Skinny Dipping
By Chris Owen
Pre-Bareback
He never meant to watch. He never meant to see
anything at all, and he certainly didn't intend to spy. It wasn't
part of Jake's nature to intrude on someone's privacy. And yet,
there he was, utterly unable to move. River was no help at all,
the horse merely standing quietly while Jake peered through
the brush like a common peeper, frozen in his saddle.
He'd been riding the fence line, more or less just taking it
easy. It was a great day for a ride, and things on the spread
were in a bit of lull, so he'd taken River out for the afternoon
as he usually did if there was time. And just like he always
did on those easy days, he'd headed home along the bank of the
small river, keeping in mind the one good spot to stop and cool
down for a while. That side of the river was mostly lined with
brush and scrub trees, but there was a bit of beach that was
easy to access, and it was perfect for the horses to get a drink
and for the rider to sit in the shade before going back to the
stable and work.
Thing was, though, when he got there the spot was already taken.
He'd heard whistling as he and River approached, and then what
was pretty much a shout. For some reason instinct had made Jake
stop instead of going right in to investigate the shout, and
he'd craned his neck to see who was on the beach.
Through the branches of the trees he'd only been able to see
Lug, and that had really been enough. It wasn't like the men
on the ranch really owned any of the horses, but like River
and himself, the hands tended to ride the same horse if they
could. Lug was pretty much only taken out by Tor, and that was
good enough reason for Jake to turn and head for home. The last
thing he wanted was his pleasant day wrecked by an arrogant
snarky ranch hand who had a disturbing tendency to make Jake
uncomfortable in his own skin.
He meant to leave. He fully intended to go back to the bunk
house, take a shower and get ready for supper.
He wound up sitting on River's back and staring.
The shout came again, followed by Tor's laugh. "Damn, that's
cold!" A splash later, and Jake could see Tor swimming.
The water wasn't deep, not really deep enough to get a good
dive in, but it was plenty deep enough for floating; Jake hadn't
even had time to move: Tor just… swam into view.
Jake, at that moment, felt nothing more than mild exasperation
that his own swim was ruined. He smiled though, unable not to
in the face of Tor's obvious delight and nudged River forward
a step, planning on heading home.
Tor rolled over to float and Jake froze.
Part of him insisted that he was only staring
because of the total picture. The river, calm now in
summer where in spring it was a rushing, violent torrent. The
trees, dropping leaves and shade. The horse, placidly waiting
for Tor to finish. The naked man in the sunlight.
Very naked. Very tanned above his hips, paler legs and white
white white… middle. A gathering of contrasts, floating
in the middle of the river. Dark and pale and darker hair and--
Tor yelped and turned over again, swam closer to the river bank
and stood up. He was shaking, laughing, merrily dripping. "Cold!"
he said loudly, grinning to himself. He was knee deep in the
water, picking his way over the rocks toward the tiny beach.
Jake's breath was caught in his chest, but there
was still time to go, time to write it off as something accidental.
It was only a few seconds of watching, easy to dismiss. He gathered
River's reins in his hand and forced himself to breathe, engaged
his brain enough to at least know that he should, would
make River move… he would.
Tor stood up straighter, took the last few steps
to the beach, and Jake realized he had moved. Not toward
home, no, but he had at least managed to somehow shift River
enough that he could see better.
Tor was smiling, his face turned up into the sun, but Jake's
willpower wasn't up to the challenge of looking at his face.
No, Jake's gaze soaked in the wet, glistening skin of Tor's
chest, brown from the sun and silky smooth. Water trailed from
Tor's hair down over his solid shoulders to streak over his
chest, past dark nipples, peaked from the cold. Hard abdominal
muscles that shifted enticingly with ever twist of Tor's body
as he ran his hands through his hair, shaking off more drops.
Narrow hips, white and defined by tan lines, the gentle curve
of the bones and muscles seducing Jake's eyes and body and brain,
and there wasn't anything about the bigger picture in this.
No, it was a stuffy of contrasts, a close-up photo, a fragment
of the whole that had Jake paralyzed.
Dark curling pubic hair, drying fast and springing up. Tor's
penis, half hard and pale, swaying ever so gently.
Rising.
Jake came back to himself in a rush, dizzy with shame and wanting.
He didn't even like Tor; but Christ, he wanted him. He was aching
with it, his chest hurting as he tried to breathe. He had to
leave, had to get away, and soon. He forced himself to move
his scrutiny higher, lower, anywhere but where it was. It was
wrong on so many levels to sit and stare at Tor's cock.
He could get caught.
Jake wrenched his eyes away, up to Tor's face, and swallowed
hard. He tensed his thigh, ready to signal River, but then--
Tor turned and laughed again, said something to Lug, and Jake
bit off a moan, staring at Tor's ass. White and perfect, and
Tor's hands were sweeping water off his legs, he was bending
down and Jake's prick was pulsing, fighting his good sense.
Mouth dry, Jake sat there, hidden by trees which were so very
little cover, and watched. He watched Tor touch himself, watched
him walk and laugh, and eventually swim again. Jake didn't move,
didn't even breathe as Tor floated once more, on his back so
just his knees and upper body were above the water. He waited.
Once more Tor laughed and bitched about the cold water, once
more he got out and started to dry off, his ass and cock and
chest and thighs displayed, almost as if the whole show was
just for Jake.
Almost.
After the second swim, Tor sat on the one large rock, water
pooling around him and trickling down to the sand. He looked
up into the sun, smiling, and Jake felt his breath get shallow
and harsh.
When Tor's hand slid up one thigh, when strong fingers cupped
his balls and Tor's legs spread, Jake fled, unable to take any
more, unwilling to live with himself if he watched.
But he dreamed about it. |
