Tangled Sheets (31 page)

I pushed back against Gabriel, asking him to ride me harder. He answered by building to a fierce rhythm, slapping against my ass roughly. His arms remained around my chest, pulling me back against his thrusts and driving him deep inside me. When he came, he tightened his grip on my chest, pushing up into me in short jabs as his load spurted into me.

When he was done, he pulled out and turned me around. “Come on me,” he ordered. He stood close to me, his hand on my shoulder, his booted foot pressed against my leg.

For the first time, I touched my own cock. Looking into Gabriel's face and feeling the leather against me, I didn't take long to bring myself off. With a few tugs on my dick, I watched as a heavy load splattered over the surface of Gabriel's jacket and dripped onto his boots. The cum lay pale and white against the darkness of the leather. Gabriel ran his finger through the stains, rubbing my cum into the leather. He was smiling.

 

I saw Gabriel many other nights after that one, until I knew the feeling of his body against mine as well as I did that of a familiar shirt. Even now the smell of him lingers in the jacket, left on my bed the morning he had to leave for good. I take it from the closet and pull it over my bare skin. My cock stiffens, and as my hand begins to slide up and down my shaft, I remember everything.

S
tanding on the riverbank looking down into the black rushing water, I started to think that maybe a daylong rafting trip wasn't as good an idea as it had seemed when I was reading the Whitewater Adventures brochure I'd picked up at the station while planning what to do on my weekend off. In the pictures, smiling people had bobbed along down a peaceful river without so much as a drop of water on them. It seemed like the perfect way to relax and forget the pressures of having to whip thirty new recruits into shape.

But the pictures in the brochure were nothing like what I was looking at now. Although I got a lot of swimming practice in the police academy, these rapids looked rougher than anything I had experienced, crashing in white sheets over the stones that rose out of the river like the mossy teeth of some underwater monster.

I was about to turn around and head straight back to my Jeep and the safety of the crime-riddled city when my guide showed up. About thirty, he stood over six feet tall. He was wearing a white tank top and had the lean, well-muscled body of a man who spends most of his time out of doors. His dark hair was cut short, as if it had been shaved close at the beginning of the summer and was just starting to grow back in, and he had a day's growth of beard shading his wide jaw.

But what I noticed most was the bulge hanging between his legs. He had on blue nylon running shorts, and although they hung loosely around his legs, there was no hiding the equipment stashed beneath the soft ocean of material. I decided maybe the water might not be so rough after all, at least not if I could look at this guy all day.

“Hey,” he said pleasantly, walking over and extending his hand. “You must be Tom. I'm Brad.” His grip was firm and confident, and he smiled easily. “Looks like we're going to have a good day for rafting.”

“I hope it isn't too rough,” I said, trying to keep my eyes on his face. “I don't have much experience with white water.”

“Don't worry,” Brad reassured me. “I've been down this river a hundred times, and I haven't lost a customer yet.” He laughed. “Besides, the action's always best when it's a little rough.”

As I was thinking of what to reply to that, and trying not to stare at Brad's bulging shorts, another man came down the path to the river. Shorter and stockier than Brad, he looked to be in his early twenties. He was wearing shorts, too, but was shirtless. His beefy chest was covered with thick fur a shade darker than his light brown hair, and his skin was tanned golden. He looked like a jock, and I guessed he was one of the many college kids that spent their summers earning tuition money before heading back to play ball for another semester.

“Tom, this is Craig,” Brad said, introducing the newcomer. “Craig plays lacrosse for Hanover,” he continued, confirming what I had suspected about Craig's academic leanings. “He's helping me out this summer.”

“Yeah,” Craig said, “Brad here's showing me the ropes. I figure in another week I'll be leading trips downriver by myself.” He had a low, smoky voice, and winked at me as he spoke, including me in his joke.

Brad slapped Craig on the back. “Don't get too cocky, buddy. You've still got a lot to learn before you can go solo.”

Introductions over, the two of them set about preparing the raft for our trip, checking the knots that secured the nylon guy ropes and making sure there were no leaks in the yellow rubber raft. They worked with the easy grace of men who depended on one another, each doing his job quickly and smoothly, never getting in the other's way. As a police officer, I appreciated good teamwork and enjoyed watching them go about their jobs. The fact that they were half-naked didn't hurt, either, and I thought of a lot of other things I'd like to see them do together.

When Brad was satisfied that everything was in order, it was time to shove off. He handed me an orange life vest and showed me how to secure it around my chest and waist. When he put his arms around me, I could feel his cock pressing against my ass and had to work hard not to pop my own bone right on the spot. All I needed was for him to toss me overboard for getting too friendly.

“All right,” he said once I was strapped into my vest. “You set for the ride of your life?” I smiled weakly, looking at the water, which I was convinced was now rushing twice as quickly as it had been ten minutes before. “I guess so,” I said, trying to sound more excited than I felt, hoping he wouldn't hear the apprehension in my voice.

He and Craig also put on life vests. Craig told me to climb onto the raft, which I did none too gracefully. It was an odd sensation feeling the water rising and falling beneath me, and it took me a minute to get the hang of letting my body move with the motion of the water instead of against it. Once I had it pretty much under control and could keep my balance, Brad handed me a paddle. Then he and Craig waded into the river up to their knees, guiding the raft out toward the faster water.

Craig heaved himself into the raft in front of me, taking up the lookout position. Then, after giving a final push from behind, Brad jumped in behind me. “Don't use your paddle too much in the rapids,” he said. “Just let the water take us where it wants to go.”

I didn't have to be told twice. I was more concerned about staying in the raft than I was about showing off my paddling technique. As the raft moved out into the center of the river, the current grabbed hold, pulling us right into the rushing water. Pretty soon we were shooting in and out between the massive stones, riding the water like a leaf. Although I knew Brad wouldn't intentionally put us in any danger, I still kept my eyes glued to Craig's back, watching as he carefully used his paddle to push us away from the biggest stones.

After a few minutes, I actually started to enjoy the experience. Sandwiched in between two hunky studs, I was feeling the thrill of just letting go and letting the river take control. From behind me I occasionally heard Brad's voice as he shouted instructions to me about when to use my paddle or which way to lean into a rapid. As we dipped into one wave and rode up the other side, spray splashed over into the raft. Soon all three of us were soaked through, our clothes clinging wetly against our skin. I especially noticed how Craig's shorts wrapped tightly around his muscular ass, showing off the smooth curve of his cheeks as he knelt in front of me. A couple of times I almost lost my balance because I was deep in fantasy, thinking about giving his butt a good tongue washing.

Finally, the raft shot past the last rock, and we were out of the rapids. The river lay stretched out before us like glass, flowing smoothly and easily. “Well,” Craig asked, turning to look at me. “How'd you like that?”

“It was great,” I said, noticing for the first time how blue his eyes were. “I really felt like part of the water back there.”

“It is something else,” Brad said. “Now we have a good hour of smooth sailing ahead. It'll give us a chance to rest up some. You can even swim if you want to. The current here is pretty calm.”

“I think I'll just sit for a while and enjoy the scenery,” I said, eyeing the outline of Brad's cock where the water had soaked his shorts.

“Suit yourself,” Brad answered. “I'm going in.”

He shed his life vest and peeled off his tank top, revealing powerful, smooth pecs and a rippling stomach. Then he sat back and slipped off his shorts. His dick hung down between his legs, curving gently over a set of juicy hairless balls. Much sooner than I would have liked, Brad had slipped over the edge of the raft and was swimming away. His strong, even strokes carried him out into the river, where he turned and floated on his back, his beautiful prick resting on his stomach.

“Might as well enjoy the sun,” Craig said. “It's not too hot this time of day, so you don't have to worry about getting burned.”

He had also removed his shorts and was sitting with his back against the side of the raft, his legs spread. His head was thrown back, and his eyes were closed. One hand was between his legs, and he was rubbing his hairy ballsac, rolling his nuts between his fingers and tugging on them. His cock was stretched over one big thigh. Even half-erect, it was longer than most men are hard, the bulky shaft ending in a smooth, round head. He had no tan line, and like the rest of him, his cock was the color of honey.

The sight of the big college jock spread out in front of me like that was all I needed. I quickly removed my clothes, freeing my own stiffening prick. Feeling the raft move, Craig opened his eyes and looked appreciatively at my piece of prime lawman meat and smiled. “Looks like the sun's making everything grow today,” he said.

I moved forward in the raft until I was kneeling in front of him. Running my hands over his wide chest, I felt the warmth of the sun where it had soaked into his skin. His nipples had stiffened in the slight breeze. Pinching them between my thumb and forefinger, I kneaded them until they were throbbing like tiny hearts in my hand, coaxing little moans from Craig's throat.

Craig lay back, putting his arms on either side of the raft and letting his hands drag in the water. Still massaging his tits, I bent down and took the tip of his cock in my mouth. My lips slid easily over the swelling head and down the shaft until I could feel the rough hair at the base tickling my tongue and my nose was engulfed in his bush. His crotch had a rich, musky smell to it that reminded me of a locker room. I pictured him in the locker room with his team after a game, and it made me horny as hell.

As I worked my mouth up and down Craig's rod, it grew harder and harder, swelling under the pressure from my tongue. Soon he was filling every bit of my throat, and there was no way I could keep his full length down my pipe. What I couldn't suck in I pumped steadily with my hand, wrapping my fingers around his shaft so hard I could feel the vein that ran under his cock pulsing against my palm. With his hand on the back of my head, Craig gently thrust his hips against my face, slowly fucking my mouth. Each time he pulled almost out, I wrapped my lips around his cockhead and sucked eagerly, milking drops of sweet precum from his slippery slit.

After a few minutes of working my throat, Craig pulled my head away. He shifted forward so that he was lying flat on his back and swung me around so that I was straddled over him, my cock hanging in his face. Wrapping his big arms around my waist, he pulled my hips down against his chest, slamming my prick into his throat. I was amazed at how easily he swallowed my dick without so much as taking a breath. This kid was one goddamn fine cocksucker, and I almost lost it as his throat muscles rippled along the length of my cock.

As Craig sucked me, I rubbed my body against his hairy chest, grazing his nipples with my stomach, feeling the roughness of his beard on my balls where they slid over his chin. Looking down at his quivering prick, I found myself staring at his nuts. I'd wanted a taste of Craig's huge balls ever since I saw him pulling on them, and now they were right in front of me, ripe for the picking. Letting my face sink down between his thighs, I pulled his horse nuts into my mouth and sucked them slowly, enjoying the feel of their roundness on my tongue. As I did, Craig fisted his meat under me, jerking roughly on his beautiful piece as I gorged myself on his hairy ball fruit.

Sliding my tongue underneath his balls, I ran it lightly along the sensitive ridge that led to his asshole. Craig's body jumped, and I felt the moan in his throat echo along my shaft where it was buried in him. He pulled his legs back, putting his hands behind his knees and pulling them apart so that I could look right into his crack. Like the rest of him, his ass was covered with fur. I buried my nose in the jungle between his cheeks, drawing the thick man scent that lay there into my lungs.

Spreading his ass with my fingers, I ran my tongue down his valley, slurping at the hairy sides. Licking slowly, I worked my way into the delicious center of his jock butt. His hole was slick with sweat and my spit, and I slid inside him effortlessly, his ass ring closing around my tongue like I was sinking into warm water. He locked his muscular legs around my neck and pulled me even deeper, the hair on his legs brushing my face as I ate out his tasty hole. I slurped eagerly at his pink pucker, flickering my tongue in and out of him until he was pushing as hard as he could against me and moaning.

I was really getting into feeling Craig squirm from the ass work I was giving him when a voice came from behind me. “I can't leave you two alone for a minute, now, can I?” Brad was leaning on the edge of the raft, watching the proceedings with an amused smile on his face.

He pulled himself up and into the raft in one quick motion. As he did, I noticed that his cock was hard as a rock, swinging up from between his legs and pointing toward his chest. Judging from the line of precum that drooled down the side of his tool, I guessed he must have been watching us for quite a while. Drops of water dripped from his balls, plopping heavily onto the rubber floor of the raft. “I think it's time to show you just how rough this water can get,” he said, slipping into place behind me.

Brad knelt, his legs on either side of Craig's head. Taking his prick in his hand, he ran the still-wet head over my back, tracing a path over the skin just above my crack. Then, with one strong hand gripping my cheeks, he spread my ass and slipped a finger into my waiting hole. As his finger slipped through my butt door and slid into my burning chute, he pulled roughly on my balls, tugging them away from Craig's hungry mouth and holding them in his fist. My sphincter tensed around his finger, and it took all I had to keep from filling Craig's throat with a load of jism.