Jeffrey's Naked Adventures Part 2 Jetski Nudeski

JEFFREY'S NAKED ADVENTURES  EPISODE 2: JET-SKI NUDESKI

Jeff was just dozing off, lying on his back on the chaise, stark

naked in the warm sun of his fenced back yard. He'd just finished his

morning run, a quick outdoor shower, and a soak in the hot tub, when

Jake burst through the gate of the enclosure without so much as a

knock or a warning call. Jeff opened his eyes to see his friend

looming over him, casting his face and upper body in shadow, and

clearly ogling his middle body through his dark glasses. It wasn't as

if Jake had not seen him naked before. Jeff's humiliating experience

at the beach and afterward had taken place only two weeks earlier, and

Jake had gotten his eyes full of Jeff's spectacular physique that day

and night. Still, having Jake stand over him leering and grinning in

such open admiration was unsettling to the modest Jeffrey. Besides,

any attention at all always made Jeff's cock get hard, as it was

already beginning to do under Jake's appreciative gaze. He scowled.

"What?" he growled.

"Great news!"

"Well, don't look at me, asshole, it creeps me out! I don't stare at

YOUR crotch when you're naked!"

"No, you don't. And why not, I want to know! I'm not that hard on

the eyes, you know, Pretty-boy, and I have a damn nice cock, if I have

to say so myself."

It was true. As drop-dead gorgeous as Jeff is, Jake is not far

behind him in the looks department. Six feet tall and red-haired,

Jake has a beefy Rugby-player physique, but hardly two fat-cells to

rub together anywhere on his body. And his equally beefy,

eight-and-a-half-inch boner is perfectly proportioned and perfectly

mouth-watering.

"So, what's the news?"

"We're getting jet-skis!"

Now Jeff almost forgot to worry about the 10-inch hard-on he was

unwillingly waving in front of his buddy.

"What do you mean, `we'?"

Jake refused hear any excuses. He had always wanted a jet-ski, he

declared. But what good is it to have one all by yourself? You have

to have a friend who has one, too, so you have someone to ride with.

He had stumbled across a guy who had two nice, almost new ones he

wanted to sell. But they had to act fast, as the price was good, and

these babies would not stay on the market long. They had permission

to try them out on the lake, but it had to be today—in fact it had to

be RIGHT NOW! By nightfall, if all went well, the two friends would

have their Jet-skis, on their double trailer, parked beside Jeff's

driveway, ready to be towed away behind Jake's Wrangler for fun times

with babes at a moment's notice.

Jake's boyish excitement and eternal optimism did make it all sound

like a great idea. Jeff knew he could afford the machine, and he

could imagine him and Jake having a lot of fun together with them.

But still, there was that one guilty scene left unresolved in his

mind. Two weeks ago, in the early hours of a Sunday morning, after

spending several hours sharing three hot girls in a fantasy fuck

session with Jake, Jeff had thrust his big cock up his friend's ass

and just about fucked his lights out. After a record number of

ejaculations during that day, even for the sexually inexhaustible

Jeffrey, it had taken him almost half an hour of heavy, sweaty

thrusting to get that final load off, deep inside Jake's ass. Yet

Jake had seemingly loved every minute of it, if his sighs and moans

were any indication, not to mention the final cum-load that had been

battered out of his own quivering body, accompanied by much ecstatic

groaning, at the height of the hammering.

The two had been together at work every weekday since, and they had

played tennis twice and gone running together at least four times.

Neither of them, however, had said a word about the ass-fucking

episode. It was as if it had never taken place. But Jeff was

troubled, because he knew it HAD taken place, and he didn't know quite

what it meant—about Jake, about himself, or about the relationship

they would have in the future.

He knew that Jake was every bit as horny for pussy as he was himself,

and that he participated in straight fucking with a joyful and

uninhibited abandonment, as Jeff had seen for himself. How, then,

could he so eagerly welcome a stiff rod like Jeff's up his muscular,

masculine ass?

Jake's contagious enthusiasm wore at his defenses, though.

"As you may recall, I don't have a swimsuit," he protested weakly.

His suit had been lost in the surf on the infamous beach trip, and

though a kid had later found it, Jake had neglected to get possession

of it because at the time he was more concerned about what had

happened to the body that had once been in it.

"Wear these running shorts, then," responded Jake, picking up the

still sweaty white shorts Jeff had just finished running in half an

hour before.

Looking more closely at Jake now for the first time, Jeff noticed

that Jake himself was wearing similar very short running shorts,

yellow nylon with open sides. The built-in briefs had been cut out so

that Jake's substantial male equipment could hang free, and sure

enough, from his vantage point, Jeff could see the pink head of Jake's

cock dangling just inside the hemline. It was embarrassing sometimes

to run with this dude, because it was not unusual for his long dong to

hang free of the shorts leg and slap back and forth from thigh to

thigh as they ran through the park. Jake stretching his muscles

before and after exercise was a sight to behold! In fact, outside of

work, Jake never seemed to wear much. As hard as Jeff worked to keep

his goodies under wraps, Jake was equally unconcerned about having his

own tempting package on public view. At least today he had on a tee

shirt.

Worn down, Jeff relented and slipped into his shorts, tee, and flops.

He grabbed his wallet and check-book, just in case, and off the two

roared in Jake's careening Wrangler.

Jeff blushed, thinking of the last time he had ridden in the Jeep

with Jake. They had driven home from the beach catastrophe jaybird

naked, and both men had jacked off with a muscular young trucker, not

to mention being viewed naked by dozens of fellow travelers on the

highway. In retrospect, it was excruciatingly embarrassing for Jeff.

How could he have been so brazen? Jake thought the whole thing was a

blast!

Today, they were dressed, and though they attracted more stares and

comments in other vehicles than Jeff, mercifully, was aware of,

especially with the front of Jake's shorts flapping in the wind and

hanging totally open in the sides, they soon arrived at the marina

where the Jet-skis were to be checked out. After a few minutes'

instruction from the owner, a thirty-ish blonde fellow with a deep tan

and sparkling blue eyes who seemed to need to get his hands all over

both Jeff and Jake in order to show them the ins and outs of the

machines, life preservers were passed out, and the two set off on

their test drive.

From the beginning, the ride was exhilarating. It was a perfect,

sun-washed, cloudless day, almost 11:00 by now, as they set out across

the lake in tandem. Both men, being novices, began by being pretty

conservative in their driving. But both, being young, daring, and

physically active, very quickly got the hang of their machines and

were soon doing more complicated maneuvers, causing spray to wash over

themselves and each other, whooping with young animal joy.

In the process, two rather predictable things happened. First,

Jake's yellow shorts, which were hardly more than a loin cloth to

begin with and to which he was oblivious, became whipped by the wind

into little more than a string around his waist, with his fully

equipped male package hanging out in sun and spray. Second, Jeff's

white shorts virtually disappeared.

To this development, Jeff was decidedly NOT oblivious. Looking down,

he could see that, at the sides, his wet shorts were cellophane. His

tanned hips shone through as if they were as bare as Jake's. In the

crotch, there was at least the mercy of an inner bikini lining, but a

very small mercy it was, both in size and effectiveness.

Perhaps we should note that THREE rather predictable things happened,

the third being that, under the stimulation of the wind, spray, and

sun, and the tension Jeff felt at being so suddenly and unpreparedly

revealed, his dick plumped up like the airbag of a Volvo in a head-on

collision. No bikini lining of mere nylon could begin to hold this

monster boner. The flaring, swollen head popped right out the leg,

followed by several inches of hard, thick cock-shaft, and waved in the

breeze across Jeff's well-muscled thigh.

Thus far, they had been alone on the water. Now, however, the two

jet-skiers were entering the main channel of the lake, and they began

to pass and be passed by boaters. Some were fishermen in caps or

tacky hats, staring at the nearly-naked men sternly and disapprovingly

from behind dark glasses. Jeff saw more than one set of binoculars

rising to eyes, double-checking the vision to see if the apparent

nakedness of these riders was an illusion. Many of the boats

contained sight-seers and party groups, however, and these the guys

provided with impressive sights to see. Girls stood and waved as

their boyfriends glowered behind tillers and dark glasses of their

own. Jake whooped and waved back, as Jeff put his head down and

plowed on. Several times, they passed pontoon boats, one laden with a

whole family from grandma to babes in arms. They lined the rail of

their boat gawking, making Jeff's entire body turn from tan to crimson

and causing his skin tones to shine even more vividly through his

sheer shorts. Another very large one had a big banner across the top,

"Alpha Chi Omega." It was filled with bikini-clad sorority girls and

pledges on an outing. They almost flipped their boat by rushing en

masse to the side the jet-skis were passing, squealing and hooting at

the guys. Again, Jake was thrilled. He waved and shouted something

unintelligible, as Jeff just tried to look as invisible as his shorts.

His boner, however, was far from invisible, sticking straight up like

a flagpole out of his hiked-up shorts leg. Much of the hooting was

directed at it.

A hundred yards beyond the sorority girls, Jeff was vainly trying to

signal Jake to turn back and get them out of this embarrassing display

of male genitalia, when a ski-boat suddenly cut across in front of

him, leaving him nowhere to go. He swerved, hit a big wake, flipped

over his handle-bars, and rolled into the water, feet flailing, the

ski stalling beside the point where he fell. The blow of hitting the

water swept the loose and waterlogged, useless shorts right over his

hips and off his feet. The fall must have stripped all the air out of

them as well, because they sank like a diving bell, leaving poor

modest Jeffrey once again naked in the water. He tried to dive after

his shorts, but the life jacket he wore prevented him from getting

anywhere near where they were continuing to sink. Finally, disgusted,

he hung in the water, pondering his fate, suspended by the floatation

device, the water gently caressing his responsive dick and balls.

At least this time Jake was nearby and soon to be aware of his

predicament. Jeff could see him circling around to check him out, as

the ski boat skimmed across the lake far away. In a moment, Jake

buzzed up beside him and cut his motor.

And how did his handsome buddy respond to Jeff's confession of his

shorts-less condition? He bellowed with laughter, of course!

"Again? God damn, dude! You just can't keep pants on, can you,

Beef-cakes?"

So here we go again. Jake was far from having textile to spare for

his friend. They were now several miles from the marina. And even

when they got there, there were still no spare shorts for Jeff, and

the open Jeep to ride home in, just as before.

And neither of them had brought so much as a towel.

So there was nothing for it but for Jeff to climb back aboard his

tossing jet-ski and drive it back, this time actually rather than just

apparently, naked as Adam in the Garden.

II.

Jeff struggled up onto the seat of his jet-ski, which was supposed to

hold three passengers, though they would have to be very close

personal friends. He turned to head back toward the marina and set

off at a fast clip, all seriousness now that he felt the strong need

to get his naked body under some kind of cover. Jake kept pace

alongside, but about five yards to his port side.

Of course, they now had to pass all the same boats they had passed on

the way out, and it was excruciating for Jeff. Glancing over to see

Jake's dazzling teeth exposed in a huge, happy grin did not help any,

nor did seeing Jake's cock flopping against his thigh, because Jeff

knew that Jake couldn't care less.

The fishermen were even less amused with the guys on this pass, since

clearly, the white shorts were now goners. Jeff winced to see hands

shading eyes for a better look on several pontoon boats. But in just

moments, they neared the large pontoon boat with the sorority girls on

board. They had seen the men heading back their way, and they were

ready, lining the rail and already beginning to wave.

Did Jake, shameless flirt that he is, stray closer to the boat so

that he could see the girls better, or was he deliberately trying to

force his naked bud closer in to the crowd of girls? Perhaps we will

never know, but he did, in fact, put the squeeze on Jeff's space, so

that, in order to avoid collision, Jeff had to angle closer and closer

to the side of the pontoon. Finally, it looked as if he were going to

be forced into the boat itself. At the last moment, Jeff decided to

swerve behind the boat and pass on the other side, safely out of

Jake's way. But he was not yet expert enough at controlling the new

jet-ski for this kind of swerving. Consequently, he hit the wake of

the pontoon boat at an off-angle, wallowed into the trough with the

nose of his ski, and once again did a brilliant, spread-eagle full

front flip over the handlebars as his jet-ski stalled to an abrupt

halt. He flew like a trapeze artist through the air, the girls

gasping and squealing. It only lasted two seconds. But the image of

the magnificent flying naked stud of a man, muscles flexing and cock

waving, was long emblazoned in the memory of those young university women!

This time, Jeff hit the water hard, so hard that the life jacket

fasteners popped right away from his swelling chest. He was dazed a

bit by the impact, not enough to be in any real danger of drowning,

but enough to set off a frenzy of panic on the pontoon boat. Before

Jeff managed to do much more than lift his water-logged eyes from the

lake, just over half of the girls had jumped off the boat to rescue

him. In seconds, the water churned with flailing female arms and legs

as they vied to be the first to get to him and lay their hands on him.

Jeff tried to explain he didn't need rescuing, but water ran into his

mouth every time he opened it, from all the splashing. In the end,

some fifteen girls laid claim to some part of his body and towed him

to their boat, flat on his back and raised to the surface of the

water, completely exposed to all of them and even more so to the

remainder who crowded around the rail ready to drag the cute naked

accident victim aboard.

Yes, he could technically have fought his way free, but our Jeffry,

shy and modest as he may be, is also a gentleman. A horny fucker and

a gentleman.

"Girls, I don't…I'm really fine, I'm not…Just let me…back to

my…please don't…don't…ooooh, wait a sec, don't…now, girls,

really…ahem…" he babbled and bubbled. This guy just cannot put

together a sentence when he is caught naked in a public place. By

this time, the amount of blood engorging Jeff's maximized cock would

have made a weaker man pass out. It soared past his belly button,

rising and falling against his stomach as the ripples of water swept

over him. Whoever would have thought she would need to put her hand

around his cock in order to save him from drowning?

With willing assistance from those aboard, the girls hauled Jeff's

185 lbs. of man muscle onto the deck with surprising ease, then all

scrambled aboard to finish saving his life. They stroked and

resuscitated every single part of his body.

"I know CPR!" one squealed.

"Does he need mouth to mouth?" another offered hopefully.

The rest just groped and stroked.

Now, we all know where this is leading, and very quickly. Jeff never

could hold his man-liquor.

"Aaagh! Please….don't…… ahhhhhhhhh…. No, girls, shit, this is too….."

Too late. Huge spurts of Jeff-juice began firing out of his swollen

heavenly howitzer like wet missiles. The first landed on his left

eyebrow and hung there until one of the girls, a shapely and pert

red-head, leaned down and sucked it off. Other dollops were on his

chest and bicep—other girls quickly followed the example set and

slurped them all up, leaving damp lip-stick stains all over his upper

body. Jeff tried to raise himself up, but they pushed him back down.

Hands continued to massage Jeff's body all over at once. He felt as

if he had fallen into some kind of insane rub-down machine. He

continued to babble occasionally, as he could catch some breath to do so.

"Oh, wait, now girls, let's… ngahhh….oh, don't touch

that…..oooooooh….now, look here…pleeeeeeaaaasssseee, you're going to

make me…… Oh, shit."

He came again. All over his stomach and several girls' hands. But

this time, most removed their hands to lick the cum off, and Jeff

seized his chance. Struggling clumsily, but extremely sexily, he

managed to get to his feet. Looming over the girls who still knelt

beside those beautiful manly feet and legs they had just been

fondling, his low-hanging balls swinging, his dripping cock flopping

with his effort, Jeff finally found his voice.

"I'm fine. Thanks for the help, but this is too embarrassing. I

have to go now. But thanks, girls."

Looking about for an escape route, past the sulking and disappointed

sorority girls, most of whom now began to rise and mill about on the

deck, Jeff's eyes fell on the one other male aboard, the driver. He

was probably a frat guy, probably the boy friend of one of those very

girls who had been fondling Jeff's delicate parts right in front of

him, and he was definitely feeling jealous and disgusted. He had

every reason. At Jeff's height, six feet two, he was quite the

physical specimen. But he had the hulky build of a football lineman,

with a strong, but bowed-out gut. He was shirtless and

smooth-chested, wearing only knee-length cargo pants which made him

look like he was all torso and no legs. Formerly the studly escort

for over 30 nubile young college girls, next to glamorous Jeff, he

just looked big and ordinary and clumsy. His day was not going as he

had planned it. He glowered at our hero. But beside him at the

stern, there was a break in the rail of the boat. Jeff made for it,

brushing past two or three of the girls, and dived smoothly into the lake.

"Ooh," and "Wow," the girls crooned.

Jeff surfaced ten yards out and swam strongly toward his drifting

jet-ski. By this time, he noticed Jake. His friend and

dignity-assassin had circled around and drawn up near Jeff's ski. His

little yellow "shorts" still hung like flaps, and his goodies still

hung out, mercifully somewhat shrunken now, however, by the water. He

didn't go unnoticed by the girls.

"Oooh, look, there's the other one!" Squeals and giggles, calls for

the guys' names and phone numbers, pleading for them to come back to

the boat. As Jeff scrambled back up onto his jet-ski, much more

gracefully this time, he would have sworn he heard that fool Jake

calling out both their names and phone numbers, and several of the

girls seemed to be digging in their bags and writing something down.

He groaned dismally. Who would want to call a blushing, naked,

clumsy idiot like himself, he wondered. Answer: over thirty cute

sorority girls, that's who. And they would all be calling the

grinning hunk Jake, too.

He revved up his jet and began to skim away over the lake, Jake

following. But first, he gave Jake a glare.

"This time, stay the fuck out of my way, Jake."

Jake just grinned, and gave a final wave back toward the pontoon.

III

After all that, the rest of the trip back to the marina seemed

relatively tame to Jeff. Of course, he had to pass all the same

runabouts, pontoons, and fishing boats he had gone by earlier when he

had something on, even if it was invisible. Now, it didn't take

binoculars to tell that he was riding his jet-ski jaybird naked—but

several people broke out their binoculars anyway, just to make very

sure. His cock was temporarily half-way subdued now, in that it just

lay across his thigh rather than poking straight up in the air.

As the two men approached the marina, they could see the owner of the

jet-skis coming down to meet them. He had on a khaki cap and shorts,

and he had shed his own shirt. As a matter of fact, he was a pretty

good-looking fellow, Jeff now observed, fit and well-built, about

five-ten and one-sixty-five.

No time to think about that, though. Here was Jeff, driving up on

the guy's for-sale jet-ski, with his bare ass on the seat and his dick

dangling. Jeff o longer had any interest in making a purchase of

recreational equipment. He just wanted to get the hell home, as fast

and as inconspicuously as possible. He and Jake both hopped off their

water-bikes and pulled them into the shallows as the owner looked on.

"Uh—what happened to your shorts?" he asked with a chuckle in his voice.

Jeff, normally the best-natured of men, was not in one of his more

pleasant humors this morning.

"Long story," he snapped. "Look, obviously I have to get out of here

as quickly as possible."

"How'd the skis do?"

"Great! We love `em," this from Jake.

Jeff glared at his friend. "I wiped out twice. With help," he

inserted. "I'm not so sure this is for me."

"Oh, sure it is! You're just learning, that's all." Jake was not

about to let his future fun on the lake be jeopardized. He fell right

into negotiating on the price of the package deal, completely ignoring

Jeff's reluctance. Ed, the owner, was hardly paying attention. He

was staring at Jeff's body, especially his cock. Under the

appreciative gaze, said cock was beginning to thicken provocatively.

Jake masterfully haggled the price of the skis downward, as Jeff's

dick expanded upward. Jeff shifted his bare feet awkwardly. This was

a fairly busy place, and they weren't going to have the waterfront to

themselves for long. In fact, he saw a car pulling into the lot now.

"Look, could we take this someplace else, more private?"

Ed beamed at that suggestion. In fact, it seemed right in line with

his own thinking. Quickly, he led the guys to his small office in a

little hut off to the side of the lot. It seemed he owned the

marina, too.

"Look, guys, I like you two, and I want you to have these things.

I'm making quite a sacrifice here for you on the price." He waved off

Jake's protest. "Yes, but I'm prepared to do even better for you. I

just need one little favor from you. You know, you both are very

attractive men. Very attractive!"

Jeff's heart sank. He knew what was coming.

"I'm married, you know, don't mess around much. But every once in a

while, you know….well, here it is: you fuck my ass (nodding at Jeff)

and you fuck my throat (nodding at Jake), and I'll knock off another

hundred each."

"No way," said Jeff.

"A hundred?" grinned Jake.

"I don't fuck ass," declared Jeff.

"The hell you don't," reminded Jake.

Jeff blushed deeply. This was the first time Jake had mentioned it.

He sighed.

"Well, let's get it over with."

Off came Ed's cargo shorts and tightie whities. Off came Jake's

skimpy shorts. Ed "just happened" to have a tube of KY jelly in his

desk drawer. He smeared some behind him and laid his torso across his

desk. Jake sidled up to the far side, his rising member aiming for

Ed's willing mouth. Jeff eyed his own target dubiously. Ed's ass

cheeks were round and firm, coated with a sprinkling of golden hair,

deepening and darkening toward the crack. His ass was stark white in

comparison to his deeply tanned back and legs. His posture, legs

spread, caused the cheeks to spread open somewhat, revealing a small,

brownish puckered rosebud, moistened with the jelly. Jeff was already

quite hard. He pressed the head of his dick against the brown

wrinkle. It responded by opening for him. He pushed, and the head of

his dick disappeared inside. It felt warm and soft. He pushed a bit

more, and more of his thick meat slid inside.

"Ummph," said Ed around Jake's dick, now fully expanded.

Jeff eased off a bit, just toggling gently in and out, while Ed

acclimated to the intrusion. Gradually, he increased depth and tempo.

According to the sounds he was making, Ed appreciated it. Jake was

increasing depth and tempo, too, fucking Ed's face. Leaning forward,

Jeff and Jake joined their arms and leaned into one another,

supporting each other's weight as their hips ground into Ed's orfices.

Slurp, slurp, slurp. Plop, plop, plop.

Jeff's big balls slapped at Ed's on each thrust. Jake's big balls

slapped his chin. Jake grinned. Soon enough, Jeff began to smile a

bit as well.

`And a hundred dollars, too,' he mused.

He fucked Ed for about ten minutes before he felt the sap beginning

to rise within him. "Soon," he told Jake.

"I'm with you," Jake responded.

There was no mistaking the actual cum event, as both men groaned and

winced loudly with the pleasure of ejaculation. Jake's abundant cum

oozed out of the edges of Ed's mouth. Jeff rammed his deep inside

Ed's ass. Still grasping each other's biceps, Jeff and Jake also

rested their heads against one another in the aftermath of their

ejaculation.

"Damn, I needed that!" said Jake. He was two behind Jeff already

because of missing out on the action on the pontoon boat. Jeff just

sighed deeply.

Ed was bathed in sweat, some of which was actually his, and collapsed

on his desk, eyes closed, a weak smile on his face. Jeff withdrew his

slimy serpent from its hole with a wet plop. He still had nothing to

cover it with.

In a few minutes, Ed revived to fill out transfer papers for the

guys, and they wrote checks for their new fuck-buddy. Jake went out,

since he was the one with a semblance of clothing to put on, to hitch

the trailer to the Wrangler. Then Ed joined him to load the jet-skis

onto the trailer. Jeff hid in the office until, finally deciding the

coast was clear down by the dock, he jogged out to help in the final

lashings so that he and Jake could get on the road to home and clothing.

Naturally, as fate would have it, a church van pulled into the

parking lot just as he got almost to the boat launch. It was pulling

a pontoon boat, and it contained fifteen teenagers and their

chaperones from the Eternal Word of Apostolic Light Full Gospel

Holiness Church (according to the printing on the side). Not the sort

of people Jeff put high on his list of potential flashees, yet they

most certainly got a very clear view of Jeff's undulating butt as he

strode briskly to the Jeep. He sprinted around to the back side of

the Jeep and tried to keep its sides between him and the van as Ed and

Jake hastily completed the fastenings.

At last, with van passengers craning their necks and Ed absently

massaging his backside (but smiling as he did so), Jake cranked the

engine, and the Jeep, plus the jet-skis and one-point-nine naked men,

careened from the lot.

It was one-thirty in the afternoon. Jeff was at last on his way back

to the safety of his own fenced in property. But it was a half-hour

drive to get there, and there were no doors or windows on the Wrangler.

And he was still just as naked as the day he was born. Only much

more erect in the penis department.

IV

Jeff was not looking forward to another naked ride home in Jake's

open Wrangler. Mercifully, today's ride would be only half as long,

and much more would be on two-lane, country roads, which would make

for less passing and far fewer trucks. What Jeff didn't count on,

though, was the flat tire.

It had been quite bad enough already, with several incidents of

residents on their porches overlooking the roadside rising, pointing,

laughing, scowling, or shouting as the men drove by, with Jeff's naked

body visible from head to toe. Of course, the tension and suspense

caused his notorious boner to make itself humiliatingly known. Under

Jeff's pleading, Jake offered to take a short cut which, he promised,

would cut their journey by twenty minutes, and he veered off the

county road onto a tiny pig trail which cut through a ravine and over

a steep hill on a deeply rutted, stony, and trash-strewn path,

dragging the bouncing water-sled trailer all the way. About half a

mile after they emerged on the next paved road, the Jeep suddenly

slowed and tilted, and Jake pulled over onto the shoulder.

"Damn, what now?" wailed Jeff.

"Flat, I think."

"You can't have a flat, you drive a fuckin' Jeep!"

"It can happen." Jake peered at the rear passenger tire. "It has

happened."

Jeff got out and stared dolefully at the totally flat tire, a big

gash clearly visible in its tread. He groaned. They were parked on a

level stretch between two rolling hills. Vehicles approaching from

either direction could be upon them before they realized it. Jeff

felt hugely vulnerable out here in the open in his bare-ass condition,

with no place to hide.

The two set to work. In a matter of minutes, they had the spare off

the back of the Jeep and its rear-end jacked up. Jake would have been

more help if he had not been so busy looking at Jeff's naked body and

grinning. Jeff was using his superb shoulder and bicep strength on

loosening the lug nuts of the wheel, with Jake standing beside him,

when he heard the sound of car wheels approaching, then slowing.

"Uh-oh," said Jake dully.

A car door slammed, and the gravels crunched with approaching

footsteps. There was no place to go. Jeff knelt beside the wheel,

tire iron in his hands, sweat running down his bare flanks, and

hard-on pointing at the sky. The crunching stopped just behind Jake,

and he heard a male voice.

"Flat tire?

Then Jake's response. "Yes, officer. We're fine, thanks, almost

finished."

Jeff's heart seemed to stop. Its beating was transferred to his

erect dick, which throbbed rhythmically as if nodding its head.

Jeff peeked around Jake's muscular thigh to see the gray trouser-leg

of a uniform. Gray—that meant State. Oh, shit.

His eyes moved up to a narrow, gun-holstered waist, flat stomach

under a crisp uniform shirt. Hands on hips. Wedding band. Badge on

a pumped-out chest. Strong-jawed, clean-shaven, handsome face.

Quizzical expression, eyebrows raised, slight smirking smile. Cap on

a closely-cropped head.

"Why are you naked, Bud?"

The two men began their stammering explanations in bursts of

semi-intelligible phrases while the officer's glance moved from one to

the other.

"Well, I guess asking to see some I. D. is out, then. So you're

riding home on state roads buck naked and in full view of the public?

You do know about our laws on public nudity and indecent exposure,

don't you? But why the hell is your dick hard? What have you two

been up to?"

That brought another barrage of explanatory nonsense from both men at

once. Finally, the trooper waved them to halt.

"I never heard of a guy who couldn't NOT get hard before," he said

dubiously. "But luckily for you, I haven't had any complaints about

you." Jeff hesitantly began to breathe again.

"We'll just get this spare on, and then we'll be on our way,

officer," he offered hopefully.

"The hell you will. Your friend can, even though he is only about

two threads away from public indecency himself. But you, Jaybird,

you're going with me."

Jeff's heart sank. "You mean you're going to arrest me? But I… But…"

"No, I'm not going to have every trooper in the district laughing at

me for driving in with a naked idiot with a hard-on. But I'm not

going to let you flaunt that package of yours all over the county,

either. You wouldn't get two miles down this road before my radio

would be squawking like crazy, and then I'd have to come right back to

pick you up and take you in. There's no way I'm going to put myself

through the deposition on that case! What we're going to do is, I'm

going to take you home."

Jeff could hardly believe it. On the positive side, he was not

getting busted—and that was a very big positive, indeed! But on the

other hand, he was going to have to ride home naked with this handsome

officer laughing at him all the way.

At least the patrol car did have doors!

Five minutes later, the tire was changed, Jake was pulling away,

glancing back guiltily at Jeff being left behind with the stony-faced

trooper. Jeff moved toward the back door, but the officer stopped him.

"No, ride in front. I'm Officer Taylor, by the way. Stan."

Jeff crawled in beside Stan, and he stomped the accelerator. What a

difference it makes not to have to worry about speed limits! They

passed Jake, who for once was behaving himself speed-wise, in a couple

of miles. He waved ruefully. Jeff sat back to endure the trip as

best he could, wearing nothing but a seat belt and a resigned look.

He had the passing concern that Stan might have plans for some kind

of favor to be performed, but if he had any such thought, it never was

mentioned. The patrol car did serve to shield Jeff's shanks from the

view of ordinary vehicles. However, it did nothing whatever to

shelter him from scrutiny by the drivers of SUV's, pick-ups, and

trucks. Taylor soon revealed himself to have a bit of a sadistic

streak. Every time he passed a vehicle driven by a man, he paused a

bit to give the driver a good, long look. He grinned wickedly as he

looked across Jeff's lap to observe the surprised and intrigued

expressions on their faces.

Jeff responded in several ways: his dick got harder, his skin

blushed redder, and his facial expression became more chagrined. On

the plus side, there was no need to worry about one of the drivers

phoning the police! And Officer Taylor seemed to be having a great

time.

For the last half of the ride, Taylor swooped up onto the

controlled-access highway. Traffic was constant in the right lane,

and there was pretty much all the time some guy leering into the

window into his lap.

Jeff was in an agony of discomfort. Here he was sitting totally

naked in a patrol car with a fully uniformed state trooper about his

own age on the other end of the bench seat, still not entirely sure he

was not going to be arrested for being caught naked on the state

right-or-way, never mind how `not his fault' it was. Every time they

passed a man who could see inside the car, Taylor slowed to let the

guy stare down onto Jeff's naked body—and nearly all of them did, at

least stealthily. Having them peek at him like that, out of the

corner of their eyes, was almost worse for Jeff than being stared at

openly, especially when, out of the corner of his own eye, he could

see Taylor's wide grin of enjoyment. In all of this, a pinkish tone

glowed over Jeff's tanned skin, and his enormous dick jutted straight

out from his dark pubes like a lance. To his dismay, he felt a tremor

of excitement in his low-hanging balls, and then a long drip of clear

precum suddenly streamed out of the end of his shuddering dick onto

the officer's upholstery. Humiliated, he was just cutting his eyes

over to see if Taylor had noticed, when he heard a deep chuckle

resonate from his seat-mate. Jeff sighed. Yes, he noticed. How

humiliating.

He wondered—any chance Stan was gay and getting off on this? He

contrived to glance over at the trooper's package. Stan's muscular

thighs, clad in their tight gray uniform pants, were spraddled. Below

the wide leather holster, where the legs met in the crotch, was an

unmistakable rounded bulge. He could even make out a good-sized tube

dangling into the left trouser leg, with an identifiable rim an inch

from the end. It was a nice one. But it was not hard. Jeff's relief

evaporated, however; Stan caught him checking and smirked. Now Jeff

was doubly humiliated. The officer was now assuming that HE was gay

and that he and Jake….Fuck, what a mess.

"Do I turn you on or something?" Stan asked forthrightly.

"No." Jeff's tone was resigned but, he hoped, definite.

"So why do you have a hard on, then? You like this, don't you?"

Jeff tried again to explain that he was simply strangely,

unaccountably oversexed and that the kind of stimulation that would

cause most guys to go totally limp made him rock hard and drooling

uncontrollably, but even to him he sounded lame and dorkish. He

wasn't even sure he believed himself. He had never felt like such a

total loser.

Taylor shook his head disbelievingly, still smirking. But by now,

they had reached Jeff's exit. From here, his house was only four

blocks away. Soon, this ghastly ordeal would be over, and he would be

safe at home. The car swerved onto the exit ramp, and Jeff shifted a

little in his seat expectantly.

At the end of the ramp, there was a boarded-up Exxon station, and

Taylor unexpectedly pulled into it, and around to the back of the

building. Now Jeff sat up straight and turned questioningly toward

Taylor. Was this the moment he had been fearing? Was Stan about to

demand a blow job in exchange for not arresting him? The car stopped.

"Well, this is it, boner boy," smirked the trooper.

"This is what?"

"End of the line. Where you get out."

"But I… my house is… I can't…."

"My district ends at this exit. I can't go any further, this is

Hinkleman's tour today," Stan stated flatly.

Jeff stared at him blankly. His dick gave a little twitch.

"I can't make it without… It's too…I'll get…."

"Yeah, but if there's a call now, it'll be a toss-up whether the

locals get you or that chump Hinkleman," Stan chuckled. "I'd love to

see the look on his face when he has to book you."

Jeff's expression melted into a horrified grimace.

"Well, I'll tell you one thing. It's good you didn't ask if you

could suck me off, like you were wanting to do. I'd have busted you

right then, fag."

Jeff's mouth opened to protest, but he only sputtered.

"Try that on Hinkleman, if he nabs you, though. I've been kind of

wondering about him. Now—OUT!"

Stunned at the injustice of this turn of events, Jeff swung open the

cruiser door and stepped out. As the door slammed, with a parting

sneer, Trooper Taylor stomped the accelerator with his booted foot and

sped off in a shower of dust and gravel.

Now, behind the closed-up station, Jeff stood completely naked, still

unaccountably hard, and pondered his predicament. Four long blocks to

home, three of them on a heavily-traveled four-lane thoroughfare in

broad daylight. No cell phone. No change in his pockets. No pockets.

He felt a familiar stirring deep in his balls. He looked down at his

deep red fuck stick to see the first of at least seven long streams of

very satisfying ejaculate erupt from his trembling phallus onto the

pot-holed pavement.

He sighed.

V.

For a moment, Jeff just stood awkwardly, wondering what the hell to

do. It was mid-afternoon, and traffic was heavy. It would be six

hours before dark fell, and even then these streets would be brightly

lit. Jake would head over to his house only blocks away, but there

was no way to get in touch with him there. Somehow, he just had to

sprint for home without being arrested or recognized.

He looked around. The back of this abandoned Exxon station, where he

now stood, opened onto the backs of other businesses, which lined

McAfee Drive on his left. The interstate highway right-of-way lay at

his right. He could conceivably get from here to Cleveland Boulevard,

the perpendicular road a block away, by cutting across these back

lots, ducking from dumpster to weed patch. It was pretty desolate

back there, with lots of litter and even an occasional

abandoned-looking car. He set out jogging, looking around nervously

for any sign of an observer.

Passing behind the second business, he saw a small sedan turning into

the driveway out front, and he crouched behind a couple of trash cans.

Suddenly, something caressed his left ass cheek, and he jumped a foot

off the ground. The thing meowed. Jeff let out a huge sigh and sank

back on his heels. The lonely, homeless cat, a mangy-looking brindle

creature, purred and rubbed repeatedly against the butt of this new

prospect for pet ownership. Then the vehicle parked behind the office

and a stocky woman got out and went in the back door. Jeff stood and

began to slink onward, limping across a graveled drainage ditch along

the property line. Now his feet were hurting.

The next building looked closed up, and at the back of its lot was

one of the abandoned cars he had seen. Jeff hobbled toward the back

of it for a little shelter. But just as he came within two feet of

the crumpled hood, he saw a camouflage cap and painted face rise up

from the other side of the fender. Then the barrel of a rifle.

Then the rifle fired, he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his right nut,

and his crotch exploded in red! Screaming in pain and horror, he

stared down at his favorite body parts. His stiff dick still rose out

of the nest of his pubes, and his throbbing balls were still there.

But the whole area was drenched with bright red--

PAINTGUN PAINT!

The camouflaged warrior rose and whooped with triumph at his "kill."

He fired again, and another bright red splotch caught Jeff square on

the navel. Now five or six other combatants came swooping in from all

directions, firing away. They buzzed Jeff like mosquitoes, and he

soon looked like a spotchy Twister board, with splashes of green,

yellow, purple, and orange joining the red on all sides of his body.

His attackers were now revealed to be a gang of thirteen to

fourteen-year-old boys. They also had paint splats on their uniforms

from earlier assaults on one another—but now, they were gleefully

united in their guerilla attack on this lone naked man who had invaded

their turf.

Jeff's nut still tingled, and his butt felt wet. He'd like to thrash

these young hooligans. Hearing laughter behind him, he turned. The

heavy woman from next door was on the doorstep of her office, doubled

over with derisive laughter. A vehicle on the road beyond was

slowing, its driver craning his neck.

Jeff gritted his teeth, turned tail, and ran.

Dashing through the next three lots, he felt his backside being

plastered with paint, and he heard the laughter and shouts of the

young warriors as they scored hit after hit on his naked back, ass,

and legs. Then he felt a more forcible blow on his left bicep and

heard a squish. He looked left. A squat Hispanic man in an apron was

hurling eggs at him out of a carton. Another hit Jeff square on the

jaw, then one caught him on the left hip. Damn, the guy must be

Dominican! He shouted sharp Spanish obscenities for which Jeff needed

no translation.

Careening around a dumpster, Jeff saw the sprawling homeless man just

in the nick of time to keep from tripping over him. The guy was

probably in his forties but looked sixty, his ragged, dirty shirt

unbuttoned and his hairy torso bulging out of it. He was just waking,

his eyes squinting sleepily. Jeff did what he had to do—he leaped,

and flew like a long jumper right over the guy. The homeless fellow

got a glimpse of Jeff's long, bare legs passing over him, with the

dangling nut sack and enormous, swollen dick for which our hero was

already locally famous in between. The drunk's head fell back onto

the pavement, and his eyes closed again, as the young assassins closed

in on him and rained down colored blobs of paint upon his

stupor-clouded body.

Meanwhile, Jeff, the fleet of foot, rainbow-clad streaker, made his

escape. He ran between two buildings at the end of the row, which

fronted on Cleveland. Now he had to cross that busy street and the

large Home Depot parking lot on the other side, travel one long block

away from the Interstate, and then turn right a block to get to the

quieter, residential street his house was on.

He paused behind an arborvitae to survey his situation. His right

nut and bush were bright red, but his left nut and the head of his

still boned dick were yellow, as was his navel. One tit was purple,

just below the other, a big green blotch. His jaw was blue. Both

thighs were decorated with blue and red, and his backside—well, he

could only imagine. At least he now looked more comical than sexual,

and maybe he could thereby avoid arrest. He decided the thing to do

was just to run for it. But his right foot felt funny. He looked

back and saw red tracks. Not paint. Raising his foot to check, he

saw a cut on his heel. So his speed would be hampered.

A kind of battle-induced adrenaline set in. Jeff just wanted to get

home, and perhaps kill Jake for getting him into this mess. He turned

toward the highway and set out running, but putting his weight on the

front half only of his right foot. Now he was more comical than ever.

He caught a lull in the traffic in the first two lanes and easily got

halfway across the street. But then, dancing naked on the double

yellow lines, he paused for a delivery van and two sedans to pass,

gawking drivers craning and pointing. He crossed the next lane and

then almost got run over by—none other than Channel 7 Eyewitness News.

The grinning driver and the shocked reporter beside him had eyes like

saucers. Jeff sort of bounced off their hood, turned and continued to

the side of the road. He leaped a row of shrubs, landing square on

his cut foot, and fled across the sidewalk and into the Home Depot

lot. Behind him, he heard the news van's tires squeal. They were

coming around for another look!

The parking lot was wide open spaces here at the street side, but

there were a few loose shopping carts to provide the occasional

obstacle. Even on his gimpy foot, Jeff made impressive time. The

later news reports from "Eye Witnesses" all commented that the

streaker was most likely a track star (Jeff never was, of course, just

a scared-shitless fun-runner). At any rate, by the time the news van

got through the traffic and into the lot, Jeff was halfway across and

running between rows of parked cars where the pursuer could not easily

follow.

There were plenty of viewers this time loose on the lot. Jeff ran

past half a dozen surprised shoppers, danced around a cart or two,

avoided a moving car here and there, and left them gawking and

pointing everywhere.

Now, you may be wondering about the state of his arousal after all

this trauma. If anything, his ten-inch dick was harder than ever, his

multi-colored balls bouncing fuller and looser than before. Every eye

fastened immediately on his lurid tool kit, and absolutely nobody

thought that he was sexless.

"I just know he was out to rape me," garbled one breathless blonde

woman later on the news. "He was, you know, so aroused! And the way

he looked at me!" She looked as if she were about to swoon as the

camera faded back to the equally hyperventilating young breasty reporter.

But Jeff was long gone, exiting the lot at the side, and heading down

the block, again using the back margins of the business properties

along the way. At least two dozen more people saw him clearly, many

of them shouting, waving their arms, shaking their fists. Jeff would

never have believed that a simple thing like a naked man could make

people respond with such hostility and anger. And the obscenities!

Pervert! Motherfucker bastard! These were some of the milder

epithets hurled.

At last, Jeff rounded his own street corner and sprinted the last

half block to his own familiar haven. Home had never looked so good!

Sure enough, Jake's Wrangler and their new Jetskis were parked in the

driveway. He heard a police siren in the distance now. The front

door was slightly ajar—good, Jake had remembered where to find the

spare key in the back yard. Jeff hurled himself inside and slammed

the door behind him.

Jake stood at the kitchen door, a beer bottle halfway to his lips,

his eyes round and his jaw gaping. He was also stark naked. But he

looked like he had just stepped out of the shower, as indeed he had.

Jeff, on the other hand, was caked with sweat, paint, dirt, and eggs.

"What in hell happened to you?"

"Just help me—they're after me!"

Wordlessly and with great gentleness, Jake put his arm around his

friend and led him into the bathroom. But first, he locked the

front door.

EPILOGUE

Jake got most of the paint and all of the egg and dirt off in the

warm shower, and by the time he took Jeff out, Jeff was starting to

feel somewhat hopeful again. Jake spread a duvet on the dining table

and helped Jeff up onto it. He got him a pillow. Then, turning him

onto his stomach (and arranging Jeff's big dick to point up to his

navel so not to be pressed by his hip bone), he began to work on his

backside. With a warm cloth, he continued to massage gently until he

got every bit of the paint off of Jeff's back, thighs, and butt. Jeff

thought there must have been a huge amount of paint clinging to his

ass, because of the amount of time Jake spent kneading and massaging

on his buttock muscles. It felt so good, he'd have been glad to have

it continue all night. Jake massaged Jeff's feet and bandaged the cut

on the right one. Then he rolled Jeff over and began to work on the

front side.

It was one thing to have Jake rubbing on his thighs, but in no time

at all, his warm, strong hands were working right up next to Jeff's

dangling manly equipment. Jeff's eyes opened, and he squinted down at

his still-naked friend, intent upon his task of cleaning up Jeff's

speckled manhood. His dick soared. Fortunately, the paint had washed

off of its bulging head. But the pubes were still pretty caked.

"Don't go scrubbing around on my unit, now, Jake," Jeff pleaded.

"It's got to be gotten off now, bud, it will only get worse as it dries."

Jeff sighed. Was there to be no end to the humiliation of it all?

Jake was dabbing and pulling at his pubes now.

"This stuff is not that easy to get off." Jake paused and studied

his target area thoughtfully. "How `bout if I shave it off?"

"Shave my pubes? ALL of `em?" Jeff felt he had just about reached

the bottom of the pit. But what could he do?

"Oh, hell with it. Sure. Go ahead. Shave away."

So Jake got shaving gel and razor and set to work. In half an hour,

Jeff's midsection was smooth and soft, and paint-free, as the

proverbial baby's behind.

"Wow. What a difference a little bush makes," Jake commented. "I

like it, though. Maybe I'll do mine, too."

Jeff raised up to look. His balls, which he had been shaving for

some time, nevertheless seemed to hang even lower. His cock, though,

seemed bigger than ever, and oh-so touchable, so appetizing, so—so

suckable.

The thought had hardly formed in his mind before he saw and felt

Jake's warm mouth going down on his rod, enveloping it in wet comfort.

Jeff's head settled back onto the pillow and his eyes closed. That

Jake. Can't figure him out. Sometimes want to kill him. Gets me

into all kinds of trouble. But damn. He can be a great guy to have

around.

Jeff's balls let loose with a stream of baby juice down Jake's

gullet. Jake lapped it up and continued to suck and orally massage

Jeff's grateful meat. In all, he got three of those eruptions before,

almost an hour later, he gave it up and went to lie on the sofa.

Jeff woke a while later and swung off of the table. He began to

stagger back towards the bedroom but, glancing at the sofa, he saw

Jake's manly, muscled form sprawled there.

"Jake!" he called.

"Yeah, whut?" Jake answered sleepily.

"C'mon to bed, man. There's room for two."

Jake smiled softly and followed his friend down the hall.