Copyright © 2006

By Lee Mariner

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This is a gay fantasy depicting male homosexual acts, and it is intended for ADULT READERS ONLY.  If you are not of legal age in your locality or should you not approve of this type of material, please leave.

The author retains the copyright © and all Rights are Reserved.  This story is not to be copied or reproduced in any way, or posted on any web site without the author's written permission.  It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the provisions of their submission guidelines.

This story has been proofed and edited by Scottie MacGregor. 

All of my work can be found in the Nifty Archives listings of Prolific Authors under the name of Lee Mariner.

The author can be contacted at:


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This is a story about a family campground on the eastern shore of Virginia.  It is a large campground located on the Chesapeake Bay with an excess of five hundred campsites for camper trailers, mobile homes, and tent camping.  The grounds are carpeted in pine needles from the many pine trees, more or less strategically left in place when it was laid out.  There is an abundance of rhododendron, azalea, acuba and other varieties of bushes that contribute to the privacy of the campers.  

Most campgrounds have facilities, such as: tennis courts, basketball courts, softball fields, and  swimming pools that are necessary to relieve, or at least, help relieve the boredom that can set in rather quickly for adolescent boys and girls. A large community bathhouse with access to the swimming pool provides showers for swimmers as well as the necessary sanitary facilities that most of the pop-top and tent campers will need.   Adjacent to the inevitable campground store  was a large pavilion, where movies were shown on Wednesday nights and teen-dances were held on Friday and Saturday nights.  The dances were discreetly monitored by campground security, enabling parents to have some free time for themselves. Unmarried singles, and younger married couples that did not have children attended.  Their presence assisted in controlling the boisterous level of most of the teenagers.

In addition to the facilities of the main bathhouse there were several portable relief stations, scattered throughout the camp sites for those that did not have self contained sanitary waste tanks.  As the campground grew, and there were more tent campers and pop-top campers without shower or sanitary facilities,  a smaller bathhouse was built at the back of the campground, where most of those campers were located. 

I started camping in a tent; with all of the paraphernalia that made loading and unloading the back of my SUV a pain in the ass.  Eventually I graduated up the chain of campers, to a thirty-two foot Concordia travel trailer.  I was not totally inexperienced in towing another vehicle, but something as large as the Concordia was more than I had previously attempted.  Fortunately, while in the process of buying the unit, the dealer and I were talking; and when I mentioned where I would be using the unit, he offered to tow it there and set it up for a fee of fifty-dollars.  I didn't hesitate in taking him up on the offer.  It may have been because he thought that I might not be able to handle a thirty-two foot unit; but I liked thinking his sudden largess was prompted because of the several units that I had already bought from him.

* * * * * * * * * *

I had told the campground owners that I was buying another camper, so they were not surprised when we drove up with me in the lead.  Over the years of camping, I had gotten to know the owners, John and Helen Webber, and as I got out of my truck, John approached me saying, "Damn, Wayne, you went whole hog with this one."

"Yeah, John, it is a little bigger than the Wilderness or the Terry; but, this rascal has everything from soups to nuts, including a queen-size bed, built in sound system, color television, and full sized bath.  I don't think I'll be needing anything else for quite some time."

"I don't know, Wayne," he said slowly, giving the unit the once over as he walked alongside, peeping into the windows as he spoke. "You seem to get bit by the bug about every four years, but that is normal for a camper."

"Sleeping on a real mattress will help with the arthritis." I whimpered, faking an aching back."

"I can relate to that," he said, laughing loudly at my antics. "I had your space cleaned up after you towed the Terry away, and all new hoses put on the hookups for the water and sewage.  Helen is tied up with taxes right now, so if it's okay with you, Wayne, I'll come along?" He asked, his eyes twinkling  brightly. " I want to check this bad boy out after it's set up."

"I was hoping you would."

* * * * * * * * * *

John is the same age as me, thirty-eight, good-looking, nicely built, and and hung like a fucking bull.  We had run into each other several times in the bathhouse; and, we had given each other sly, hopefully unnoticed side eye glances, and had made feeble attempts at covertly trying to check each other out when using the urinals.   John would lean back slightly as if he was a little unstable on his feet exposing a humongous cock.  Standing at a urinal in public made me nervous, and instead of checking him out, I would nod, saying something that made no sense, and leave.

It was later, when I opened the door on a portable toilet unit close to my campsite, that any suspicions that I had were dispelled.   John was sitting on the toilet with his legs splayed wide jerking off, and he didn't miss a beat as I stood flabbergasted, and holding the door open.  I couldn't take my eyes off of the huge uncut, at least nine-inch cock that he was stroking with both hands.  I don't remember what I was feeling, or even that I was holding my breath, until he jerked me out of my stupor; by saying, "Come on in, there's room enough for two."

"I...I gotta take a leak," I squeaked weakly, the door slamming behind me as I stepped inside, and faced the urinal.  There was a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, and my hands shook as I fumbled for my zipper.

"At first, I did too," he said huskily.

"Unh huh," was all I managed to grunt as I pulled my swelling cock from inside my jeans.

I stood holding my hard cock, trying to piss, which I knew would never happen as long as I had a hard-on.  At the same time, I wanted to turn around and suck John's cock, even though I wasn't sure  what his reaction might be.   He solved the problem when he leaned sideways to look at my cock and whistled.  "Man," he said excitedly.  "I had a hunch you were hung, Wayne, your cock is as big as my nine-inches."

A sudden wave of boldness washed over me as, I turned to face him, slowly stroking my cock and saying, "Eight-inches is close to nine."

"And just as thick," he said in a tone of admiration as he pulled me closer, brushing my hand away from my turgid cock and taking it in his mouth.

I felt my muscles tightening at the sensation of his lips encircling the blood engorged head of my cock. Breathing in deeply, I exhaled explosively,  exclaiming excitedly, my legs quivering as he swallowed my cock, "Oh, Jesus, John, suck it, Baby. Eat every damned inch."

Grabbing the cloth covered cheeks of my ass, he pulled me forward with such force that I had to throw my hands up against the back wall of the toilet.  He was like an animal devouring and sucking on as much of my cock as he could under the cramped circumstances.  I was oblivious to the sounds of campers passing by as he suckled with the intensity of a newborn calf.  The only thing that I was feeling was the fire of an intense ecstasy building in my loins.   I didn't hear him unrolling toilet paper while rabidly sucking my burgeoning cock.  I was enjoying the bolts of fire that were shooting through my loins. The hot burning sensation, deep in my nuts, preceding the volcanic eruption that was rushing to be released through the urethral canal of my swelling cock, into his greedy mouth, filling his gullet to overflowing with hot bitter sweet sperm.  An uncontrolled ethereal feeling swept over me when I felt his passionate moans, my cock reverberating with the intensity of a tuning fork.  The euphonic waves of his moans of passion infused my tightening muscles with the essence of total pleasure as he sucked my hardening cock in that moment of uncontrolled lust.  We both reached the erotic plateau of subliminal bliss as our cocks spewed massive streams of thick, sticky sperm.

My knees were shaking uncontrollably as he sucked, draining the last remnants of the aphrodisiac that he had craved from my wilting cock.  A soft after glow of ecstasy engulfed  both of us in a deep mist of euphoria.  My cock was slowly softening, but he continued sucking and moaning, gently resisting my efforts to withdraw from his tight lips.  When my cock slipped from his lips, he let his hands drop down around my thighs; holding me tightly to him as he breathed deeply with his nose in the thickness of my pubic hair. 

"God, Wayne, I've been wanting you ever since you first started camping here, and it was as fantastic as I thought it would be," he said. 

John leaned back, looking up at me with doe soft eyes, as I straightened up from leaning over him. His still impressive cock lay in his lap wrapped in sperm soaked toilet paper, and  his magnificent chest rose and fell rhythmically.

"It took long enough before we finally got around to it; but, that was mostly my fault.  What with you being married, and my not being that forward, I wasn't exactly sure if you liked sex with men," I said.  I smiled at him as I unrolled a few sheets of paper to wipe the few remaining drops that inevitably drained from the urethra opening in the head of my cock.  "Besides that, I've never had a married man suck my cock."

Leaning forward with a grin on his face, his dark brown eyes sparkling, he took my just as impressive half-hard cock in his hand, sliding the foreskin back with his fingers. In a firm  milking motion, he drained the remaining fluid onto his tongue before swallowing my swelling cock.  Tightening his lips, he slowly stripped and swallowed what nectar remained as his tongue washed the sensitive glans.  "Does it feel any different if some single faggot sucks it?"  He asked, my hardening cock slowly filling with blood from being resurrected by his demonstration of the nonexistent difference between faggot and married cock sucker.

"No difference, but I'd like to taste a married cock to see if the pussy has any effect on its flavor," I answered; as I leaned down and squeezed the toilet paper covered bulge in his crotch.

"No effect at all, Wayne, and I'll give you all you can handle but not now. It'll have to be later," he said, as he stood up to finish cleaning his gorgeous cock.  "I've got to get back to the office before the old lady sends out the scouts.  I told her there were a couple of these toilets that the locks needed to be fixed so they would lock until the honey wagon got here, but I've been horny as hell all morning, and I wanted to jerk off.  When you opened the door, that was an unexpected bonus, and there was no one around to prevent me from finally getting what I've been wanting."

"And now that you've had it?" I said huskily, as I ran my arms around his chest holding him tight, our hard cocks jammed between us.

His eyes bored into mine as he placed his arms around my shoulders. "Jesus," he whispered, licking his lips as he spoke. "You're a horny fucker, aren't you?"

"Only when I'm with an exciting, horny and hot man, John.  You are that, and more."

"How about this Friday?" He asked.  "Helen is going up to Princess Anne to help her mother, and won't be back until at least next Tuesday or Wednesday."

"Your place or mine?" I answered, hoping he would say his place.

"Mine, the bed is bigger."

"I'll be there, but if you want something before Friday....., I'll be here," I said trailing off my thoughts, but hoping.

"Maybe...." He said, a twinkle in his eyes as he cracked the door and looked outside before leaving.  "Don't follow to close."

* * * * * * * * * *

"Christ." I thought, exhaling explosively as I sat down where John had been, my hard cock jutting up from my fly like a steel javelin.   Quickly undoing my jeans and pushing them down around my ankles; I stood at the urinal and jerked off to relieve the pressure of the fire that John had rekindled by sucking the last of my sperm from my cock, and by his promise of an exciting weekend together.

Just as I was zipping my fly shut the door started to open, and I hollered, "Someone is in here.  I'll be out in a minute."

I heard a muffled, "Sorry, I'll wait."

"Damn," I thought, looking at the sperm on the side of the urinal.  "There is no time to try and work up a piss to wash it away."

When I pushed the door open, there was a clean-cut young man in shorts and muscle shirt waiting. He was probably eighteen or nineteen years old, close to being six-foot tall with  light brown hair closely trimmed, well built and tanned a deep chestnut.  His eyes were a golden hazel, and they twinkled when he looked at me.  "I didn't mean to rush you."

"Oh, no, I was almost finished," I said standing and hesitating;  holding the door open as my eyes moved over his lean muscled lanky frame and the very noticeable bulge in his crotch.  "The door lock is broken, but the manager knows about."

"That's okay,  I'm not worried," he said.  His eyes twinkled impishly as he went inside the toilet, moistening his full succulent lips with the tip of his tongue, and looking over his shoulder.  "Besides, I don't have anything to hide."

"Damn," I thought to myself, as the door slammed shut.  "Why haven't I seen him around the campground?"

Just as I started to move away, I heard, "Mister, are you still out there?"

"I was just leaving.  Why, is something wrong?" I answered, perplexed by his call.

"There isn't any toilet paper."

"Ouch, I'm sorry about that." I said, suppressing an involuntary chuckle at his predicament.  "I was going to replace the roll when you started to open the door. Give me a second, and I'll get a roll."

My pop-top camper was less than a city block from the toilet, and it was only a few minutes before I was back with it. 

"Are you still there?" I asked stupidly, and without thinking, pulled on the door handle.

It surprised me when it didn't give to my tug. For a moment I thought that maybe the kid had somehow fixed the interior lock, and then I heard, "Yes, Sir."

"Did you fix the lock?" 

"No, Sir, it wasn't broken," he answered, and I heard a clicking sound.

John had said that some of the locks need to be fixed; and, assuming it was broken, I hadn't tried the lock. I hadn't checked it when the kid opened the door earlier or after I had stepped outside.

When the door moved outward slightly, I pulled it outward wide enough to hand the roll in too him.  I gulped nervously when he pushed the door open a little wider.  He was sitting on the toilet completely naked except for his sneakers. Taking the roll from my hand and setting it on the space beside him, he leaned back the same way that, John had earlier.  His beautiful, cleanly circumcised cock, stood proudly upright in a position of readiness, much like a seven-inch missile. Its' thick base was surrounded by a nest of dark silky hair that covered his balls and pelvis; and, there was a silky treasure trail between ridges of hard abdominal muscles to a cute inny navel.  His unblemished, tightly muscled chest rose and fell rhythmically.  The dark nipples of his hard, defined pectoral breast muscles were encircled by large dark aureoles, and demanded attention.  Golden flecks of lust flashed in his glistening hazel eyes; boring hungrily into mine, fires of lust burning in their golden depths.   Breathing in deeply, and wrapping his fingers around his thick cock, he smiled as he softly said, "Why don't you come in?"

* * * * * * * * * *

There were a few sheets of toilet paper still on the roll, but he was right, the door lock was not broken.