Steven leaned against the railing of his hotel balcony, the cool metal sending shivers down his bare arms. He took a long drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke mingle with the chilly morning air. The hotel patio was a quiet retreat, starkly contrasting the bustling streets he'd left behind in the city. The only sound was the distant hum of a lawnmower, cutting through the stillness like a dull knife.
As he exhaled, he glanced over at the neighbouring block of hotel rooms. The curtains fluttered gently in the early morning breeze, and a flash of movement caught his eye. A man in a pair of classic, tighty-whities had emerged onto his patio, mimicking Steven's stance. The man was tall, with a buzz cut that gleamed in the soft light, and his physique was a testament to a life well-lived. He spotted Steven and offered a knowing smile before taking a drag of his cigarette.
Steven felt a strange camaraderie with this stranger, both men sharing a silent nod of understanding as they stood in their underwear, savouring their first smokes of the day. The man took a step closer to the railing, leaning his elbows onto it with a casual ease. His thumbs-up was both unexpected and infectious, and before he knew it, Steven was grinning back, giving the gesture right back. It was as if they were two comrades in a secret club of early risers and hotel-dwellers, sharing a moment of quiet solidarity.
With a sudden pang of self-consciousness, Steven realized that his cigarette was almost finished. He flicked the butt over the edge of the railing, watching it arc through the air before disappearing into the lush greenery below. The smell of the freshly cut grass wafted up to him, mingling with the lingering scent of the tobacco. The lawnmower's hum grew louder, the groundskeeper making his rounds with meticulous precision.
The man in the Y-fronts chuckled, a sound that was both warm and a little sad. He nodded in understanding, then stubbed out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray. His eyes searched Steven's briefly before he turned and disappeared back into his room, the patio door swinging shut with a gentle thud. The moment of connection was over, but it had left a peculiar warmth in the pit of Steven's stomach.
Breakfast in the hotel's dining room was a buffet affair, the kind where the food was plentiful, but the conversation was not. The clinking of silverware and the murmur of distant TVs filled the space, creating a comforting ambience that was as predictable as the smell of the slightly burnt toast. Steven filled his plate with eggs, bacon, and a couple of slices of melon before finding a table by the window. He ate quickly, his thoughts already racing to the golf course. The anticipation of the game was like a caffeine rush, making his heart beat a little faster.
The moment he swallowed the last bite, he was up and out of his chair, plate cleared away with swift efficiency. He checked his watch – there was just enough time to squeeze in a round before the midday heat settled in. Heading towards the elevator, he couldn't help but feel a hint of excitement at the prospect of playing a round with a fellow early riser.
The golf reception was a sleek, wood-panelled affair, the kind of place that whispered of leisure and money. The attendant looked up as he approached, her eyes scanning his attire with the practised disinterest of someone who'd seen it all before. "Looking to tee off solo?" she asked, her voice a blend of polite curiosity and practised boredom.
"I was hoping to find a partner," Steven replied, his voice a little louder than he'd intended. The words hung in the air, and he felt a sudden rush of hope that the man from the neighbouring patio would appear, cigarette in hand, ready to join him.
As if on cue, the doors to the reception swung open, and the man from earlier strode in. He was now dressed in golfing attire, looking every bit the part with a crisp polo shirt and tailored slacks. His gaze swept the room, and when it landed on Steven, his face broke into a wide smile. "Fancy a round?" he called out, his voice carrying the same warmth as his earlier chuckle.
The receptionist's eyes darted between them; her curiosity piqued. "I see you've found your match," she said with a knowing smile. "Let's get you two set up."
The stranger sauntered over, extending a hand. "Name's Jack," he said, his grip firm and friendly. "And yes, before you say it, I noticed your... unique choice of morning wear." His eyes twinkled with good humour. "But I've seen worse. And by the way, I've got a set of those tighty whities in blue."
Steven felt his cheeks redden, but he couldn't help but laugh. "Steven," he said, shaking Jack's hand. "And I promise, it's not a regular habit."
Jack winked. "Well, Steve, I say we hit the greens before the heat starts to climb. What do you say?"
The golf course stretched out before them like a verdant canvas, the dew-kissed grass glistening in the early light. They made their way to the first tee, their clubs clinking together in a rhythmic cadence that seemed to promise a good game ahead. The air was filled with the scent of freshly mowed grass, and the occasional birdcall pierced the silence like a needle through velvet.
Jack stepped up to the tee first, his stance confident and relaxed. He swung his club with a grace that belied his age, sending the ball soaring in a perfect arc. It landed with a satisfying thunk on the fairway, bouncing a few times before coming to a rest. "Your turn," he said, stepping aside with a grin.
Steven took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. He'd never felt so nervous playing golf before, but then again, he'd never played with someone who'd seen him in his underwear at dawn. He took his stance, paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, and swung. The ball shot forward, not quite as elegant as Jack's but still a respectable start. They both watched in silence as it soared through the air, finally landing a few paces ahead.
The game began, and with each swing, their conversation grew easier and more natural. They talked of their lives, their loves, and their losses – the kind of talk that only seemed to happen when you were standing on a golf course at the crack of dawn with someone you'd just met. As they played, the tension of the morning's event slowly melted away, leaving only the joy of the game and the promise of a new friendship.
By the eighth hole, they were still the only souls brave enough to face the early-morning chill. The sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting long shadows across the immaculate greens. The air was thick with the scent of freshly cut grass, and the occasional birdcall echoed through the stillness. As they took a breather, Jack couldn't help but notice the label peeking out from underneath Steven's shirt.
"So, Steven," Jack said, his voice carrying a hint of teasing amusement, "why go for the Fruit of the Loom tighty whities when over here we're more of a boxer brief or Y-front kind of crowd?"
Steven paused mid-sip from his water bottle, eyeing Jack over the rim. "Well," he began, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips, "I guess I'm just a traditionalist. Besides, they're comfortable."
Jack chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Fair enough," he said, "but you're in foreign territory now. Might want to consider blending in." He gestured to his attire, a pair of well-fitted light blue Y-fronts peeking out from his golf trousers.
Steven rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "I'll think about it," he said, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "But for now, let's focus on this game."
"We can do that but part of me prefers to focus on your tighty whities. Tell you what, let's make a bet on this hole. The loser will drop his trousers for a good look and a grope" Jake responded.
Steven's eyes widened, and then he chuckled and nodded. "You're on," he said, the challenge in his eyes reflecting Jack's own.
They approached the ninth hole, the sun now a blazing ball of fire in the sky. The heat was intense, but their competitive spirits remained undeterred. Both men took their positions, the air thick with anticipation. The silence was broken only by the occasional buzz of a golf buggy in the distance.
Jack swung first, his ball flying straight and true, landing just shy of the hole. Steven took his shot, and to his surprise, his ball rolled to a stop just an inch closer to the hole. He couldn't help but let out a whoop of triumph but then realised Jack would have the first attempt to putt his ball.
Jack walked over to his ball put it and then turned to Steven. "Well played," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement. "But it seems you owe a forfeit."
Steven took a dramatic bow before dropping his golf trousers. Jack couldn't help but laugh as Steven's white tighty whities were revealed. The tension between them had shifted, becoming something playful and unpredictable.
Jack stepped closer; his eyes focused on the cotton fabric that clung to Steven's form. He reached out tentatively, his fingertips grazing the material. "May I?" he asked, his voice a low rumble of curiosity.
Steven nodded, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. The warmth of Jack's hand was surprising, his touch gentle as he cupped the firm orbs. "Nice," Jack murmured, his voice a mix of admiration and playfulness. "Just like golf balls. Perfect."
Steven's cock twitched at the contact, and he couldn't hold back a gasp. The sensation was strange but oddly arousing, the cool morning air contrasting with the heat of Jack's palm. He looked up to meet Jack's gaze, a silent question hanging between them.
"Thanks, Steve, I enjoyed that. Now, let's up the ante, the winner of the next hole gets to grope the loser with his underwear around his ankles."
Steven's heart raced as he pulled his trousers up, the fabric sticking briefly to his sweat-dampened skin. He couldn't believe they were going through with this, but something was thrilling about the absurdity of it all. They made their way to the tenth hole, the tension now palpable as they both knew what was at stake. The game had transformed from a friendly rivalry to a test of nerves, the prize of victory becoming increasingly alluring.
They both approached their balls with newfound focus, the challenge in the air as thick as the scent of sunscreen. The sun beat down on their backs, making the sweat run in rivulets down their spines. Jack took his shot, the ball landing with a satisfying thump on the green. Steven stepped up; his grip tight on the club. He took a deep breath and swung, watching as his ball curved slightly before landing just a few feet from the hole.
Their eyes met, and for a moment, it was as if the entire world had stopped spinning. They both knew what was on the line – not just the game, but a sudden, unexpected intimacy that had crept up on them like a sneaky fog. The heat of the day was now a living, breathing entity, wrapping around them like a warm blanket that neither wanted to escape from.
Jack took his turn, his putt a little too eager, the ball rolling past the hole. "Looks like you're up," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate deep within Steven's chest.
Steven took his time, lining up his shot with the precision of a sniper. His breath hitched as he swung, the ball rolling smoothly, dropping into the hole with a satisfying plop. He looked up to find Jack watching him, a smouldering look in his eyes that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
"Looks like you're going to have to pay up," Steven said, his voice low and smoky.
"Fine," Jack said, his voice a little shakier than he'd intended, looking around for signs of the players, noticing a dense thicket within easy reach. "Perhaps we should seek some cover over there."
Steven nodded and followed Jack as they both hurried over to the thicket, their golf shoes sinking slightly into the soft ground. Once hidden from view, Jack turned to face Steven, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I'm ready to pay my debt, are you ready to enjoy?"
Jack's hands went to his waist and with a swift movement, he dropped his golf trousers, revealing a pair of light blue Y-fronts that hugged him tightly. The fabric was stretched taut over his crotch, leaving nothing to the imagination. The colour matched his earlier claim, and Steven couldn't help but appreciate the confidence the man exuded, even in this unusual situation.
Jack stepped closer, and before Steven could react, his lips were on his, a kiss that was firm yet gentle, full of the promise of more. The heat between them was intense, their bodies pressing together, the fabric of Jack's underwear the only barrier whilst Steven remained fully dressed. Steven's cock responded eagerly to Jack's touch, growing harder against the confines of his tighty whities and trousers.
With trembling hands, Steven reached down and groped Jack's firm erection, feeling it pulse beneath the thin material. He tugged the waistband down a little, exposing the top of Jack's cock, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. The feel of Jack's skin against his own was electrifying, sending shockwaves of pleasure through him. He broke the kiss, panting, his eyes locked on the man before him.
Jack stepped back, his gaze never leaving Steven's. With a swift motion, he grabbed the hem of his polo shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it aside. His bare chest was a landscape of muscles and tattoos, each one telling a story that made Steven's heart race. "You're overdressed," he murmured, his eyes lingering on Steven's still-covered crotch.
Without another word, Steven complied, his shirt joining Jack's on the ground. He unbuckled his belt, his trousers falling to his ankles, revealing his tighty whities. Jack's eyes widened slightly; his gaze hungry as he took in the sight of Steven's erection straining against the fabric.
They moved closer to the fallen log, the bark rough against Steven's palms as he bent over it, his heart thundering in his chest. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. He felt Jack's hands on his hips, the fabric of the Y-fronts brushing against his skin as Jack pushed them down.
Jack's cock nudged at his entrance, and Steven tensed for a moment, the pressure both terrifying and exhilarating. Then, with one smooth stroke, Jack was inside him, filling him. The sensation was overwhelming, the pain giving way to pleasure as Jack began to move, his hips setting a rhythm that matched the beating of their hearts.
The sound of their skin slapping together was muffled by the surrounding foliage, the rustling of leaves the only soundtrack to their passionate encounter. Steven's moans grew louder, echoing through the thicket, as Jack's grip on his hips tightened, his thrusts becoming more urgent.
The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them and the raw, animalistic need that had overtaken them both. Steven's eyes squeezed shut, his knuckles white as he gripped the log, the smell of earth and sweat mingling with the sweet scent of the surrounding flowers.
Jack's breath was hot against the back of his neck as he whispered, "You're so tight, Steve. You feel so good." The words sent shivers down Steven's spine, his body responding in kind, his hips pushing back to meet each of Jack's thrusts.
Their movements grew more frantic, their breathing ragged as they approached climax. The sun was now a fiery orb in the sky, casting dappled light through the leaves above them, painting their bodies in shades of gold and green.
Jack's hand reached around to grip Steven's cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts. The added sensation was too much, and with a guttural moan, Steven came, his release hot and sticky, shooting forward and landing on the log. The feeling set off a chain reaction, and with a final grunt, Jack followed, his cock pulsing deep within him.
They remained there for a moment, bodies entwined, panting and sticky with sweat. The world slowly came back into focus, the sounds of the golf course a distant hum that seemed a world away from their secret oasis. They pulled apart, their eyes meeting with a shared look of shock and excitement. They both knew that this was the start of something they hadn't expected, a connection forged on the green and solidified in the thicket.
With trembling hands, they helped each other get dressed, the fabric of their clothes sticking to their damp skin. The cum in Steven's tighty whities was a reminder of the raw passion that had just transpired, a sticky warmth that seemed to cling to him as he stepped into his trousers. They both laughed nervously as they tucked in their shirts and straightened their collars, trying to compose themselves for the rest of the day.
Jack spoke first, his voice still a little raspy from their encounter. "Alright, Steve, let's finish this round," he said with a smirk. "But after that, I've got a much more... private... game in mind." His hand grazed the small of Steven's back, sending a shiver of anticipation through him.
Steven managed a nod, his voice a little hoarse. "Sounds good," he said, his thoughts racing with images of what that "serious fun" might entail. He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face, feeling a giddiness that was as surprising as it was exhilarating.
They teed off again, their swings a little looser, their steps a little lighter. The game had become secondary to the thrill of their newfound attraction, but they played it out with a sense of camaraderie that was as intoxicating as the earlier tension. The sun grew higher, beating down on their necks and shoulders, but neither of them complained, the warmth a reminder of the passion they'd just shared.
As they approached the final hole, Jack's hand slipped into his pocket and pulled out a key card. "Room 213," he said, his voice low. "Meet me there after we finish up."
Steven took the key card, his heart racing. He couldn't believe what was happening, but he didn't want to question it. He just nodded, his eyes never leaving Jack's. They sank their final putts, the game forgotten amidst the promise of what was to come.
They walked back to the clubhouse in a daze, their conversation stilted, filled with awkward laughs and glances that spoke volumes. The other golfers gave them strange looks, but they were in their world, one filled with the scent of sex and the thrill of the unknown.
Once they were alone in Jack's room, the tension snapped like a tightly stretched rubber band. They tore at each other's clothes, the fabric coming away in a flurry of movement. They stumbled onto the bed, Jack's hands roaming over Steven's body, exploring every inch of his skin with an insatiable hunger.
Their kisses grew deeper, more demanding, as Jack's mouth travelled down to Steven's chest, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh of his nipples. Steven gasped, his cock hardening again, already eager for more. He could feel the wetness of Jack's mouth as he kissed his way down to the tighty whities, the cum now a drying stain against the fabric.
Jack's teeth tugged at the waistband, pulling the tighty whities down to reveal Steven's cock, now standing proudly at attention. He took it into his mouth, the wet heat of his tongue sending shockwaves through Steven's body. The sensation was intense, the feeling of being wanted, of being desired by this stranger-turned-lover, overwhelming.
Steven's hands found their way into Jack's hair, his fingers tangling in the short strands as Jack's mouth moved in a rhythm that was both soothing and maddening. The sounds of Jack's slurps and moans filled the room, a symphony of pleasure that made Steven's toes curl. He could feel himself getting closer, his body tightening like a coiled spring, ready to release.
With a final gasp, Steven came, his hot cum filling Jack's mouth. Jack pulled back, swallowed with a satisfied smile, and then leaned in to kiss him, sharing the salty taste. Their bodies were slick with sweat, their hearts beating in time with each other's. Without a word, Jack rolled over, his cock now standing at attention, glistening with pre-cum.
The air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, a heady perfume that seemed to intoxicate them both. With a gentle push, Jack had Steven straddling his hips, the remnants of their earlier encounter acting as a slick bridge between them. Steven took a deep breath, the anticipation making his heart race, and then lowered himself down, feeling Jack's cock breach him again.
The initial burn was swift, replaced by a warm, full feeling that was both familiar and exhilarating. They moved together in a dance that was as ancient as it was new, their bodies speaking a language that was all their own. Jack's hands gripped Steven's hips, guiding him, urging him deeper, faster.
Steven threw his head back, the muscles in his neck straining as Jack's cock hit all the right spots, sending waves of pleasure crashing through him. He could feel his orgasm building again, a second wave ready to break over him. He braced himself, his knuckles white against Jack's shoulders, as he rode the tide.
Jack's grip tightened, his breaths coming in short pants. "Fuck me, Steve," he groaned, his voice a ragged whisper that sent shivers down Steven's spine. "I'm going to come."
And with that, Steven felt Jack's body tense, his cock pulsing within him, filling him with warmth. They remained connected, their bodies still moving together in the aftermath of passion, the intimacy of the moment stretching out like a warm embrace.
Their breaths mingled, their hearts pounding in unison, as they stared into each other's eyes. The line between friendship and something more had been blurred, the boundaries of their relationship forever changed by the events of this morning.
They lay there, entwined, the sticky warmth of their bodies a testament to their passion. The golf game had become a distant memory, a prelude to the main event that neither of them had anticipated. The sun had moved across the sky, casting a soft glow into the room, painting their bodies in a warm, golden light.
Jack's hand trailed lazily over Steven's back, his touch tender and loving, as he whispered, "You know, I think we might just have to make this a regular thing."
Steven smiled; his heart full. "I'd like that," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. And as they lay there, the quiet hum of the air conditioner the only sound in the room, they knew that their lives had just taken a turn for the extraordinary.
