I almost missed him, so fleetingly had I glimpsed him out of the corner of my eye as I drove past, but checking the rear vision mirror there he was, sitting cross-legged on an old gumtree stump by the side of the road, miles from anywhere. He seemed content but I thought I’d better at least check, knowing how far he was from the nearest town or farmhouse.
Pulling over I reversed back and wound down the window, leaning across to ask if he was in need of any assistance. He flashed a disarming smile as I pulled up beside him but made no move to unseat himself, clearly enjoying the dappled rays of the sun and the stillness of the day. I suddenly felt foolish and hoped that I hadn’t ruined this moment of tranquility for him.
The pause that ensued was all I needed to gain a clearer picture of this unexpected stranger. Forty-something, hair a tangle of dreadlocks piled high and hanging down over his shoulders and back, scruffy beard framing a sun-bronzed face, lean body barely concealed by a faded pink singlet and baggy grey harem pants, feet shod in a pair of collapsing sandals. Do we still call them “hippies”? Be still my heart.
He unfolded himself from his seat and limped over to the car, his midriff and hips nicely framed by the window, something heavy and possibly semi-erect moving about in the loose folds of his pants.
“Have you hurt yourself?” I inquired, struggling to refocus my attention. He leant against the car and peered in, a wave of sandalwood, sweat and musk wafting in with him. He laughed and looked sheepish, rubbing his right knee as if only just aware of the pain.
“I was hanging from a tree and twisted it somehow; nothing serious.” I decided not to ask.
“That’ll teach you!” was all I offered, laughing along with him. “You probably shouldn’t walk on it too much though. If you want a lift anywhere I’m happy to oblige.” He straightened up and looked around, as if expecting someone, or something.
“I was supposed to meet a friend here, but that was yesterday and I guess his plans must have changed. I might take you up on that offer, if you don’t mind.” I was unaccountably pleased with this and beckoned him into the front seat. He collected a small swag that he’d left at the base of the stump before settling himself into the car beside me, the swag thrown casually into the back.
His physical presence beside me, so close, felt suddenly overwhelming and I momentarily wondered if I’d done the right thing. As if sensing my concern he grinned boyishly and thanked me profusely for my kindness, giving me his hand (large and calloused), and introducing himself with the unlikely name of Oberon. The look on my face must have been a picture and he laughed out loud at my surprise.
“That’s right, the king of the fairies!” he announced, grinning with the absurdity of it all, giving me a quick royal wave to confirm that he was in on the joke.
“A great honour” I replied, nodding my head in due deference. “My name is Sean, a humble commoner I’m afraid.” We both laughed and relaxed with these formalities out of the way.
It became quickly apparent as we talked that he was headed nowhere in particular, and when I mentioned that I was on the way to my small cottage just outside Ballarat for a few days, he expressed some enthusiasm about joining me, which seemed the most natural thing in the world at the time.
Truth to tell, I was already smitten. His smell, his heat, his skin all seemed to envelope me in a physical embrace, and the fact that he appeared unaware of this seductive effect made it all the more powerful.
We had a way to go and he asked if he could stretch out (as much as possible in the confines of my car) and just shut his eyes for a few minutes. Pushing the seat back he put his hands behind his head and relaxed as I pulled onto the road and continued the journey.
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I was aware of a soft, slightly sharp odour filling my senses as we got underway, and stealing a glimpse at him I realised that it was emanating from the thick dark-blonde hair of his armpits which were on full display. If I hadn’t been busy dodging the potholes that dotted this backroad I may not have been able to resist burying my nose in that fragrant forest; as it was I inhaled deeply and allowed myself to lean discreetly towards him.
What was happening to me? It had been a while since I’d had sex (or even an erection, truth to tell), but my response to Oberon was catching me by surprise. He filled every space with his casual maleness, warm, thick, fragrant, utterly intoxicating. Sure, I was old enough to be his father but I was happy to overlook that fact and just enjoy the rush he was giving me.
Mind you, the boner in his pants didn’t help. I wasn’t sure if he was sleeping or just resting his eyes, but the loose fabric was tenting out like the big-top at Silver’s Circus, twitching siren-like as I attempted to pay attention to the road ahead. It was no use however, all too distracting, and after a short distance I pulled over into a clearing and stopped the car, not quite sure what to do next.
Stealing a glance at his face he seemed to be sleeping soundly. Soft moans were escaping his slightly parted lips, and it was all I could do to stop myself leaning over and kissing him. Looking down at his groin (impossible not to) a wet stain was beginning to spread across the front of his pants and the bulbous knob of his jerking, bobbing cock was clearly visible through the sodden fabric. His breathing had become rapid and his entire body was twitching slightly, as if alive with an electric charge.
Slowly his soft moans transformed into one long wail as his body squirmed and undulated with increasing intensity until he stiffened suddenly, and I knew that a point had been reached. Arching his back, a long deep cry escaped him, his hips convulsing as spurt after spurt of rich, loamy cum overwhelmed the faded fabric and seeped through the loose weave to form a thick white pool on the surface.
I looked at his face and his eyes opened, staring intently into mine, followed by a smile wholly lovely. He gently put his hand on the back of my head and pressed me down towards his mess, sensing how much I wanted to lose myself in it. A benediction as I buried my face in his groin, the smell of sweat and piss and cum overwhelming me, making me release in my jeans as I inhaled and licked and swallowed his wonderful gift.
I wanted to pull his pants down and take his spent flesh into my mouth, but the moment seemed too special to spoil. He did it for me, pushing down his waistband and allowing his semi-hard cock to slip easily into my mouth, where it was tended by me for I don’t know how long.
It’s a strange thing, while my face was buried in his lap, my nose deep in his bush, his cock still leaking into my mouth, my tongue exploring his head and shaft and thick rolled back foreskin, his full furry balls cupped gently in my hand, I lost all sense of time and felt disconnected from the world around me. I was consumed by his taste his smell his flesh his spirit, and reality disappeared.
He eventually fell back into sleep with his cock still in my mouth, and I must have followed him there, although I have no recollection of it. When I awoke he was slipping his now flaccid penis from my lips and softly telling me that it was getting dark, which it was.
Straightening up behind the wheel, my mouth full of his taste, his smell still thick in my nose, I rubbed my eyes and attempted to bring myself back to the moment. I watched from the corner of my eye as he tucked his penis back into his soiled pants, and I became aware of the mess in my own. I was feeling oddly self-conscious, almost embarrassed, and the silence between us was unnatural and heavy, threatening to spoil everything.
And then he leant over and, taking my face in his hands, planted the sweetest kiss on my lips since the beginning of time.
The magic returned. I started the car and headed for home.
