The morning air was crisp as the salmon river rushed by, a constant companion to the surrounding wilderness. The sun peeked over the horizon, sending shafts of light dancing through the trees as it climbed the sky. The river's banks were lined with a dense carpet of greenery that grew thick and untamed.
Steven took a deep breath, letting the coldness of it fill his lungs and wake him up. He'd been here before dawn, his favourite time of day to fish. The water was clear, hinting at the secrets it held beneath its surface. The line in his hand was taut as he cast it repeatedly, sending the fly skimming gracefully over the water each time. This was salmon fishing at its best.
The fly he used was a meticulously crafted imitation of a Mayfly, a local delicacy for the salmon and his grandfather had taught him the art.
Steven's head snapped up having been so focused on the fishing as a young man, maybe in his mid-twenties, with a scruff of a beard and clothes that looked more suited to a hike than fishing, emerged from the underbrush. His curiosity was clear, his eyes wide and questioning as he moved closer to the fisherman’s position. "What are you doing?" he called out, his voice carrying over the water.
The suddenness of the question startled Steven. He turned, his line still in the air, and took in the stranger's appearance. The man looked harmless enough, but the way he held himself suggested a certain wariness. "Fishing," Steven replied, his voice calm and measured.
The young man's eyes grew even wider. "In your underwear?" he exclaimed, a touch of incredulity in his voice.
Steven looked down at his Fruit of the Loom tighty whities and chuckled. "Long story," he said, reeling in his line. "But let's just say I'm not dressed for company. What brings you out here anyway?"
The stranger took a step closer to the river standing on the edge of the bank, his gaze shifting from the fly to the water. "Just passing through," he said, his voice a little less steady. "I've never seen anyone fish like that before."
"Well," Steven said, his smile fading as he took in the man's unease, "I know it's not every day you see a guy in his skivvies trying to land the big one but today’s your lucky day because, here I am so I guess it’s a first for you." He paused, his hand tightening around the line. "Is there something you need?"
The man looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. "I'm lost," he admitted, his voice dropping. "Could you help me find my way back?"
"Depends on where you wish to go," Steven responded to his request for help. "Being lost can be emotional or geographical," Steven continued with a hint of sarcasm.
The young man took a step closer, his eyes darting around the woods as if expecting something to jump out. "Geographically," he said with a nervous laugh. "I've been walking for hours and can't find the trail."
"I guess you are doing the big hike from coast to coast."
The young man nodded, "Yeah, I'm Mike, from Vancouver. I started three weeks ago but took a detour to follow the river."
"Well, it's not a bad river to follow but it flows from East to West and you don't want to go that way I take it?" Steven pointed out.
Mike's face fell. "I guess not." He scratched his beard. "I just wanted to see something different, you know? Get off the beaten path."
"Well, I can confirm you have seen something different, but I tell you what Mike, let me finish what I'm doing and afterwards I shall point you in the right direction assuming you are not in a rush."
Mike nodded eagerly, "That's great, thank you."
Steven turned back to the river, casting his line with renewed focus. The fly arced through the air, the tippet singing a delicate tune as it unfurled. Mike sat down on the riverbank, watching the scene unfold with a mix of fascination and apprehension. He couldn't help but steal glances at Steven's bare legs, the muscles flexing with each cast. He had never seen someone so at ease in such an unusual situation.
Mike's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden splash, and he watched as a salmon breached the surface, its silver scales flashing in the morning light. The line went taut, and Steven's body tensed as he reeled in his catch. The salmon fought valiantly, leaping and twisting, but Steven's experience won the test of strength. With a final heave, the fish lay at his feet, gasping in the fresh air. Mike couldn't hide his amazement. "That was incredible," he murmured.
"Easy when you have time and patience," Steven commented to Mike who by this time was also looking at Steven's bulge in this tighty whities.
"It's all about reading the water," Steven explained as he unhooked the salmon, his hands quick and sure. "You've got to know where the fish are hiding." He held the salmon up for Mike to admire before placing it gently into the basket at his side.
Mike nodded, his eyes wide with wonder. "I've never seen anything like it," he said. "How did you learn to do that?"
Steven chuckled, wiping his hands on a towel. "Years of practice," he said. "And a few good teachers. But let's talk about you, Mike. What's your story?"
"I don't have much of a story, to be honest, sort of lost I think hence why I’m walking coast to coast in the hope of finding something. Tell you what though, perhaps you could teach me how to fish like you."
Steven considered the proposal for a moment. "All right, I'll show you the basics," he said finally, a hint of amusement in his voice. "But you're going to need some gear and clothes. You can't fish in those."
Mike looked down at his hiking boots and jeans, a blush creeping up his neck. "Right," he mumbled, standing up and brushing off his pants. "That might be tricky since I don't have much to wear and certainly nothing suitable for fishing."
"Well, you could consider doing as I do if you don't mind or feel shy."
Mike looked at him with a puzzled expression. "You mean fishing in my underwear?"
Steven couldn't help but laugh. "Well yeah. What do you think I was talking about," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "But if you're not up for it, you will just have to get your jeans wet by wading in."
Mike looked at him incredulously. "Don’t you get complaints from the neighbours fishing like that in the wilderness?"
Steven looked around looking for all the spectators who might wish to complain. “Just looking for the neighbours in this wilderness…. hold on, nope, no one around to complain unless they got lost as well.”
Mike smiled at that comment. “Yep, I get it. It’s just you and the trees.”
“Sure thing Mike because I own the river for a ten-mile stretch. The family bought the land and the river over a hundred years ago and every spring I come back up to enjoy the life where I can just be myself with the occasional trip into town for supplies.” Steven answered Mike’s observations.
Mike stood on the bank wondering what to do. “Well, what are you going to do? Wet Jeans or not?” Steven asked.
“Fuck it, why not,” the man responded as Mike put his backpack on the grass and started to remove his hiking boots. Steven watched the man’s efforts to get out of his hiking gear, enjoying the moment when he lost his balance with one leg in the jeans and the other out. With a chuckle, Steven noted the man was wearing bright-coloured boxer briefs and had strong thighs from what he could see.
“Bright underwear young man,” Steven commented. “A bit bright for my liking and you might leave the salmon confused if you’re not careful.” Laughing out loud.
Mike chuckled in response as he carried on getting undressed until he stood before Steven in his shirt and underwear ready to step into the river. "So, what now?"
"Now, you learn," Steven said, inviting Mike into the water and handing him the bamboo rod.
Mike took the rod tentatively, his eyes on the line that danced in the air as Steven demonstrated. "It's all in the wrist," Steven murmured, standing close behind him. He placed his hands on Mike's waist, steadying him, and guiding him through the motions. The warmth of his touch was surprising against the chilly water of the river.
The first few casts were clumsy, the line tangling around Mike's feet and the fly landing with a plop rather than a graceful skim. But with each try, he felt his form improving, his body moving in time with the river's rhythm. He could feel Steven's eyes on him, watching his progress with a knowing smile. The sun had fully risen now, casting a golden glow over the water and painting the leaves of the trees with a gentle warmth.
Steven surveyed the situation. "The sun's up now and it's too warm for the fish so perhaps we should take a break and have a smoke on the bank. What do you think my friend?"
Mike nodded, grateful for the respite. He followed Steven out of the water to sit on a fallen log, the early morning dew almost gone from the growing warmth of sunlight. Steven pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his fishing bag, offering one to Mike, who took it with a grateful smile. They sat in companionable silence for a moment, smoking and watching the river flow by. The tension from Mike's earlier fears of being lost had begun to ease, and he felt a strange sense of comfort in the company of this peculiar, yet skilled, fisherman.
"So, Mike, tell me more of your story."
Mike took a drag on the cigarette, watching the smoke mingle with the mist rising off the river. "Not much to tell, really," he began, his voice quiet. "I just needed to get away, you know? Life was feeling too... too much. I figured walking across the country would help me find myself."
Steven nodded, his eyes never leaving the water. "I can understand that," he said, his voice thoughtful. "Sometimes you just need to get lost to find what you're looking for."
Mike took a deep breath, the scent of the river and the cigarette mingling in the mid-morning air. "What about you?" he asked. "What brings you out here every day?"
"I guess the freedom and peace living out here. Besides, I get to do what I want when I want and that includes fishing in my tighty whities. You can't do that in the big city, can you?"
Mike laughed, a little too loudly, the sound echoing through the forest. "No, definitely not," he agreed.
Steven continued his explanation. “You can’t live here in winter. It’s too cold and the snow closes the valley for about three months but in spring I come up here and make my home until late autumn. It’s a perfect way of living in this mad world but I always leave before the first snow of winter.”
Steven stood and stretched his arms out, the muscles in his back rippling as he reached for the sky. The tighty whities clung to him, leaving nothing to the imagination as Mike couldn't help but enjoy the scene before he looked away, feeling a strange mix of awe and embarrassment.
"So, Mike," Steven said, his voice breaking the silence. "I figure you're not in a rush, are you?"
Mike looked at him, the cigarette smouldering between his fingers. "I guess not," he replied slowly. "My schedule is pretty loose."
"Good," Steven said with a nod. "Why don't you stay with me for a couple of days? I've got a nice cabin not too far from here. You can rest up, I'll teach you to fish properly, and we'll get you back on track if that sounds like a plan you can enjoy?"
Mike looked at him, a spark of hope lighting up his eyes. "Really?"
"Sure," Steven said, his smile warm and genuine. "It's not the Ritz but it's dry and it's got a decent bed, plenty of food and a log fire that keeps you warm. I also suspect you look like you could use a decent meal."
Mike looked down at his own hands, the knuckles white where he gripped the cigarette. He hadn't eaten since the day before, and the thought of a real meal was tempting. "Thanks," he murmured. "I'd like that."
Steven clapped him on the shoulder, his hand warm and firm. "Great," he said, his eyes gleaming. "Let's pack up and get going. I'll show you the ropes and perhaps you fancy chopping some wood if you can spare the time."
Together, they grabbed the fishing gear and the basket that contained dinner Mike assumed, as Steven pointed out the way to his cabin, a medium-sized but cosy-looking structure nestled among the trees.
As they approached, Mike could see smoke curling out of the chimney, hinting at warmth and comfort within. The cabin looked like something out of a storybook, with its wooden walls and moss-covered roof. The door creaked open, revealing a home larger than expected with suitable furnishings, a crackling fireplace in the lounge and a well-appointed kitchen. Off to the left was a hallway that suggested more living space yet to be seen.
"Here's your bedroom," Steven said, leading Mike down the hall. "It's not much, but it's home." The room was sparse, with a single bed and a dresser. The bed was neatly made with a threadbare quilt folded at the end.
Mike stepped inside, his eyes taking in the simplicity of the space. The floorboards were worn, but clean, and the air smelled faintly of woodsmoke and something else, something that reminded him of his childhood. "It's perfect," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Steven nodded, his eyes scanning the room with a critical eye. "It does the job," he said with a shrug. "It's all I need."
Mike looked around, feeling a little overwhelmed. "I, uh, I get that, and it suits me well," he admitted. "I had most of my gear stolen the other night leaving me with the clothes on my back and some personal possessions that I managed to hide from the miscreants who robbed me."
Steven's expression grew serious. "You had a run-in with some trouble?"
Mike nodded, his eyes dropping to the floor. "Some guys took my large backpack while I was asleep. They didn't hurt me, but they took everything I had."
Steven's face darkened with a flash of anger. "I'm sorry to hear that, Mike." He paused, his gaze lingering on Mike's dirty clothes. "Why don't you get out of those things, and we can get them washed and then they can dry by the fire? You can borrow some of my clothes while you're here."
“You have a washing machine?” Mike asked.
“Yep, I have thank God. The best purchase ever was the generator that supplies the power and pumps the water from the well.”
Mike was impressed as he started to strip off his remaining clothes, looking forward to wearing clean clothes for the first time in a few days.
Steven left the bedroom and after a couple of minutes, he returned, handing Mike a pair of dungarees, a flannel shirt, some tighty whities, socks, and a nightshirt. "Hope these all fit you, Mike."
Mike took the clothes with a grateful smile. "Thanks, Steven. I appreciate this,"
Mike pulled on the flannel shirt swamping him with its size but the tighty whities fitted well enough as he picked up the dirty clothes and walked into the kitchen finding the washing machine door open waiting for him to make a deposit.
Mike felt a little self-conscious but also a strange sense of liberation as he stood there turning on the machine watching the cycle begin at forty degrees as the smell of coffee became the object of his attention.
Steven was standing on the back porch having a cigarette as Mike took in the sight of his host looking fit and healthy in his tighty whities. Mike poured himself coffee and joined Steven on the back porch.
Side by side they stood, taking in the view and peace of the wilderness in which the cabin stood as Mike took the cigarette being offered with a "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Steven said, taking a long drag of his cigarette. "It's not every day someone stumbles into my life looking for a bit of guidance and a place to crash. Besides, it gets a bit lonely out here sometimes." He looked at Mike, his eyes noting that Mike wasn't wearing the dungarees he had been given. "You know, it's a good thing you found me I think," as his hand brushed against Mike's bottom and the cotton material of his borrowed tighty whities.
Mike felt a shiver run down his spine, a mix of cold and something else, something unfamiliar but welcome. He looked at Steven, the man's gaze holding his own, and for a moment, the air between them was charged with an energy that made Mike's heart race. He took a sip of the hot coffee, the warmth spreading through his body, chasing away the last of the cold. "Yeah," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "It is."
"I've never been in a situation quite like this before," Mike admitted, his eyes drifting to the cigarette between his fingers. "I don't even know what to do."
Steven leaned against the porch railing, his gaze on the river in the distance. "You don't have to do anything," he said, his voice calm. "Just be you. That's all anyone can ever ask. Just feel happy with yourself and how you feel. Most people spend their entire life running away from their feelings and sometimes, people run away to find the answers they seek. Ultimately, it’s all about acceptance you cannot change what and who you are."
Mike took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the world slipping away with each exhale. He moved closer to Steven, his hand brushing against the man's thigh. The muscles under the fabric of the tighty whities were firm and warm and for Mike, something he wanted to explore.
Steven stood there leaning against the porch railing enjoying the first intimate touch from anyone in months hoping that Mike's fingers would travel a bit more.
"You know Mike, sometimes the best things in life are found when you're not looking for them," Steven said. He could feel the heat of Mike's touch even through the fabric of the tighty whities and his cock began to stir.
“Tell me Mike, what are you running away from? Everyone has a story.”
Mike was silent as he thought about the question Steven had just posed and whether he could be honest with his newfound friend. “I don’t quite know how to say it, but I decided to come out as bi and my wife didn’t take it well to the point that she kicked me out and started divorce proceedings leaving me homeless and facing huge legal bills.
Mike took a step closer, his hand now resting on the wood of the porch railing. "I was wondering," Mike continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "if you've ever shared this... home with anyone else."
Steven turned to face him, his eyes dark with something that could have been desire or challenge. "Can't say I have recently but I have in the past," he replied, taking a drag from his cigarette. "But I'm not opposed to new experiences with new friends if that’s what you are asking." Taking a step closer to the hiker, their bodies almost touching. "Are you?"
Mike's heart was hammering in his chest. He had felt this way before of course but not with a man he hardly knew and had only just met, but something about Steven made him want to explore this uncharted territory. He took a deep breath and leaned in, his hand sliding up to cup the growing bulge belonging to the fisherman.
Steven's eyes widened slightly, but his expression remained neutral. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and tossed it in the ashtray, allowing the moment to stretch out between them, filled with anticipation. He didn't move away, didn't push Mike away, instead his hand came to rest on Mike's shoulder.
Mike took that as a sign as he dropped to his knees in front of Steven, his own heart thumping in his chest like a drum. His hands trembled slightly as he gripped the waistband of the tighty whities and pulled them down. The cotton fabric slid over the firm mound of Steven's cock, revealing the circumcised head, already swollen with arousal.
Without a word, Mike leaned forward and took the tip of Steven's cock into his mouth, his tongue flicking out to taste the salty precum that had beaded at the tip. The man above him sucked in a sharp breath, his hands coming to rest on Mike's head. The scent of the river and the earth mingled with the musk of arousal, and Mike felt a strange, primal hunger awaken inside him.
He took more of Steven into his mouth, his lips stretching around the girth as he began to suck in earnest. The head of the cock was hot and hard against his tongue, and the sounds of pleasure that Steven was making were music to his ears. Mike's cock grew in response, pressing against the fabric of the borrowed tighty whities.
Steven's hips began to rock gently, guiding Mike's movements as the young man grew more confident. Mike's eyes were closed, lost in the sensation of giving pleasure, his hands now gripping Steven's thighs to keep him steady. The noises that filled the cabin grew louder, the wet sounds of Mike's mouth and the occasional groan from Steven's throat.
Mike felt a hand on the back of his head, guiding him deeper, and he took the invitation eagerly. He took the entire length of the cock into his mouth, feeling the veins pulse against his tongue. His throat muscles contracted around the shaft as he tried to swallow more, his nose buried in the dark thatch of pubic hair as his hand now played with the man’s balls.
Steven's breathing grew ragged, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought to keep his composure. The sensation of Mike's mouth on him was too much, the warmth and wetness overwhelming in the best way possible. He could feel his orgasm building, a tension coiling in his belly like a spring ready to snap.
Mike's hands roamed up to Steven's waist, his fingers digging into the firm flesh as he worked the cock in his mouth. The tip of his cock was poking out of the fly hole of the tighty whities now, straining against the fabric as he grew increasingly aroused.
Suddenly, Steven's hand tightened in Mike's hair, and he knew he was close. He redoubled his efforts, sucking and licking with a desperation that was new to him. He could feel the muscles in Steven's thighs tightening, the cock in his mouth swelling even more.
With a guttural groan, Steven came, his hips bucking as he filled Mike's mouth with his seed. Mike swallowed eagerly, the taste of salt and musk overpowering. He looked up at the man he had just pleasured, his eyes wide with a mix of wonder and satisfaction.
Steven looked down at him, his chest heaving with exertion. He reached down and gently helped Mike to his feet, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Well," he said, his voice a little rough. "That was unexpected."
Mike felt his cheeks flush, but he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. "I've never done that before to a stranger I have just met," he admitted. "But it felt... right."
Steven leaned in; his breath warm against Mike's ear. "You're a natural," he murmured. "And if you stick around, I'll teach you a few more tricks."
Mike's heart skipped a beat, his cock still hard against the cotton material. "I'd like that," he whispered back, his eyes locked on Steven's.
They stood there for a moment, the air thick with unspoken desires and the promise of more to come as Steven stepped out of his tighty whities that nestled at his ankles with the fire crackling in the background, the only sound in the cabin aside from their heavy breathing.
Finally, Steven broke the silence. "Why don't you go clean up?" he suggested, his hand giving Mike's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I'll make us some breakfast but before breakfast, I think I need to deal with your plight," as Steven touched Mike’s cock erect and cried out for attention.
Steven lowered Mike’s tighty whities and started to massage his cock, rubbing the hardness of the shaft as the man started to masturbate his visitor. Mike just stood allowing the man to juggle his balls between his fingers as Mike started to feel the sensation of his growing climax. Steven then used his other hand to pinch Mike’s nipples as he kissed the younger man.
They stood together kissing as Steven continued to rub his shaft until he could feel the hiker tense with growing tension. Steven pinched the other nipple as his mouth was engaged in a deep kiss, feeling the tension as Mike couldn’t hold back and shot his load onto Steven's groin and hand. Steven kept going as Mike shot more cum in ropes of warm cum until he was left with just a dribble that Steven played with on the tip of his cock.
“Feel better Mike? I certainly do.”
Mike nodded, his legs feeling a bit wobbly. “Thank you, Steven. “I guess I should get cleaned up for breakfast now as you suggested,” making his way to the bathroom, his mind racing with the implications of what had just happened. He had come to the cabin looking for directions and a warm bed, but it seemed he had found much more than that.
As he stepped into the shower, the water cascading over his body, Mike couldn't help but replay the events of the last few minutes. The intimacy of the moment washed over him like a wave of warmth, leaving him feeling both excited and slightly embarrassed. He had never felt this way about a man before, but there was something about Steven that was undeniably alluring.
Mike let the hot water wash away the last traces of the river and the sweat of their encounter. His thoughts swirled like the water around his feet as he tried to make sense of his feelings. He had always thought of himself as primarily straight with bi tendencies, but here he was, in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, having taken a cock in his mouth and a strange sense of belonging whilst afterwards receiving an enjoyable wank that was just what he needed at that moment in time.
Steven's touch had been firm yet gentle, guiding him in a surprisingly comforting way. The way he had offered him the cigarette, the way he had talked to him, it was as if he knew exactly what Mike needed to hear. And now, as he cleaned himself up, he found himself looking forward to the rest of the day, to spending more time with the mysterious fisherman.
When he emerged from the shower, the cabin was filled with the scent of bacon and eggs. The smell of breakfast was a welcome comfort, grounding him in reality. He pulled on the dry clothes Steven had given him, feeling a little self-conscious in the oversized dungarees and shirt. But the tighty whities felt surprisingly right and more comfortable than his boxer briefs.
He padded into the kitchen, his bare feet silent on the wooden floorboards. Steven looked up from the stove, naked with a spatula in hand, and gave Mike a wink. "Hungry?" he asked, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a knowing smile.
Mike's cheeks flushed as he took a seat at the table, his cock still half-hard. "Yeah," he said, his voice a little too loud in the small space. "I'm starving."
They ate in silence for a while, the only sound the scrape of forks on plates and the occasional pop from the bacon. Mike felt like he should say something, anything to break the tension, but his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts.
Finally, Steven spoke up. "So, Mike, tell me more about this journey of yours. What's driving you?"
Mike took a deep breath, his gaze on the half-eaten eggs in front of him. "I don't know," he admitted. "I guess I just needed to get away. To find something... or someone."
Steven nodded, understanding in his eyes. "We've all got our reasons," he said. "But sometimes, the thing we're looking for is right in front of us the whole time."
Mike looked up, meeting Steven's gaze. "What do you mean?"
"You've found your way here," Steven said, setting his plate aside. "To me, to this place. Maybe this is where you're supposed to be." He leaned across the table, his hand reaching for Mike's. "And maybe, just maybe, you've found something in me that you didn't even know you needed."
Mike felt his heart race as their fingers touched. The warmth from the stove was nothing compared to the heat that was building between them. "What happens now?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Steven's smile grew. "Whatever you want," he said, squeezing Mike's hand gently. "We'll fish, we'll eat, we'll talk, and we'll explore."
Mike nodded, feeling a sense of peace settle over him. "Okay," he murmured. "Let's do that."
Without a word, Steven leaned in, his hand finding Mike's, "Yes, let's do that but before we do, I want to make love to you."
Mike's eyes widened, the proposal catching him off-guard. "What?" he managed to choke out, his hand still in the firm grip of the man who had just brought him to his knees with pleasure.
"You heard me," Steven said, his voice low and seductive. "I want to show you how much I appreciate your company, and I think this is the perfect way to do it." He stood up, the chair scraping against the floor as he did so. His naked form was lit by the sunlight, casting shadows that danced across the cabin walls as Mike stared at the man’s huge erection awaiting satisfaction.
Mike's heart raced as he looked up at him, the man's confidence, and desire impossible to ignore. He felt a strange mix of fear and excitement as he nodded, his voice barely a murmur. "Okay," he said, his voice shaking slightly, “but I’ve never been with a man before.”
Steven reached out a hand and helped Mike to his feet, the warmth of their palms melding together. “That’s okay Mike, I will take it easy, and you will enjoy it, trust me,” as he led Mike back to his bedroom, the floorboards creaking under their weight.
Steven paused at the doorway, his hand on the small of Mike's back. "If you want to stop at any time, just say so," he whispered. "I don't want to push you into anything you're not ready for."
Mike took a deep breath, feeling his cock twitch against his thigh. "I want this," he said, his voice firmer now. "I want to explore this... this desire to know you better."
Steven's smile grew, and he leaned in to kiss Mike, the touch gentle and sweet, a stark contrast to the passionate embrace of moments before. Mike felt himself melting into the kiss, his body responding instinctively. He leaned into it, his hands finding their way to Steven's chest, his thumbs circling the man's nipples.
They stumbled into the bedroom, the kiss growing deeper as they went. Steven pushed Mike onto the bed, his hands deftly unbuttoning the dungarees and flannel shirt. Mike's skin was pale in the sunlight that flooded the bedroom, his chest rising and falling with every breath. The tighty whities were the last to go, revealing a cock that was already standing at attention.
Steven took his time, kissing Mike's neck and chest, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as Mike's hips bucked up to meet him. His hands were everywhere, exploring every inch of the young man's body. Mike's moans grew louder as Steven took his cock in hand, stroking it with a firm grip that made Mike's toes curl.
"Please," Mike gasped, arching his back. "I need you."
Steven didn't need any further encouragement, but he knew that Mike was a virgin and would need to be more relaxed.
Steven's fingers trailed down Mike's body, over the firm ridges of his abdomen and towards the unexplored territory below. With a gentle touch, he began to massage the tight ring of muscle, his movements slow and deliberate. Mike tensed for a moment, unused to the sensation, but soon he began to relax, his body responding to the tender ministrations.
"Relax," Steven murmured, his breath hot against Mike's ear as he worked his fingers. "Just let it happen." His thumb circled the tight bud of Mike's anus, applying gentle pressure as he felt the muscles start to loosen.
Mike's eyes rolled back in his head, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He had never felt anything so intense, so overwhelming. The sensation was strange, yet somehow familiar, like a forgotten memory coming back to him.
As Mike grew more accustomed to the feeling, Steven's fingers grew bolder, slipping past the barrier and into the warmth beyond. Mike's body tensed again, but this time it was with pleasure. The fisherman's fingers moved with purpose, stretching, and preparing him for what was to come.
Mike's hips began to move in time with the rhythm of Steven's hand, his cock pulsing with every stroke. "I want you," he whispered, his voice thick with lust. "Please take me."
Steven leaned over, his chest pressing against Mike's, their skin slick with sweat. He kissed him deeply, their tongues dancing together as he positioned himself between Mike's legs. His cock was hard and insistent, demanding entry.
He reached into the bedside table, pulling out a bottle of lube with a quiet snicker. "This will help," he said, his voice a low growl as he squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers.
Mike nodded, his eyes never leaving Steven's. "Just be gentle," he pleaded.
Steven's expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss Mike again. "Always," he promised before coating his cock with the lube.
Slowly, so very slowly, he pushed into Mike, his eyes never leaving the younger man's face. Mike's eyes were wide with a mix of pain and pleasure, but there was no fear in them, only trust.
As he filled Mike, Steven felt a strange sense of rightness, as if this were where he was always meant to be. He began to move, his hips setting a gentle rhythm that grew more urgent with each passing moment.
Mike's hands clutched at the sheets, his body moving in time with the steady, driving force above him. The pain had faded to a dull throb, replaced by an all-consuming pleasure that seemed to radiate from his core.
Steven's hips moved with a primal rhythm, each thrust pushing Mike further into the mattress. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by the occasional gasp or moan. The heat between them was hot, their bodies slick with sweat and desire.
Mike's eyes rolled back in his head as Steven's cock hit that perfect spot inside of him, sending waves of pleasure through his body. He had never felt so alive, so connected to another person. He wrapped his legs around Steven's waist, urging him deeper, wanting more.
The older man's breath grew ragged, his strokes becoming more erratic as he approached his climax. Mike could feel his orgasm building, his cock leaking precum onto his belly. He had never been so close to the edge, so desperate for release.
"Steven," Mike whimpered, his voice a plea. "Please, I need you to..."
But the fisherman was lost in his world of sensation, his eyes squeezed shut as he thrust harder and faster. Mike felt himself falling, the world around him spinning out of control as the orgasm claimed him.
With a final, deep plunge, Steven buried himself to the hilt, his climax following closely behind. He collapsed onto Mike, their bodies trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. For a moment, there was only the sound of their panting breaths and the crackle of the fire from the lounge.
As they lay there, their hearts racing and their skin sticky with sweat, Mike felt something shift within him. The barrier that had existed between them, the one that had kept them at arm's length, was gone. In its place was a bond, forged in the heat of passion and tempered by trust.
They stayed like that for a while, their bodies tangled together, until Steven pulled out, his cock slipping from Mike's body with a wet sound that seemed almost obscene in the quiet. Mike rolled onto Steven and kissed him and then he sucked on his nipples as cum oozed out of him, leaking onto Steven. "Did you enjoy that for the first time?
“It was amazing Steve, just amazing and the most exciting sexual experience I have ever had.”
“Cool, I’m pleased because it was amazing for me as well. It felt different with you. More meaningful and satisfying.”
They lay together for a while longer until Steven broke the quiet of the intimacy. “Let's go fishing before we miss the chance because the shadows on the river are bringing the flies out for their dance over the water. The salmon love the challenge and bite at anything that flies."
"Oh, okay then," responded Mike climbing off Steven to stand by the bed. Steven got up, his cum dribbling down his stomach, mingling with Mike's fluids from his orgasm after lying on him.
"Mike, what say you to fishing like this? We don’t need anything else, just the rod and the basket. What do you think?"
Mike looked down at his naked body, then at Steven's, and couldn't help but smile. "Yeah," he said, feeling a strange sense of freedom. "Let's do it."
They grabbed their rods, stepping into the warm air without a second thought for their nudity. The river was theirs alone, a private sanctuary where they could indulge in this peculiar pastime. The sight of their bare skin, glistening with the remnants of their passion, was almost comical against the backdrop of the serene wilderness.
Steven had changed something in Mike, opening his desire and sexuality in the most exciting manner whereby Mike wanted more of Steven which couldn’t wait as he lay Steven down on the grass by the river and took his cock again.
The warmth of the afternoon air was a stark contrast to the heat between them as Mike eagerly took Steven's cock into his mouth. The taste was familiar now, a heady blend of musk and sweat that only served to stoke the fire within him. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked, his tongue swirling around the shaft with an enthusiasm born of newfound desire.
Steven groaned, his eyes drifting shut as Mike's head bobbed up and down. The sensation was exquisite, the gentle tug of the younger man's mouth sending jolts of pleasure through his body. He threaded his fingers through Mike's hair, guiding the rhythm, the sounds of the river providing a soothing backdrop to their intimate act.
As Mike worked his way down, he felt a strange sense of power, a feeling that he had never experienced before. He looked up to see Steven watching him, his eyes hooded with lust. The fisherman's hand tightened in his hair, urging him on as he took the cock deeper, feeling it throb in his mouth.
Their fishing gear lay forgotten beside them as Mike's mouth slid up and down, the sun peeking over the horizon, casting a warm glow over their bodies. The early evening light played across Steven's chest, highlighting the dusting of hair and the contours of muscle that Mike hadn't noticed before.
Mike's cock was rock hard, bobbing against his belly as he gave himself over to the act of pleasing this man who had so unexpectedly entered his life. The sound of the water rushing by was a gentle reminder of the world outside their bubble as Steven unloaded into Mike's mouth. Mike laid his head on Steven's groin gently playing with the older man's cock as it lost its hardness, but Mike continued to enjoy the taste of him, caught in the peace that was the riverbank as Mike continued to gently enjoy his cock.
After a while, they became aware of the river again and without further delay, they got up and fished the rest of the evening, their nakedness felt natural, a symbol of the unspoken bond that had formed between them. Mark and Steven both noticed when either man became aroused as they fished but Mark thought Steven’s cock magnificent when compared to his manhood.
“Steve, I just wanted to tell you, I love your cock, it’s magnificent.”
“Mike, if we are being honest, I think you are beautiful, and I loved making love to you and can’t wait until the next time we share ourselves.”
Mike looked at Steven standing in the river in a similar position. “If you can’t wait, let’s have a break because my arms are getting tired from casting the line but I’m not tired of you.”
“Fair enough. I want you now Mike, I need you now, let’s fuck?” as Steven walked to the riverbank throwing his rob onto the grass.
Mike followed; his arousal visible as he kissed Steven. Steven broke the embrace whispering in Mike’s ear, “I want you to kneel on all fours.”
Mike complied eagerly, the dry grass cool against his skin as he presented his ass, waiting to be taken. The fisherman took a moment to appreciate the view, the tight muscles of Mike's back and legs, the way his ass cheeks clenched with anticipation.
Steven's cock was already hard again, the desire for the young man a constant throb in his groin. He positioned himself behind Mike, his hand caressing the firm flesh before he lined up his cock with the waiting hole. With one smooth motion, he pushed inside, filling Mike to the brim with his girth using the remains of his seed from earlier as a suitable lubricant.
Mike gasped, the sudden intrusion making him wobble slightly, but he managed to keep his balance as Steven began to move. The sensation was intense, the feeling of being claimed by this rugged man who had already taken him in and taught him so much.
Steven's rhythm grew faster, his hips slapping against Mike's ass as he pounded into him. Mike's moans grew louder, echoing through the forest as the sun began to set for the day.
Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, the only sounds were their harsh breathing and the slap of skin on skin. Mike's cock bobbed between his legs, leaking precum onto the grass as he rocked back into each thrust.
The world around them faded away, the only thing that mattered was the connection they shared in that moment. The smell of the earth and the river mixed with the scent of their lust, creating an intoxicating aroma that seemed to fill the air.
Steven reached around, his hand finding Mike's cock, and began to stroke it in time with his thrusts. Mike's breath hitched, his moans turning into keening cries of pleasure.
The tension between them grew, their movements becoming more frantic as they chased their shared release. Mike's body tightened, his muscles coiling like a spring as he felt himself approaching his climax.
With a final, powerful thrust, Steven emptied himself into Mike, his cum mixing with the older fluid left from their previous lovemaking as the younger man's seed shot out to spatter the grass beneath them.
They collapsed together, panting and spent, the early evening light bathing them in a soft, golden glow as dusk began to settle around them. For a moment, they lay there, the only sound, the gentle lapping of the river and the pounding of their hearts.
The intimacy of the moment was not lost on either of them. They had moved from being strangers to lovers in a single day and as they broke apart, collected their rods, and wandered slowly back to the cabin for dinner, more sex and perhaps…sleep.
Having sealed their relationship the whole night, Mike was first to get up and stood outside in the nightshirt that Steven had provided him, drinking a coffee, and smoking a cigarette.
Mike felt exhausted having experienced the best sex ever, feeling the effects of being fucked by Steven three more times that evening. Mike wondered where Steven got the energy from as he enjoyed the memories when Steven joined him, wearing his nightshirt. "Morning my love," he said, his voice gruff from sleep.
“Good morning, Steve,” he responded, feeling a thrill run through him as he took in the sight of the man he now knew so intimately. The events of the previous evening had been a revelation, a blur of passion and pleasure that had left him feeling both sated and hungry for more.
They stood side by side, their nakedness protected under their nightshirts providing them with suitable warmth in the cool morning air. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting long shadows across the cabin and the surrounding woods.
Mike took a sip of his coffee, feeling the warmth spread through him as he cuddled into Steven’s shoulder. "I don't know what to say," he admitted finally. "I never thought I'd be here, doing this and I never thought I would be in love."
Steven chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Life's full of surprises," he said, taking a drag on his cigarette. "You know, I've lived here a long time, and I've had a lot of people pass through. But you're the first one who's ever really... gotten under my skin. I am pleased you got lost and found me."
Mike looked at him, his heart swelling with a feeling he hadn't known existed. "What does that mean?"
Steven shrugged, his gaze drifting over Mike's body. "It means that I want you to stay," he said, his voice low and serious. "For as long as you want to. I can teach you everything you need to know about fishing, about the wilderness, about... this." He gestured between them, his hand encompassing their newfound relationship.
Mike felt a shiver of excitement run down his spine. "What if I don’t want to leave?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Steven turned to face him, his eyes searching Mike's. "Then you don't have to," he said, leaning in for a kiss that was soft and full of promise.
Mike melted into it, his body responding instinctively to the man he now knew he couldn't live without. In such a brief time, he had found his place in the world, most extraordinarily. Their kisses grew more heated, their hands roaming over each other's bodies as they moved closer.
Before they knew it, Steven had bent Mike over the porch railing and had lifted his nightshirt and he discarded his own in a tangled heap on the floor. The urgency of the night before had given way to something slower, more deliberate as Steven stepped up behind Mike who had now pulled off his nightshirt letting it drop to the ground in front of the porch, taking his time to explore Mike’s body again, touching and kissing Mike’s back in a declaration of their newfound love.
Steven's cock was already hard, pressing against Mike's opening as he kissed his back. Mike reached down to stroke his cock, feeling the velvety skin and the pulse of desire with precum leaking at an accelerated rate.
The older man groaned, his hips moving in time with Mike's bottom. "I need you," he whispered, his voice hoarse with passion.
Mike nodded, eager to give in to the need that had taken hold of them both as Steven pushed himself into Mike, allowing himself a deeper penetration from behind. They made love slowly, their bodies moving in a rhythm as the mountains that surrounded them remained impassive or judgemental.
Steven kept thrusting from behind as Mike took hold of his cock, rubbing the shaft with a new level of excitement feeling the impending orgasm start to form. As Steven pounded his arse with a new vigour brought on by the early morning, he felt his orgasm starting to grow in response. The younger man came first, shooting his cum through the railing of the porch to land on his nightshirt followed by more spurts of cum until his balls became empty. Steven though held on for a while until he almost screamed as he felt himself release in the throes of his first climax of the day. The strength of Steven’s orgasm shocked Mike who felt something give way inside of him, a final barrier crumbling as he relinquished all control of his body to his lover. He knew that he had found his home, in this cabin, with this man he now considered his love.
Steven stayed inside Mike who was bent over the porch railing trying to recompose his breathing. They stayed like that until Mike stood up as Steven embraced him, dropping out of his lover continuing to dribble his cum and Mike dribble seed onto Steven’s cock in the embrace that left no physical distance between each other. The warmth of the sun streamed onto the porch painting patterns on the floorboards as the two men felt the warmth of each other.
Steven turned Mike around and kissed him as Mike looked into his eyes, feeling a sense of belonging that was both terrifying and exhilarating. "I'll stay," he said, his voice firm. "As long as you'll have me."
Steven's smile was all the answer he needed. "Good," he said, kissing Mike softly. "Because I plan on keeping you around for a very long time."
Both men settled down for breakfast deciding not to get dressed as the warmth of the day started to offer them more comfort. After breakfast, Mike went outside and started to chop firewood, his naked form running with sweat down his back as he worked hard with Steven picking up the logs and piling them against the side of the cabin.
As Mike stood taking a drink of water, Steven sat on the chopping block and invited Mike to sit on his lap facing him. Mike looked at Steven’s eyes closely, examining the reflection of his soul finding only love and compassion. Mike lifted himself a little allowing Steven’s cock to yet again access for another round of lovemaking but this time, there was no rush, no urgency, just tenderness. The gentle lovemaking culminated in Steven having another orgasm. Not as powerful as the previous one but more sensual and loving.
“I love you Mike and I’m pleased you want to stay,” Steven whispered as he hugged Mike. “All I want to do is make love to you today and tonight.”
“Steve, you can take me whenever you want. I give myself to you, mind body and soul but I’m not sure I can manage a day and a night. I just don’t understand where you get the energy from to keep servicing my needs as well as yours.”
“Simple Mike, Salmon…Salmon is the answer to everything so, let’s go fishing and I vote we remain naked like yesterday and go with the flow…sorry for the pun.”
The day became a blur of fishing and passionate lovemaking. Mike was delighted when he caught his first fish, a brown Trout, holding it up for Steven to see. Steven on the other hand went one-up when he netted his second salmon in two days. A real beauty when he held it up for Mike to see.
During a cigarette break, Steven knelt between Mike’s legs and took his cock and milked him dry, swallowing everything until Mike started to complain he couldn’t take anymore because Steven wouldn’t stop licking the sensitive head of his cock.
“How long do you think you could last until you beg for mercy if I kept on sucking you?” Steven asked Mike who had pushed him away trying to get him to stop.
“I…I don’t know,” Mike responded gasping for breath from the over sensitivity of his gland. “Perhaps…you should tie me up and find out,” grabbing Steven for a kiss.
With a wicked smile, Steven looked at his lover, “Perhaps I shall find out how much post-orgasm torture you can take. They tell me that the sensitivity only lasts so long until a man becomes ready to cum again.”
“Steve, you want to find out how much I can take of you sucking my dick?”
“Yep, really,” he responded. “I want to take you on a journey until you beg me to stop or push yourself through the pain barrier of sensitivity.”
“I guess then we should pack up and go home and you can do what you want to do,” Mike stated, as yet again he felt himself becoming aroused.
They packed up their fish and walked calmly back to the cabin. After putting the fish in the fridge, Steven disappeared to the shed, returning with some leather straps that Mike identified were going to restrain him in the name of science.
“You ready?”
“I guess so Steve,” Mike nervously declared.
“Good, let's go and have some fun.”
Mike nodded, feeling his cock swell even further at the thought of what was to come. Steven led him to the bedroom, the anticipation making Mike's heart race. He lay on the bed, his legs spread wide as Steven secured his wrists and ankles to the bedposts with the leather straps.
The fisherman took a moment to appreciate the view, his cock thickening at the sight of Mike's naked form, vulnerable and exposed. He leaned down, his warm breath ghosting over Mike's cock as he licked the length of it, causing Mike to squirm.
Mike's eyes rolled back in his head as Steven took him in his mouth, his skilled tongue swirling around the head. The pleasure was intense, made more so by the knowledge that he was at Steven's mercy. He felt his orgasm building, his hips bucking up off the bed as he approached the precipice.
With a groan, Mike came, his body jerking with the force of his climax. But instead of pulling away, Steven continued to suck, his mouth working tirelessly as Mike's cock grew increasingly sensitive.
Mike's moans grew louder, his body writhing in pleasure and pain as Steven pushed him through the barrier of sensitivity. "Please," he gasped, his voice hoarse. "I can't..."
Steven looked up at him, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, but you can," he said, his voice a low growl. And with that, he took Mike's cock in his mouth again, the sensation overwhelming.
The younger man's body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with sensation. He could feel the beginnings of another orgasm building, despite his protests. "No, no, no," he moaned, but it was too late.
The second climax hit him like a freight train, his body arching off the bed as he came again. This time, Steven didn't stop, his tongue flicking and swirling until Mike's cock was raw with sensitivity.
Tears leaked from the corners of Mike's eyes, his body trembling with the effort of enduring the relentless pleasure. "Steven, please," he begged, his voice screaming no longer a whisper as before.
The third climax hit him like a sumo wrestler charging into him, his breath almost spent, his entire body arching off the bed looking for a release, a way out as he came again. This time, Steven kept going, swallowing everything that Mike pumped out of his body, his tongue flicking everything until Mike's cock was so raw with sensitivity and the multiple orgasms he had just been put through.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Steven released Mike's cock, a trail of saliva connecting them. "You did good, and I enjoyed watching you," he murmured, stroking Mike's thigh gently. "I'm proud of you and I love your cock and love you," as he undid the leather restraints.
Mike lay there, panting, and exhausted, his body feeling like it had been rewired. The intimacy of the experience, the power exchange, it was all too much to process.
As they lay in bed, their bodies entwined. The fire cast a warm glow over the room, their skin slick with sweat from their exertions.
"What now?" Mike asked, his voice still shaky from the intense experience.
Steven kissed his forehead; his hand tracing patterns on Mike's chest. "Now, we rest," he said. "And tomorrow, we'll do it all over again if you want to?"
The words sent a thrill through Mike, a mix of excitement and trepidation. He had signed up for this journey, and he had no intention of turning back now.
Their relationship was sealed, and the subsequent days saw their relationship grow. Mike learned the art of fly-fishing from Steven, the patience and precision of the sport becoming a metaphor for the relationship that was growing between them. At night, they would sit by the fire, sharing stories of their pasts, their hopes, and fears. The cabin, once a solitary bastion of survival, had become a sanctuary of love and learning.
They made a film called Salmon Fishing in the Yemen but here Mike and Steve had their own love story, Salmon Fishing in the Rockies.
