A Long Night in the Tent
"Go on son, strip off," I repeated his words that had stirred me two nights ago, imitating his deep tone. "Don't be bashful for my sake."
Russ laughed at my attempt and began to disrobe. He bent and yanked his underpants to his ankles, straightened and removed his socks. I continued to undress while keeping an eye on the way his substantial penis and doughy scrotum swayed back and forth as he did this. When he was done, he stood and observed as I finished getting naked. This naturally aroused me, and my erect penis elevated, hovering slightly above my testicles by the time I had put my clothing aside and stood upright, facing Russ. I peeked at his wide belly and spotted his sizable erection standing stiff, but not entirely erect - another large sock stuffed with sand.
Russ and I both made our way into the bag simultaneously, briefly bumping into each other while maneuvering, engaging in a comical dance like people trying to navigate obstacles in a corridor. Finally, Russ stepped aside, signaling for me to enter first.
Russ was now fully erect, and attempted to hunch over to conceal his erection. He knelt and gently settled beside me. This time I had chosen to face the center of the bag, providing a clear view of his hardness right in front of me. I was not shy about ogling his entire body as it maneuvered past me at close range. His flushed face betrayed his arousal as he attempted to dodge eye contact.
"So," I remarked, "what's the plan for obtaining some shut-eye tonight, knowing we're in the same situation?"
Russ continued to blush, panting faintly, whether from excitement or exhaustion, I couldn't tell. He bit his lower lip, hesitating.
"How about you," he eventually suggested, "lie down..."
Clearly he had intended to say more, but held back. I rolled onto my back and lifted my arms skyward, entwining my fingers behind my head. From my vantage point I observed Russ reach across the sleeping bag with his right hand, running it over my chest hair.
"You know," he murmured, stalling. "We've been trashing the sleeping bag a bit on this trip. What do you think about discarding it altogether? We could unzip it totally and leave it uncovered while we're done."
"Sure," I consented eagerly. I had no intention of denying myself the chance to see more of his naked form.
This involved more twisting and shuffling, both of us caught in the process. The bags had to be unzipped around the borders to free us. I ended in a kneeling position, with Russ above me. Both of our penises stood subtle yet erect. We both heaved slightly.
"May we turn the lamp on?" Russ asked ebulliently, reaching for the lamp affixed to the apex of the tent. "If it's not too awkward, I'd like to observe the proceedings this time."
"Of course," I confirmed, excited at the prospect of seeing more of him.
He flipped it on, and I settled back onto my back, fully exposed like we had been previously on the coastal island. I laced my hands above my head on the pillow. Russ lowered himself next to me on his side, supported by a pillow beneath his elbow. With his free hand he resumed his caresses of my chest and stomach hair, his eyes roaming down to my feet and back, pausing at my aroused genitals.
I took a deep breath in and out, slowing my racing heartbeat, considering the developments before me. The previous two occurrences had happened so expeditiously, it had hardly felt sexual. Tonight was different. Russ was naked and aroused, and the way he thoughtfully caressed my chest and nipples suggested a deliberate effort to prolong the experience for my satisfaction, rather than hastening our sexual release. He did not seem intent on rushing. He traced my stomach a number of times and spent more time nibbling my nipples. Finally, he descended below my stomach and explored the ticklish hollows to the right and left of my groin.
I jerked each time he caressed this area, and he smirked. "You're ticklish?"
I surely am," I acknowledged and flinched again in response as he rotated his fingers around either side of my groin. I gasped and snickered, "You're gonna make me cum," I chortled.
He partially sat up then, bending one leg beneath himself and liberating both his arms. "I guess I'm trying to do that," he smirked down at me, allowing my body to slide away from climax for a few moments. Then he commenced to scout my body for other ticklish spots. He aimed for the apparent first - my armpits - inserting his fingers and wiggling them downward to the fleshy areas of my chest. I broke into laughter, instinctively freeing my arms from behind my head and wrapping them around his hands.
"Shh-shh-shhh..." he cautioned me, "Walt and John might hear you."
He delved his fingers into my skin again where his hands were entrapped under my arms. I chuckled quieter laughter, starting to wriggle and maintain his hands captive. He ceased until I quieted down and plopped. He softly slid his hands from under my arms and transported them to my wrists, softly guiding them back to my head. I complied and weaved my hands behind my head again. I noticed that my penis had lost some of its girth with the interruption, drooping slightly but still half-erect. Just the thought revived blood flow and I experienced once more the delightful sensation of a growing erection.
As it increased, Russ planted his hands on the tips of my elbows, one on each side, and minutely drew them down the skin of the inferior surface of my arms toward my armpits. I could feel the skin of his palms and fingertips. They were the heavily textured fingertips of someone who uses his hands frequently, but not hard or heavily calloused. I had time to savor the delicate roughness, the ideal amount of masculine texture, as he ran them slowly past my armpits down my sides on either side. My entire body shuddered and I felt a wave of goose bumps skip across the entire surface of my skin. I closed my eyes and basked in the ecstasy of his palms gliding the entire length of me until he had to switch and move his hands to the opposite sides, where he continued from the sides of my butt down the exterior of my legs, until he clasped my feet. I opened my eyes again, fearing he was going to tickle the soles of my feet, my ultimate pitfall.
Perhaps he perceived my apprehension, and questioned, "Are your feet ticklish?" with a slyly mischievous voice tone.
"Quite," I replied.
He disentangled his hands and tenderly placed the pads of his fingers under there, lightly rubbing them up and down from heel to toes and back again. It didn't tickle as there was no pressure, but the skin almost burned with the subtle friction, and I felt the burn radiating up in my loins. It reminded me when John was polishing my penis when I was shackled, when I couldn't identify whether he was stroking my penis or the soles of my feet. There must be some neural connection there, some cloaked dermatome linking those two regions of sensitive skin in my thoughts. He continued to glide his fingers like that, generate heating with the burgeoning friction. I tensed, and felt the blaze blossom in both regions.
"You're going to make me cum," I gasped.
I had raised my mouth, and my respiration was deep and heavy as I attempted to not jizz instantly. He paused once more. My penis was tense, edging near the point, and I felt the warmth escalating, yet I managed to withstand, a scant spasm of pre-cum actually tearing weakly in a meager arc on the lower underside of my abdomen as I took deep calming breaths.
"Wow, I seem to have you right on the verge, don't I?" He re-established himself again, easing back next to me using one elbow, his head at the level of my waist, gazing at my edging erection sway to the tempo of my heartbeat as I hovered on the brink of an orgasm. I could practically feel each beat, like a finger rhythmically stroking the tip of my phallus - tap, tap, a vestige of a finger at the tip of my penis, tap, tap, tap.
Whenever he sensed that it was secure, he extended his hand over and stroked his fingertips lightly around my scrotum. The pores responded, and I sensed I was nearing my peak. He moved his fingers down beneath my sack to my perineum, and allowed them to go around, up over my scrotum and around it, whirling about to stimulate the entire surface of that fragile pouch of loosely wrinkled skin. I could feel the sack pull itself together, making the wrinkles smaller and more condensed, pulling my testicles in close. He position his whole hand over my testicles, warming the epidermis once more but remaining stationary for possibly ten or fifteen seconds. The hefty weight of his hand below me was tightening the skin of my penis, and it was standing upright out of the J-curve made by his thumb and forefinger, lewdestly throbbing with each heartbeat, fully erect and prepared to fire if he simply touched it, brushed it, breathed on it...
He held it there for another fifteen seconds. I was breathing in gradual, deep, regular breaths, enthralled, almost mesmerized, caught in the zone he had skillfully guided me into. My toes were semi-curled. My eyes half closed. My elbows drawn back almost touching the ground. My abdominal muscles semi-tensed. My buttocks drawn together. My hips poised for thrusting.
He dragged his hand upward and encompassed the entirety of my penis with his palm. His hand was vast enough to accommodate the whole length and girth comfortably. He pushed his fist down to the origin, pressing into my pubis, and the tip of my penis simply poked out beyond his thumb. The pressure constricted the skin of my erection.
He held my penis efficiently and freely, and pulled it upward once, and then back down once, compressing it tightly again.
He continued, narrowing his fingers bit by bit with each stroke, adding the smallest amount of friction each time. I reached my climax as he reached the foundation the fifth time. He recognized what was happening and stayed there, compressing the skin tightly. He held it firmly but gently as I began shooting squirt after squirt out of his hand and over my chest and abdomen.
I allowed my hips to thrust in conjunction with my ejaculation this time, pushing hard into his fist with each spurt. He chuckled, maintaining it statically for me, watching me hump his fist until my orgasm was exhausted. My semen oozed over his fingers, it trickled down the underside of my stomach and gathered above my crotch, I commenced to perceive tiny rivulets gradually dripping down my left and right hips to soak into the sleeping bag.
Russ continued to keep his hand motionless, securely gripping my penis after my last tiny twitch finished and I emitted a big sigh. I ushered my fingers back up and overlapped them towards my lower chest, at the superior edge of my midsection. My penis was softening in his palm, which was a strange sensation, one of confidence and willing submission. He massaged the softening flesh between his fingers, and my entire body quivered as his fingertips touched the glans. He halted, and relocated his hand to my testicles, which moved comfortably within my unfastened scrotum as he kneaded them for a few moments, my penis continuing to soften. I gazed at him and viewed a gentle, loyal, fatherly smirk.
"Thanks," I uttered.
"Any time," he replied, imparting it casually, with no suggestion of innuendo or anticipation that there would be another time. Calmly he rearranged my genitals, positioning my penis atop my scrotum again, then wiped his fingers off on my abdomen.
Laid out on his back, he stated, "I'm not anticipating that you'll do anything for me, in truth, that's not the reason I desired to sleep naked."
"I grasp," I acknowledged, turning over to face him, and elevating myself upwards on one elbow, "thanks." I elevated my left arm towards his chest nonetheless, eliciting a wince from him. I observed my penis was standing to full extension, affirming he was not in a condition to go to sleep yet.
"I can deal with that by myself, if necessary," he expressed. "I'll be able to snooze effortlessly."
"I grasp," I repeated, but retained my arm on his chest, stroking the hair there familiarly. He raised his hands up to interlace over his abdomen, developing a subdued obstruction between his ribs and his more privy regions. I brushed from side to side on either side of his chest, then experimented brushing one of his nipples, this causing him to flinch and half rasie his hands to halt me, but he replaced them over the apex of his abdomen and took a deep inhalation and exhalation to calm himself. I continued to be brushing primarily his chest fur, which was deep and silky and as sordid as I could have visualized. I operated my fingers as a brush through the snowy expanse of his chest. I distributed, then gathered the fingers deeply within the meadow of fur. I elevated the palm off his chest slowly, pulling the fur upward gently to stand on end, then curled my fingers and rolled them haphazardly around about his chest.
Inhaling deeply, Russ's lips adopted a loose attitude as his breathing intensified, accentuated by the lifting and falling of his chest and tummy. His stolen glance skyward remained distant.
Seizing his near wrist, I prompted him, "Why don't you adjust yourself, much like I did earlier," gesturing his wrist towards his head. He complied, lifting his arms, permitting them to rest above his head while keeping his eyes shut. I seized the chance to stroke his stomach broadly, descending slowly, and before ascending back to his upper torso. Proceeding southwards again, I tickled his groin, skirting his public region before ascending up his side until reaching his armpit. His reaction manifested in a slight twitch, though he persisted in maintaining his position.
Focusing on his groin, I mimicked his prior actions with my fingers circling him as he had to me. His respiration grew quicker as I inched closer to his genitals.
"I might not make it much further," he admitted, his husky tone connoting arousal; his eyes still closed.
Yet he endured considerably longer, gasping deep breaths and subtly moving his hips. He failed to let loose when I massaged his scrotum and traced my fingers along the underside of his penis, from the scrotum to the top. When each of the underside of his penis and his glans were free from my fingers, his saltation eventually occurred. Flailing helplessly beneath my touch, his quivering hips launched his body forward into my fist. I yanked my hand off his groin, which he still failed to withdraw, and pivoted it towards his waist. A few last pumps before he slumped back to the ground, wiped out and sighing with mild annoyance.
Sighting several strands of semen trailing through the fuzz towards the center of his belly. The longest, from his second explosion, meandered from his stomach crest to the thick fuzz, meandering at the intersection between chest and torso. The semen's viscous residue did not seep into his skin but adhered to the fur at the plunging cliff. My index finger collided with the beads of fluid, gliding on his sweat-soaked flesh. With his head turned away, he softly sighed and mumbled.
Instantaneously, I replaced my hand by gripping his erect penis again, emulating his earlier practice. He lowered his head onto his cushiong and unleashed a deep sigh. His erection slowly lost turgidity, folding inside my slender hand. Sliding it down to his testicles and performing circular motions, I joined the feeling of newly uncovered sensitivity with my index finger caressing the base of his organ. Raising my index finger, I found his scrotum to be touched, which accelerated his breaths and moans. His palm rested on my wrist, but I persisted without hesitation.
Buckling up his body under his trembling arms, he reached out to grasp me, but stopped midway, opting to allow me to continue. Rubbing his glans and hips, he started twisting and moving, clutching my arm tentatively. Pulling his hips forward, he made no objection while I massaged his scrotum. His penis transformed into a more robust mass. I practiced similar actions with the head of his organ, causing his body to arch and squirm. Back to rubbing his scrotum, his sexual fervor was reflected in a laugh and a confession.
"Ah, yes. You can proceed, but…" his outburst of pain followed my renewed frenzied hand-motion. Withdrawing my hand, he deposited another hand on my arm, oozing pain and discomfort.
"I mean, you can continue," he altered his statement. Appreciating the boost in friendly rapport, I did exactly that. Closing his eyes once more, while I massaged the head of his penis. He proclaimed, "Ooh man, are you sure? This is crazy!" before attempting to reach for another time, but halting his attempts as my fingers retained their contact.
Chuckling, he interjected, "You have never experienced this before?" superseding a potentially troublesome topic for him.
"No, oddly enough, it was a mishap awhile ago," I disclosed.
Unblinkingly accepting my admission, he said, "It's a peculiar experience, though it doesn't last long."
Notably surprise, rolling down his penis for a second examination, I lightly rubbed his head again, catching his enhanced girth and exhaustion. His skin adorned several globs of moist semen emulsified by hormones and friction, distributing minor pain with each rotation.
"You seem like you're preparing for more," I stated, but he couldn't speak back, there was only laughter, giggles, and squirming from him. His eyes were closed while tears fell down his face.
"Oh man, oh man," he continued, gasping in between laughter. And then he arched his back again.
He shouted out loudly then, arching his back and raising his butt in the air: "Oh my.... Holy.... Aarrggh!" the final roar almost felt like it was coming from him, and I could feel a few more ejaculations come out from between my fingers as he matched his hips' movement. His body once again fell back to the ground, his stomach wiggling with the sudden slump. I had ceased rubbing his overly sensitive glans during this second orgasm. I squeezed him one more time, resulting in the loudest shout to emerge yet, his hand rushed to grab my wrist.
"Enough, I surrender!" he panted, gasping for air again. "Phew!" He remained there, clutching my wrist with his left hand. I released his genitalia with my other hand, and he also released my wrist, allowing me to wipe my hands on his belly fur.
"This has never happened to me before," he gasped. "I didn't know I could orgasm twice in a row like that. Phew!" He lay on his back for a while, recovering his breath, rubbing his hands from his chest down to his legs, stretching, his toes spread apart. I observed his penis gradually decrease back to its thick flaccid form as his breathing slowed and he took a few deep, calming inhales.
"If I never sleep after this, then I'll never sleep again," he chuckled, looking at me with a satisfied grin.
Yet we didn't instantly fall asleep. We chatted about various topics as Russ stared at the ceiling with his arms crossed behind his head, and I lay beside him, my right arm under my head, my left hand resting on his stomach, dragging back and forth in his thick fur where the abdomen and chest merged. Just below his stomach, I could see the softer, gentler curve of his relaxed penis, pointing directly down and resting comfortably on his full testicles.
Eventually, Russ shifted to his side to face me, supporting himself on his elbow. I let my gaze fall down his chest to his belly, its path taking me slowly downwards. It was a new sensation not to hide what I was checking out.
"So, what's the catch between you and John?" he questioned.
It took me a while to realize and process Russ' inquiry; my eyes shifted from his genitalia to his chest. When his question registered, I nearly jumped with surprise, considering his question implied certain things between John and me.
"What are you referring to?" I asked, attempting to pretend innocence, appearing curious, not defensive. Russ probably didn't believe me.
Russ grinned a wise, paternal smile. "I've seen the two of you over the last few weeks - thick as thieves, if you could ever describe a large person in that way. And John always appeared to be up to something. Almost furtive, if you could ever describe John as furtive."
I could sense myself turning red, and my penis became instant erect from the mention of John and our circumstantial state. My heart raced. I'm uncertain if I articulated anything—probably an evasion, a counter question, or something else. Russ carried on regardless.
"And then on the way up here—what was that? John, placing us all in the back seat together? I detected what he was doing in the middle, between us. I also caught him tickling you when he believed I wasn't looking, rubbing your leg. I think I saw him squeeze your testicles, and you merely pretended as if nothing was occurring."
Russ examined me unrelentingly. "Is John using you? Does he have something over you?"
My gaze lowered once more, unintentionally fixating on his genitals again. They remained as they were earlier, his testicles settled in his loose scrotum, his penis lying thick and soft along the bend of his thigh. The contrast between that and my own aroused member was an unusual sensation that provoked trust within me. My racing heart started to calm as I considered revealing some things to this fatherly figure, lying idly on the ground in his complete nudity.
Russ softened his stare. "Look, I don't want to pry, and I won't pressure you, I simply want to ensure you're not trapped in something you don't want to be entrapped in. You can share with me, and it won't go beyond this tent. I won't discuss this with John if you don't want me to."
Over the course of just three days, Russ had managed to fill a void in my life that I hadn't even realized was empty. While I love my father and he always supported me, we had never discussed anything related to sex beyond watching a single educational video when I turned thirteen. I'm certain he had no clue about the feelings I harbored towards men. I suppose I was unfair in denying him the chance to express his affection or accept me in my entirety, including this hidden part of me that I'd kept to myself.
I've never felt truly comfortable undressed in front of him, and it seemed like he felt the same way about being seen nude. I had viewed John as a potential father figure in my life, but it was actually Russ who had started to take on that role in the past few days. He was there for me through each challenge, even fetching my underwear from the lake and apologizing for his behavior. He now wanted to ensure I was safe and cared for, even asking if I had been sexually assaulted. As a result, he had begun to develop into that person I'd hoped to form a relationship with.
Tears stung at my eyes as I thought back to the support Russ had provided. I scrambled to sit up and wiped them away, panicking as I realized I was about to divulge information that I wasn't sure I wanted to share. "John found me tied up naked on my bed," I stumbled out.
Honestly, I've never felt coerced into that situation by John. It was a fun, thrilling experience, laced with eroticism. But now, with Russ urging me to explain, I recognized that I did, in a way, feel forced. What had begun as a consensual game had shifted into me feeling as if I owed John something. While he probably didn't realize it consciously, his actions reinforced that idea.
Russ inched closer to me and sat down, mimicking the Indian style position. His agility amazed me. He rested his elbows on his knees and spread his legs further apart. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the gorgeous picture before me: a beautiful man with every feature I found attractive prominently displayed in perfect proportion. As I stared, my emotions overwhelmed me and I started to weep. I wasn't sure why my heart was aching, but having Russ draw it out of me made me realize I'd been trapped all along. The playful, erotic game with John had become something sinister.
Russ fixed a gentle smile on his face and waited for me to elaborate. "You mentioned you were tied up on your bed, naked," he said. I wondered if I had just confessed to the time John had discovered me playing with myself while restrained on my bed. My thoughts were jumbled as the memory returned. Had I just revealed this to Russ? My cheeks colored with embarrassment as I gazed down at my feet.
I took on the Indian style position, struggling to keep my legs crossed, my knees apart. I needed to hold myself upright by clinging to my ankles. My penis was erect, poking towards my stomach and my heels. In comparison to Russ's relaxed position, I seemed so awkward. He crossed his ankles and rested his forearms on the insides of his knees, presenting the most striking view of his body. His scrotum hung between his strong legs, holding his testicles inches from the ground. His penis hovered over his shadowed cleft, draped between two full balls.
Russ giggled, jiggling his stomach, making his genitals rock slightly. My eyes darted back to his face and I came back to reality. His eyes, filled with warmth and comfort, stared at me. "What were you saying?" he asked gently.
"I, uh, was just explaining my enjoyment of auto-eroticism and fantasizing about having someone else tie me up," I admitted, feeling more talkative than I could remember. I detailed the times I'd tied up myself and the scenes I'd imagined. I returned to the specific incident in which John had entered my room unexpectedly. And there it was: the source of my unruly emotions.
At the beginning of my narrative, I stole a peek and noticed that Russ was still fully limp. This revelation brought me a sense of comfort, making the story's retelling a more purifying act, building closeness between us as mates and buddies, and magnifying Russ's status as my paternal protector.
After listening intently to my description of the events, Russ remained mostly silent, abstaining from comments or queries. Upon finishing my recount, I was taken aback to discover that my own penis was also flaccid, hanging limp against my loose testicles.
"That's when you first realized how sensitive you became after climaxing, right?" Russ inquired. I concurred.
"Did you ever feel he was taking advantage of you during that night?"
"Not at all," I shook my head, "he constantly sought my consent with each succeeding step. And when he was atop me, playing his amusement game... man, I was thrilled by that. I was truly caught up in a dilemma, part of me wishing for him to halt, while the other part yearning for him to blatantly disregard my will."
"Yet, he gave you no real choice in the matter, didn't he?" Russ prompted.
"Well, I did give my consent," I responded hesitantly.
"Yes, but merely to halt his harassment."
"Perhaps so. Nevertheless, I feel that he would have ceased if he knew I was reveling in it too." I fibbed, coming to terms with my inner turmoil. Had I, in actuality, consented to the game, or not? "At the moment, I didn't feel coerced into it."
"How about now?" he asked, a thickened silence transpiring around us.
I gazed downward at the floor between us; the sounds of our respirations became audible. The night's chill had overtaken our tent, the crickets offering their evening songs. I stared intently at my lap.
Eventually, Russ spoke again, "I believe we ought to exit this covenant but your decision hinges upon you. I'll remain oblivious to this matter if that's what you prefer. I can pretend nothing took place if that's what pleases you. However, should you wish to discuss it, I'll do whatever necessary to free you from this commitment."
I contemplated my options before answering, realizing that I was too embarrassed to mention it to anyone else.
"I can't even figure out how to broach the topic," I shared.
Russ smiled, leaning back on his hands. "I'm entertaining a concept. Suppose we activate the termination clause- letting him tie you up and torment you for ten minutes?"
"I couldn't possibly endure," I retorted.
He stationed his hand on my knee. "I'll aid you through the ordeal, and if you can't resist, well- like I mentioned earlier- I'll do whatever it takes to disentangle you from this."
With newfound resolve, I continued. "There's one more thing I'd like to divulge."
Russ stretched his limbs above his head, weaving his fingers together, and arching his back, indicating he was also ready for sleep. He shook his head no to my unvoiced query.
I informed him of the initial challenge: allowing a male to see me naked in the showers. "Actually, it was just to expose myself without concealing my genitalia; the shower was just the easiest method."
"Hum, I'd always wondered about that," he admitted.
I unveiled the details of the first challenge and the subsequent second shower and the erection challenge.
Russ shook his head and chuckled, "Well, I might owe John a debt of gratitude for one of my most memorable showers. I suppose it was the first time I beheld another man's erection. I thought it perplexing, and, to be frank, it left me engulfed." He rubbed his testicles, conveniently hiding his act under the pretense of scratching his stomach.
"I, too, remember that as a memorable shower," I reminisced, blushing at the memory. "I'm grateful you didn't freak out, and I relished what I witnessed as well."
Russ blushed, averting his eyes. "I'll be honest too... that was the most enjoyable shower I've ever had. I was pleasantly taken aback by your feature, and... I must admit, it excited me somewhat," he gulped, adjusting himself, and summoning deep breaths to prevent himself from succeeding in his mission.
I observed his penile manipulation, hesitantly extending my hand to hover above his ankles, maintaining a respectful distance from his person. I glanced upwards to check if he was watching, and he was. Our eyes met. He nodded slightly.
I peered down at him and found he'd maintained his state, his breaths shallow and deliberate. Arching forward as much as possible, I steered my hand down and forward, between his legs, beneath his genitals, my palm turned up, fingers curled. With a soft brush of my fingertips, I grazed the underside of his testicles, and his penis surged upward. He tightened his knees and exhaled deeply, his penis rigged and erect, the tip swollen. It stood erect for several moments while he reacted to my touch, then his knees loosened and his penis receded, returning to its state of pointing directly out. He let out another sigh. A few dots of pre-cum trickled out to bead beneath his glans, then a single one settled onto the sleeping bag behind it, the connecting filament snapping and leaving a small dot under one of his glans.
"So you thought you were prepared to snooze," I chuckled.
He grinned. "I've already warned you about what transpires when I doze off while undressed. Look forward to similar instances if I don't don undergarments soon."
"Oh, let's leave it off a bit longer," I cheerfully suggested, "for there's one more thing I'd like to experiment with..."
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