Gone Fishin'
A story about a younger male with strange tastes who meets, by chance, an older male who happens to fulfill those tastes but who he is sure wouldn't return the feeling. Nonetheless, a friendship is struck up, and deeper things follow
GONE FISHING
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The banks of the river were a solitary place this early in the morning. For most, just getting up to go to work was enough to do on a weekday, but Owen was and had always been an early riser, and 5am was a comfortable habit of his. The frog couldn't say why he hadn't thought to go walking here before, after all he lived on the edge of the woods, where the river made its exit
Treading along the muddy bank, he loved the way his boots squelched and sank just a little into the ground. Everything about the forest seemed more refreshing to him right now. The smell of its air and of the river and the trees, the gentle noise of water and birds chirping, the light drizzle in the air, the unique colour of the early morning sky, he was in a state of bliss. It didn't hurt that it gave him an excuse to indulge in his favourite vice either, being dressed in a heavy black rubber waterproof suit and similar rubber boots. Both the suit and the tops of the boots were trimmed with strips of bright yellow, which the froggy fetishist liked because it took what he thought would've been a horribly serious edge off the gleaming black
Owen sighed happily to himself, feeling his raingear against his otherwise naked body. He never felt more masculine than when dressed head to toe in his slick waterproof suit and boots. He was glad it was getting warm enough to get away with wearing nothing underneath, casually adjusting the bulge in his pants and loving the fact that for once he didn't need an eye out all the time for more innocent walkers. Deep down he'd have probably enjoyed being seen like this, but caution overruled arousal at least some of the time. He was tempted to jerk off there and then, but forced himself to remove his hands from his crotch - better to fully savour the adventure rather than finish it so soon
It wouldn't have surprised him if he had met someone else walking down the bank, since he was sure *someone* had to have had the idea before, but he was taken aback nonetheless when he *did* meet that someone thanks to his wardrobe. The frog found himself stood maybe twenty feet from a bespectacled giraffe sat at a fishing-pole. The frog wasn't sure if he was fishing seriously or if it was just an excuse to get out into the quiet solitude of the forest and the river, but in any case it was academic to him. He was focused, and trying not to show that he was focused, on the giraffe's head-to-toe yellow rainsuit and striking thigh-length green waders. That he was a giraffe was icing on the cake, since the frog always had a thing for men who were taller than him and those six inches of neck definitely made sure of that. He had to force himself to keep walking past the guy at a casual pace, a polite nod and a mutual "morning" being as much communication as he felt he could risk
Once he was sure he was well out of range of the giraffe though, he was a different animal altogether. Panting heavily, the frog unbuttoned his trousers and pulled his dick free, wanking furiously as he thought about the guy he'd just seen. He looked like he had to be in his fifties, the frog guessed, and older guys were always a weakness of his even without being wrapped head to toe in that slick raingear. He moaned desperately as he came, leaning back against a tree for support, and remained there for a long moment before finally gathering his wits and putting his exposed cock away. He hoped desperately that the giraffe hadn't realised he was sporting a serious erection, reassuring himself that few men ever really noticed that sort of thing given that unspoken heterosexual male code of not looking at another man's crotch. He sighed again and carried on his walk, wondering if the giraffe would be there still when he was walking back
* * *
The frog came back the next morning, and sure enough the giraffe was there again. For another week he carried on like this, idly nodding to the giraffe before carrying on to find somewhere more private to masturbate as he imagined this acquaintance of his doing much more with him by the riverbank than just fishing. It was a morning treat for him, he liked to think. Sure, he had to slog into work later in the day, but for now he could enjoy the full beauty of nature with the promise of this attractive fellow he could think of as being dressed up just for him. This was at least until he stopped appearing on the riverbank
Owen was crestfallen on the morning that the giraffe wasn't around, and by the second morning was already beginning to entertain worried thoughts. Mostly he convinced himself that he'd given away his perverse tastes to the giraffe and had scared him off like that. The giraffe had never seemed offended or bothered by his presence, he'd remained friendly and indeed had become gradually more so with each passing nod and "morning", but it didn't assuage the frog's nerves at all
"Morning," the frog said, then paused before hesitantly adding, "I thought you'd found a better place to fish." He was doing his best to hide his excitement that the giraffe's absence had only been a few days, and was already again convinced he'd said the wrong thing even without a response. His fears were misplaced though, the fisherman only chuckling and shaking his head. "No, I've just been laid out with a cold. I'm afraid it happens when you're an old fella like me, not as tough as I once was." He offered a hand for Owen to shake. "I'm Donald by the way, or Don if you like, figure we should at least know each others' names"
"I'm Owen," the frog replied, hoping he wasn't blushing too visibly
"Nice to meet you. Hope you weren't hoping for any tips on fishing, to be honest I never catch anything anyway," the giraffe continued. "I just like the peace and quiet out here"
"Oh! Me too... I mean the peace and quiet, I'm not fishing," Owen blurted, getting more laughter from his friend
"Well you wouldn't do very well fishing without a fishing rod," Donald replied, patting his tackle box. "Care to sit down?"
And so Owen did. Which would be the first of many times
* * *
"My job's not really exciting," the frog said as they sat talking idly. "Warehouse stuff, lots of packing and unpacking boxes and moving them around. It pays for me to live, so I don't mind. I'd like to go to university when I have more money saved up, get something better"
"Nothing wrong with warehousing," Donald replied, "my father worked in a warehouse all his life. Don't worry, I'm just saying," he added as he noticed the frog's expression, Owen suddenly worried he'd offended him
"What about you? What do you do?" the frog asked. The giraffe shook his head
"Nothing, now. I used to work in an insurance office, and I feel about the same about that as you do about yours. I retired at 60 though, wanted to look after my wife really, she was getting sick and, well..." he trailed off
"Oh man, I'm sorry to hear that," Owen replied, doing his best to reassuringly pat the giraffe on the arm. In any other circumstance his mind would have been whirring at the prospect of actually touching the slickly-dressed male in any capacity, but he was genuinely saddened by what Don was telling him
"Oh it's okay," the giraffe replied, giving him a smile. "We spent forty years together, that's a hell of a long time. Used to do everything together really, we used to travel. Can't say I've really felt like it since Ellie's been gone, kind of why I like being out here, gives me time with my thoughts, gets me out of the house." He smiled again, more sadly, then turned and grabbed a flask of coffee. "Here," he said as he poured some, "let nobody say I don't like to share with friends"
Owen thanked him and took the cup, understanding Don's wish to change the subject. He nearly dropped the plastic mug though as the giraffe took out a pipe, loading it with tobacco and lighting it up. "Oh, sorry, you don't mind if I smoke do you?" the giraffe asked. The frog shook his head
"Not at all, I think it's a respectable habit." The frog thought it was a lot more than that
"Oh, you smoke a pipe yourself?" the giraffe replied. The frog shook his head again
"No, but uh, I might take it up some time." He sipped the coffee, trying not to observe too closely. Silently he cursed himself for being drawn back to his erotic tastes when they were discussing something so serious only moments before, but then, as he told himself, it wasn't him who'd taken the pipe out. Part of him really wished he could believe Don was trying to seduce him right about now
* * *
The early morning conversations carried on like this. Always a little bit of a loner himself, Owen was finding a great friend in Donald, and appreciated having someone older than him with whom he could talk about life. For his part the giraffe was enjoying having the frog to talk to himself. Their shared love of the early morning was a good catalyst for him to open up more, and he found the younger frog easier to talk to the way Ellie had been, moreso than his friends his own age who were from a more stoic generation
Owen couldn't open up fully, no matter how much he wanted to, feeling obliged to dance around some topics such as what he himself was looking for in a relationship. He wasn't even sure how Don would feel if he knew the frog was gay, let alone if he admitted to wondering if the giraffe was butt naked under his rainsuit, so instead he just mumbled that he wasn't really sure what he wanted yet and cautiously directed the topic elsewhere. For a while he even stopped jacking off after he'd been with Don, feeling strange, guilty even, about masturbating over someone he considered that way regardless of what they were dressed in. This only lasted a week or so before the frog had to give in and start again after Don had spent a while waxing lyrical on why he enjoyed pipesmoking much more than he'd ever liked cigarettes. As soon as he was out of sight the frog was busy, cumming furiously in his own trousers as he imagined the giraffe with pipe clenched between his teeth, bending him over the tackle box and buggering him into next week
After weeks of morning meetings, Owen was stopped in his tracks. Don was in place as ever, but the slick yellow outfit was gone. The giraffe had changed to more straightforward weatherbeaten jeans, shirt and green wellington boots with the tops turned over. It was understandable of course, they were getting further into summer now and full-on waterproofs weren't really necessary, but that didn't stop the frog being saddened even if The boots were still eye-candy. He mentally slapped himself, reminding himself not to act creepily disappointed that his friend wasn't dressed up for him any more
"Change of season?" the frog asked as casually as possible as he joined the giraffe in his usual space. Don looked baffled for a minute, not comprehending what the frog meant. Owen blushed and carried on. "Sorry, joke about fashion. You know how they'll have like a 'season', and there'll be a 'look' for that season and then the next season starts and the look suddenly changes... sorry, I'm babbling"
"Oh, I see," the giraffe said, sounding amused, if also still slightly bemused, now. "I guess so, yeah. There's not really any rain in the air so I figured I'd leave the slicker at home. Guess you're still 'last season' then?"
Owen blushed, hoping to god he hadn't created an awkward situation. "What can I say? It's a timeless classic." He looked away, biting his lip ruefully before changing the topic
* * *
Several days had passed. Donald was at home, sat in his living room with a glass of whisky, unable to sleep. The giraffe had been thinking about his new amphibian friend, sighing deeply to himself as he did so. He knew full well the frog was attracted to him, in fact he'd quickly realised that Owen had quite severe fetishes that he himself was, quite by chance, a perfect fit for. The frog's recent disappointment at his change of outfit only confirmed it
At the same time though, he could tell Owen saw him as a friend as well as someone to fantasise about. He valued his company and conversation, any discomfort he'd had in wondering what the frog was thinking about him had settled into more of a curiosity than anything. And he was lonely, and had been since his lover had passed away, and now here was this new friend who clearly wanted to know him as a person *and* get into his waterproof pants. It was all alien to the giraffe, something he'd never considered before, but he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to turn it down either
He finished his whisky. Feeling experimental, he shed his dressing gown and pyjamas and went to the hall cupboard, taking out the slick yellow waterproofs and waders. Despite the cold room he felt hot with nerves as he first pulled on the trousers, then the jacket, and then finally sank his feet into the tall green shafts of the waders. Wearing this stuff over his naked body felt stranger than anything he'd ever tried, walking uncertainly back into the living room and settling down in his favourite armchair. He sighed, hesitating for a long while before letting himself plant a hand on his crotch, feeling his sex through the slick material covering them. He unbuttoned his pants and pulled his cock free, feeling the warm soft flesh as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes
The giraffe stroked his cock, trying to work himself up to a full-blown erection. He felt foolish doing this, masturbation wasn't something he indulged in, but right now he felt he needed to. He imagined what it would be like to kiss Owen, not thinking about the instinctive discomfort about kissing another man, but only about how sensual it would be, what his lips would feel like and how the frog would return the affection tenfold. That did it for him, his cock growing stiff in his hands as he stretched himself out a little more and began to stroke it in earnest. In his mind he imagined what else the frog might gladly do for him, what it might feel like having his mouth wrapped around his cock. With another gasp of pleasure he came, and came hard at that, opening his eyes to look down at the mess he'd made of his rainjacket. "Good Lord," he muttered to himself, cautiously wiping some of it up with a finger. He couldn't deny he felt better though, and he was becoming much clearer in his own mind what he wanted to do. He cleaned himself up, undressed and went to bed. He knew tomorrow was going to be a strange day
* * *
Owen got a shock the next morning, wandering down to his and Don's usual meeting place to find his friend back in the yellow suit and waders that had caught his eye to begin with. "Oh hi there Owen," the giraffe said with a cheerful wave as if nothing unusual was going on. Which Owen supposed there wasn't in the giraffe's mind. The frog joined him, taking his usual place on the tackle box. "Worried about rain?" he asked, hoping he sounded nonchalant rather than extremely self-conscious
"Not exactly, just... a gift for a friend," Don replied, sounding more nervous than usual himself
"I'm not sure what you mean," the frog said, almost stammering
"Owen, I'm really not sure how to come out with this, it's not really something I'm used to..." he rubbed the back of his neck, looking away awkwardly for a moment, "Owen, I know what you're into"
The frog went deathly pale
"No it's alright," Don said quickly, not wanting to terrify his friend, "really it's alright. You've been a good friend to me so far Owen, it's good having a fella I can talk to, and really I kind of figured you out a long time ago"
"And- and you don't mind?"
Donald shook his head. "No, I don't mind Owen. And I kind of wanted to... well... let me show you..." He took a deep breath, scarcely able to believe what he was about to do himself, and unbuttoned his waterproof trousers. "Here," he chuckled despite himself, "this is officially the most publicly indecent thing I've ever done"
The frog for his part couldn't help staring, mouth hanging open. "Wow, I mean you're actually naked under there?"
"I am this time, yeah," Donald replied with a sheepish grin, "and I know you are too"
The frog blushed before looking his friend in the eye. "Um... can I..."
Don nodded, putting a reassuring arm around the frog's shoulders. "You can do anything you like, friend, I promise"
Owen didn't know what to say. Part of him wanted to kiss Don then and there, but he didn't want to risk making his friend panic. Instead he rose from the tackle box and got on his knees in front of the giraffe. Cautiously he stroked one hand over the green expanse of rubber covering hs friend's knee and thigh before wrapping the fingers of the other hand around the slowly rising cock
"Promise you'll be patient with me won't you?" Don asked, "this is the first time I've ever been with another man"
"I promise," Owen replied, bringing his mouth and nose to his friend's sex. The scent of him was wonderful, so warm and masculine, and he cautiously pressed the organ to his lips to kiss it. Above him Donald gasped very slightly in clear enjoyment
"Can I do anything for you?" the giraffe asked, tentatively resting a hand on Owen's head. The frog looked up hesitantly and nodded
"It's okay if it's too weird or, uh... I guess weirder than this is," he babbled, "but... would you smoke your pipe for me?"
"You want me to?"
The frog nodded, and the giraffe nodded too, taking out his smoking kit with a simple "okay"
From his kneeling position, Owen felt more keenly than ever how much taller than him the giraffe was, which only excited him more. His hand nervously played over the giraffe's cock as he watched the pipe being filled, lit and finally smoked, before he gladly lowered his head to take Don's member in his mouth. If there had been angels playing trumpets to let him know he was in Heaven, he wouldn't have been surprised. He sucked hungrily, working his tongue around the thick, warm giraffe meat as he inhaled the potent smoke drifting down from above mixing with his friend-turned-lover's scent
Don, for his part, was in his own heaven. The frog's mouth was incredible, moreso than he'd fantasised it might be, and combining it with the pleasures of smoking his pipe only made it even better. But more than any of that he was truly, deeply excited to find he could return his friend's love, to be able to get aroused by him and make love to him dressed up so crazily. It had been a long time since he'd had this kind of closeness to someone. "Oh lord, keep going," he moaned between puffs of smoke as his free hand caressed and guided the frog's head, "I think I'm going to want to spend more mornings like this with you Owen"
The younger male whimpered excitedly at the elder's words, having to free his own cock from his suit before he came in his trousers again. Instinct took over and in a sudden feral moment he pressed his cock up against the giraffe's right leg, beginning to hump against his friend's wader as he was sucking him passionately. The giraffe couldn't help laughing at the absurdity of it, but it didn't faze the frog in the slightest. He understood immediately that his friend was laughing with him rather than at him, fucking the rubber even more furiously. It was muddy, but he didn't care. It was a wader, and it was Don's wader and it was Don's mud and he could feel it against his cock and he wanted to shoot his load all over it, add it to the dirt that showed off how masculine and sexy the boots were. And the giraffe tasted and smelled so good, he could already taste precum on his tongue as he bobbed frantically on the prick in his mouth, eager to give his friend the most pleasure he possibly could
Don was thrusting upwards now, lustfully offering words of encouragement in between mouthfuls of smoke. "I'm so close Owen," he gasped, deliberately exhaling smoke over the frog who he was sure would like it, "I'm going to cum... I want you to cum on my boot..."
The frog was happy to oblige. He came first, cock erupting sandwiched between his own slick black rainjacket and the dirty green rubber. He was rewarded in turn as the giraffe finally cried out in pleasure, pumping his own seed into the frog's mouth to be swallowed eagerly. Now Owen really was in heaven, almost floating from the pleasure of making his friend cum. Instinctively he pulled his head back to let a few jets of Don's seed splash over his face and his raincoat, imagining to himself how it must look against the shiny black rubber
"Oh lord... Owen, you're talented!" Don finally said, still laughing a little as the frog came down from his own orgasmic high
The frog looked up with a shy smile. "Thanks, you're pretty tasty"
The giraffe smiled down before inviting his friend to stand up as he did too, the frog's eyes barely coming up to the nape of his neck. The giraffe gently guided the frog's gaze upwards as his long neck flexed down, kissing him tenderly. "Thank you Owen," he said as they parted, gently moving his hand down to experimentally caress the frog's cock. It didn't seem strange at all now. It was Owen, and it didn't bother him at all that he was male because he loved him, he realised, and he knew the frog loved him back
The frog replied by wrapping an arm around his long-necked friend and drawing him into another kiss. "Any time," he said happily. "Hopefully we can have a lot more mornings like this"
"Mmm, you can come back to mine right now if you liked," the giraffe replied with a sly grin, "at the very least I'll cook you some breakfast"
"Sounds good, I'm sure work won't mind if I have a cold today," the frog chuckled. Then the two of them packed up Donald's fishing tackle and wandered off down the bank, arms around shoulders as they enjoyed the mud squelching under their boots, light rain beginning to fall