The mists rose from the lake like a soft pillow. The early morning light broke through, glinting on its surface. In a haze of my own, I went out on the deck to survey, coffee cup in hand; my morning erection was still there, begging for attention. I ignored it. I sat on the dew-covered Adirondack chair. It was cool, but not cold; the summer of 1985 promised to be a good one. It was coming now, in full force. I sat and looked out over the lake, feeling the Sunnis strength gaining, its warmth full on my face like a sweet, warm fire. The dew was gone, and I stared out at the boathouse and dock, and beyond to the beautiful clouds building in the golden morning light.

My coffee finished, I turned my attention to my hardon. My cock was demanding, insisting that I address its need, uncaring that I may have things to do, places to go. So I began to absent-mindedly stroke it, my hand sliding up and down, lubricated by clear drops of precum. I looked down at its seven inches and let go of it. It smacked against my hairy stomach, its piss-slit just even with my navel. A drool of juice came out and pooled there, slick and wet. I grabbed it again and began to jerk off with gusto, harder, wanting to cum. I was fantasizing about a man I knew as I stroked. He worked at a gas station near the lake. He was tall, with a full and lush beard of gray and black, his strong forearms shown off by the rolled-up sleeves, a forest of chest hair spilling from his open collar. He slowly unzipped his overalls, and out tumbled more and more hair. The zipper reached the top of his dick, which is fat and meaty, the base of it showed he was getting hard, pulsing with heat. He freed his massive cock from the pants and it jutted out like a steel pole, at least ten inches and fat. He stroked along with me, his eyes searching mine, never looking down at my cock. He just kept looking into them, and I saw his mouth speaking words I couldn't hear, and I looked down as the first spurts of hot cum shoot from the head and land against my chest, then down my furry belly and legs. I began to cum too, the hot spunk coming from my cock and landing all over his overalls. He said something I could just make out, something like....

"Oh, Jesus, I'm sorry!"

I opened my eyes in alarm and there stood a man. I had never heard his approach into the back yard, never knew that he was there.

"Damn!" I barked. "You always sneak up on people like that?" My cock drooled and let loose a gob of cum. I wiped my hand, now covered in my juice, against the wood of the chair. The man diverted his eyes.

"Really, I'm sorry. I'm here to work on the boathouse." He towered above me, at least six-five, with dark hair and a short, neatly trimmed beard. He couldn't have been more than thirty. His pecs were massive, barely contained in a T-shirt that was covered in paint and torn in places. The hair on his arms was like a gorilla.

"Damn." I got up from the chair and walked into the house, my cock still dripping. I grabbed my thin summer housecoat from the bedpost and wrapped myself in it. When I walked outside, I noticed he was standing near the boathouse.

"Want a cup of coffee?" I yelled.

"Sure, thanks, black please." he yelled back. He turned around. His ass was tight in his white painter's pants.

I got the coffee and walked down to meet him.

"Thanks a lot. Sorry for the...interruption."

"No sweat. Just surprised me, that's all."

"Well, sorry. Now, just what is it that you want me to do here?"

"Come on in and take a look." I ushered him into the building. "I need these three boards replaced on the wall, and I want the interior painted. There's some loose floorboards that need to be tacked down, and the windowsills on that end need to be replaced." I walked over to the windows overlooking the lake. My two Sunfish were in the boat racks, unused since last summer. Oars, ropes and canvas hung on the walls. The interior was bright, with the sunlight colored red from reflecting on the boats.

"There's some damage here, too, from the winter. See the stains on the door?" He reached down and scratched his balls. "And there's some water damage up above. You must have some loose roofing tiles." He walked over and looked up in one corner. He leaned his hip against the wall rail. Then he turned around. I looked down and there was the distinctive outline of his cock. I pretended not to notice. "We're looking at four or five hundred to do the entire job. Should take me about four days to complete."

"Five hundred?" I secretly seethed. It seemed like a lot of money. Not to mention that this guy saw me cumming all over myself. Lots of money and embarrassment. Not a good start to a business deal.

"Well, maybe we can arrange a payment plan if you don't have it..."

"It's not that. It just seems steep, that's all."

"Well, the boards have to be cut to fit, have to get new roofing tiles, need to get good oil-based paint for the interior..."

"I get the picture." I scowled at the floor. "Fine, go ahead. I'll write you a check for half now, and half when you're done."

"Okay. I'll get my tools." He sauntered out of the boathouse toward his dilapidated pickup.

I was pissed. What could I do? I had no choice. Out here in the wilds of New Hampshire, you just couldn't find good workmen. I'd just have to deal with it.

I went back into the house and took a shower, then made some sandwiches. I put on a tank top and some old, worn denim shorts, and brought the food and some more coffee out to the boathouse. The buzz and whine of a saw permeated the stillness of the lake. The swans that nest nearby were nowhere to be found. Too much noise and confusion.

I entered through the open dock doors. The guy was standing against the wall, wiping the sawdust from his face. The sweat poured down his chest like a river and the sawdust clung there.

"Here's some sandwiches and coffee. Hope you don't mind ham and cheese." I placed the tray down on a small table.

"Why, thank you, that's real nice."

"Take a break. You look pretty warm."

"Yeah, sure am. Does get warm in here pretty fast." He came over to me and shook my hand. "This means I don't have to make a trip into town for grub." He wiped his hand on his pants and picked up one of the sandwiches. I poured coffee for him. He took the cup and sat on the stairwell to the second floor landing. He ate in silence. I grabbed one and sat down near him.

"How long you been doin' this?" I asked between mouthfuls.

"About twelve years. Not too much work for me here, though. I make decoys." He wolfed down half of the sandwich in one bite. He swallowed and slurped down a big gulp of coffee. "Sell about forty or fifty a year. Keeps me going."

"Well, that's good." I looked down at his crotch. His cock was definitely growing inside his pants, and it was not my imagination.

"I should get movin' here." He stood up. His dick was growing larger.

"Maybe you should break for awhile. You in a hurry?"

"Ah, got nothin' else planned this week. Pretty slow for me."

"Well, want to go for a swim?"

"Don't have trunks."

"Don't need ‘em here. Nobody can see down this end of the lake. I don't care, anyway. I always swim without them."

He looked me over for a moment. "Sure, what the heck. Sounds good to me. Let me just put the saw away."

I walked out to the dock with my heart hammering. I wasn't sure if he was interested in fucking around, but I sure was. My own cock was beginning to grow again in my shorts. I went to the end of the dock and took off my clothes, throwing them in a messy heap on the weather-beaten boards. My cock began to swell to full proportion. When I heard his footsteps on the dock, I jumped into the cool water.

I swam a bit away from the dock, and then turned to face him. He was standing naked on the end of the dock, his half-hard prick jutting from his body. It was impressive. Had to be the fattest cock I'd ever seen. His pelt ran down his chest like a river of hair, dark and luscious. He jumped off the end of the dock and landed with a big splash into the lake.

He sputtered to the surface. "Damn, still a bit cool! My balls'll shrink up to nothin'." He swam towards me. Water dripped lazily from his beard. His blue eyes were almost glowing in the bright noon light. He was smiling at me. "Darn good idea you had."

I treaded water not three feet from him. "Let's head over to the little island, there. It's a short swim. Come on!" I started doing the American Crawl, heading for the little jut of land. He raced ahead of me. Fast swimmer, this one! He did the Butterfly. His ass, covered with hair like a mat, bobbed up and down in the water as he stroked. He reached the little island and stood up in the water, a good fifty feet in front of me. I huffed and puffed my way next to him, still submerged to my neck as I caught my breath.

"Beat ya!," he said, like we were two school kids or something. He stood so that the water came just to the bottom of his pubic hair. The sun gleamed from his wet skin where there wasn't any hair. I turned toward him.

"Yeah, but I'm not as physically adept as you are." I looked down at the base of his cock. It was tormenting me. I wanted it.

"Well, can't all be good at everything. What do you do for a living?"

"I'm in advertising. You know the TV commercial with the three girls checking out the three penguins at the restaurant? That's mine."

"Oh, yeah, funny. Liked it." He stretched his arms out, like he was taking the entire lake in. "What do you do for fun?"

"Fun? Well, I live in New York most of the year. Lots to do there, but I'm usually pretty busy. Not much time for a life. That's why I bought this place, so I could spend the summers working here and enjoying myself."

"Havin' a good time?"

"Right now, yeah." I stood up and walked to the little island's shore, and climbed up into the tall reeds.

"Come on, I want to show you something." I walked into the center of the island. It was only about twenty feet wide by about sixty or seventy feet long. The tall reeds hid everything in the center of the small island from view.

Two years ago I had placed three wooden chaise lounge chairs there. I would sometimes take a lunch out here and sit. There were the chairs, right where I left them, clean from last night's thunderstorm and dry from the hot sun. "Hey, over here."

I reclined on one of the chairs. It felt good to be in the sun, warming from the cool lake water. My skin was like velvet from the soft rainwater of the lake.

He stumbled into the clearing and saw me lying there. "Well, I'll be." he said. He came up towards me and got on the chair next to me. "Ain't this nice? You got a nice little hidin' place here." He lay back in the chair and stretched out.

"Yeah, I like it. Come out here sometimes. Nice at night, if you're wearing repellent." My cock began to grow again. I peeked out of the corner of my eye and noticed that his dick had grown to half-staff. His eyes were closed.

I leaned over and without a word, took his cock into my mouth.

"What -- "

My mouth was filled with him. He was getting harder and harder as I sucked. He started to push into me, and I knew I had him. The head of his meatpole was huge inside my throat, but I just kept on it.

"Oh, man, that's great. Yeah. Suck that fucker. When I saw you on the deck beating that meat of yours, I wanted to go down on you right then. Didn't know if you liked cock." He grabbed the back of my head and pushed it down, impaling his cock deeper into my throat. I was salivating heavily. It ran down his cock as my head moved up and down over it. He reached down and pulled on my tits with his hands. I moaned.

"Like that, huh? Like that, fucker?" He pulled harder. I came up off his cock and milked it with my hand, trying to catch my breath. He pushed me back, and said with a wry smile, "Get that cock up here. I want it in my mouth." I moved to a sixty-nine position and went down on him again. He snapped up my meat, now leaking copious precum, and started tonguing it, his roughness taking hold of me, teasing, darting his hot tongue in and out of my piss-slit. He sucked it all the way down into his throat and I did the same, impaling my throat with his substantial cock. We sucked and nibbled for at least a half-hour, bringing ourselves close, then backing off. Finally I could barely stand it, and was about to cum, when he sensed it and pushed me off the chair and into the rough weeds.

"Not just yet. Get your ass up here." He stood and plucked me from the weeds, forcing me roughly over the chair. "Get ready, fucker. This job's gonna cost you a lot more than five hundred." He slicked me up by leaning down and, spreading my asscheeks, spit a huge wad of saliva onto my asshole. "You're gonna get a lot for the money." Using the head of his cock, now swollen to huge proportions, he rubbed the saliva into the opening of my hole. I was ready for him. It had been a long time since I'd been fucked, and my body wanted it.

"Oh, no, fucker, I'm gonna finish my lunch." He got down on his knees and placed his tongue right up my asschute, making me writhe with pleasure. My cock was up against the seat of the chair. He moved my ass up in the air and it plopped against the side of the seat, pointing straight down. He licked and sucked on it as if he was eating a popsicle in the summer heat. Up and down ran his tongue, from the piss-hole right up and into my asshole. I was moaning, lost in the sensations. He slurped and grunted, stopping only to lay a well-timed slap on my ass, which was making me hotter. As each slap came down, I felt a curious sensation, one of intense lust such as I had never experienced. Then he would begin eating me, rimming me with ferocity. He put one finger up my ass, then two; he pushed them in, spitting more spitlube on them and then, with a forceful grunt, push them all the way to his palm. Then two fingers were replaced by three, then four. My ass was completely opened up, and red from his whacks.

"Now, here it comes, fucker. You want this hot fuckin' pole up there, boy?"

"Yes, please, please, Sir, yes, fuck me, please, yes, fuck me..." The endless litany coming from me went on and on, begging for him to put that big fat fuckin' tool up there, to plug me as hard as he wanted. I was not going to be happy unless he put all of it up my ass, now.

He thrust his entire length into me all at once. The searing pain I expected never happened; he had lubed me and stretched me out so well there was none, only the curious sensation of being filled. He began fucking me with long, languorous strokes, each one punctuated by a grunt or a rush of wind from his lungs.

"You like this hot fucker up your ass, boy? You know you do, fucker. You're just a fucktool for my pleasure, asshole. You knew you wanted this from the first minute you saw me. Like that? Feel my hot cock inside you, boy?"

"Unnnh, Unnnh.." I gasped with each thrust. "Yes, SIR, Fuck me SIR, YEAH, Sir, Unnh, Yeah, FUCK me, YEAH, Oh, YEAH, please, SIR, I want your COCK up in me FORever, SIR, Yeah...." Each thrust became deeper and harder, faster and more and more furious. I could no longer talk at all, only grunt and moan as he fucked me.

He pulled his fat dick out of me, and jerked it as he slapped my ass. I put my hand down and grabbed my cock, and we both exploded, his cum landing all over my back and legs. I came gobs of spunk, all over the weeds below, shooting over and over again, gasping for breath from his savage fucking and my incredible orgasm. I turned over to see him staring at me with wild eyes, his cock dripping and oozing the last drops of his seed to the ground. His incredible hair-covered chest heaved with his breath.

We spent most of the afternoon there, sucking each other again and again, cumming three or four more times until there was nothing left inside us. We swam back to the dock just as the sun was beginning to go down below the trees on the other side of the lake. We went into the house, ravenously hungry and thirsty. We consumed almost everything in the refrigerator.

I built a fire in the living room and poured a couple shots of Jim Beam into two glasses, with ice. We sat on the floor, taking turns alternately kissing each other and taking sips of our whiskey.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Sure, why the hell shouldn't I be? Sucking your cock all afternoon..."

"Yeah, but, I mean, would you..."

"What?"

"Would you spend the night with me?"

"Do you have to ask?" he said, smiling eyes looking straight into mine.

"Good answer." I leaned over and grabbed his hand, and placed it on my cock. It rose in his grasp without hesitation. He leaned over and kissed me, then got up on his knees and kissed me again, this time very hard, very brutal.

"You just want me to fuck you again."

"Yeah, because you're not getting a dime out of me until you do. You'll have to do it until the job's done on the boathouse." I laughed. He was beautiful, powerful, the most beautiful man I'd ever had in my arms.

"Well, that's a deal. But for you, no charge."

Now it's 1996. And here he sits in front of the same fireplace, his mouth moving over my rock-hard cock. In New England, after all, you're not considered a couple until you've been together all your lives. And he still hasn't gotten a dime from me for finishing the boathouse!