Don't Read in the Closet: Volume Four (45 page)

bucket and a gourd.

“Wow,” said Matt. “You built all this?”

The man nodded.

“I can see why you wouldn’t want to have to build this setup over

again.”

The man led him to the hut. “This is where I sleep. It’s not built

for two,” he said. “But it will be better if you sleep inside.” He

pointed to the door on the front of the hut. “When the door is closed,

snakes can’t get in. It also stops the mosquitoes.”

Matt peered into the hut. It was about ten feet wide. A large

hammock was strung along the right wall.

“You will sleep in the hammock,” the man said. “I will be on the

floor.”

Matt nodded. “OK. Thanks.”

“It will be dark soon.” The man pointed at Matt’s backpack with

his machete. “Put your pack in the corner of the hut and get in the

hammock. I’ll be outside. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Matt went inside the hut and set his backpack in the corner. He

didn’t have any pajamas to wear. All he had was what the man had

already seen: his tank top and his briefs. He took off his sandals and

shorts. Then he took off the tank top too. He’d been rowing in it all

day. He imagined it was rank by now. He left the turquoise briefs on.

He climbed into the hammock. It was rapidly getting dark.

Matt did not know what to make of the stranger. When he’d

packed up his stuff, he’d noticed that his MP3 player was missing.

The man must have kept it. After the snakebite, the man had stopped

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pointing the machete at him—but he still carried it with him at all

times. He appeared to be the kind of man who just took whatever he

wanted. Maybe that was what he had to do to survive. Matt wondered

what the man planned to do with him. He’d given Matt little choice

about staying in the hut and sleeping on the hammock. No doubt, that

was so he could keep a close eye on him. But there was no way Matt

would try to run away at this point anyway. Where would he go? The

man had hidden his canoe.

Now that he knew the man’s hiding place, he knew he posed a

risk. With a drug lord for a father, the man must be accustomed to

people using force to get their way. But despite the machete, the man

didn’t seem like the violent type. Matt sensed an underlying quality

about him. Matt could see it in the way the man held himself. He

could hear it in the way he talked. The man spoke assertively, but

beneath it, Matt heard a certain demeanor in his voice. The fineness of

the man’s features and the tailored fit of his clothes suggested a

refined sensibility that didn’t match the gruff behavior. But the most

telling insight came from Matt’s own feelings. In some strange way,

he felt drawn to the man. It startled him to realize this. It was as if the

man had awakened something in him—something he knew was there

but had always kept in check.

Matt made himself as comfortable as he could and then called to

the man. “OK,” he said. “You can come in.”

The man came into the hut and busied himself rolling out a mat he

brought in from outside. He then moved an oil lantern to a spot near

the head of the hammock. He struck a match and lit the lantern. He

picked up a pillow from the top of a cardboard box and set it on the

end of the mat. Then he turned to Matt. “I don’t have a pillow for

you,” he said. “But I will give you something to use.”

Matt nodded.

The man picked up his machete, went back to the box and pulled

out a rolled t-shirt. He handed the roll to Matt. Matt took it and stuffed

it under his head. Then he lay back in the hammock, feeling decidedly

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 263

indecent wearing nothing but his skimpy briefs. He watched the man

in the light of the oil lamp with curiosity. He wondered what the

stranger would wear to sleep.

The man too seemed undecided about what he would wear. He

turned away from Matt’s gaze. Facing the wall, he set down his

machete. He stood quietly for a moment. Then he took off his pants.

He wasn’t wearing underwear. He stepped closer to the wall and hung

the pants on a hook. Then he just stood there, facing the wall—not

moving.

Matt gulped. He hadn’t expected the man to be naked under the

pants. He realized that this was normally a very private place. So it

only made sense that the man would sleep naked. Even so, the sight of

the man’s bare buttocks startled him. He had seen plenty of men

naked in the locker room. This was hardly any different. But there was

something about the flickering light and the close quarters that made it

feel quite different. In fact, Matt felt like something peculiar was

happening. There was an odd nervous energy in the room.

He wondered when the man would turn around. Maybe he should

look the other away. What if the man turned and saw Matt lying there

gazing at his body? Would he be offended? But the man was acting

strangely too. He had hung his pants on the hook, but then he’d

stopped dead. He wasn’t moving a muscle. It was puzzling. Was he

afraid to turn around?

Then the naked man reached up and leaned both hands against the

wall, as if he was getting a pat down. Matt could hear him breathing.

His breath was coming fast and hard. There was a muscle quiver in

the man’s plump butt cheek. After a moment, his breathing slowed.

He seemed to gather himself, and then he turned around.

Matt couldn’t help himself. He looked directly at the man who

stood before him. He looked at every part of him—at the golden

brown smooth chest, at the sinewy cut torso. He let his eyes float

lower. He saw the man’s cock. It dangled long and slightly curving.

There was something odd about how it hung. It skewed to the left.

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Matt saw that the man was uncircumcised. But he also saw that the tip

of the head protruded slightly from the foreskin. Maybe that was just

how it was. Matt was circumcised. So he didn’t know much about the

various natural states of uncut men. But something about the man’s

state seemed unusual.

Matt looked up at the man’s face, and saw that the man was

looking back at him with an equally frank curiosity. The man just

stood there, stark naked, looking at Matt. He made no move to lie

down on his mat. The expression on his face was confusing. His

mouth was slightly twisted. It didn’t make sense. The door was

closed. There was no reason for the man not to lie down. But the man

looked funny. And he didn’t move.

Matt began to feel funny too. He studied the man’s face. He was a

very handsome man. There was no denying it. His face was beautiful,

but his eyes were intense and demanding. The mixture of those eyes

and that body produced a mesmerizing effect. And the man was now

gazing at Matt with a wanton look that was impossible to misread.

The man reached up and flicked at one of his nipples with his finger,

like he was shooing a fly. Matt suddenly felt his blood move—as if it

had a mind of its own. His blood moved to his groin. He felt his penis

thicken.

The man blinked. There was no doubt that he noticed the twitch in

Matt’s groin. He stared at Matt’s crotch. Matt’s briefs left nothing to

the imagination. That small twitch in the pouch of Matt’s briefs had

an instant effect on the man. Matt watched transfixed as the head of

the man’s penis crept further out of its hood. What was happening?

The two men were staring at each other, and each of them, it seemed,

was having an effect on the other.

Matt gulped again. There was no other way to interpret what was

going on. The erotic energy in the room had suddenly become

palpable. He stared now, looking directly and openly at the man’s

cock. And as he did so, he felt himself get harder. He could feel his

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 265

penis begin to press up against his briefs, stretching the spandex

fabric.

The man tilted his head. When he saw the bulge in Matt’s crotch

move, he took a step closer. Now the man watched as the twisting

shape of Matt’s penis rose like a snake being charmed to life. In

response, the man’s cockhead swelled more rapidly. It arched by

degrees out of its foreskin, curving further and further to the left. Then

as it continued to extend, it righted itself, until it was stretching

upwards and forwards. In ten seconds, the man’s cock expanded out

to an enormous length, until it was fully erect. It pointed in a long

arcing upward curve, extending straight out in front of him with such

magnitude that it looked like the man ought to lose his balance.

In response to seeing the man’s erection, Matt’s cock likewise

began to push so forcefully against the pouch of his briefs that it

ached. His underwear had become distorted. His engorging penis was

trapped inside, and there was no more give in the fabric. The man

watched with wide eyes. He took another step forward. He looked

down into Matt’s eyes. Then suddenly he reached down, and yanked

at the turquoise briefs. He tugged them down hard. He pulled the

waistband over the bulk of the organ trapped inside. Matt’s cock leapt

up like a tightly wound spring. Matt just lay there, letting it happen.

He was overwhelmed with sexual desire—more intense desire than

he’d ever felt in his life. How could this be happening?

Without saying a word, Matt sat up in the hammock. He pulled his

briefs all the way off. He peered at the penis that stood thrust in front

of him. He could not help himself. He hungrily swallowed the end of

the man’s bobbing cock. He had never done such a thing before—but

he did so now with the relish of a man who was starving for it. It was

something Matt had dreamed of doing his whole life. He had never

dared to act upon the desire until now. But at this moment, here, in the

middle of the Amazon jungle, where no one knew anything about

him, he could do—at last—the thing he had always wanted to do.

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When Matt tasted the man’s cock in his mouth, he marveled that

he had waited so long to do this. He slurped and licked. He tried to

take the long fat organ down into his mouth as far as he could. He

swallowed it in until it pressed so solidly against the back of his throat

that he knew in a moment he would gag.

The man stood by the side of the hammock. He looked as if he

might swoon, the way Matt had swooned earlier. Suddenly, he hastily

and forcefully withdrew his penis from Matt’s mouth. He pulled the

side of the hammock down. He half threw, half rolled himself onto

Matt’s body. Without hesitation, the two men began to kiss. They

sucked wildly at each other’s mouths, with so much sudden desire that

it seemed like they might forget to breathe. They were like mad

animals. So frenetic were their movements that the hammock began to

swing wildly from side to side. Finally it swung over and pitched

them out and onto the floor.

That didn’t stop them. Instead, as if they had agreed upon a course

of action in advance, they rotated themselves in unison until each

man’s head and mouth was at the groin of the other. And then, within

moments of their landing on the floor, each was sucking on the other’s

cock. They tried to make sounds, but they couldn’t. Their voices were

muffled. Each man’s mouth was stuffed to the point of gagging.

After a long interval of sucking, as if through unspoken

communication, they each moved to explore new flesh. Each man

licked and slurped his way down the other’s cock to the nut sack

below. Each of them sniffed and tasted the sweat and skin of the

other’s scrotum. In unison, they each swallowed a sampling of the

other’s ball flesh. As if by design, each was imitating the moves of the

other. Each man in tandem caressed the supple sack inside his mouth

with flicks of his tongue.