Barry Bungee Jump – Part 3

Today, we reach the finale of Barry Bungee Jump’s story. We left the three campers turning in at the campsite…Jeff and Dari in separate tents. That let’s Barry know there won’t be the threesome he’s been dreaming of. So what does he do now? Let’s find out.

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BARRY BUNGEE JUMP

     Supper was kinda quiet in spite of all I could to do liven things up. Neither of my traveling companions showed an inclination toward sitting around a cozy campfire and spinning yarns. Jeff disappeared behind canvas first, and after I made sure the campfire was thoroughly doused, I found Dari standing at his tent flap holding it open for me.

     I ducked through and got a little thrill when his hand played with my butt as I passed him. We were both naked in seconds with me lying atop him trying to see his eyes in the darkness. All I could make out was a faint gleam. He pulled me to him and gave me a deep kiss. Fucked my mouth with his tongue was more like it. Then he pushed me down his chest so fast, I hardly got a taste of his flesh before his big cock was throbbing against my lips. Dari had been raised in some other country—Iran, I think—so he was the only guy I knew with a foreskin. Frankly, I sort of liked it and wished I had one to skin back and forth. I pulled that fold of flesh back and took him as far down my throat as I could. He filled me up pleasantly.

     I was prepared to go all the way with a blowjob, but that wasn’t what he wanted. Before long, he rolled over on top of me and spread my legs with his knees. He took me in hand for a moment before raising my legs. He was still wet when he found my sphincter. My puckerhole opened to him, and he slid inside easily. He must have been really charged up because he didn’t build up to it like he usually did. He started out fucking hard. Before long, he was grunting and groaning, and muttering in a foreign language. Something loud. I started to shush him, but then I got it. He was establishing primacy. Putting Jeff on notice my ass was getting fucked.

     Thinking maybe it would charge up Jeff for later, I joined in and gave him some “do it to mes” and a couple of “harders!”

    I don’t think Dari’d ever busted his balls like he did that night. He practically howled when his orgasm finally struck. He was panting and gasping so hard I was afraid he was going to have a heart attack. Of course, that made it good for me, too. When he finally got himself through his ejaculation, he only had to grasp me in his hand to bring me over the edge, as well. It was kinda spectacular, too.

     Neither of us said a thing as we lay there in the darkness of the tent trying to regain our breath. Fifteen minutes musta passed before I had strength enough to stir.

     “Where you going?” he asked. Demanded, really.

     “Over to Jeff’s tent.”

     “Didn’t I give you what you wanted?”

     “Sure you did. It was great. Super, actually. But I also gave you what you wanted. Now it’s Jeff’s turn.”

     “How long you been fucking him?”

     “Ever since I’ve known him, I guess.” I stopped to consider. “Not really. I just blew him and we belly fucked until you showed me the other way.”

     “Don’t go. You don’t need him.”

     “Hey, man. It’s only fair.”

     Dari didn’t say another word as I wiggled out of one tent and tip-toed as naked as I’d ever get to the other.

     “What?” Jeff said as I slithered up beside him on his sleeping bag.

     “Time for a little cuddling.” I made my voice as sweet and syrupy as I could.

     “You think I want sloppy seconds?”

     “No, I think you want your Barry.”

     Despite his attitude, he didn’t stop me as I peeled back the covers and explored his broad chest with my tongue. I could feel his throbbing cock pushing against me through the bag. I exposed him as I worked my way past his deep navel. Jeff was hot. Hot under the collar he wasn’t wearing and hot in his vitals.

I took him in my mouth and rode him all the way to his root. And he was big enough so that was uncomfortable. But I knew he’d unbend if I just kept at it. And he did. Soon, he was completely free of his covers, legs splayed, hands on my head as I seriously sucked his big dong.

     “Not this way!” He pulled me off him.

     Before I knew what was happening, he threw me on my belly, got between my legs, and split my buns with his slick cock. The dude fucked me. Really fucked me. It started out as payback, but soon turned into something with feeling to it. Angry recriminations became gentle words of care as he worked to give me his seed. When he was on the edge of his explosion, the friction of the sleeping bag against my rigid tool did me in. My orgasm about blew me away. My internal muscles grabbed and milked Jeff’s cock while we took the sex jump together. It was as good and exciting as a dive off the bridge.

     Another quarter hour passed before he rolled off me and caressed my neck. His strong hand played down my back and over my buns, making me comfortable.

     “I love you, Bungee,” he whispered.

     “Aw…”

     “It’s true. I love you, but I don’t think I can share you.”

     He took his hand away as his words raised goose bumps all up and down me. Was he telling me it was over? There wouldn’t be other trips. Other fuck sessions? I held my tongue and lay there for a long time before the chill air drove me into the bag with him. I didn’t sleep much that night, wondering if I’d made a big mistake. Well, it was done, so I just had to wait to see how it played out.

     I was kind of dopy the next morning, and for the first time, frankly wasn’t much interested in jumping. Still, it was a way to get around the hostility going around the camp. Jeff and Dari didn’t say a word to one another that was wasn’t forced out of them. After breakfast, we headed back to the bridge. And once I was hooked up to the harness and launched into the void, all my cares and troubles faded away. It was a great jump, and I was still yelling for joy when they hauled me back up. For the first time since yesterday, smiles lit both their faces.

     Dari harnessed up next, and I could tell from his delighted shout echoing in the canyon, he was free from the jealousy of last night. I watched him hit zero and start the first rebound.

     “He had a good jump.” I froze as I turned to Jeff.

     The big jack knife in his left hand rested gently against the cord. When Dari hit bottom again, and it went taut, some of the latex strands parted.

     I honestly don’t believe Jeff knew what was happening because his eyes were on me, a halfway playful smile stretched across his lips. But I saw. Dari hit bottom on his next rebound, the cord tightened again, and a few more strands parted beneath the blade.

     “Jeff, the knife’s….” I lost my voice.

     A few more strands parted, and then the cord came apart with a loud ripping sound. Only when Dari’s cries of joy became a screech of terror did Jeff’s eyes leave me. He looked at the severed jump rope and then peered over the side of the bridge. As Dari’s voice faded away on his long journey down into the Rio Grande, Jeff turned to me. I saw confusion clear from his expression and realization take hold. And then I saw the future play out behind those handsome blue eyes.

     I turned and ran for my life.

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Offhand, I'd say Barry made a whopper of a mistake. Sometimes you think you know a guy, and then.... 

See you next month. Thanks for checking out the site.

Mark

New posts are published at the first of every month at 6:00 a.m.

Barry Bungee Jump – Part 2

Today, we pick up the story of Barry Bungee Jump. As I recall, his life was going pretty well. He’d hooked up with another avid jumper and started making it with an exotic swim coach. Part one ended with him thinking: "Then I screwed it all up."

Let’s see how badly he messed thing up. The “they” Barry refers to in the opening paragraph of Part 2 are Jeff Hodges, his bungee jump buddy, and Dari Pedralis, his college swim coach dreamboat.

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BARRY BUNGEE JUMP

     If they were fucking me one at a time, what would it be like with both of them at once? A threesome. Something I’d never done before. I could blow Dari’s dusky tool while Jeff buried his fair one in my ass. All the time, they could admire one another. For the next session, we could switch up. I’d get a Dari fuck and give a Jeff blow. Wasn’t much chance they’d have at one another. They were too macho for that.

     For a while, I didn’t think I was going to be able to manage it, but when Dari expressed some interest in hearing about one of my bungee jump trips, I managed to wrangle an invitation from Jeff for my exotic-looking swimmer to accompany us on an overnighter to the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge outside of Taos. Dari was all for staying in a motel, but Jeff and I preferred to camp out. It was touch and go for a moment, but finally Dari agreed to rough it.

     The drive up the Rio Grande to Taos was interesting, as usual. Folks from around here never called it the Rio Grande River, claiming that’s redundant because “Rio” means river in Spanish. Just like locals never call that long, grinding hill before you get to Santa Fe La Bajada Hill. You got it…la bajada means hill.

     Once we made it through New Mexico’s capital city and breezed by the National Cemetery and the Santa Fe Opera, conversation loosened up a bit. I don’t know why, but it seemed to me Jeff and Dari were a little stiff-legged around one another. Talking about sports relaxed things, even if Jeff was going on about basketball while Dari was talking swimming.

     The big mud pile before you enter Taos always drew my eye. That wasn’t a very respectful way of describing Taos Pueblo, which is a lot older than the town and the home of the Taos Indians, but I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just what the place reminded me of from a distance—tiers and tiers of dried mud. One day, I was going to talk Jeff into slowing down enough to visit the pueblo, but bhen we got this close to the bridge, my thirst for a bungee jump inevitably interfered.

     Once in town, we headed west toward Tres Piedras, passed by the city airport, and pretty soon were approaching the Rio Grande Gorge. The view when approaching the big bridge spanning the chasm was sorta flat and stark, but the view from the bridge was awesome. I used to play tourist and haul big rocks out on the deck to throw over the side into the gorge. They disappeared into nothingness before striking the water or the shore over 600 feet below us. Actually, the river looks like a little trickle from the bridge, but the Rio Grande in this part of New Mexico was a world class, white-water rafting site.

     But rafting and stone-bombing rafters fighting the water below us wasn’t on my mind today. It turned out that Dari had some experience in bungee jumping, so we got down to it pretty quickly. The guys honored my teenaged enthusiasm and let me go first. Dari helped me hook up in Jeff’s body and ankle harnesses while Jeff affixed the gear box and checked the equipment. Some guys buy a ready-made braided shock cord of latex encased in a tough outer cover, but Jeff made his own rope, leaving it unbraided—which meant he omitted the outer cover. This gave us softer rebounds and longer jumps.

     In no time at all, I did a swan dive over the edge of the structure…right into space. There weren’t any words for the exhilaration I got out of free-falling. As the river rushed up at me, the tiny rocks becoming bigger and sharper, I left my stomach somewhere behind me. Of course, with only 200 feet of cord, I was nowhere near the bottom of the gorge, but it seemed like I was going to keep plunging straight into oblivion.        Then the elastic cord slowly grabbed me. I decelerated, but kept dropping. When tension equaled my weight, I halted. Zero at zero, they called it. After a seemingly long pause, I rebounded into the air, providing a charge of a different sort. My stomach seemed to pass me as I shot upward. It wouldn’t catch up until I quit bouncing.

     All too soon, it was over, and I was hanging head down with blood pounding in my ears as my two friends winched me back to the bridge. I wished it would never end…even this part of it.

     Dari went next, and his graceful dive reminded me he was a swimmer…and presumably a diver. His deep voice echoed his pleasure up and down the steep-sided canyon. I helped winch him up and checked the cord while Jeff prepared for his jump. He had good form, too. Of course, he’d done this a bazillion times before. Then as we manned the winch to drag him back up, Dari said something strange.

     “Wonder what would happen if we just left him there.”

     “Well, he sure isn’t gonna climb back up that cord. A braided one…maybe…but not this one.”

     Dari shrugged as he applied himself to the gear box and started cranking. “Don’t tell me the thought’s never crossed your mind when you’re hanging head down at the end of a long cord.”

     I shook my head and helped him with the lever. In truth, the possibility of this unlikely event had never occurred to me. Such was my trust in the people I traveled with.

     We each took one more jump and then started looking for a place to pitch camp. Jeff wasn’t interested in a public place, so we found a spot farther west that was private and had some tree coverage. Tension began to rise as we pitched our tents. Rather as they pitched their tents. I didn’t own one. Looked like I might not get that threesome I wanted to try, but with a little careful planning, I could spend part of the night with each of these handsome dudes. Next best thing.

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With all the tension going on between Barry’s two lovers, it does appear he may have blundered. On the first of next month, at my regular post time, we’ll learn just how much.

Thanks for checking out the site. I’m open for comments.

Mark

New posts are published at the first of every month at 6:00 a.m.

How about some short fiction?

Let’s go back to some short fiction this week. Meet Barry Prescott, who’s called Barry Bungee Jump because of his passion for the sport.

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BARRY BUNGEE JUMP

     My name’s not really Barry Bungee Jump. It’s actually Barry Max Prescott, but I’m so nutty about bungee jumping, the fellows started calling me that. I can’t explain the rush I get from making suicidal leaps and being snatched from the clutches of death at the last possible moment. I go looking for a jump whenever I can, and that’s not often enough for me. Guys keep warning me I’m gonna go blind from all that jerking around, but I’ll take my chances.

     Problem is, I don’t have any money, and it takes money. Equipment isn’t a problem. I don’t own any. I just borrow somebody elses, even the ankle or chest harnesses. But getting to the jump places is sometimes a concern. And, of course, the bail bond and fine money can be a major hassle if you jump off places where it’s against the law. And what bungee jumper hasn’t tried that?

     I’m nineteen, but don’t look it. Most guys take me for around fifteen. Pisses me off at times, but it works in my favor, too. I discovered a long time ago that I like guys. Figured I’d grow out of the hand jobs my buddies and me did sometimes, but instead they turned into blowjobs and belly fucking. It wasn’t until last year I figured out how looking like a kid could help me with my passion.

     This older guy—musta been about thirty—named Jefferson Hodges was a big deal in the bungee world, at least in Albuquerque. We got to talking at a local hangout one day, and he invited me to go up to Taos with him the next weekend.

     I jumped on it in a New York minute and didn’t bother to tell him I didn’t have any gear until we met that Saturday morning. He laughed and said we’d make do. I figured we’d end up making more than that, and I was right. But I didn’t expect the dude to fall in love. Still, that’s what he said the last time I sucked his dong. We did it so much that weekend, I worried about him having the strength to haul me back up, even if he did have a gear-lock box to help out.

     He kept on calling and coming around so much my roommates at the off-campus apartment on Grand Avenue started razzing me about it. Didn’t bother me. He was a buff, good-looking guy with a solid economic foot on the ground.

     Anyway, it was a soft life for a while. Then I met Dari, and things got complicated. Dari was a swim coach at the U, but since I didn’t swim, I’d never met the guy until I crashed a frat house party early in the semester. As soon as I saw him walk across the room with two glasses in hand, I knew I had to have the guy. Tall, slim, and foreign looking. That’s what got me, his dark, sloe eyes. I was drawn to alien glamour the same way some are drawn to my little boy looks. Exotic is erotic, at least to my eyes.

     As soon as he delivered the drink to a guy standing alone in the far corner, I knew I was in. Toothpick Wilkinson didn’t look his age, either, but his nickname defined him totally. I not only looked younger than he did, but I also had discernable body parts. I walked up, said hello to Toothpick, and proceeded to destroy his evening. Before midnight, Coach Darius Pedralis and I were in his bed doing all sorts of delightful things, including one I’d never attempted before.

     Guys been trying to part my buns for years, but I’d never let one in … until Dari. As he stared at me with those hypnotic eyes that night, I let him raise my legs to his broad, dark shoulders and rub his dripping cock up and down my puckerhole. I was so fascinated I almost didn’t feel his penetration. But I did feel the athletic fucking he gave me and vowed he could do this any time he wanted.

     On our next jump trip, I offered my ass to Jeff. Man, did he go for it. And he was great at it, too. But he had a different attitude about it. Dari expected it; Jeff appreciated it. If Jeff hadn’t still been in the closet to his family, I think he’d have asked for my hand in marriage.

     For a little while, I had a great thing going. Two studs, as different as a peach from a persimmon, were fucking me regularly. And one of them was hauling me around the state to every bungee location we could find.

     Then I screwed it all up.

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Obviously we’ll see how Barry messed everything up next time, and I won't wait a month to post. Somewhere around the middle of the July we'll learn how badly he bungled thingsl.

Thanks for checking out the site.

Mark

New posts are published at the first of every month at 6:00 a.m.