Walk in the mountains

We went for a hike in the mountains, sun shining, a few pure white clouds high above the peaks. The warm spring sun was melting the mountain snow, forming crisp clean streams. After walking a few miles, we came back to the old abandon cars. Old, rusty, half dismantled, but worth investigating, I wondered if Jimmy Hoffa was in the trunk of the 1950 Buick. While intriguing, the mystique wore off when we realized the time. And realized we hadn't eaten yet today. Back to the resort for lunch, the wind was brisk, chilly almost. The sun had lost its power of warmth. A quick sandwich and soda for lunch, they decided to go swimming, and I wanted to go back and get some souvenirs from the old cars, relics, actually. I gather the few tools I had out of my tackle box, and head back across the open land towards the hills, and the warmth of the sun in the still barren trees. Finding the cars, I set forth tearing into the dashboards, gathering gauges, speedometers and insignias. Collecting my prizes, I realize my hands are nicked and filthy. Reaching into one of the very few remaining piles of granular snow, I proceed to clean up. I had a few tissues to dry them off, and felt a need for a cigarette. The sun, very slight breeze and fresh air brought my senses to life. Inhaling the fresh air and nicotine, I trudge off in search of a place to sit and relax. A large rock not more than a few hundred feet away looks inviting. As I make my way, I feel my cock stiffening. What the hell, I tell my self as I unzip my jeans and pull out my dick. The warm breeze blowing me, the sun beating down on me, I watch my dick sway and balls bounce with each step. I feel invigorated, aroused, alive. A few strokes as I make my way to my rock. I shed my coat and toss it on the stone, lose my belt, unbutton my pants. The air is liberating, the sun, exciting as they play their game on my cock, and tease my balls. The only sounds I hear are the spring waters and my shortened breaths. Extremely wound up now, I start tracing circles around my head with my fingers, teasing myself to full arousal, playing with my balls with the other hand. I gradually wrap my hand around my shaft and begin to stroke myself. Completely oblivious to everything but the sensations going through my body, I dive into my self-enjoyment- a crowd of women could be cheering me on and I would have missed it! (Ok, that would have had my attention). Determined to turn myself inside out, I squeeze my dick harder as I stroke faster, fucking my fist and the warm air blowing me. I open my eyes and peer down to watch how my head is glistening with pre-cum, and massage it into my skin, twitching as my now-lubed hand slides over me with ease. The sun, the breeze, the intense quiet, and my own ministrations push me towards the inevitable. My breathing now ragged, as I get nearer, I increase my speed. A hot flush feeling flows over me as I arch my back, caress and coax my balls and see stream after stream of my hot cum shooting from my cock, landing on my chest, stomach and hands. Still in the high of orgasm I massage my cum into my cock as the heat from my skin and the sun warm me. I lay there for a while basking in the afterglow, light another smoke, and find some snow to clean up with. I wash my hands and, still hard, rub some cold snow on my cock. Strangely exciting, I stroke the last few drops of cum from my dick, put myself back together, and head back to the hotel. "You were gone a while, did you get lost?" If you only knew... It was a good day.