|
The sun was still brutally hot as I rode into the Camp Ground. Having signed in I pitched my tent in the best spot I could find and made myself comfortable. I intended to visit two friends, who I knew were sure to be there. Ron and his wife had a caravan and lived there in the off - season, when they were not fruit or vegetable picking. It is a beautiful area, surrounded by inspiring mountains, cloaked in luxuriant rain forest, with the lower slopes given to cattle and small crops. Dark, spectacular, clouds were shrouding the peaks and billowing up the valley, like a herd of giant,unshorn sheep. The sun was still hot, but it would rain before nightfall. I walked up the slope to where I expected to find Ron and Shirley. The caravan and annex was there, as it always was, but looked so different. Instead of the usual bare and uncluttered surrounds; there were coils of barbed - wire, bags of cement and fence- posts, all stacked neatly. A small truck was parked, loaded with a post-hole borer, shovels, sinking bars and everything else used for erecting fences. The van had changed hands, because this just was not Ron. I could smell cooking and called out. A resonant voice answered from behind the coils of wire. Only come in if youve brought beer. I stepped inside the annex. Gday. Im looking for Ron. The guy I was addressing sat behind a small table, with his feet up. He wore a faded blue singlet, matching long pants and was barefoot. The exposed parts of his body were weather beaten and tanned. He had a barrel chest, bull neck and a broken nose. Nobody could call him handsome. He was at least sixty but looked fit and as a fencer, was. He laughed over the stubby (small bottle of beer) he was drinking. Well, hes not here. Where is he, then. I grinned back. Well, if its the same Ron who sold me this caravan an aboriginal.... I said, thats him! Last I heard, he was in Woodenbong. His Mississ names Shirley and shes black too. Thats them. Thanks. Ill catch up. Have a beer? Only because its a hot day. Thanks. He handed me a stubby. The names Bill. We talked and drank a few beers. I found myself strongly attracted to him but I was uncertain how he felt - perhaps nothing. He told me his wife had passed away about six months ago. He sold his home, because of all the memories and won a few fencing contracts, out this way. He took a keen interest on learning that I elected castration as an option to halt prostate cancer, The balls had to go but things are coming good. I know of a few blokes that had that. Its a bad business. Hows it going, so far? He asked, softly. Ive got no balls, on a lot of pills, dont have to shave as much, nipples have grown, getting bigger around the hips, my cocks shrinking, but still works well. I laughed. And thats the main thing .So, I cant complain. Good on you! And youre still fucking as well as before you and your balls parted company? I looked in his eyes and smiled. I wouldnt say a lot of actual fucking, but, I do what I can under the circumstances. He smiled back and with a knowing look, said, I think I get your drift. But listen, are you going to stay and have a feed ? I would love to. It smells so good, but Im going over to the pub, get a few more beers and then have a shower first. I must smell awful. I bought a carton of twenty four stubbies. I did not think we would drink that much, but you never know. We walked over to the showers together and stripped. I soaped and scrubbed myself quickly .He joined me. There was nobody else around. Bill had a muscular body, conditioned by years of hard manual work and a slight paunch, due to the beers over the years. His weathered face and exposed parts, belied the rest of his body, which was white, smooth and almost young looking. His circumcised cock hung limp, but full of potential and promise, over a pair of beautiful balls,so huge and awe inspiring, that I was transfixed. He noticed my longing look and could probably smell my desire. He looked down at where my balls used to hang and said, A neat job. Not much of the old ball bag left and almost everythings hidden by your thick bush. I like that! And what a ... a.....gorgeous backside. If I were gay, I would love to fuck you. I smiled and placed both his big hands on my buttocks and held them there. If you were gay, thats exactly what I would love you to do. He drew me towards him. Lets go, he said deliberately. Somebody could spring us here. Once in Bills caravan; I knelt in front of him and started to slowly work on his burgeoning cock with my mouth, lips and tongue. His scrotum tightened and I felt the big balls rolling inside. Gently, he guided me on to the bed. His attentions alternated between my swollen and highly sensitive nipples and my anus which was relaxed, ready and raring to go, for what would surely follow. He slowly masturbated my swollen cock and I almost howled with pleasure. Gradually, he worked on my anus. I held his big cock with, both hands, and guided it into my well prepared and oiled anus. Bill rode me like a champion. Waves of sheer ecstasy, swept through my body. He massaged my erect nipples and I fondled his magnificent balls, buttocks and thighs as he pumped with pure pleasure. I wanted this to go on for ever and ever and ever. His blue eyes shone with a new light and intensity. His smile grew broader as he masturbated me with increasing intensity. I strove to prolong this as long as possible and held off from ejaculation until it hurt. A combination of Bills cock pressing against my prostate and a concentrated pumping of my penis sent me insane. I lost all self control and was swept into an orgasm that seemed to blow my body apart. Bill just smiled a knowing smile as I gasped and shot my load in uncontrolled spasms that seemed to go on and on until I seemed to float on air and then collapsed into bliss and savor the magic of the moment A glow of satisfaction pervaded my whole persona. Bill rolled the well- filled condom off the head of his now waning wand, lightly pinched my, still erect, nipples and tight, empty scrotum and said, Im full, but I need something to eat and a cold beer would go down well. |