He was a sight to see - a hairy bare-assed man with some water shoes, sunglasses, a hat, and a fishing vest. He took a step he slipped, fumbled his fishing pole and fell to the ground. What Bill had in girth, Jake had in length. He took each man's cock in one of his hands, Jake his left, and Bill his right, and softly, slowly started stroking them. Gus handed him a beer. Bill gasped and almost dropped the beers.
Bill watched, as Gus' firm, plump, hairy ass bounced slightly with each step he took.
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He stood up and guided them each to the tailgate pushing their backs down so they rested on their elbows with their asses facing the river. Gus exited his sleeping bag and crawled outside, stood, arched his back and slowly rotated his thick neck taking in pre-dawn calm. Downriver the two men were almost done making camp. Jake looked at Bill, then Gus, then back to Bill, and smiled. Gus ran his hands down each mans back til he was cupping their asses - Jake in his left hand, Bill in his right.
The man clumsily tried to gather himself, his fishing pole, and his now mostly empty beer. Far more than his relaxing fully nude bank fishing uniform, but he meant to explore more today - this was his first time at this spot and he needed to find the good holes. Repressed suburban dad, so caught up in the rat race and the day to days of obligation that that the freedom of his current predicament turned him into a bumbling, albeit sexy, pile of raging confused hormones. He was fond of his natural full body sweater, and enjoyed his naked fishing adventures where it was able breathe in nature and feel the whips of wind and water. He switched them out with the ones in his tackle box and made his way back to the river. He slipped into Jake first, who immediately tensed up. Gus reached out his hand to assist Bill to his feet and Bill took it.