Campground Spy

By Kris Chrandes

Published on Mar 25, 2013

Gay

Skip it if you don't like it. This is all fictional.

If you like the story, support the Nifty archive. All rights are hereby donated to the archive. If you want to contact me drop a note to krchr@hotmail.com. I may or may not be able to answer, but feedback is always read and appreciated.

I have two more parts planned for this, but not written yet.

Other stories by me: 2012: gay/no-sex/new-foot-friend 2012: gay/high-school/naked-neighbor (2 parts) 2011: gay/gift-repayed/encounters/gift-repayed (3 parts) 2011: gay/young-friends/his-brother-likes-feet 2011: gay/beginnings/our-own-island 2011: gay/young-friends/sock-wrestling 2010: gay/young-friends/the-cast 2009: gay/college/2am-at-the-pool 2009: gay/adult-friends/balcony 2008: gay/beginnings/naked-on-film 2007: gay/college/barefoot-in-the-stacks 2007: gay/encounters/airport-feet 2002: gay/young-friends/naked-boy (posted under a different name).


I was a 17 year-old virgin living in a place that could barely be called a town. My high school had about 75 kids in it -- for all grades -- most of whom I'd known since kindergarten. And it seemed like I was the only gay one. The town was scenic, sure, but if you'd grown up there you didn't so much care. In the summer the place filled with tourists. We hated them but took their money with a smile. In fact I'd had a summer tourist job every year since I was 13. The rest of the year there was nothing to do. Especially if you kept to yourself.

Since that was before the Internet, my sexual outlet was basically my active imagination and the local campground shower. It never really snowed here so the campgrounds were open year round but predictably empty in the winter. The more remote ones were totally empty so I usually went to the large one on the lake which in the winter it was mostly just RVers. They weren't much to look at, but still... any port in a storm.

So on a late fall Saturday morning I got up and drove my beat-up truck out to the campgound. There was no staff on the weekends so no one would say anything about me being there and I didn't pay the entrance fee. I parked and walked down to the shore for a bit. It was probably a little above freezing and there was fog clinging to the surface of the lake. I'd missed the morning check-out rush where the RVers get their showers before buttoning up and leaving. The campground was quiet.

I walked back to the bathroom/shower building trying to make sure no one was paying me any attention. The building was long and divided down the middle. When you went in the men's room door there were sinks and three stalls. At the far end past the stalls was another door that led to the shower area. I went in to the last stall, locked the door and sat down to pee. When I was done I spent some time listening trying to make sure there was no one in the shower. This part was important. When I was sure there was no one I pulled up my pants and flushed. Then I unlocked the door, stepped out, and opened the shower door to peek in.

I was always prepared to find someone in there and had my story ready, "Sorry, didn't know what was here," I'd say. But it was empty. The shower room had a bench to the right and along the outside wall. Over the bench was a series of hooks, and over that a shelf that ran the length of the wall. On the inside wall were three shower heads spaced about six feet apart. There were no partitions. About halfway up the wall under each showerhead was the button to turn the shower on for a few minutes. The room was empty but damp having been recently used. And didn't smell all that great. Combination of locker room and that sickly overpainted smell that campground facilities always seem to have.

I went back in to the bathroom section and checked the door again. Then I went back into the last stall but didn't lock the door. I jumped up, put one foot on the pipes at the back of the toilet, and grabbed the top of the wall. The wall was about 8 feet high. I clambered up until I was sitting on the top. This was the risky part. If anyone came in the bathroom door they'd ask what the hell I was doing. You couldn't see into the women's side because there was a partition that hung partway down from the spine of the building. But from up here I could see the whole men's bathroom and shower side like I was looking at an architectural floor plan. I always enjoyed this perspective, but mindful of being caught I swiveled over the wall and reached down with my foot to the pipe on the other side of the wall. I let myself down as quietly as I could.

I was in a narrow alley between the men's and woman's side of the facilities, built so that maintenance people could get to all of the pipes without having to tear up the walls. It was dark and dirty, and rarely visited. The chances of it being visited on the weekend were very small so I was pretty relaxed. Looking up I could see the hanging partition and the skylights on both the men's and woman's side.

I walked down to the shower end of the building and sat on the old crate that was stuffed back there. I'd often wondered why it was there and thought perhaps I was not the only one to do this but so far I'd not been caught. I pulled a paperback out of my coat pocket and settled down to wait.

I heard someone come in on the women's side and heard the shower start. I didn't get up. Definitely gay. There was some activity in the men's bathroom but I didn't get up for that either. Interesting that you could see which toilet was in use by seeing the pipes on this side of the wall jump. Eventually I heard the shower door open -- I'd done this a lot and I was pretty good at distinguishing what was going on by the sounds. It kind of felt like I was the spider at the center of the web.

I got up quietly and moved over to the pipe that was the center shower. I crouched down and looked out the hole where the shower control poked through the wall. Years of campers smacking it with their hands had loosened the pipe and left a good gap in the tile. I didn't have too much worry about being seen since it was pretty dark on my side, but I was careful not to get too close.

Through the gap I could see a guy standing in front of the bench. When he turned for a moment I saw his face in profile and saw that he was probably about 50. Oh well. At least he wasn't the size of a hippo. I decided to watch. He took off his coat and shirt and hung them on hooks. He sat down to take off his shoes and placed them under the bench. He stood back up and faced the bench to take off his pants and underwear, giving me a view of a soft but not too horrible ass. He turned around to show an average circumsized cock surrounded by grey pubes. He gave it a couple of tugs, picked up his washcloth and shampoo, and walked toward the showers. He chose the one in the middle right where I was looking, which was a little odd. Most guys went to one of the ends.

I kept my position and watched him shower. I was bored and horny enough to watch, but it wasn't doing much for me. After a few minutes the shower door opened again and a much younger guy entered. He was probably in his 20s and cute. Him I would wait around for. The old guy turned around and nodded at the young guy. He nodded back then started to arrange his stuff. He took off his sweatshirt and shirt together to show a hairless and well-defined chest. I started to get a little hard in anticipation. He kicked off his sneakers -- no socks -- and pulled down his pants. He was wearing a pair of tight white underpants. Not the usually baggy kind I'd had to wear as a kid but form-fitting. The old guy turned around and seemed to watch for a moment, and unfortunately blocked my view. When he stepped back around The young guy had stripped off his underwear and was standing naked. I couldn't tell if he was a little hard or this was normal for him but his cock arced out into space a little.

The water stopped on the shower and the old guy punched the button with his fist and scared the crap out of me. I managed not to yell. I saw the young guy carrying his stuff toward the shower nearest the door. I cautiously made my way to that pipe. The hole around it was not as big but I was not going to pass this view up. The young guy started the water as I relocated.

When I got positioned I got a perfect view of the young guy's dick as water ran down his body and I and felt myself leaking precum into my jeans. This would provide whack-off material for a while. I watched as the young guy pivoted, showing me his ass, and lathered up. He turned facing the wall, and me, and soaped his dick seeming to give it an extra few strokes. I felt a tingle in my dick and saw that he was getting hard. I couldn't believe he was letting that happen with the other guy there. (I was a little naieve then). He rinsed the soap off and stroked himself some more. This time there was no doubt that he was hard and his dick was pointing straight out from his body.

To my surprise the old guy came into view and he was hard too. He pressed himself up against the young guy and they hugged. Then the old guy started to kneel, kissing the young guy's chest. When he got down he took the young guy's dick in his mouth. I'd heard of blow jobs. Never imagined I'd see a live one two feet away. I wondered what would happen if someone else came into the shower but that was not really my problem. The old guy was sucking for all he was worth and his other hand was fondling the young guy's balls.

After about five minutes the young guy tapped the old guy on the shoulder and pulled his hips back. His dick, looking even bigger than before, popped out of the guys mouth and the young guy started to stroke his cock. The old guy did not get up. It looked like he was probably jerking his own cock but I couldn't see down that far. Suddenly the young guy grunted and shot several large bursts directly on to the old guy's chest. He grinned.

The old guy stood up and I saw his cock was drooping as the young guy's started to also. They embraced and the young guy said, "thanks." At some point both showers had stopped so it was relatively quiet but I needed release and I squeezed my cock a few times. I felt the orgasm build and then explode against the shower wall. I tried to be as quiet as possible. They didn't seem to hear anything.

The old guy went back to his shower and they both turned the water back on. The old guy was presumably rinsing the cum off of him. I sat there holding my very wet cock in my hand wondering what to do. They both finished about the same time and went over to the bench to dry and dress. I enjoyed seeing the two swinging cocks. To my amazement they chatted casually while they got dressed. I couldn't understand all of it but two key things caught my attention. The old guy was leaving today. The young guy was staying another day.

Finally with a quick informal wave the old guy said goodbye and left. The young guy left a minute later.

I cleaned up the evidence as best I could and thought about what I needed to do tomorrow.

(end part 1)

Next: Chapter 2


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