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Safe in the Tree

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The cherry tree was such a safe place when I was 14. I could see all around and no one could get me. It was cool on warm summer afternoons with the breeze tickling that newly acquired hair on my bare legs. I would sit up there for ages dreaming and thinking. Someone at school gave me a naughty book and I would take that up there to read in safety.


The hammock seat was lovely and I remember rocking there feeling my erection jutting up in my pants and longing for my parents to go out. If I was lucky they would do and then I was free to get it out and play with myself whilst gazing into the sky and watching the swallows. It felt very erotic with the soles of my bare feet against the bark and the fresh air on the wet end of my knob. I would come into my hand and wipe it off on the tree bark. It seemed the most natural and lovely thing doing it outdoors. These were some of my best orgasms as a boy.

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