himself up from a particularly heavy surf-pounding to notice that he

had been swept along by the current in the same direction the girls

had gone, at least several hundred yards. He could barely see Jake,

still at the blanket. There was no one in sight around him at all.

And his shorts were full of sand.

No problem. He simply moved into deeper water, as he had done

repeatedly, and took them off. He bobbed around on the sandy bottom

with the rise and fall of the waves, and turned his shorts inside out

to wash out as much of the sticky sand as possible.

The swirling currents felt great around his cock and balls and up his

crack. His dick began to lengthen, and he really did not want to put

those shorts back on. Glancing about furtively, Jeff began to stroke

on his firm rod. It responded instantly and pumped up to its full

erect size. The sensation was incredible, the swirling water and the

practiced massage of his hands on his big member. No chance of those

shorts going back on anytime soon. He kept an eye on the beach for

any traffic coming his way, but things were very quiet. He stuck one

foot through a leg of the shorts so that he could use both hands to

goon out, rising and falling with the waves.

He never really saw the windsurfer bearing down on him, but only heard

the wail, "Oh shit, man, look outtttt!" Another exceptional wave had

the hapless teen in its grasp, and the inexperienced surfer was

hanging on for life, struggling frantically to steer his runaway

sailboard. Jeff felt a sharp blow on the back of his head. It was a

sideswipe. The board had veered at the last possible second, and was

now skimming back over the top of the wave, further out to sea and

away from Jeff. But at the same moment, the wave crashed upon Jeff,

pressing him downward toward the sea floor. When he struggled to the

surface again, he saw the idiot teen who had run him over still just

hanging on, but speeding away down the shore. Jeff had a rising lump

and a small gash under the hair on the back of his head—and his swim

shorts were nowhere to be seen.

He scanned the surf, thinking they had to turn up somewhere, but he

saw nothing. He dived under the water and felt around. No luck.

Jeff was stranded in the waves, alone and buck naked.

II

For another fifteen minutes, Jeff swam about in the ocean, scanning

the breakers for his missing shorts, and thinking about how to get

hold of a towel. Only a handful of people, none with towels, all with

kids, passed by. He had decided to swim back down the beach to try to

get Jake's attention, when he saw Jake get up, look all around, and

then start strolling DOWN the beach, in the opposite direction,

seemingly looking for him.

He had studied the deserted beach directly in front of him. The dune

was intact there, with only two flights of wooden steps leading up to

gazebos, boardwalks leading away from the beach. It appeared to be a

private development. The rooflines visible in the distance were well

set back off the beach. Jeff was about to get desperate. He had been

in the water at least an hour, now, and he HAD to get to a towel. He

decided to make a sprint for the closest set of steps, get over the

dune, and see what he could find to cover with on the other side.

There was no way to find a time when he could be sure no one was

looking. He would just have to streak for it. He drifted up through

the crashing waves as far as he could, then stood and ran across the

sand toward the gazebo. Never had he felt so exposed! Running naked

across a beach, with a hundred people in easy viewing distance—his

dick flopping. Of course, the flopping, and the tension, caused it to

swell. Before he reached the first step, he was at full attention.

The warm wood of the step was a blessed relief to his bare feet. He

bounded up the dozen or so steps two and three at a time, furtively

glancing to left and to right toward the more populated areas of

beach. He glimpsed a few people looking in his direction, one child

pointing, laughing…

He reached the top of the steps and swerved into the gazebo—the

boardwalk passed through it and out on the back side—and in so doing,

he collided full-body with the first of the three babes he had been

stalking, the bosomy brunette. They had gone into the resort area to

pay a call on the aunt of the blonde chick, who had a house there, and

now they were returning to their place on the beach. As his naked

body struck hers, Jeff froze. His hands naturally rested on her

smooth, slender waist. His eyes met hers. His dick let out a big

drool of precum, which slimed her waist just at the bikini line. The

moment felt like it lasted ten minutes, but in reality it was no more

than a couple of seconds.

It was the skinnier brunette who broke the silence. She let out a

piercing scream, then partly covered her mouth. She sort of danced in

place, her eyes glued to Jeff's waving, dripping member, but continued

to emit that ear-splitting screech. Meanwhile, the blonde,

slack-jawed, scanned Jeff's entire body from behind her sunglasses.

Jeff began to babble. "Girls, I'm so sorry…I'm just looking for a

towel, or something… my shorts… lost… can't find…please excuse…."

There was nothing to do but run for it. They had no towel or other

covering with them, and the thin one seemingly could not stop

squealing. Jeff pulled away from her friend and set off down the

boardwalk toward the houses. The girls stood and gawped at his

retreating, undulating butt.

It was now clear that the purpose of this distance between houses and

shore was to provide a wetland. A small stream meandered in and out

from somewhere, leaving a marsh on this side of the dune. The two

boardwalks crossed it, about a hundred yards. In the center, there

was a square observation deck where the boardwalks were joined by a

cross-walk.

But Jeff was not interested in observing nature. He was sprinting at

top speed toward the buildings, and hopefully, a clothesline. Just as

he reached the crosswalk, however, he heard voices ahead. Back at the

beach, the screaming had stopped, and the three girls had scurried

down the steps and out of sight, jabbering excitedly about the naked

hunk who had run right into them. But now several people were

approaching from the other direction. There was no time to think.

Jeff vaulted over the rail and into the marsh. His feet sank into mud

and dark water just past the knees. Quickly, he ducked under the

boardwalk. Now he had his ass in the murky water as well.

Footsteps approached overhead. "Well, I though I saw….Hmm…" A

shadow loomed next to him, someone peering over the rail. "Oh, I

guess not," the woman's voice concluded. Steps receded toward the

beach, at least three people.

Jeff crouched there for only a few minutes. He looked at the water.

The head of his still-stiff dick was sticking out of it. `Buddy,

we're in a real fix here,' Jeff thought to his cock. `I've got to get

you out of here and under wraps, quick.' Realizing the girls might

send a posse back to look for him, he turned and swiveled out from

under the boardwalk. In doing so, he noticed that the log floating a

yard from his knee was not, in fact, a log, but a six-foot alligator.

"Eiuyoo!" he groaned

The gator opened one eye. "You bastard, don't you even think about

it!" But Jeff beat a hasty retreat, scrambling back up onto the

boardwalk more quickly than he normally would have been able to

accomplish the climb.

He looked down at his well-formed legs. Now they were coated in a

skin of gray mud. It caked his pubes and dripped off of his dick and

balls, too. So maybe, in addition to a towel, one of those outdoor

showers, or a hose….

He scurried on down the boardwalk, reaching the end this time without

incident.

Two rows of large, expensive houses faced one another across a park,

stretching away from the beach. On the second and third floors, he

even saw a few towels flapping on rails or clotheslines. But at the

ground level, there was nothing.

A front door opened at the second house, and Jeff darted around to the

back of the first one, screening himself where possible behind shrubs

and small palms.

The back of this house had no steps up to the porch, but on that

porch, twelve feet above, Jeff spied a towel tossed over the back of a

deck chair. And stretching up to the window beside that porch, within

arm's reach of the deck chair, was a ladder. Work was being done on

the window, but the workmen were nowhere in sight. It would only take

one minute, and Jeff's embarrassment would be covered.

He grasped the ladder and started climbing.

Just as he reached the porch rail and began to reach for the towel, he

heard the low, growling voice.

"Well, woodjew look at that. We got us a pervert."

Jeff's head whipped around. Below him stood the returning workmen,

three of them. The one who spoke was in his thirties, dark and

sweaty, with an Australian style khaki hat, jeans, and work boots.

His face was heavily stubbled, his chest and paunchy stomach covered

by sticky black hair. He had a mean look about him.

To his right stood another shirtless man, this one a couple of inches

taller at about six feet, a few years younger, and much fitter. Under

his blue cap was short-cropped dark hair. His chest was sprinkled

with more of it. He leered up at Jeff with amusement.

The third man, on the leader's other side, also shirtless, was only

eighteen or so. He wore a red ball cap and jeans shorts, socks and

sneakers. His smooth, tanned skin glistened with short golden hairs.

His expression was one of surprise and interest.

"Damn, what a view," said blue cap. And it was. The three were being

treated to a fantastic shot of the soles of Jeff's dirty feet, his

shapely, muddy legs, right up to the crack of his sexy but mud-covered

butt, with his manly balls swinging in the breeze.

"Guys, I just need a…you got this all wrong, I'm not…all I want is

just a towel," stammered Jeff, his unmuddied parts glowing a bright red.

"So you're runnin' around here butt nekkid to git one, then, Mr.

Pervert Pretty-boy?" said Aussie-hat. "We just better get that

security guard on the phone and see what he thinks ought to be done

with a goddam butt nekkid hard-on pervert son-of-a-bitch."

`Oh, shit,' thought Jeff. For a man who had worked and planned so

hard to avoid humiliation over his huge cock, his overeager erectile

tissues, and his overactive hormones, this was just about the worst

scene he could imagine. Now he stood eight feet up a ladder on the

side of a stranger's beach house, with three men looking straight up

his ass at his low-hanging balls. Beyond all reason, his dick

continued to inflate and throb. He glanced down, disgusted, and saw a

long streamer of sticky precum drip from its swollen head in a thread

down to his muddy kneedcap. `Can it get any worse than this?' he

wailed to himself.

"Fuck, man," pronounced the red-capped guy, "Get a load of the donkey

dick and the heavy hangers on this wacko." Perhaps it was for the

best that Jeffrey did not see the grin exchanged between the two

capped workers.

The guy in the hat, clearly the crew boss, sternly ordered Jeff to

climb slowly down the ladder, and warned his two crew members to get

ready to restrain him at the bottom.

"Just let me get this towel here," began Jeff, but he was cut off

"That ain't yer property, pervert. Now just git yer nekkid ass on

down here, and leave people's stuff alone."

Jeff glumly descended. The guys in caps clamped down on his bulging

biceps as soon as one foot hit the ground. One stared admiringly at

Jeff's profile, then pecs, while the other's gaze fastened reverently

upon his muddy cock and stayed there. The cock itself reared proudly

outward, its head pulsing.

What followed was nightmarish for our modest young hero. The details

got murky, and in retrospect, he could never recall exactly how the

scene progressed. But within a few minutes, the security guard did

indeed arrive, elated at capturing what he gleefully presumed was the

peeping tom who had been reported twice in as many weeks in the

neighborhood. The whole thing clearly spelled "promotion" for him.

He pulled Jeff's wrists behind his back, wrapped plastic restrainers

around them, and pulled them a bit too tight.

Three or four people came out on the porch to stare down at the naked

culprit. Then he was marched around to the front of the house and

down the row toward the security office, which was in the community

building at the entrance. Jeff felt like a conquered barbarian being

paraded through the streets of Rome toward the Coliseum. On almost

every balcony, groups of home-owners of all ages and both sexes looked

down on him. Some gasped at the sight of his muddy, nude body. Some

actually jeered. The security guard strutted like Wyatt Earp.

When they arrived at the office, the guard went in to call the police,

but Red-cap spoke up. "They can't put him in the squad car like this,

he's a muddy mess. We better take him and hose him down, don't you

think?"

The guard hesitated. He didn't want anyone else to get credit for any

aspect of this bust. "Well, just go in that outdoor shower around the

side. He can't get out of there. And get him back here quick, before

the cops get here."

They turned Jeff and led him around the side of the building, and as

they did, he saw that a good thirty people had followed the procession

and now stood, gawking, at his every move. With his hands behind his

back, he had absolutely no cover for his genitals. He ducked his

head, flushing with embarrassment, but still feeling the gaze of

dozens of eyes on his privates. "God damn you," he muttered, not at

his guards, but at his foolhardy cock, which still acted like the

guest of honor at a celebrity roast. Except that it was drooling.

Once inside the shower, blue cap slammed the door and slid the bolt

across. Jeff looked around. They were in a sort of stockade, about

eight feet square, with a bench and wall hooks near the door, and two

shower heads on the opposite wall. There was an eighteen-inch opening

at the bottom, and a two-foot one at the top.

Blue tossed his cap aside and started taking off his boots.

"What….?" began Red.

"We're gonna have to wash him. That mud won't come off by itself, and

I ain't getting my clothes wet."

He slipped his socks off, dropped his shorts and his white BVD's, and

stepped out of them. Now he was as naked as Jeff. He had a pale,

moderately hairy butt, a luxuriant triangle of dark pubes, and a meaty

four-inch-limp cut cock hanging over hairy balls.

Red quickly followed suit. He shed shoes and socks, and then dropped

the jeans. He was free-balling, and he had pretty nice equipment for

it, a long uncut cock and extra large balls. His dark blonde pubes

were trimmed to about half-length.

Each man turned on a shower head and directed both of them to the

center. Then they grabbed Jeff's elbows and dragged him under the

flowing water. With cool water cascading onto his head and shoulders,

Jeff instinctively closed his eyes, but they popped open again when he

felt four strong hands running all over his lower body, wiping away

the film of dirt. ALL over his body. Jeff had never had a

four-handed massage before. It felt fantastic on his muscular thighs,

his calves. They even picked up and rubbed off his feet. Then they

came right up between his legs, invaded his butt-crack, swabbed his

ass cheeks and caressed his hips. His dick, incapable of getting any

harder, began to ache and throb for release. When Blue grabbed his

balls and Red began to stroke his cock and massage his pubes, he lost

all control. Knees trembling, Jeff began to shoot a gusher. Blast

after blast of thick cum shot out of his pulsating member and onto the

walls of the shower and the handles of the faucets. He let out a

long, low moan. It was one of the most incredible orgasms he had ever

had in his life, yet even that was also one of the most humiliating

experiences he had ever had. To lose his load over being manhandled

by two rough handymen—his eyes closed again in shame and rapture.

They popped back open. Water still flowing freely over his and their

bodies, now Jeff felt the unmistakable sensation of a wet mouth

clamped around his still-leaking cock. This was just too much. He

looked down to see the short-cropped head of Red moving up and down.

"You never had one that big, did you Bud?" asked Blue, grinning.

"Umph-umph," responded Red. He continued to plunge up and down, each

descent going a little lower. He gagged a few times. Jeff closed his

eyes again. Watching was just too much. In a few moments, he felt

lips around the very base of his cock, and his pubes. His cock head

was wrapped snugly in the kid's gullet. Young Red had succeeded in

swallowing the sausage.

"Don't make him cum, Ben, I want that," protested Blue.

Ben slid the full length of Jeff's cock wetly out of his mouth, and

Jeff immediately shot all over his smooth, tanned face. One.. two…up

to six heavy squirts of creamy man-milk shot in dollops over Ben's

cheeks. By the third shot, though, Ben had his open mouth ready to

catch a few blobs to taste.

"Sorry, Joe. Just too late, Buddy."

"Two in a row, and fast. What do you think, pervert, any chance you

got one more in there?"

Jeff knew well there was plenty left in those big nuts of his, but he

kept silent.

But Joe did not give up easily. "Well, we're just going to find out."

He turned to the side wall of the shower room and leaned into it,

planting his palms flat on the wall. He spread his feet wide,

presenting his muscular ass in Jeff's direction, the water running all

over it.

"Stick it to me, fucker."

Jeff's mouth opened and closed like a hooked fish. For a moment, he

was speechless. Joe brought one hand back to pull his cheeks apart,

and his pink asshole winked lasciviously. Jeff realized he had never

actually seen a man's asshole before.

"But...but I'm not gay!" he finally sputtered.

"So what, I ain't either," retorted Joe. "Nothin' wrong with liking

to get a big cock up your ass now and then. And I never had one like

that one of yours!"

"Well, I won't do it! There's no way I even could do that. I'm not

even gay!" Jeff stammered repetitively.

"You better talk that over with your cock, dude, `cause it says it's

raring to go!" Sure enough, the cock in question still swelled,

throbbed, and drooled.

"Hell, if I thought you WAS gay, I wouldn't let you bare-back me, now,

would I?"

Jeff just stared stupidly at the red asshole, dazed.

Joe half turned toward Jeff. "You want to go to jail, pretty-boy

stud-dog, or would you rather get out of here?"

Jeff was thunderstruck. "You mean you…."

"Only if you act like a good boy and give me what I want," answered

Joe. "Now get at it, Barney Fife will be hammering on that door in a

minute."

At that moment, Jeff gave up all resistance. Still in a sort of

stupor, he moved up behind Joe and aimed his big dick at Joe's wet

asshole. The head touched—he smeared his abundant pre-cum around--he

gave a push, and felt the head pop in—then he felt Joe's anal ring

relax, and he slid all the way in. His hips pressed against Joe's

firm buttocks, and his huge cock had completely disappeared inside

Joe's bowel.

Nobody had ever told Jeff that ass felt this good.

Joe sighed. So did Jeff. So did Ben, watching from the side with a

look of lust on his face, and now jacking his eight-incher. Without

thinking, Jeff began to hunch like a dog, first slowly and

deliberately, then faster and faster as the sensations of bliss began

to swell. Joe kind of whimpered like a bitch, too. Now Jeff could

feel the anal ring doing its work again, gripping his thick tool, then

relaxing as it slid in and out, in and out.

In his over-wrought state, he had even less climax control than usual.

Normally, when he had sex with a woman, he didn't worry about

premature ejaculation, because he could just keep on fucking his way

through two or even three ejaculations until his partner reached her

climax. Now, he wanted just to cum and go, more than ever in his

life. In just moments, he was clenching his beautiful ass muscles,

driving his pole full length into Joe's gut, and spewing yet another

huge load of nut butter deep inside his captor. Just then, he felt a

warm, wet splat on his thigh. Ben was unloading, too, all over Jeff's

leg.

Knees trembling, Jeff half-collapsed onto Joe's back, his dick still

impaling Joe's ass. He caught his breath to see Ben coming at him

with an open knife, which he had retrieved from a cut-off pocket.

Jeff gasped, thinking he was about to get his throat slit while his

dick was stuck up this stranger's hole. But in one motion, Ben

swiftly grabbed Jeff's hands, slit the plastic cuff instead, and

flipped the knife-blade shut.

"Better get moving," he said. "Next time we see you, it's my turn."

The blood flowing to Jeff's hands seemed to help his brain, too. He

came to his senses abruptly. He dropped to the floor, rolled out the

back of the shower room, and crouched on all fours, looking around.

He was behind some shrubbery in a corner of the building. He crept

out between the scratchy branches. Nobody in sight here, but voices

from the other side of the shower room. Then a banging sound.

"What are you guys doing in there anyway, get on out here before the

cops arrive," badgered the security guy.

"O. K., just finishing up." Then there was a long silence from within

the shower room as Jeff eased on off around the corner of the

building. As he began to pick up speed moving away from the area, he

heard loud shouting and more banging from Ben and Joe inside the room.

They were pretending that Jeff had attacked and overwhelmed him and

was just then getting away. They were pretty convincing actors, too.

Jeff shifted into high gear and high-tailed it through a weedy stretch

of sandy back lot and into a patch of scrub trees beyond. From behind

their protective branches, he paused a moment to peer back at the

building he had just fled.

People were milling around in every direction, all waving their arms,

pointing in various directions, and shouting. The security guard had

the hapless Ben, wet and still naked, by the arm and was yanking him

back and forth and shouting obscenities, while Ben tried

unsuccessfully to get a foot inside his shorts leg. Joe had his

shorts on, but was standing nose to nose with his crew chief, both

with hands on hips and both yelling into each other's faces. It

seemed the escape was not being taken very well by the other captors.

Jeff grudgingly admitted that he owed those two a big favor, not that

he hadn't given them each one already. That is, IF he managed to get

away without being apprehended again.

He eased off quietly through the brush, looking for a way out, a pair

of shorts, or a place to hide, whichever came first.

He was a fugitive. He had just had his dick sucked by a man for the

first time, and had actually fucked another man's ass. Boy, was that

ever a first! Sometime, as soon as he got out of this horrible

predicament, he had to do some serious thinking about that sex scene

back there. How could he, as straight as any arrow, have gotten so

much pleasure from sucking and fucking with those two guys? It was

pretty disturbing.

Yet, here he was still naked as a newborn.

And his bull-headed dick was still as hard as a rock.

III.

Jeff didn't spend long looking at his inflated cock. He knew that

within moments, a swarm of people were going to be combing the area

looking for his naked ass, and there wasn't much area to hide in here.

He crossed through the copse of low trees and bushes, and came to the

edge of the beach parking lot. Jake's Wrangler was out there

somewhere. Maybe it had a towel or tee shirt or something in it.

Using vehicles for cover, he edged his way around the lot, keeping

something between his midsection and the pedestrians passing through

at all times. He made it to within 10 cars of his goal, when he heard

multiple sirens heading his way fast. He looked back in the direction

of the sound. One set of blue lights was turning into the resort

community driveway, but two more kept coming toward his lot. The

Wrangler offered no shelter if it had no cover-up in it. But the next

vehicle to him was a pickup with a camper top on it. The window on

back was open. Without further consideration, he hopped inside and

settled soundlessly onto the truck bed. It was stifling hot in there.

One police cruiser cruised the lot. Jeff kept his head down

carefully. He wondered how long he would be able to last out here in

this heat, and what he would do if the owners returned while he was in

their truck.

Suddenly, he heard the driver's door open. He felt the sag of the

springs as someone slipped into the seat, then the door slammed. He

was totally visible through the rear cab window—what to do, bail out

or stay? Then he saw the other police car turn into his row, the

sunglasses of an officer gleaming behind the wheel. Quickly, Jeff

rolled to the front of the cab, underneath the window, just as he felt

the truck begin to lurch backwards.

There was a moment of sheer terror while the truck paused and its

driver, a male voice, talked with the officer. He made out that the

driver had not seen hide nor hair of a naked pervert running around

the lot, but would be on the lookout and blow his balls off with a

(licensed) handgun if provoked.

`How did I get into this mess?' Jeff's mind screamed. Now he

actually felt like a hunted criminal, even though he was really just a

hapless victim of circumstances. He knew he had to get out of this truck.

But first, he had some hanging on to do, and some sweating, as the

truck worked its way through traffic.

IV

For about fifteen minutes, Jeff lay, sweating, in the back of the

sweltering truck, quietly hoping and praying that the armed and

probably dangerous driver would not kill him when he noticed that he

was hiding there. The pick-up swayed, lurched, and bounced, and Jeff

bumped and slid painfully around the end of the bed.

Then, there was a turn, and he could tell they were entering a

parking lot. The pick-up slid into a space, the driver door opened

and slammed, and the man walked briskly away, paying no attention at

all to his camper unit. Jeff could hardly believe his luck. But he

had to get out of there! First, he was broiling. Second, the dude

was bound to find him soon. He crawled to the tailgate and peeked out.

Super Wal-Mart!

The parking lot was crowded, and he was near the center of it.

This was going to be dicey, but there was no choice.

He leaned out of the camper and looked around. Nobody in the

immediate area. Quickly, Jeff swung his leg through the window and

dropped lightly to the hot asphalt. He crouched for a moment. Now, he

was totally naked and on the loose in Walmart parking lot. Who would

ever have thought that this would happen to the shy and mild-mannered

Jeff!

He had to find: a) something to wear, and b) a sympathetic fool who

would get him back to Jake's Jeep, or home. He began to creep around,

car to car, constantly scanning in every direction and checking inside

each car to make sure he was not spotted. The searing pavement

scalded his bare feet, the rest of his skin glowed with embarrassed

apprehension, and his mindless, sex-obsessed dick swelled to hard-on

status with its own brand of mindless exhilaration.

Beside a lamp post, Jeff spied a small piece of white cloth. A dirty

sock. Would it be the difference between a misdemeanor and a felony

if he was apprehended? Desperate, he unrolled it and forced his big

dong and dangling testicles, loose in their sack because of the heat,

into the fabric. He probably looked more ridiculous, maybe even more

vulgar, than ever, but at least his most illegal parts were out of

view. The long, white tube hanging almost to his knees, he continued

to work his way around the lot. But he felt more fuckin' ridiculous

than ever.

Several times, he turned and backtracked because someone was

approaching. He particularly wanted to avoid women and families. At

one point, he glanced ahead and up. A security camera on the lamp

pole ahead pointed right at him. `It won't be long,' he thought,

`before the gendarmes arrive. Gotta get out of here fast.'

He slipped around the corner of a small panel van and ran smack into

Santa Claus, on vacation. At least, that is what the man looked like.

He was—well, you have the image, right down to the flowered shirt,

huge shorts, and sandals.

"Oh, my! Well, this IS my lucky day!"

So it turns out that, just as we have all long suspected, Santa IS

gay. He ogled Jeff's body avidly.

"Please... I'm so sorry…I wonder if you can help…Please excuse…" Jeff

stammered incoherently in his newly typical fashion

"Oh, you need not apologize to me! But why are you?….and why the

sock? And what are we going to do with you?" Santa was stammering a

bit too, in his excitement.

"Need pants! Please!"

Being on vacation, Santa had no bag of clothing in Jeff's size. In

fact, he had nothing with him to cover a naked man with. But he

quickly hustled the blushing Jeffrey into the passenger seat of his

van, his hand caressing Jeff's butt quite unnecessarily, and soon

joined him behind the wheel. In short order, it was agreed that he

would take Jeff back to the Wrangler in the beach parking lot. Jeff

glanced toward the store entrance and saw three uniformed guards

striding their way. Over to his right, there was a middle-aged woman

holding a couple of young children tightly and pointing his way,

yelling something. He groaned. Santa threw the vehicle in gear, and

set out, but at a much more sedate speed than Jeff had experienced in

other trips that day. For once, he preferred Jake's driving.

While Jeff tried to be invisible, Santa chatted loquaciously. It

wasn't long before his plump little hand began to pat, then fondle,

Jeff's knee. Twice, Jeff removed the hand, but it did no good. It

only returned at a higher level on his muscular thigh. Jeff sighed

and surrendered. It looked like he was going to get groped, but what

was the alternative? He hardly noticed when the dirty sock sailed out

the window. He had to get back to Jake, and he had no other means.

Bailing out naked on the side of this busy highway did not seem to be

a viable alternative.

"Naked Man Beats Up Helpful Santa Claus" read the headline in his

mind. No, that wouldn't do.

By now, the hand was fondling his balls, and Santa was cooing

happily. He began a long monologue on the aesthetic delights of

Jeff's entire body, in great detail. In a way, Jeff had to feel

flattered. After all, he secretly felt the same way about his body

and often got off on his own reflection in the mirror. But this was a

heavy, old GUY!

His cock was, as usual, not helping at all. It was brick red and

brick hard, and drooling with pleasure.

What does this mean? Jeff pondered. This geezer is feeling me up,

and I act like I ENJOY it? And those guys back at the resort—damn! I

have to admit, that scene turned me on big time. I got off on fucking

a guy's ass, and being sucked by one. Holy shit! He lay his head

back and closed his eyes.

This realization was almost as scary as running around town naked.

But it was also just as much a fact.

There was no time for deep thinking. By now, Jeff was doing some

deep panting. Santa was jacking his cock strenuously, and the precum

was oozing abundantly all over his fingers. Then, the payoff!—cum

began to fly all over the dash, the windshield, Jeff's thighs. Santa

oo'ed and ah'd like a kid at a fireworks show. The man's approach to

sex was a simple, childish excitement and joy you could hardly take

offense at. And it did at least help relieve Jeff's tension.

Jeff's driver was still mopping up with his third Kleenex as they

turned back into the beach parking lot again. The cop car was parked

over on the front edge of the lot, but it was empty. Jeff couldn't go

onto the beach without cover anyway. He hesitated. Santa had

fulfilled his bargain, and he couldn't hold the guy here forever.

Besides, the man was now caressing Jeff's left pectoral and nipple,

and his mouth seemed to be getting closer. He gave directions to find

the Wrangler, and Santa pulled up behind it.

Jeff thanked his rescuer and swung carefully out of the panel-van.

Santa, reluctantly it seemed, pulled away, and Jeff was left exposed

once again in the parking lot. Then, all at once, he saw his old

nemeses the resort security guard and the crew chief come out of the

wooded copse from the resort. They saw him immediately, and started

yelling. At the same time, his head spinning around in search of an

escape route, he saw Jake coming over the rise of the low dune from

the public beach area.

"JAKE!" he screamed.

Jake saw him, all right. He did a dramatic double take, glanced back

at something on the beach behind him—most likely the cop—over at the

two shouting bounty hunters, and set out at breakneck speed toward the

Wrangler. He still wore nothing but those short shorts, himself, and

he was empty-handed. But in those shorts' pocket was the key to the

Wrangler. Both men leaped inside, Jake cranked the engine, and they

roared from the parking lot in Jake's inimitable driving style. Jeff

looked over his shoulder: the two alarm-raisers and a dozen other

beach-goers, along with the uniformed officer, now gathered where the

Jeep had been, arms waving.

Jake took a series of turns and side streets for a while before

finally connecting with the highway. While they zigged and zagged, he

filled Jeff in on what had been happening back at the beach.

When Jake returned from searching for Jeff in the wrong direction, he

saw a pre-teen boy come out of the waves with a pair of shorts.

Jeff's shorts. He got several guys to help him search the surf for

Jeff, but they found nothing. Jake was perplexed and starting to get

worried.

Then the three babes came back, tittering and giggling so loudly

about the naked stud that had run into them on the boardwalk that the

whole beach soon knew all about it. A kid swore he had seen a naked

man run from the water a while earlier. His mom confirmed it. Jake

was beginning to get the picture.

Then the policeman came down, questioning the beachgoers about the

escaped pervert. People were getting excited now. A real, live sex

criminal was running amok all around them. Jake tried to explain to

the officer that he suspected the poor slob was just streaking around

because he had lost his swim shorts. The officer seemed disappointed

and reluctant to accept that possibility.

But in the process, Jake had gotten the names and phone numbers of

all three babes. He promised to report to them what he found out

about the case, and the status of his missing friend, whom they now

remembered from the highway incident.

"And to think, he had his body pressed right up against mine," cooed

the bosomy brunette. "He seemed pretty excited!"

Jake didn't know yet that his buddy Jeffrey is ALWAYS pretty excited.

Since he had determined that Jeff had last been seen heading for the

parking lot, Jake was going out to the Jeep to see if Jeff might be

hiding under it at the time he heard Jeff's desperate scream and saw

his naked friend beside the vehicle.

So now they headed in the direction of home. Their beach gear was

still on the beach, but they could not go back for it now. With the

one pair of skimpy shorts between the two of them, there was nothing

to be done yet about Jeff's nakedness. And the open Jeep offered

precious little in the way of protection from passing vehicles. Jeff

crossed his right leg over his left knee and let his genitals drop

down to the seat, trying to at least hide the jewels. They passed car

after car speeding down the highway. How many noticed the naked man

in the passenger seat? Jeff had no way of knowing. His embarrassment

deepened. This had been the most nightmarish day of his entire life.

He looked over at Jake to find his friend's eyes fastened upon his

groin, a satisfied smile on his lips.

"Eyes on the road, Buster," Jeff groaned. Jake just grinned.

Jeff tilted his seat back a couple of notches, and lay back. After

such a stressful day, he was utterly exhausted. He glanced at the

Jeep dash clock. Six o'clock. He had been running around naked since

11:00.

A deep truck horn sounded next to him, startling him into swinging

his leg around and freeing his dick and balls. He looked up. A

hot-looking young trucker beamed down at him, his mustached, dark face

erupting in a huge smile. He was shirtless, too. He made an

up-and-down motion with his fist.

"What's that about?"

"He wants you to jack off for him."

Jeff was dumb-struck. He had never even heard of such a thing. The

very idea of jacking off for a trucker on the interstate highway in

broad daylight was shocking and disturbing to him.

Not to his dick, though. It went rigid into bonermus maximus state,

and there was no hiding it. Jake stared now even more brazenly.

"Shit, man, jack it," he said.

Jeff looked back up at the grinning driver. Suddenly, a dick as big

and as hard as his own thrust up into view in the open truck window.

Damnation! That dude was driving naked too! The driver jacked on it

with his left hand while he steered with his right.

What the hell. Jeff had no modesty left, for it had all been

stripped from him, for the day at least. He began to jack on his

steely rod.

Just as he was about to blow yet another huge load, Jeff heard a kind

of exuberant, primal yell pour forth from Jake beside him. He looked

over in time to see Jake's shorts, which he had slipped off while Jeff

was in the throes of masturbatory bliss, being thrown up into the air

like an Annapolis graduation cap—then being whisked away by the racing

wind. Now Jake was naked too, and neither man had any way to cover!

Splat! Jeff's semen hit the dash, then the windshield, then the

radio dial. His eyes closed for a moment. He opened them just in

time to see a similar fountain erupt from his trucker buddy above him.

Over to his left, Jake was working on a swollen organ—and holy shit!

It was almost as big as Jeff's and the trucker's! And thick!

It only took Jake a few moments to catch up. Soon his jizz also shot

all over the steering wheel and dashboard. The driver next door gave

a happy `hoot!' on his horn, then sped away, leaving the two spent

Jeepers in his draft.

A subdued Jake retreated to the slow lane.

"Well, shit, now I got all excited and threw away my pants," he

lamented. "And I liked those pants—best ones I had for showing off

the package." Jeff had to agree they were good for that purpose.

Jake started to fish around in the glove compartment, pulling out the

cell phone he had stuck in there earlier in the day.

"Lucky I have a head for numbers," as he punched one in.

Jeff heard him, in a flirtatious voice, asking someone to pick up

their stuff from the beach. Well that was good, at least it wouldn't

be washed away by the high tide. He didn't have time to dwell on it,

however. Beyond Jake, he could see a passing Greyhound bus, and Jeff

was looking up into the eyes of a dozen or more passengers, noses

pressed to windows, staring and grinning down at his and Jake's naked

bodies. Jake chatted, unaware that a range of admirers from

grandmothers to teens was looking right down into his studly lap.

Jeff groaned yet again and turned away.

It was more of the same for the next hour. Honking horns, cat-calls,

jerk-off signs, shaking fists. Another hundred eager spectators saw

him naked by the time they reached their exit. He even saw a couple

of spectators taking photographs. And all the while, his wayward dick

soared into the flowing breeze like a flagpole.

EPILOGUE

Jeff glanced over at the clock beside his bed. Three-thirty a.m. on

Sunday morning. He stretched his naked body. The muscles were sore,

and he felt a little bit of sunburn on his butt, yet he felt fine. It

had been the most incredible day.

Parts, of course, were not what he would have chosen. He still

blushed at the thought of how many people had seen him naked and hard

that day. He wondered if anyone from work had been among the

onlookers anywhere that he had been displayed. If one of those photos

got posted on the Internet, it would only be a matter of time before

it showed up on the office bulletin board.

Still, he had to admit it had been a fabulous day sexually. He

didn't know when he had ejaculated so much, and for him that was

really saying something. He smiled, thinking of how the day had ended.

When Jake had pulled up in his driveway, he had hopped out with Jeff,

and the two scurried nude to the door. But of course Jeff had no key.

They had to streak around back and find the one Jeff kept hidden back

there, and in the process, they were seen by neighbors on the side and

the back. Jake laughed it off, but Jeff was mortified.

Once they were safely inside, Jeff offered Jake something to wear to

travel home in. "Home? Didn't you hear me on the phone? I'm staying

right here! The girls will be here in half an hour!"

And so they were.

It was Jake who went to the door, buck naked, to let them in. They

giggled and stared. Jake strutted around proudly, flaunting his toned

body and his equipment, while Jeff blushed and crossed his legs a lot.

The girls, it turns out, were far from offended at Jeff's little

streaking exhibition earlier in the day. In fact, it had been the

most exciting thing they had had happen in a long time, and they had

talked of little else all afternoon. When Jake had called on the cell

phone, while Jeff was distracted by the bus, the girls had offered to

deliver the guys' beach stuff in person—provided that both men would

be naked when they got there. And they hinted that they might be

persuaded to dress the same.

After an hour, the last of them (the skinny brunette) was naked, too.

Jeff and Jake sprawled on opposite ends of Jeff's long, curving sofa,

and the girls rotated around between them, one on one and two on one,

then shift, making out with both equally. It was a new experience for

Jeff; he'd had a m-f-f threesome before, but this was the first time

with three girls, or with another naked guy involved. Jake was so

relaxed about it, and having such a great time with that big grin of

his, and his big gun, that Jeff almost began to relax.

Then they all adjourned to Jake's queen size bed, and he fervently

wished he had sprung for the king-size. It was close, but they all

piled in.

Now he grinned again, remembering the dozens of combinations of

sexual positions they had all enjoyed. Both he and Jake had had all

three girls, and the girls had worked on each other, too. It was

incredibly hot to watch Jenny, the busty blonde, go down on Jake's

huge cock, and the other two girls lapping at each other's clits,

while he himself slid his big dick in and out of Jenny's wet vagina,

already slippery with both his and Jake's abundant semen.

He came seven more times before the girls left at 1:00!

Yet amazingly, his dick was getting hard again.

He smiled wickedly. He knew he had at least one more load left in

those capacious balls of his. It might take a while to work it out of

them, though. All he needed was the right receptacle, warm, smooth,

and tight.

He rolled over onto his side and flung his arm across the bare

shoulder of Jake, who slumbered beside him. He scrunched up against

his buddy's muscular, naked backside. Jake shifted a bit, entering

consciousness.

Jeff's big cock slid against Jake's smooth crack, then slid back and

forth a few times. Wordlessly, Jake lifted his leg, offering his ass

to his friend.

Jeff's boner slipped inside, and both men sighed as Jeff embraced

Jake closer. He began to flex his hips. Jake moaned with pleasure.

Yes, Saturday had been, in retrospect, one hell of a significant day.

And Sunday was shaping up to be no slouch as well.