Fishing Trip With Red

by falcon29

Copyright© 2018 by falcon29

Erotica Sex Story: Two long-time fishing buddies explore some new territory.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Ma   Consensual   Reluctant   BiSexual   Fiction   Oral Sex   Safe Sex   .

I closed the door to my camper pick up and hurried back inside the house.

It was July in Missoula, but summer nights in Montana can still get pretty cold. I had jeans on but just a light shirt, so I was shivering. Inside, the aroma of coffee drifted to me. ‘Shit!’ I thought, ‘She must have heard me.’

I was sorry I’d awakened my wife, Jan, but I was grateful for the hot coffee awaiting me on the table. I kissed Jan’s deliciously night scented neck and apologized. “I guess you heard me closing the door and stuff.”

“No, the smell of your fart in the bathroom did that.”

I slapped her ass (still naked under the robe) and sat to my coffee. It still hadn’t gotten light. It was 4:30 AM and I told Red I’d pick him up at 5:30. It was only an hour or so to Flathead after that, but parking fills up fast. I saw Jan was laying bacon in a pan.

“I don’t think I’ll have time for breakfast, Honey,” I said, my mouth watering.

“Oh, I’ll make it an egg and bacon sandwich then. I’ll make one for Red, too.”

She was good to her word and we shared a bacon greased kiss as I took the fragrant bag to the truck. Once on the way to Red’s house I thought about my old truck. My dad bought it new and I had inherited it, so it really was an old truck. Dad took care of it, though, and I’ve kept it up.

It’s a real workhorse. I replaced the engine when it became mine. Almost every part on the bed-mounted telescopic camper that could be replaced, had been over the years. My aluminum boat was on top and its electric motor was stashed in back, along with my fishing gear.

I didn’t wait until I picked Red up before chomping into my sandwich. The aroma drove me crazy. I was still chewing when Red climbed into the cab and I slid his breakfast across the bench seat to him. “With Jan’s compliments and a wish for luck today,” I told him.

After stopping for ‘to go’ cups at the coffee shop, we were on the way, just as the sun came up. Red stuck his hat between the window and his head for shade. Between mouthfuls of sandwich he expressed his thanks to Jan. “Jesus. Gina won’t roll out until at least ten. Do you chain your wife to the stove at night?”

“Nah, she just loves me,” I smiled, knowing it was true.

By seven we were on the lake. I found a spot to park near where we’d unloaded the boat near the ramp. Red waited there while I parked the truck. Together, we carried the boat and motor to the water. It was an easy lift, weighing no more than 150 pounds or so, even with our gear in it.

We drowned a few worms and cast lures until our arms were sore. No luck. Back at the ramp, the guy running the access ramp said we could check our boat with him if we were staying over.

“I’ll put your gear in a locker and you can pick it up instead of packing it back and forth,” he promised.

We were staying the night, so he signed a receipt for the boat, motor and oars, as well as our gear, with full descriptions. I checked with the Ranger to confirm I had the right spot before rearranging my parking and dropping the leveling legs.

I grew up tent camping with my family, so I didn’t consider this actually ‘camping’. I like the portability of a tent and pack, though I admit a camper is more comfortable. Instead of a cooler full of food, we had our goods in the propane fridge.

There was a propane stove, too, but other than morning coffee, I insisted on using the fire pit outside to grill anything we needed to cook.

That afternoon we went out to fish with the evening bugs. We caught a couple of nice trout each. Eating two for dinner, we wrapped the others for the fridge. Then we broke out the drinks.

Red and I had been friends for ten years at that point. We got together often enough with our wives that we all were beyond the early embarrassments everybody experiences as their friendships mature.

We’d seen each other drunk (all four of us). We’d all heard farts from one of the others, puked in front of the others and even – truly accidentally - Red and I had caught glimpses of each other’s wives’ ‘naughty bits’ without covering one time, as they had ours.

Jan and I had visited clothing optional resorts twice, though when I told Red he and Gina should try it, Gina said she didn’t think she could ever go naked in company.

She meant on purpose, and in mixed company, because though neither Red nor I was particularly modest around each other, from things Jan had said, Gina wasn’t so prudish when they went to the gym.

So: It’s Saturday night. Our bellies full of trout and a couple of beers, Red broke out a bottle of whiskey he’d stashed away. ‘Whoa-ho! Okay,’ I think. ‘This will be fine.’ I turned my third shot down, though. “I can’t, man,” I told him. “I’m already fucked up.”

“The thing to do when you’re fucked up is to get more ‘fucked up-er’, he said, tossing my shot down his throat, and we stared into the fire a few minutes. I was just enjoying the night and the scent of the forest around us and the smell of the smoke (that kept the bugs away, mostly). I closed my eyes for a few seconds. I might have gone to sleep right there if Red hadn’t stirred from his chair.

“I gotta go,” he said simply. He headed for the rest rooms halfway around the gravel drive Of course, there’s a tiny toilet room in the camper, but my rule is that, ‘if you don’t have to use it, don’t’.

Dumping the holding tank is a nasty, smelly job. To make it worse, knowing you’re probably smelling the aged odors of someone else’s shit makes it more humiliating. I got up and stashed all the stuff away that we’d brought outside. I looked at the time and saw it was only nine.

A quick call to Jan let her know our situation. She was just starting to watch a movie on TV. “I invited Gina for a ‘girls’ weekend’, but she said she already had plans. She didn’t say what.”

“Well, you have friends you see without her, too. Don’t pout,” I said.

“Oh, I’m not! This is supposed to be a pretty hot movie. I have my wine. And without Gina here, I can get my vibrator out if the film is hot enough.”

“Mmm. I want to hear all about it when I get home.” We said we loved each other and clicked off. I have seen how she gets with her vibrator. Suddenly I wished for a teleporter so I could help her.

When Red got back I could see the booze had affected him. “I think I’m gonna hit the sack,” he said.

“Yeah, I hope we can get out there before light. Those fish will want their breakfast.”

“Sure thing, man,” Red slurred. “I’m there.”

We got into the camper and shed our outer clothes and climbed into our respective bunks in our boxers. I expected to hear Red’s snoring soon, but I didn’t.

What I did hear was him sniffing. When he sniffed again, I asked, “Did you catch a cold, buddy?”

“Nah,” he said as he got up and grabbed a handful of tissue from the ‘bathroom’ and climbed back under the covers. He sat there and blew the snot out. Then I saw him swipe at his eyes. We had turned out our lights but the security lamps (required by new state laws within the park) outside gave a dim version of everything.

He looked over at me and simply said, “I think I have a problem with Gina.”

“What? What problem? I thought you guys were...”

“Yeah. Yeah, in company she puts on a good face. But at home, well, let’s just say we’re kind of like roommates. She hardly ever lets me make love to her. And even then, while I’m making love to her, she’s ‘allowing’ me to fuck her. It just seems like she isn’t there any more.

“You said Jan made those sandwiches because she loves you? Yeah, well, that feeling has disappeared for me.”

“Wow, I’m sorry, man. Just ... wow. What does she say?” “She just says I don’t know what I’m talking about. She says she feels the same way she did when we got married.

If so, then I have to say she didn’t ever really love me.” He really sobbed then. It cut me so deep to see him in such distress that I found myself sitting next to him, a hand on his shoulder. I just let him cry.

He kept crying and it twisted at my heart. At one point he leaned over and rested his head on my shoulder. “Shit, man, I’m closer to you than I am with my own wife,” he mumbled.

I set him vertical again and got some more toilet paper. Handing it to him, I retreated to my bunk. When he was breathing normally again, he apologized, but I told him there was nothing he had to be sorry about. He was my best friend and I told him that, too.

“There’s nothing you have to apologize for or be embarrassed about, Red,” I told him. “There’s nothing you could tell me that would hurt our friendship.”

“Oh I wouldn’t say that too readily my friend,” he said with a snort. “What’s that famous line about the darkness in the heart?”

I had to think. Then I remembered. “Do you mean, ‘Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?’? That’s from the old Shadow radio show.”

“Yeah, I guess. There’s parts of me nobody knows.”

“Shit, Red! Everybody has secret rooms in their mind they never, ever tell anybody about. That’s just the way we’re wired. We’re ashamed of something we did, or afraid we’ll be stoned out of town if anybody knew the things we feel or think about sometimes. Even me.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Ha! You can’t trick me that way, buddy!” I said. I clicked on one of the battery lamps we had. “Where’d you put that bottle?” Red grimaced as he reached it out of his pack near his feet.

Taking a shot, he passed it to me. I followed suit and handed it back. Red capped it and put it away again. He seemed completely sober. “I’ll tell you my Big Secret,” he volunteered.

“Hey, I didn’t ask! But if you want to talk, okay.” I admit, I felt a kind of voyeuristic curiosity. There wasn’t much he could tell me that would make me dislike him, but...

“Okay. Have you ever thought about what gay guys do together?”

“You mean sexually, I guess?”

“Yeah, I mean, yeah, the sucking and butt fucking everybody assumes, but ... why do they do it?”

“Well, duh,” I said. “It’s obvious they’re pretty much like men with women, I guess. They have one night stands or they have relationships. There’s the new gay marriage laws and all, you know? They’re just people, not another species.”

“I know. I just don’t quite get it, though. I mean, I love eating a pussy, but ... sucking a cock? Have you ever tried to imagine it?”

I managed to keep from laughing. “Red, I bet every guy has wondered what it’s like to suck another guy off. Just as I bet most women sometimes wonder about having sex with another girl.” I took a deep breath and he kept his silence.

“Here’s one of MY Big Secrets for you,” I decided to tell him. “I have asked Jan to use her dildo on me – she has and I like it!”

Red just looked at me with no expression. Then he said, “Have you ever wished it was real?”

“According to Jan, there’s a world of difference between the rubber dildo or a latex of a condom and the ‘hot, throbbing, bare cock of a horny man’. I added, “There’s two secrets for your one.” I’d just let him know that Jan took it up her ass.

“You and Jan do anal?”

“Yup. More than once,” I told him, trying not to brag.

“Gina used to let me play with hers, but only with my finger, but she never even let me put that finger inside her ass, let alone my cock.” I didn’t say anything. Then Red asked me, “Have you ever ... you know, with another guy?”

“No, I never have. It’s a curiosity to me, is all.” After a hesitation, “What about you? Ever suck a cock?”


I couldn’t think of anything to say then. Red seemed far away. The silence went on so long I craned my head to see if his eyes were open. They were. He saw me looking and turned to me. His expression was what I would call tortured, as if he was struggling. Finally, he said,

“You know, I’ve thought about finding a hooker, but I can’t do that. There are too many things that could go wrong. Even picking somebody up would be the same thing. I won’t do anything to give her ammunition to take any bigger a piece of me than it will be as things are now when Gina and I got divorced. I’m just so fucking horny!” I thought a while, then said, “Well, what are you gonna do?” He took a deep breath and looked at me. We were only a few feet away from each other. “Could I hug you, man? I just need some contact.” I again moved to his bunk and opened my arms. I tried to pour my friendship to him, to let him know how much I cared about him and wanting to help. He hugged me hard and rubbed his hands up and down my back. It felt good.

When his grasp loosened, I started to sit back but he pressed his lips to my cheek for a second before he let go. Sitting back we looked at each other and he whispered, “Could I suck your cock?”

I gasped quietly. I watched his eyes worrying their way through doubt and hope and more doubt and shame for asking. I hesitated so long that he sat back and said, “I guess that was a step too far.”

Incredibly, my cock had begun to stiffen. Did I want a blow job? Hell, yeah. Did I want a blow job from my best male friend? Well, did I?

“Well,” I began, “If I do this, it would have to be the Secret of Secrets between us.” His eyes opened farther.

“You mean you don’t hate me now? I swear I’m not gay! I love fucking women. This has nothing to do with that.”

“I get it. You’re horny, you need sexual contact with another human being. I get it. But ... well is that it? That’s all?”

“Um ... yeah. I guess.”

By then I was tired of keeping my erection hidden. I made a decision. I stood up, dropped my undies and slipped my tee shirt off. By the time I could see again, Red was staring at my hard dick sticking up in the air. He glanced at me, saw my grin, and got naked too. His dick was hard, too. It’s thick, but not very long. His pubic hair was a darker shade of the hair on his head.

I got back on my narrow bunk and slid to the wall, leaving room for Red. He pressed between my thighs and gingerly took me in his hand. His hand was rough (he worked construction, after all), but he was careful. He gave me a squeeze and stroked me a little bit. His eyes were locked onto what his hand was doing and I studied him.

I swear he looked like he’d never seen a penis before. He studied it, feeling it all over and stroking. Then he seemed to catch himself. He glanced at me and he blushed. Then he bent down and I felt his breath on my balls. The logical place for my hand then was on his shoulder so I rested it there, gently rubbing his back. I felt and saw him inhale before I felt the heat and saliva as he took just the head into his mouth.

I got even harder then. It was surreal, knowing my best buddy had my dick in his mouth. But I just let the feeling run through me. I kept telling myself this was okay. ‘I’m doing this for Red,’ A blow job is a blow job, I told myself. But it felt great! Red got into it, began to take more of me in, then back off before taking more.

I lay back and tried to wrap my head around this. ‘It’s okay, I’m not gay. I’m doing this for Red. A mouth doesn’t have a gender, it’s just a mouth.’ But a soft whisper in my mind said something else: (‘If I’m not gay why does this feel so good?’) it said.

I remember having just a second’s warning before I felt my cum rising. “Red!” He dropped down as much as he could before I blasted his tonsils with a huge load. But Red couldn’t manage it all. He pulled back just before the last spurt erupted. The wayward glob arced up and came down on my chest, and across one of my nipples.

Red turned away. “That was ... that was really good, man,” I said.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You must think I’m some closet queer.”

“WHAT?” I said, my voice louder than I intended. I grabbed his shoulder and turned him back to face me. He was crying again. He reluctantly let me pull him back down next to me. I held him, that last glob of my cum smearing both of us. I felt a shiver and my nipple stiffened.

He was asleep so I tugged the blanket up over us both and held him. In the dim light I lay awake thinking a long time. I felt Red’s dick against me so I reached down to feel it. Like me he was circumcised. It felt hot in my hand. As I kept feeling it, it would twitch sometimes. Then it got stiff. I kept fondling.

I studied Red’s face while he slept. His rust colored stubble covered his jaw (There’s a reason he was called Red.) My hand stroked him softly. Small whimpers escaped him from time to time. It occurred to me that Red had been the one complaining about being horny, yet he had not climaxed.

Lying there in the dark another thought whispered in my mind: ‘Go ahead, chicken. You’ll never have a better chance. You know you have wondered.’

I inhaled. Jan has mentioned how much my scent turns her on at times. Red had a scent too and I smelled it then. I understood what my wife meant about the ‘maleness’ of my scent. I didn’t mind it. I felt my dick get harder again.

The taunting of my own consciousness echoed though. “Red,” I whispered. He didn’t stir. I slipped my arm from under his neck and I released his cock as he rolled to his back. I stroked my hand up his chest to his nipples. Jan was the first one who taught me my nipples were as sensitive as hers. It always makes me tingle when she nibbles them and sucks.

I ran a fingertip across the little nub and had to grin as it stiffened like a little penis. I flicked it gently and the narrow aureole puckered into gooseflesh the way mine do. Without another thought I found my lips wrapped around that stiff bump. I still wasn’t ready for him to awaken, however.

I moved down until I my face was inches from that thick erection. Under the blanket his aroma was concentrated. Then I realized it had to be his and mine combined. I had expected a repulsive body odor smell, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Either it or the situation simply made me as horny as hell.

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