(I wrote this as a comment on August's picture of himself naked in a tree.)

I did that once while living in a tiny rented house in Wichita Falls, Texas. I'd had a couple of beers, so it was on my breath, and I would've exaggerated that number to use that as my excuse if discovered.

I was hoping to get caught.

The feel of rough bark excited me as I pressed the underside of my erect cock to the tree and made circular motions. I climbed to a point about twice my body height and found additional stimulation as I lowered my asshole onto a sturdy branch. Circular and back-and-forth movements were necessary here, as well.

It was about midnight, so cars passed only occasionally along Avenue O. Their occupants would've had no reason to look up toward my perch, but the thought they might added to my arousal. The nearest street light was a half-block away, and provided little, if any, illumination of my nakedness.

My tool was at its hardest as I wrapped my hand around it and began to stroke. I wanted to enjoy this experience for as long as possible, but the sounds of cars passing nearby, the warm, light breeze caressing my naked body, the body-weight pressure of the branch on my anus and the sight of my hand pumping my cock conspired against that idea.

It wasn't long before my body tensed and I fired several shots of cum onto the tree.

I rested a moment, then began climbing down. My writer's brain went to work, fantasizing that ants found my thick, creamy deposit and began carrying scoops into the tree to their queen. Insemination would be impossible in the real world, of course, but imaginations aren't constrained by science. A fantasy that never made it to printed pages would've painted the resulting hybrid breed as industrious, perpetually horny and rapidly proliferating.