Campground Discoveries Pt. 06

(Last chapter takes up where Part 5 ends)

I spent the next couple of hours -- all through dinner with the family and sitting around the fire -- in a bit of a haze. I was there but not there, too preoccupied with my thoughts to be sociable. iIt was chilly after the rain, so when my parents decided to turn in early I did the same.

I'd been semi-hard ever since leaving the shower, eagerly anticipating the time when I could strip off my clothes and jack off. I was just about to start when I thought of the towel Danny and I had come on when we'd jacked off together two nights earlier.

I pulled it out of the corner of the tent where I'd thrown it. I brought it to my nose and inhaled, and thought I could still detect the slightly bleachy smell of our mingled semen. My dick twitched in anticipation.

I slid into my sleeping bag, turned off the lantern and shucked off my pants. Taking my cock in hand, I began jerking, going as slowly as my aching balls would permit.

All the things I'd seen and done in the last couple of days came back to mind, one after another, then all blending together: spying on Rick and his friend, seeing the naked guy in the shower, jacking off with Danny, spying on Rick and his friend again, trading blow jobs with Danny, the guy in the shower sucking me off, seeing Rick again today, then sucking the shower guy in return.

Hardly two minutes passed before I felt that familiar tingling in my cock and my sack started to tighten. I opened my mouth, gave a final tug or two and shot a wad that -- just as I intended -- plopped in the middle of my tongue. I swallowed it as three more shots landed on my stomach. I scooped them up with my fingers and thrust them into my mouth.

When the spasms finally stopped I lay there panting in the dark. I lay awake for a while, thinking about how I had changed in the last few days. From totally straight to .... Well, to something different, whatever it was.

The next morning I woke up early. Hearing someone moving about, I got dressed and scrambled out of the tent. My dad was about to go fishing, and when he asked if I wanted to go I said yes.

We got in the car and headed for his favorite spot, a deep pool among the pines a mile or so further up the valley. When we got there you could see the water dimpling where the trout were rising, and we ended up catching several nice ones.

Mostly, though, we talked. My dad is a good listener, not inclined to lecturing or pontification, and once I got over my early adolescent stupidity I realized he was good at helping work things out by just asking questions and listening to the answers.

I wasn't going to ask him for his thoughts on having sex with guys, of course, though he is hard to shock and we'd talked fairly frankly about sex in the past.

He was curious, though, about how I felt about going to college in the fall: Was I mostly excited, or mostly apprehensive, about being away from home in a new and more freewheeling environment?

Both, I said.

"That sounds about right," he said.

He eventually said something to the effect that college is a time for trying new things, working out who you are. It's almost like you're trying out different personalities to find the best fit, and you should never feel stuck with one or the other.

I don't know to what extent he was thinking about sex -- possibly not at all -- but I thought the lesson applied as much to my present situation as to college: I was trying out a new thing, seeing if it was a good fit. What I did wasn't necessarily what I am.

This made me feel much better.

After a couple of hours we went back to camp and put the fish on ice. We would have a big fish-fry that night, our last in camp.

I had a few hours to kill before heading to Rick's cabin, so I lounged around in camp, reading a bit and playing board games with my siblings. I thought little about what might happen that afternoon.

As 2 o'clock approached, though, Rick was very much on my mind. What, if anything, was going to happen? Did I want something to happen and, if so, what? Would he come on to me, or me to him?

Or was I just building a big fantasy that was founded on nothing? What if it was all in my head, if all he wanted was what he said: to have a soak in the hot tub?

Then there was a practical question: Should I take something to wear in the tub? I hadn't brought a swimming suit on the trip -- there's no place nearby to swim -- but should I take something else, like a pair of nylon shorts? Or would we just get in nude, the way he and his friend had earlier in the week?

Just in case, I threw a pair of nylon shorts in my day pack.

A little after 1 p.m. told my folks I was going for a last long hike but would be back in time for dinner. Once again I left the campground on the north side, then veered west until I picked up the trail to Rick's cabin.

It was a warm, clear day, the air clean and refreshing after yesterday's rain. Having decided I was open to whatever might happen -- or to nothing, if Rick had nothing in mind -- I walked along feeling almost lighthearted.

Just before 2 I knocked on the cabin door. Rick answered it in a pair of cutoffs and a faded T-shirt.

"Hey, glad you could make it," he said, extending a hand to shake. "Come on in. Do you like martinis?"

"Never had one, to tell you the truth," I said.

He got a pitcher out of the fridge and poured two glasses.

"Skoal," he said, clinking his glass against mine."

I took a swallow rather than a sip and immediately started coughing. He laughed.

"These are pretty strong," he said. "Better to sip."

We went into the living room and sat down. There was no fire but the room felt warm anyway.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" I asked.

"Only with your permission," he said with a sly smile.

"Well, I can't go back to camp drunk," I said.

"We'll go easy on the booze then," he said. "How do you feel about smoking dope?"

"I feel fine about that," I said.

He got up and took a small pipe and a metal canister from the mantel.

"We won't need much of this," he said.

Boy, was he right. I hadn't taken more than three puffs when it hit me -- bang, stoned just like that.

"Awesome," I said.

We sat there for a few minutes sipping the martinis -- which I decided I very much liked -- and being high.

"Ready for the tub?" he asked.

"You bet. Just gotta change."

"Sure, in there," he said, pointing to the door of a bathroom that led off from the kitchen.

I was vaguely disappointed. I guess I had hoped he'd suggest we go in nude.

When I returned from the bathroom he had changed, too. We refilled our glasses and took them out on the deck. Rick put his glass down on a shelf next to the tub, stripped off his shirt and -- almost before I could get a good look at him -- got into the tub.

He was tanned and fit, toned if not especially muscular, with fine blonde hair on his arms, legs and chest. Sexy, I thought.

I climbed in after him. He seemed to be watching me, and I felt self-conscious.

He took a drink of his martini, settled back against the side of the tub and closed his eyes.

The water felt great and I said so.

"This is one of my favorite places to be," he answered, without opening his eyes.

"I think I know why," I thought.

A few minutes passed quietly. The longer I sat there, the more I was nagged by a feeling of guilt. He had shown me nothing but friendliness and hospitality, but I had acted like a snake toward him.

"I have to tell you something," I said.

He opened his eyes and looked at me.

I swallowed hard.

"My friend and I spied on you the other day," I said.

"Spied on me? What do you mean?"

He looked more bewildered than angry.

"We were out hiking, and we stopped to rest on that outcrop," I said, pointing. "I always carry binoculars, for birds, mostly, and we were scanning around, and saw you and your friend in the woods.... Well, we saw you."

Rick went pale.

"I'm sorry," I said. "It was a shitty thing to do and I apologize."

He gave me a withering look.

" 'Shitty' hardly covers it," he said.

I put my drink down and got out of the tub. He watched me, but didn't say anything.

"I'll just go," I said. "I'm sorry."

I went inside and was about to change back into my hiking clothes when I heard his voice behind me.

"Come on back," he called from the door. "Let's talk."

Uncertainly, I followed him back to the tub. He waved me in and climbed in himself. He took a long pull on his martini and looked at me.

"What did you see?" he asked.

"We saw the two of you kissing," I said.

"That all?"

I shook my head.

He grimaced, but said nothing for a full minute.

"So you saw the two of us having sex. Did you enjoy the show?"

I blushed but couldn't find words to answer him.

"You liked it, didn't you?"

"Yes," I said after a pause.

"Did you and your friend get turned on by watching us?"

I nodded.

He seemed to be thinking. I could see that something had just occurred to him.

"Did the two of you end up playing with each other?'

"Yes."

"How far did it go?'"

Again I swallowed hard before answering.

"Blow jobs."

"Had you ever done anything like that before?"

"No."

"Where is your friend now?"

"Gone," I said. "His family picked him up to go to a wedding."

"And why did you come here today?" he asked. "Were you hoping you and I would have sex?"

I hesitated a moment before nodding yes.

He was quiet for a long time, looking at me.

"Well, I guess I did a shitty thing, too, inviting you here today," he said. "In the back of my mind, I suppose I was thinking about sex, too. Which is wrong, because of our age difference. Hell, I don't even know if you're really 18."

"I really am," I said.

He turned and looked away over the trees in the direction of the outcrop. My eyes followed his, and I could just make out the edge of the rock peeping over the trees.

He turned back toward me. Our eyes met.

"Do you really want to do this?" he said.

I swallowed hard.

"Yes."

He was sitting back against the tub wall, only his shoulders and head above the water. He moved, and next thing I knew he had brought his shorts up out of the water and thrown them on the deck.

"Well?"

I drained the last of my drink. I slid down a bit, shucked off my own shorts and threw them over the side.

"Now stand up," he said.

I stood.

My cock had stiffened when I told him about having sex with Danny. As he gazed at me it rose to its full height, and now pointed straight at him.

"Nice shave," he said. "And the cock's not bad, either."

He moved through the water. The next thing I knew he was standing before me and I was gazing at his cock.

It was big, not quite as thick as the shower guy's but longer and wider at the head and curving slightly upward. It was very hard. His balls were big and low-hanging, and the whole package was surrounded by a thick patch of blond hair.

"Well, what do you want to do?" he asked.

"Can I suck your cock?"

"Be my guest," he said.

He moved back against the side of the tub and lifted himself onto the edge, facing me. His cock was pointing nearly straight up.

I stepped toward him, lowering myself into the water as I moved. I got between his legs and reached for his cock.

When my fingers closed around the shaft I felt him twitch a little, and a bead of precum formed on the slit. I leaned down and licked it off. I realized I was beginning to love the taste.

I opened my mouth and took in about half his length. I realized I was beginning to like this part, too.

He leaned back slightly as if to say, Go ahead, get to work.

So that's what I did. I was still inexperienced and inexpert, but he coached me through it -- urging me to breathe through my nose and relax my throat, telling me how to use my lips and tongue. I soon had nearly his entire length in me.

"You've learned a lot in three days," he said.

Again I smiled inwardly.

"Faster now," he said. "Tug on my balls, too."

I did as he said.

His breathing got deeper, more ragged.

"I'm going to cum," he said.

I made a sound like "Go ahead" as best I could with my mouth full.

He wound his fingers into my hair, like the guy in the shower had, and I felt them tighten as his cock swelled in my mouth and the first blast of cum shot into my throat.

Before I could swallow he shot again, and then again so quickly my mouth filled and spilled over. Cum oozed out of the corners of my mouth and down his shaft. I swallowed again, and still it kept coming. It was as if he hadn't come in weeks, although I knew it could be two days at most.

When he was finally spent, he pulled me off his cock and stood me up.

"You took that like a champ," he said. "Now you."

He put a hand on my chest.

"Sit up on the edge," he said, but before I could move he changed his mind.

"Let's move to the couch instead," he said, indicating the spot where I'd seen him making out with his friend a couple of days before.

I got out of the tub and walked naked toward the couch, my rock-hard dick pointing the way. Rick followed close behind. Somehow I sensed that he was staring at my ass the whole time.

I sat on the couch, my rigid cock pointing at the sky. A bead of precum had pearled in the slit, and I could see Rick eying it hungrily.

He pulled a cushion off the couch and placed it on the deck in front of me, then hooked his hands behind my knees and pulled me toward him so that my ass was lined up on the edge of the couch. Nudging my legs apart and kneeling between them, he gave me a long look.

I expected him to take me in his mouth, but he surprised me by taking hold of my knees once again, lifting my legs and pushing them back so my ass was exposed to him.

I was suddenly apprehensive about what he was going to do, but before I could react he lowered his face between my legs and licked my asshole.

I thought I would jump out of my skin. The feeling was unbelievably intense, like a bolt of electricity shooting through my body. I instinctively clenched the muscles around my anus.

"It's ok," Rick said, looking up at me. "Just relax, I promise you'll enjoy this."

I looked back at him, surprised and shocked that things had taken this turn. But when he smiled back at me, I decided to go along, and did my best to relax.

The next five minutes were some of the most intense of my sexual life. Rick ate me out more thoroughly than I'd ever eaten out one of my girlfriends, sliding his tongue in and out of my hole, fucking me with it, occasionally making wet, slurping noises. Soon I was moaning and grunting, writhing with pleasure, totally under his spell.

At some point I felt him pull away, and I felt a finger sliding into me. It went in easily, I was so wet by this time. At the same moment he started licking my balls, then the lower shaft of my cock, and finally he swallowed me to the root.

He held his head still briefly, but started working the finger, fucking me with it. Soon I felt a second finger sliding in, some more fucking, and then a third. I was on the point of coming when he took my mouth from me and asked, "Would you like me to fuck you?"

It hadn't occurred to me that things might go this far, but now there seemed little point in turning back.

"Yes," I said.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "This is a big step."

I thought for a few seconds. A big step, maybe, but one I wanted to take. I wanted his cock in my ass.

"Fuck me," I said.

He pulled his fingers out of my hole. I suddenly felt empty, and wanted to be filled again.

He didn't make me wait. I felt the tip of his cock touching my hole, and the next thing I know he was sliding in.

I had expected it to hurt, but I was so wet and loose from the tongue-fucking I felt surprisingly little pain.

"Oh my God," I said as he slid into me. "Oh my fucking God."

He paused a moment to let me adjust fully to him. My ass felt full, but in a good way.

"You ok?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"I'll start slow, but then I'll pick it up," he said. "Stop me if it hurts."

He began moving: in a bit, out a bit, in again, out again, a little deeper each time. After a few strokes he moved my hips a little to improve the angle and started moving faster.

It started to feel good. Really good.

"Jesus," I said. "This is unbelievable."

"Wait till I really get going. I'm going to flip you first, though."

He pulled out and stood up.

"Get up on your hands and knees," he said.

I turned on the couch and got on all fours. He knelt behind me, pushed my cheeks apart and slid his cock straight in.

I groaned, and I think my eyes rolled up in my head. My cock gave a jump, and looking between my legs, I saw that precum was streaming from the tip.

Rick started fucking me again, harder this time. I heard slapping sounds, and felt his balls knocking against me. I felt his hand on my neck and next thing I knew my face was pressed into the cushions.

It was like I had no will, nothing to do but take the pounding he was given me. He wasn't being rough, exactly, but he left no doubt as to who was in control.

It crossed my mind that he was sending me a message, maybe even punishing me for spying on him. If that was the case, I deserved it.

He started making sounds like he was about to come. I realized I was close to coming myself; all the rubbing inside had pushed me to the edge of orgasm. I reached back with one hand, took hold of my raging cock and started stroking.

Three strokes was all it took. I exploded. A great gob of cum shot out of my cock and all over my hand. My orgasm seemed to trigger Rick's; I heard a strangled cry, felt his cock driving even deeper into me, and then felt liquid fire in my insides.

I don't know how many more times Rick thrust into me or many more shots of cum erupted from my own dick. Everything was a blur, but through it all was pleasure of an unbelievable intensity.

Rick finally collapsed on top of me. My arms gave out and I collapsed under him, his cock still buried in my ass.

Minutes passed without either of us speaking. The only sounds were his panting and some whimpering that I realized was coming from me.

At some point Rick moved, and I felt his cock slipping out of me. The sudden emptiness was almost painful, and I groaned aloud as it withdrew.

I felt him shifting on the couch behind me. He sat up, and after a while I did, too.

"Good Lord," I said. "That was intense."

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, not exactly," I said. "It was uncomfortable at first, but after I got used to it, it was....well, pretty good actually."

"You're going to be sore the rest of the day, though," he said.

I shrugged.

Then, turning to him, I asked, "Were you getting back at me for spying on you?"

"Not consciously," he said. "But subconsciously, maybe so."

"Well, I guess I deserved it," I said. "And to tell the truth, I didn't dislike it."

A silence fell. Rick got up, went inside and came back out with two more martinis. He handed me one, put the other down on a table and went back inside. As he walked away I again admired his body.

I was developing an appreciation for the male anatomy.

When he came back out again, he was holding the pipe.

"Smoke some more?" he asked.

"Just a little."

We took a couple of hits each, then he put the pipe aside.

"So, what do you think?"

"About what?"

"Sex with men."

"I'm getting to like it," I said. "Not sure it's a good thing, though."

"That's often how it works with a lot of otherwise straight guys who give it a try," he said.

"How did you start?"

"Messed around with my college roommate one night when we were both stoned and horny," he said. "We were both kind of embarrassed about it the next day, but a couple of days later we did it again, and it became a regular thing."