I hadn't long moved into my new house before my new neighbour made me a really friendly offer.

"Hey, there, Joe," he said, wandering into my unfenced back yard from his own. "Got any plans for the next two days?

"Not really, " I replied. "I was thinking of doing a little touch-up painting, but it's a little hot today." My house was a fixer-upper and there were all sorts of small repairs and improvements it needed. I had planned on renting a place, but I saw this place going for a song, and jumped at it. It had a nice lot, and a great view of the Strait and Vancouver Island, ten miles across the water.

My neighbour was a married man with three kids, He was maybe forty years old. It was hard to tell, but he looked to be in great shape, whatever age he was, but fifteen to twenty years older than me, anyway. The real estate agent had mentioned that the thought he was a truck-driver or a logger. Whichever it was, the guy was away from home a lot.

I did know his name was Sam. I had chatted briefly with him and his wife Darcy a couple of times. Their three kids seemed nice, too, all boys, the oldest boy about fifteen, and the youngest about ten.

"The painting can wait," he suggested. "Wouldn't it be better to spend a night camping up the lake?"

I'd not been "up the lake" yet, but I did know the town, which sat right on the coast, was backed by a freshwater lake - or series of them - which ran nearly forty miles back into the coastal mountains.

"The wife and boys have gone to Vancouver Island to a ball tournament. They won't be back till tomorrow night. I thought it might be fun for the two of us to head up the lake in my tin boat, camp overnight, and do a spot of fishing. What do you say?" He gave me a great big shit-eating grin. I could hardly refuse. Apart from being a nice guy, he was a real hunk, with a terrific body!

"All my camping stuff is still in storage in Vancouver," I told him. I haven't finished moving all my stuff up here yet."

"Don't let that stop you," Sam told me. I've got a decent two man tent, an extra sleeping bag, and a cooler full of food, and another one full of beer. All you need to bring is a change of clothes in case you fall in."

"Sounds good to me," I said. "I'd love to go!"

"Great," he smiled. "I'll be ready to leave in about half an hour."

Half an hour later, I was waiting by his pick-up. He had already hooked up his small trailer with his 10 foot aluminum boat and outboard on it

It was a short run to the lake, and only another short wait in line to use the boat ramp. In another few minutes we were on our way. His open aluminum boat wasn't as elegant as some of the cabin cruisers we saw in the marina at the boat launching ramp, nor some of the ones which speed past us heading up the lake, but it did the job.

Soon we had left civilization behind us. We saw fewer and fewer other boats as we puttered our way past dozens of small bays, some almost hidden, others with cabins on their shores or houseboats moored in them.

The afternoon sun was beating down on us furiously.

Eventually we were in a lonely stretch of the lake. There was no sign of any other boats or cabins. We were with nature.

"We've got a ways to go yet, but it's time for a dip. We'll pull in to this little bay I know just ahead," shouted Sam above the noise of the outboard motor. Sure enough, just a little way further on was a small opening in the shoreline, almost like a small river's mouth. Sam steered the boat into it. A few yards in, it opened out into a small lagoon, maybe 100 feet across. Sam cut the engine and we glided to a stop. I looked over the side. The still, clear waters were maybe ten feet deep below us.

"I love it in here," he said. "Nobody else ever comes in here. It's like my private lake." As he spoke he was stripping off his clothes. In no time, he was naked, his large penis waving free. I liked what I saw. I was tempted to reach out and touch it. He seemed oblivious of my staring at his cock.

"Come on," Sam urged. "Get your clothes off. Let's take a swim."

I did as he urged and soon was as naked as he. I was a bit surprised to catch him eying up my meat, though. Straight men don't usually look at other guys' cocks so blatantly. They usually check them out from the corner of their eyes.

The boat was fairly flat-bottomed, so it was very stable. Sam stood and dived over the side, his white buttocks flashing in the afternoon sun. I followed his example. Probably because the water was comparatively shallow in this lagoon, the water was surprisingly warm, but wonderfully refreshing. We swam, and duck-dived, and spat water at each other for a while, then clambered back on board.

We sat in the boat, soaking up the sun, and letting it dry us off. As we did, I learned a little more about him. He was not a logger, but a truck driver. He owned his own rig, and contracted for a number of companies here in town. He kept his tractor in the yard of one of the freight companies he leased out to. He sometimes hauled for the logging companies, but mostly it was freight between here and Calgary or Edmonton. On those runs he was usually away from home for 4 days in a row.

"You should come with me for the ride some time," he suggested. "It's a different world on the highway from the cab of a semi!"

I agreed that it might be fun.

"Need to piss," Sam said, standing in the back of the boat. He held his large cock and began to leak over the side into the water, his piss making a stream of bubbles on the surface. Finished, he stroked the last few drops out.

But he didn't stop stroking. He continued to fondle his cock, pulling the foreskin back over the glans, and sliding it forward again.

"Ol' fella's playing up on me," he said, turning to face me, now with a raging hard on, probably eight inches long.

I was staring at it in fascination. He had a terrific cock. My own cock responded. In moments it had grown to its full six inches and stood erect.

Sam grinned. "I see you like what you see," he chuckled. "I like what I see, too," he added, nodding to my crotch. He sat on the bench seat opposite me and spread his legs. His hard cock bobbed up and down. I couldn't take my eyes off it. I wanted it inside me!

"I figured you were a gay guy," Sam said. "That's part of why I invited you. I swing both ways."

"I want to fuck you!" he stated flatly.

I wanted it, too, so all I said to this was "Here?"

"Sure," he responded. "The front two bench seats pop out, and we can spread one of the sleeping bags in the prow."

So that's what we did. In no time, I was face on the hull of the boat, my legs spread, eager for his cock. I heard him spit on his fingers and then apply it to my horny hole. Another spit, which I presume went onto his dick. A little pressure on my cherry ... then his huge dick raced into me. Spit isn't the greatest lube, and a searing pain raced through my vitals. I let out a sharp cry of pain.

"Sorry," Sam said. "You want me to pull it out?"

"No," I gasped. "I'll be OK. Just stay still for a moment till I get used to it." The almost-overwhelming pain, quickly subsided to nothing, and then grew, not into pain, but into pleasure. A feeling of completeness flooded through my bottom end. I loved having dick inside me!

"OK," I told him. "Just take it slowly at first."

Sam took me at my word, and began a slow withdrawal and then a slow pushing forward. The boat wobbled slightly on the flat waters from his movements. It was actually very soothing.

"Funny thing about guys," Sam mused. "If it hurts them, they cry rape! If it doesn't they cry great fuck!"

He was slowly picking up speed. He knew I didn't mind because I was pushing up to receive his downward thrust. He was soon ramming into be and forcing me hard against the boat's bottom. It sent a hollow slapping sound through the water beneath us.

"Man, your tight ass feels so good," Sam exclaimed. "I don't often get to fuck ass. Sometimes I'll pick up a hitch-hiker and he'll give me a blow-job in the cab, but it's not often I can get one to crawl into the sleeper with me and let me fuck his ass."

"You can fuck mine whenever you want, neighbour!" I panted, as his eight-inch cock reached places deep inside me. My own hard cock and balls were forced against the aluminum bottom.

By now he was really going at my ass with short, hard, rapid thrusts. Our fucking resounded through the metal of the boat and the surrounding water: Womp womp womp womp!

"Oh, fuck, yes," I cried. "Harder! Harder!" He did not disappoint me.

"I'm going to cum soon," he said in my ear. "Is it OK if I cum inside you?"

"Oh, yes! Do!" I always got a thrill out of a guy straining into me to release his load in my very depths. Now was no exception. Sam pushed down upon me with all his might as his sperm shot deep into my insides. It was always a secret pleasure to be carrying a mans' cum around inside me.

His dick and my ass made a sucking, plopping sound as he pulled out of me and my hole snapped shut again. I felt pleasantly warm down there. I rolled over and sat up, my dick still hard.

Sam nodded toward it. "I'll fix that up for you when we get where we are going to," he promised. We both pulled our pants and shirts on, because the sun was getting lower, and the afternoon wind down the lake was picking up. And there was always the prospect that we might encounter other boaters on the main lake. We didn't bother with undies and socks and sneakers.

It was a bit of a struggle getting my fly zip done up with my dick still hard and not underwear to help restrain it. I was a little worried that I might get my foreskin caught in the teeth if I were not careful. It had happened to me before, and it was not fun!

We chugged on up the lake on the power of Sam's small outboard motor. I bet we only used a fraction of the gas some of the big cabin cruisers that passed us used. All we had was the five-gallon tank and a one-gallon spare.

Above the noise of the motor, Sam called to me.

"Not far further up, there's a place we call the washout. It's where a beaver dam or a natural dam has broken higher up the mountain some time in the past. It's left a nice sandy little beach with a stream running through. We'll camp there if there is not anyone already camping there."

Knowing what I knew about Sam now, I understood why he wanted us to be alone. That's what I wanted, too.

We soon pulled in to a sandy beach in a small bay. I leapt out and pulled the prow up on the sand, while Sam cut the motor and tipped it up. Together, we lugged to stuff he had bought along to a spot under some p spindly trees. The tent was one of those ones with its own snap-together frame and went up easily. We were screened from direct sight of the lake by a stand of bushes, so we had our own private little campground. Anyone cruising down the lake would see only the top of our tent, and maybe out heads and shoulders above the bushes.

It didn't take us long to take advantage of this fact. We shucked off our clothes in no time. Sam started wanking his cock, teasing me with it. I took his bait immediately. He had hooked me.

I dropped to my knees in front of him.

"Suck this, boy!" he ordered, jokingly.

"Yes, Sir, Captain," I replied, and took his cock, which he had already squeezed a drop of pre-cum from, licked up the juice, then opened my mouth to take the whole head in. I went to work on it with my tongue and teeth.

"Oh, Christ!" he exclaimed. "You are as good a cock-sucker as you are a butt-fuck!"

I took his cock out of my mouth long enough to mumble, "I have all sorts of hidden talents. You ain't seen nothin' yet."

I went back to my ministrations to his dick-head, licking and chewing and sucking, but he interrupted me.

"I promised I'd get you off," he said. "What do you want to do?"

"Hm," I mused. "How about you suck me for a bit, then I fuck you?"

I lay on my back in the lengthening late afternoon shadows I spread my legs, and Sam kneeled between them. He lowered his face to my groin and took the tip of my cock between his lips. He sucked gently tasting the early juices that had gathered in my shaft. He opened wider, and drove my six inches up into his throat. My cock was not a thick one, and he had no trouble deep-throating me. He deliberately contracted his throat muscles, and I felt them tighten on my dick-head. Relaxing again, he began bobbing up and down on my pole, shoving it far down his throat. It soon became too much for me, but I didn't want to cum yet.

I pushed him off me.

"Get on your hands and knees," I ordered. "I want to rim you, get you all nice and juicy, then fuck your ass," I told him.

"Sounds good to me, he agreed, assuming the position. "A win-win proposition for me!"

"And for me," I assured hi. "I like to lick ass, and I love to fuck, also."

Soon I was crouched behind him, my tongue seeking in his crack for his sweet manhole. I found it, and taste the sweet, nutty, salty taste of a man's ass, fresh from a dip in mountain lake water. I chewed at his ass, I rammed my tongue into his hole, I rubbed my stubbly chin over his perineum - the "taint" - it aint the cock and it aint the ass. Sam was gasping with delight. I spat into his hole and stuck one finger in, then two, then three. His hole opened to accept them. I'm sure if I'd had some decent lube handy, I could have fisted him. His tiny asshole was opening wide to accept me.

I returned to licking and sucking and spitting, moistening up his asshole for the penetration to come. His hole was getting very juicy. His body was producing fluids for lubrication of what it knew was to come, an assault on the sphincter muscles.

I kneeled between his legs and placed my dick against his wet, wet hole. I pushed, and my dick popped inside him, sliding easily up the channel. Sam didn't cry out in pain or anything; he just let out a loud "Ahhhh!" of pleasure as my rod slipped inside him, as if he was finally getting what he had been waiting a long time for. I fucked him long and hard before I spat my cum into him.

We didn't waste any time on fishing that night. We made a meal of wieners and beans and coffee, then retired into the tent to explore and get to know each other. It was clear that this might be our first night together, but it wouldn't be our last.

As I sucked him off one last time in the last light of the mid-summer twilight, on our combined sleeping bags, in the security of the tent, I considered the future in my new home, with Sam right next door.

Sam was promising to be a real good neighbour!

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