Damn it was another really hot day!In fact, I'm pretty sure I could feel the water slowly evaporating from my body.I took another drink from my water bottle and watched the boys as they passed.I was perched on a brick wall outside of Sewall Hall waiting another half hour till my class started and the best I could come up with was looking for sweaty guys in the Colorado sun.I'd been attending Naropa for just over 2 years and the best thing about this place was the guys.It was a nice enough university I guess, but they have this thing about being “contemplative” that permeates the whole campus and it's common to see people meditating or holding hands in a big circle.And if I have to bow one more time to my prof at the beginning of class, I’m going to slit my own wrist. It’s weird if you ask me, but my parents didn't bother to ask me when I graduated from high school.It was "suggested" by my uncle that Naropa would be good for me - build my character, get me in touch with who I was, and more crap I never understood.I couldn't wait until I could be on my own, but the opportunities in Boulder for a twenty year-old are slim to none and staying at university was a good option for right now.And that meant that sitting on a hot brick wall, surrounded by boxwood hedges that were kept alive by constant watering, and looking at guys as they ran through the concrete archways to make their prayer meeting, was the best I could hope for right now.
I sat there a while longer and decided to make my way into Sewall Hall after the dehydration headache started.I sat in my usual spot, the very back of the class, and watched as the rest of the sheep herded themselves into their stalls. Philosophy was not my thing.If I had to contemplate for one more hour on how we really know we exist it would not go well.
I saw him then, as I knew I would.He sat a few rows in front of me.His hair looked wet on the back from where he'd wiped sweat off of himself from the sun outside.There was grass and dust on his white shirt so it was obvious that he was lying down outside somewhere. He lounged comfortably in the half chair half desk they had us sitting in.After we all bowed, our instructor started droning on, so I took my cue and slid lower in my seat, avoiding any potential of being called on.I watched as he silently wrote notes to the girl beside him and she wrote back.They smiled at each other a lot and touched too much to just be friends.
The first time I saw him he was naked.Well actually that's not quite true.The first time I saw him, I came up from behind him on my bike.I was content to stay behind him and just watch his ass in his bike shorts, but he noticed that I was behind him and he moved over to show me I could pass.I glanced back a few times to see if he would try and pace me, but he turned off and I lost sight of him.
We were both riding the trails of, southwest of Denver.If you take the back roads from Boulder to Colorado Springs you have to get on Country Road 126 heading south and drive through Pike National Forest; and the best way to enjoy the park is by mountain bike.I was making my way to Pikes Peak and seeing how far up I could get before the heat or the steepness of the climb forced me to stop.Halfway up I turned down a side trail I knew and ended up on a small rock ledge overlooking the valley.You could see for miles and I often stopped here to break before making another push to the top.I'd never actually made it.The exertion of getting up that mountain was too much for my lungs to handle.The sun, as always was high and scorching the red sands of the landscape.Even the pines seemed to be wilting in the heat.Not may people were out today as the temperature was holding steady at around 102 degrees.
I was looking down the slope beneath me and in the distance I could see the rider I passed earlier, careening down one of the many trails on the side of the peak.Iknew it was him because I could see his POC body armor.Expensive gear and his were red, matching the colour of his bike and his helmet.He was easy enough to spot from my vantage point given that he looked like a red Storm Trooper on a bike.I took out my binoculars and watched as he stopped in a clearing just off the trail he was on, walked a ways up the slope toward me taking his bike with him, and after carefully leaning it against a tree, he sat down on a dusty rock and took a drink from his bladder pack.
He stood up again, took his helmet chest armor off, and I finally got a better look at him as he poured water over his head and down his shirt.I wondered why he was stopping where he had, as it was well removed from the main trail. He walked toward the edge of the clearing closest to me and suddenly he pulled down the front of his riding shorts and exposed himself to me as he started to take a leak. I instantly felt a rush of excitement and fear, my pulse pounding in my ears, as he could easily spot me if he took the time to look up. I swallowed and stayed perfectly still not wanting anything to attract his attention toward me, and also wanting desperately to watch him finish. I said a quick prayer to the bike Gods that instilled a sense of practically in most mountain bike riders about not wearing underwear - it made it easier to take a piss on the trails and also the padding in our shorts feels like we're wearing a diaper anyway, so there is no need for the comfort of underwear.
We were about 200 yards apart, but my binoculars gave me a close up of his cock, and even given the lack of blood flow - a hazard for mountain bikers - he had nothing to be ashamed of!He was uncut, thick and the skin of his groin was naturally darker than the rest of his body. He shaved obviously as his patch of hair was cropped short and there was nothing to obstruct the view of his low hanging scrotum. The show was short-lived though and he zipped up and returned to his rock.He was sitting with his back to me and I felt easier about spying on him, knowing that a quick glance up from him wouldn't give me away.
My disappointment was beginning to set in when I noticed that he was looking around, back and forth.Then he started peeling his shirt off, and he didn't stop there.My heart quickened, and I felt my cock rise as he leaned forward and did a quick butt-hop off the rock, enough to shove his riding shorts over his shin pads and down to his ankles.I would have been satisfied with the view of his back and his ass pressed against the rock, but he had other ideas and he leaned back as far as he could, supporting himself with a hand behind him on the rock. Unknowingly, he had fully exposed himself to me.
He was very lean, and although most of him was tanned a golden brown, the area where he wore shorts, from the waist to the knees, was extremely white.His stomach was flat and rippled and he slowly grabbed his cock and worked himself hard.He spent his time massaging his shaft and then gave his balls a little rub or squeeze. I looked around myself to make sure no one was watching me and then went back to the view through my binoculars.I was terrified of being discovered, but even more so of not being able to watch him. I decided that even if anyone came down my path that I would stay right where I was.
He was incredible.I could see the sweat beading off his body and he kept jerking himself off slowly.Occasionally he would force his hand down the shaft of his cock, pushing it into the muscles of his groin, giving it a little flick back and forth to stiffen it up before returning to his rhythm. He was obviously enjoying himself, as I could see him writhe with pleasure from his own hand.He lifted his hand to his face, and although I couldn't see his face as I was looking at the back of his head from up high, I assumed he either licked or spit into his palm and he returned to his cock and worked at it even harder.He leaned back even further, his eyes closed when he lifted his head to the warm sun. Either in ecstasy or due to the brightness of the sun itself, whenever he brought his head back far enough that I could see his face, his eyes were closed. He brought his ankles, still covered by his shorts, up closer to his groin, spreading his legs wide in the process.The sun glinted off the small hairs on his quads as he strained to spread them as wide as he could. I was mesmerized by his pleasure, but I experienced a pang of guilt knowing that I was intruding on a very private act. Most guys would be horrified to find out that they were being watched when they took themselves through their own pleasure rituals. We know exactly what feels good and we do things with ourselves that we don’t ever let anyone else do to us. The guilt didn’t last though as my conscious flew out of my head when he started moving faster and more frantically. His cock responded by growing and reddening in colour.I imagined that I could hear him panting, but it was only me breathing heavily while watching him.
I couldn’t stand it any longer and I grabbed my own throbbing cock through the fabric of my riding shorts.The material rubbed against me and I was starting to drool copious amount of precum. I used it to lubricate the head of my cock and it gave me an instant euphoria that only intensified as I turned my attention back to my friend.
He was getting close.I could tell by the way he used the hand behind him to push his gleaming ass off the rock and arch his back.He began to thrust his hips, fucking his hand harder and harder.I thought I could hear him clearly now and he was moaning in pleasure.One final, hard push into his clenched fingers and he unloaded all over his stomach.He kept thrusting through his palm until he was spent and collapsed exhausted on the rock.He laid there for a few minutes running his hand over his slick belly, languishing in the feel of rubbing the cum on his chest.
My hand was now working furiously within my shorts and when I saw him lift his hand to his face and I imagined that he was licking his fingers, it was enough for me to completely lose it and I shot my load into my shorts while still rubbing my cock against the fabric.I stifled the urge to moan loudly and tried to bring my breathing under control. I sat there mesmerized as he stood up, wobbled a little as he lost his balance due to the shorts around his ankles still, brushed his butt off, took something out of his pack to clean off his stomach and chest, and then quickly looked around again and pulled his clothes on.
Not once did he look up at me watching him through my binoculars, my cum-slicked hand down my shorts, feeling the spasms of my body ripple through me. He put on his helmet, grabbed his bike and made his way back onto the trail.It only took him a few seconds to get up to speed and move around a bend in the trail.He was out of my sight and I laid back on my rock ledge and came a second time after I played the scene out in my head again.I was so tired afterwards, I skipped another run at the summit and made my way back down to where I’d left my truck.
For two weeks straight I went back to that very spot every day, but I never saw him on the trail again, but about a week later, as I was locking my Yeti up in front of Sewall Hall, I heard a voice."Nice bike."When I turned I saw a familiar face underneath the red helmet, his chest covered in red POC armor.I was stunned it was him."Thanks," I managed, still a little amazed to know that we had jerked off together and he didn't even know it."Nice gear!” I said, and that started a conversation, which lasted no more than two minutes, but gave me the idea that I would jerk off with this guy again; only he would know it when we did.
Sitting here, behind him in philosophy class, I decided that it was time to invite my new friend to come with me on my next ride up Pikes Peak.