On Nature

or The Outdoor Whack Attack

Somewhere along the single-life line I took up hiking (really!) in the national forest outside of town. I had purchased a camera and thought I’d do some nature photography. I entered a few of them into a contest. They said my pictures sucked. Turned out I had no sense of composition and texture. I got your texture right here: between my legs. Texture that! So I left the camera home on subsequent hikes.

The greatest thing about hiking out there was the total sense of isolation. Upon occasion, you would run across other hikers (men and women) and about 50% of the time they’d be walking around wearing hiking boots and little, if anything, else. So, one day I hiked a bit along the trail and took my clothes off. I folded my pants (I was commando that day) into my shirt and tied it around my waist. It was a pretty nice way of communing with nature and I understood why those men I’d seen walking around swinging in the breeze liked it. It became my MO.

In fact, I just enjoy being naked. I like the sensation of it; it’s freeing to wander around with no encumbrances. I loved hanging around in the nude at the (now closed) gym with all the other guys; I’ve gone on a nude sailing cruise out of Key West; I sat on nude beaches, soaking up the sun and enjoying the feel of the breezes wafting across my balls; I’ve had guys over for naked pool parties (if any snuck off to hide and suck or jack each other off I didn’t know about it, but more power to ‘em if they did). It’s simply nice to be as nature intended, as naked as when we came into the world.

Anyway, on one particular day I needed to stop hiking for a break. I found a large boulder, just the right height for a chair. Before sitting down, I stood near the edge of the trail to take a whizz. And damn if my dick didn’t decide it wanted some added attention. Well, what the hell? I hadn’t seen a soul since heading out on the trail. I leaned/sat on the rocks and proceeded to get my own off. Just as I’m emptying my man-berries a guy walks around the bend. He stopped with a stunned look on his face. What could I do? I shrugged my shoulders and smiled. He recovered and went on his way with a smile and a wave. Later on, I’m up on a cliff face enjoying the breezes tickling the hair on my nuts and I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I look down and here’s the same guy, pants around his ankles, beating his meat. I waved to him and gave him thumbs up. Nothing like total communion with nature: dropping your seed to mingle with the earth which sustains you. Jackin’ outdoors turns out to be a huge, satisfying turn-on.

One of my favorite places to do so is floating around on a raft in the pool or lying on the cooldecking, legs spread wide. My hard dick, basking in the warmth of the sun… The pre-cum drooling onto my abs… the feel of a cool gentle breeze across my sweating balls… The pools of jizz across my chest. Does life get any better than this? Only if there are other guys around to enjoy it with. Perhaps giving you a proper reach-around!