A Night in the Pennines

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This is a simple straightforward tale of two guys who meet and enjoy a night together whilst they walk in the hills by day. It’s pretty innocent and won’t take long to read. It won’t be continued.


I had enjoyed a few days off from my work and as all my mates were working I packed my rucksack and headed for the hills to walk a few stages of the Pennine Way I had only previously walked in torrential rain and not seen a thing.

I was using hostels and started out at the lower end of the walk. There were not many of us in the hostel, meals were provided and I got chatting to another guy of about my age during the main course. We came from similar backgrounds and were enthusiastic for the hills. He was pretty good looking. We talked about places we’d been and what we’d done and by the time we got to the sponge pudding I suddenly realised how interesting I was finding him. I had been concentrating on him as we talked and not realised how wet and sticky I was making my underpants. I was excited he was sleeping in the bunk above mine. I watched him cross the room to get us a couple of mugs of tea and watched his nice neat arse swaying as he went.

Briefs or trunks I wondered as he walked. There was no outline showing through his corduroy shorts but I got the message they were white because his shirt was tucked inside them and they had risen well above his waistband. I’ll come out now and say that is a fetish I know I have. I love to see a waistband on show or to see another guy in a changing room or dormitory with his shirt tucked in his underwear. I have no idea why I have it, but I do and when I masturbate in bed my imagination always begins with a guy who has his waistband showing. I don’t really care what style his underpants are but güvenilir bahis have a preference for old full rise briefs or loose fitting white trunks and boxers. We smile as we both realise we’re showing our undies and smile some more dreamily hoping his pants are both heavily skidded and piss stained. I have quite frequently got this far in real life but my imagination has taken me to Heaven and back s I dream of exploring one another. Somehow I need to get beyond imagination but in the meantime in the real world I like chatting to Michael. I get up and go and replenish our mugs of tea and we take them to the quiet room and the subject of education came up and the schools we had been to.

Michael had been to a private school for boys till he was twelve and then onto a middle ranking public boarding school. He knew little about his parents and showed no interest in talking about them. I told him I was a grammar school boy and been to a provincial university. It almost went without saying he’d been to Oxford.

We laughed about our teachers and he told me about punishments he had received for what to me seemed like nothing. It seemed to me at his school they were caned for waking in the morning whereas I had received it for smoking and fighting and once for doing a piss in my pants during a lesson. This really made him laugh and tales of school punishments really bought him to life and he mentioned me pissing my pants several times seeming excited by it. As we talked I dribbled and I realised he was watching as over the next hour I dribbled my briefs quite wet.

About ten we went to bed. As we climbed the stairs he giggled at my wet shorts and told me he understood why I got spanked.There was only one other guy in the dormitory which only held four beds türkçe bahis anyway. If Michael and I were mid twenties he would have been mid thirties, quite slim and so quiet we did not not try to talk to him for any length of time. As it happened he was a shirt tucker as well, his polo tucked into what looked like girls panties. He was not in the least attractive, well not to me at least.

The guy left the room for a wash and Michael said, “that blokes wearing girls knickers.”

“Have you never worn knickers Michael.”

His face was a little red, “actually I do sometimes wear my sisters old schoolgirl gym knickers.”

“Does she know?”

“I reckon she does but I always wash them clean and put them back where I found them, like I found them. Have you ever worn any?”

“Of course – sis still has a draw full of gym knickers. I once did a shit in a pair of her maroon ones. I was glad it was a stiff one and the clean up was easy!”

“Do you shit your pants very often?”

“Not often enough!”

Michael dropped his shorts and revealed he was wearing trunks. I was sat on the edge of my lower bunk bed and his undies were quite close up. They were yellow beyond dribbles and he smelled of dried pee albeit the smell was not too rank. The other guy had his back turned to us and appeared to be sleeping so I took a chance and put on a hand on Michaels trunks. He made no move to remove it and I kept it there. He gasped a little and said, “don’t stop” so I didn’t! He was not huge but quite adequate for me. His trunks were wetter than his pre-cum would have made him but mingled with piss they slid up and down his cock and whilst I was in hurry for him to cum within a couple of minutes his creamy cum was shooting through his wet cotton and into my güvenilir bahis siteleri hand. I licked it down and leaned mush further forward and taking his cock out through the fly and into my mouth. The room was silent apart from the sleepers breathing and Michaels and mine gasping. He thrust and I did all I could to get a repeat performance but it was not to be. He sat down next to me on the edge of the bed and said quietly, “tomorrow on the moor.”

He climbed up into his bed and seemed to fall instantly asleep. I was restless through the night. The third man farted constantly and quite loudly. His farts stank. I had just looked at my watch and seen it was six when the guy climbed rapidly from his bed and left the room looking uncomfortable and holding his bum. When he returned his knickers were stained quite thickly and he grovelled in his rucksack and pulled out a pair of what were undisputedly bottle green knickers whilst pushing his soiled pair deep inside his rucksack. I was aroused as he put on a white polo tucking it into the knickers. He looked so horny – to me at least – I could have been very dirty with him. By the time Michael and I got up he was well gone.

The day was glorious. I was heading to Marsden and home and Michael was carrying on his walk until, he hoped he made the Scottish village of Kirk Yetholm. Before we parted we collapsed in deep dry heather and he gave me a most superb blow job. That was what it was – a simple straightforward blow job – he undid my trousers and he sniffed me all over my smelly briefs. He chewed and sucked at me through me through the damp cotton of my pants and I came in wonderful plentiful squirts which he enjoyed and when I had subsided I pulled him over my lap and gave him the good firm spanking he had been talking about. Then he did the same for me and I realised just how much I missed my schooldays!

We never exchanged addresses or phone numbers but simply headed off on our ways. I hope he got lucky again.


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