"My Summer Vacation," by David Lee ©2016
Disclaimers and appreciations: This is chapter 1 of a short story which will be posted weekly at about the same time. It contains more plot than sex, but there will be erotic interaction between adult males of a similar age. If reading such material isn't legal for you because of your age or country, please leave.
Thanks to my editors, Tom and David, for proofing.
Thanks to Nifty for providing this venue. If you have the means and opportunity, I'm sure they will welcome donations to keep the site going.
If you like the tale, I'd love to hear from you at: dlee169@hotmail.com. If you don't like it, keep that to yourself! Flames will be ignored. I do my best to answer all emails I receive. Please include the title of this story in the subject line so I don't send it to the spam folder.
My other stories may be found by clicking on the "authors" button on the Nifty homepage and scrolling down to "David Lee."
Chapter 1
"What I did on my summer vacation." No doubt a lot of students over the years have been faced with the task of writing an essay on that subject.
Sometimes it's because the teacher wants the kids to start from the standpoint of an experience which will be of interest to them and aid in their self-expression.
Other times, it probably stems from the teacher's desire to fill (or kill) time while working on a more substantive lesson plan for "real" learning. Either way, it can inspire some interesting stories.
After returning home from my adventure over summer break, I thought I would try my hand, as an adult, at fulfilling that time-honored task. I invite you to join me. I hope you like my would-be chronicle. It was a great summer!
Like a lot of university writing teachers, I've often aspired to pen the "Great American Novel." I know I'm no Ernest Hemingway, John Steinbeck, or F. Scott Fitzgerald, but my use of the English language is rather good, if I do say so. I thought I might be able to fill a niche by publishing a book which would speak to young gay adults because it's a subject with which I'm intimately familiar.
What I needed most in order to begin, I thought, was a chance to get away from Iowa City and spend the summer in an isolated location where there would be a lot fewer distractions. It seems that when a person is in his own environment, things keep popping up to derail his resolve.
My opportunity came when my Great Uncle Walter, whom I'd met in person only once, offered his cabin in Montana as a rent-free retreat. It was exactly the kind of situation I'd been looking for. By subletting my apartment to my friend's son, who was taking summer classes, I wouldn't be out anything financially for the experience; I might even make a few bucks. It appeared that the stars had aligned for me.
My summer began in early June after I turned in grades at the end of spring term. I packed up my SUV with a few of my summer clothes, laptop, bicycle, a bit of camping equipment, and little else as I headed west.
Well, I did take along a new digital recorder to talk into as I drove the many miles ahead of me. It would allow me to multitask, and also keep me from going bonkers from boredom in stretches where the landscape was less than stimulating. I could have used an app on my phone, I suppose, but I like to keep my musings elsewhere in case I lose my phone!
I also brought along my sketching supplies so I could record some of the sights that particularly impressed me. Perhaps I'd turn them into larger pastel works in the winter if I had the time. Or, if they were good enough, as is, I might use them as illustrations in my novel, assuming it got written.
I decided to take a bit of a side trip through Yellowstone National park. It would involve a few more days of travel, but would not be particularly out of the way. My memories of it from childhood were pleasant and I believed reliving them would be a treat.
Shortly after sunup on Monday morning, I was on the road, vowing to make Wyoming before I fell asleep or know the reason why. Western Iowa, other than the bluffs along the Missouri River, and frankly most of Nebraska, held little interest for me in the way of scenery. (Thank goodness for my trusty recording device.) However, somewhere in Wyoming, I knew the landscape would pick up. At least it would be different from what I'm used to.
The best laid plans of mice and men being what they are, I ended up sleeping in Sidney, Nebraska that night. I was tired after having driven nearly 10 hours, and decided that since I wasn't on a time schedule, I could do as I pleased. No one but me knew about my vow anyway.
The supposedly "cheap" motel cost me $45 plus tax for a small room with one double bed, but that included a breakfast buffet. Quite honestly, I didn't want to deal with finding a campground and then sleeping in temperatures which weren't expected to cool off until the wee hours of the morning. I would use my tent in the Yellowstone area where I figured it might be cooler and less expensive. If that didn't work out, I could still find a cabin perhaps.
I'm not dirt poor, but I'm always thrifty. I'll begin the next school year as a full professor with tenure and a substantial raise in pay. If I manage the extra money well, I might go to Europe next summer.
After a relaxing hot shower, I propped up in bed and started reviewing the thoughts that I had spoken into my recorder, on and off, during my long drive. Some of them sounded pretty good, so I use my speech recognition program to transcribe them into a file on my laptop. It had been a productive day and I fell asleep immediately after shutting off the light.
Early to bed, early to rise takes on a new meaning for a Midwesterner who wakes up in the Mountain Time zone. Since I had showered the night before, I brushed my teeth, ran my Braun screen-type shaver over my face and `nads, and packed up the few things I'd brought in the night before.
The little breakfast buffet counter was packed with a number of things to eat, including hard boiled eggs and batter for the waffle irons; therefore, I got filled up before going back on the road. They also had apples and bananas, so I grabbed one of each to snack on while driving. Nothing cheap about me!
A couple of hours, and about 135 miles later, I pulled into a McDonald's for a latte. I'm not a huge coffee drinker, but I like the stuff they make and I needed something to keep me from feeling drowsy. I also took the opportunity to empty my bladder.
Having the extra coffee necessitated an additional potty break a couple of hours later.
About 12:30, I spent a few minutes in another McDonald's for a chicken wrap and fries to tide me over until supper.
When I got closer to the east entrance of Yellowstone, I stopped again; this time at a convenience store to fill the tank and buy a few food items for my next several meals, and ice to keep them fresh in the cooler.
With my early start, I reached the Lewis Lake campground in time to claim a good spot. I paid the modest fee for a three-day stay because it was in a good location to serve as a base for driving to the things I wanted to see. Another plus was that it wasn't in the area where the bison were roaming free. Despite the romanticized lyrics of Home on the Range, I'm not very comfortable around animals of that size and temperament.
I was feeling a little horny after dinner and wondered if I could pull one off in the shower. Grabbing my personal gear and towel, I headed over to check it out. When I arrived there, I saw that it was a big gang-type shower screened off from the toilets and lavatories by a six-foot plus cement block wall which had a doorway at the right.
The sound of running water let me know it was already in use, although I couldn't see the person from my vantage point. His presence wouldn't deter me from getting clean, but would put a damper in my other plans.
I quickly stripped and moved toward a shower-head in the opposite corner.
The other occupant was a man probably in his early 40's who had a bit of a daddy look to his body. Evidently, he hadn't heard me come in because he was slowing pumping his hard cock with his head thrown back and his eyes closed. He appeared to be on a mission.
Try as I might, I couldn't look away or turn on the water to let him know I was there. My rising erection was proof positive that I was paying attention! Though it might be risky, I couldn't resist taking it in hand.
Finally, I started my shower and he glanced my way. He must have been to the point of no return because he blew his load seconds later.
"Sorry," he gulped. "I thought I was alone."
"No problem, you've been an inspiration!" I joked to cover my own embarrassment over losing control.
"Cool! Can I watch you?"
"Okay," I said shakily.
He moved closer as I began to stroke. In record time, I blew a huge load. Some of it hit his groin and dripped onto the wet floor.
He spontaneously hugged me and said thanks. I returned his gesture.
We both rinsed off under my shower.
After he'd gone, it took me a few minutes to stop trembling. Our short encounter had been a powerful release, but also a scary experience. I wondered what would have happened had we been caught. I needed to find a lover who would provide more than a casual quickie in a public place.
My sense of guilt increased when I went outside and saw him walking toward a tent, hand in hand with a woman about his age. He was evidently spoken for.
On my first full day in the park, I did the touristy thing and booked a day trip of the highlights. It turned out to be a good investment because I learned a lot about the geology and history of the area that I would have missed on my own. I noted the places where I would like to spend more time later, possibly doing some sketches.
The van was crowded and the passengers included a couple of little children. I cringed at the prospect of having to spend five hours in their company, but was pleasantly surprised when they turned out to be great travelers. They were brothers who, I learned later, were six and 10 years old.
Their parents had evidently shown them a video of the attractions because they anticipated seeing Old Faithful and the bison with great joy. It actually became an awesome experience watching their reactions to the wonders of nature.
Lunch was at one of the lodges and turned out to be rather expensive. The food was; however, of a higher quality than Steinbeck had encountered on his travels across the country in the `60's with his dog, Charley.
I noticed that the family with the two small boys had brought their lunch and ate out at a picnic table. They were probably traveling on a smaller budget than I was, or were possibly thrifty too.
When I finished my lunch, I asked the father of the children, out of their ear-shot, if I might buy them ice cream cones. He gave his permission and I purchased their favorite flavor – chocolate, like mine. (Their parents had politely turned down the offer to be included.)
"That was very nice of you!" their mother exclaimed.
"It was my pleasure to reward them for being great travelers." I told her.
"See boys, I've always told you that good behavior gets rewarded sometimes. Did you remember to thank the nice man?"
"They did," I assured her.
"I'm Brianna Weaver and this is my husband Zach. Jayden is the 10-year-old and Liam, our younger son, turned six this month."
"It's nice to meet you all. My name is Gabe Grantham."
I shook hands with the adults and bumped fists with the kids, much to their delight.
"You're educated and you get along with kids well; you must be a teacher," Brianna speculated.
"I am a teacher at a somewhat higher level, but how would you know I'm educated?"
"We both come from generations of educators and we know the signs," Zach smiled. "Every time my mother corrected my English, she would tell me that I carried my caste in my mouth."
"Your mother was correct. I tell that to my writing students too! I know it well, but I don't stop to think about how I speak."
We talked shop, as teachers are prone to do, and discussed where we lived.
"I wish you were closer," Zach said. "Our boys could use another uncle."
"You might not say that if you knew my orientation," I responded.
"If my brother didn't have a partner, I'd invite you for the Fourth of July picnic at our house," Brianna grinned. "I think you're going to make some man very happy."
"I hope you're right," I blushed. "Thank you for being open-minded."
For the remainder of the day, I had a sister-in-law, brother-in-law and two adopted nephews who treated me like a member of the family. I loved it, but hoped that I hadn't done anything that might make the kids too trusting of strangers in the future. I shuddered as I thought of the innocent children who have been enticed by friendly-appearing adults with evil motives.
Using a combination of my tiny propane burner and the campfire, I cooked a simple supper. As always, the meal seemed to taste better in the fresh outdoor air.
After a warm shower, without another encounter, I sat down to record some of my memories of the day and make plans for the next couple.
From my fairly central location, I could easily go back to explore some of the attraction which interested me most in depth.
When I finished, I crawled into my tent to read for a few minutes before falling asleep.
The first place I went to the next morning, after breakfast, was Grand Prismatic Spring. I had been surprised to learn it was the biggest in the US and the third largest in the world. Its beauty, rather than its dimensions, had drawn me back, since my main interest was in sketching it. I'm not saying that size isn't an enticement in some situations, but some of us believe that it isn't as important as other qualities.
After an hour, I had a respectable sketch of this marvelous place. I stood back to look at it and to take a few quality photographs with my digital SLR. As I was taking a break, I heard two young voices behind me.
"Uncle Gabe, Uncle Gabe!"
I squatted down to greet my two "nephews" who favored me with their best hugs.
The boys both admired my picture and wished they could make one too, so I gave them each a small piece of paper and access to all of my colored pencils. While the adults visited for the next half hour, the boys came up with rather accomplished drawings for their ages. I was impressed.
We went our separate ways again, but exchanged email addresses this time. I promised to send them a copy of my sketch if they sent copies of theirs in return. This was destined to be the beginning of a long friendship with the Weaver family.
I ate my lunch on the way to checking out some of the geysers I hadn't seen on the tour. Using my camera, I captured their splendor. I was considering enlarging a few of them for pictures in my apartment. They would serve as souvenirs and brighten up the place next winter when Iowa would be blanked in show.
Back at my camp, I felt kind of lonesome. I liked being alone and I had taken this trip to get away from people and things that might distract my mind, but after being with that young family again, I felt an emptiness in my life. I wanted someone special. I'd love to have kids too. Somehow that didn't seem to be a likely prospect at the moment.
I also felt the need to spill my jizz again. I knew the showers weren't private enough to do the deed there, so I waited until I was in my tent after dinner.
I had no Internet connection to pull up a porn site for stimulation, so I began to compose an erotic story in my head. In it, I met a young man about my age at a writing workshop. We had dinner together and ended up in his room. I stayed the night as we made passionate love. I blew my load while imagining his handsome face. Then he faded away and I cleaned up with the briefs I had worn that day and crawled into my sleeping bag naked.
My third, and final day, in the park was spent at the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone. Of course it's nothing to compare with the Grand Canyon in Arizona, but its beauty is spectacular in its own right.
Having my lunch, camera, and sketching supplies all handy, I spent the entire day happily exploring and recording the area.
As the afternoon wore on, I got back into my SUV and drove to the west gate of the park. Since I had packed up and checked out in the morning, I kept driving until I found a motel. Then I went out to a café to eat a good meal that someone else had cooked. It was pleasant not to have to do the chores for a change!
The wireless connection in my motel room allowed me access to a number of sites that I frequented when in need of erotic stimulation. I scrolled through them until I found a favorite author who had posted a rather hot short story. Great literature it was not, but it served the purpose. I daydreamed about being one of the characters; and in a short time, my imagination, aided by my right hand, sent me to my desired destination. I felt very serene and ready to sleep after I cleaned up the mess.
As I drifted off, I found myself hoping that my uncle had put in a satellite dish with an Internet connection in the cabin like he had talked of doing. Otherwise, it could be a long horny summer with little relief.