Campground Discoveries Pt. 04

(Takes up where third part ends.)

I woke up the next day, however, with a feeling of disappointment, because I realized that this was the day -- Wednesday -- when Danny's parents were to pick him up for the wedding. They were coming around lunchtime, so we wouldn't have more time to continue our explorations, much as we both wanted to.

Just before they arrived we got a chance to talk, and I was relieved to hear he had no morning-after regrets about what we'd been doing. I could tell he was as disappointed about leaving as I was to see him go, which made me feel like we were in the same place mentally.

Once he was gone I decided to go hiking. Again I headed north from the campground, but this time I kept going in that direction instead of veering westward to the ridge where we'd spied on the two gay guys.

The trail was steeper in this direction, and by the time I reached the small peak I'd scouted on previous trips I was hot and sweaty. I sat down to catch my breath and enjoy the view, which from that spot is pretty grand, with rocky peaks on three sides and the thick forest stretching out before you to the distant foothills.

One thing about being in the mountains is that it helps put things in perspective. You realize how small and comparatively unimportant you are, and that most of your problems are, in the great scheme of things, not so pressing as you thought. My sexual interest in other guys might have sneaked up on me, but it was now a fact and I realized I would have to get used to it.

After an hour or so on top I gathered my stuff and made my way slowly back to the campground. It had grown hotter, and by the time I got back to our campsite I was sweaty again, and dirty from a tumble I'd taken on a tricky part of the trail.

The rest of the family was gone -- probably hiking somewhere themselves -- so I got my stuff out of my tent and headed for the showers. This being the middle of the week, the campground was only half full, so I figured I would have some privacy.

When I got to the shower building -- empty, thankfully -- I stripped, put my dirty stuff in one cubbyhole, my clean clothes in another, and hung my towel on a peg. I stepped into the shower room and took a corner spot, where I turned the water on hot and stood there for a while, letting it stream over me.

After a minute I started shampooing my hair, and as I rinsed off I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. Someone else had come in and was using the shower in the opposite corner.

When I was done rinsing I stole a glance at him. He was facing in my direction, his head thrown back while he washed his own hair.

I realized with a start it was the same guy I'd seen here two days ago, when he came out of the shower naked. At the time I'd noticed his thick cock and shaved pubes, and the image had been in my mind when I'd jacked off with Danny not long afterward.

Soapy water was streaming down his body and dripping off his cock, and I felt the same sort of stirring I'd had when I was watching Danny the day before.

I looked away. I didn't want him to catch me looking at him again.

As I washed the rest of my body, I realized with dismay that I was about half-hard and getting harder.

I turned toward the wall, hoping he would just go away. I might be aroused by the sight of his cock, but my life was complicated enough already.

A few moments later I heard him moving toward the door, though he had left the water running. He came back, and I heard sounds I couldn't quite place.

I turned slightly in his direction and stole a glance out of the corner of my eye. He had spread shaving cream around his pubes and was giving them a shave.

It was impossible not to watch.

He was looking down at his crotch, half-hard cock in his left hand, watching as he worked. First he drew the razor over the skin above and to the sides of the shaft, then shifted his grip slightly so he could work around the root of the cock itself.

The sight of him moving his thick cock first to one side, then to the other, was mesmerizing. It was hard to say whether his main purpose was to give himself a shave, or to play with this dick. If it was the latter, was he doing it for my benefit?

Maybe it was a little of both. There was no doubt that he was mostly hard, and I knew without looking that I was fully erect.

When he was done with the first part of his shave he looked up and saw me.

Busted again.

I turned hastily away.

"It's okay," he said calmly. "I don't mind if you watch."

I turned back and looked at him again. He was smiling.

"Never seen a guy shave?"

I shook my head.

"It is kind of erotic, isn't it?" he asked. "I always get hard doing it."

He acted as if watching another guy shave his cock and balls was the most natural thing in the world.

I started to say something but no words came.

He got the can of shaving cream from the shelf next to the shower head and sprayed a big gob in his hand. Taking his stiff cock in the other hand, he spread the foam all over his balls. He shifted his grip once again, pulling his ball sack tight, and picked up the razor again.

Slowly and methodically, he worked the razor around the front and sides of the sack. When he was done with that he pulled it still tighter, bent over slightly and gently swiped the underside.

Not once that I could see did he nick himself.

When he was done he put the shaving things on the shelf and rinsed himself off. His newly shaved pubes looked smooth and, well, inviting.

He looked at me again. I was still rock hard.

"Would you like to feel it?" he asked quietly.

My mouth opened but again no words came out. I tried to swallow but couldn't.

He took three steps and stood in front of me, fully erect.

I was frozen in place, so he took my hand and placed it on his cock. It was so thick my hand barely fit around it.

"Feels good, huh?"

He guided my hand around, up and down the shaft once, then downward so that I felt his ball sack. I loved the smoothness and the slightly slippery feel after the shave.

I watched as he guided my hand back to the shaft and closed my fingers around it. Again I marveled at the thickness of it, so much thicker than my own.

Without thinking I started stroking it, and next thing I knew my cock was in his hand and he was stroking me. Then he leaned closer to me and we were kissing.

He moved again, sinking to his knees. As he did his cock slipped out of my hand and mine slipped into his mouth.

He took me in without hesitation, his lips sliding down the shaft until his nose touched my pubic bone. I felt his tongue working the underside of the shaft, and one hand was caressing my balls. With the other hand he tapped the inside of one leg, and I instinctively knew to move my legs slightly apart. He slipped a hand between them and next thing I knew a finger had entered my anus.

That was all it took. I exploded into his mouth, and my whole body shuddered as I emptied my swollen balls into his mouth.

He calmly swallowed several times, and when I was done he slipped the finger out and stood up.

His hand found mine again and wrapped it around his cock. I started stroking, and in less than a minute he growled and cum began pouring out of him. It covered my hand and dripped onto my cock, still mostly hard.

When he was done he kissed me once more, gently, and went back to his shower to rinse.

I stood there, still breathing hard, his cum dripping from my hand. I rinsed it off and turned off the water.

I stepped out of the shower room and began toweling off. Seconds later he did the same.

As we dressed, I looked at him again and noticed he was wearing a wedding ring. In one sense no surprise: I had seen him with his family the day before. But in another sense, very surprising: Do married men have sex with other men?

He was ready before I was. He left without looking back.