Date: 9 May 2002 15:59:24 -0700
From: Dave <davmay699@icqmail.com>
Subject: Camping with Dad (Camping & Incest m/M, m/MM, b/MMM, m/b)

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                         Camping with Dad
                               By
                              Dave


	I moved a lot growing up because my father worked at a
number of menial jobs from milking cows to carpenter.  When I
was very young we even lived in a logging camp on the eastern
slopes of the Sierra Nevada Mountains.  It was located on Pine
Creek northeast of the town of Bishop.  This was before I even
started school and it was a great place for a boy to play.  I made
so much noise running up and down mountain trails, I scared
game way.  I rarely saw deer or bears but I chased lizards all
over the place.  I had streams and lakes to play in when ever I
wanted.  Unless you've ever lived in the mountains where the air
is heavy with the smell of Douglas fir and cedar trees you can't
appreciate how much it feels like home to get back when you
can.

	I had discovered sucking cocks from a cousin who was
almost a year older than me when I was eight.  We used to spend
our summers camping out in the brush-covered hills of northern
San Diego.  In a four-year period we progressed from sucking
each other to fucking each other.  When his father died of a heart
attack his mother married the youngest brother of her husband
and they moved north to live near his job.

	I only had a few sexual encounters from 1 to 18.  I did
have one with a boy who lived across the street when I was 10
he was the first to fuck my ass.  When I was 14 years old I had
an affair with my barber until he got caught seducing a younger
boy.  I was lucky enough to not be connected with what went on
in his back room.  No one ever knew that the starting tackle on
the football team was a cocksucker.

	This leads us to this story.  When I was eighteen years old
and about to leave home for college my father decided that we
should return to Pine Creek for a week of fishing.  He called up
a friend of his (Wilber or WG as he liked to be called), who had
lived up there when we did.  The two of them called another
friend (Jim), who still lived up there.  The three of us drove up
to Bishop on highway 395 on a Friday night.  Our packs and
camping gear was an odd mix of World War II backpacks and
sleeping bags.  Dad and I put all our fishing gear into shoulder
bags.

	When we got to Bishop we renewed our friendships and
we met Jim's twelve-year-old son Danny.  Early the next
morning we were up before the sun and drove up to June Lake.
We parked the car and took a look at the lake.  The banks were
crowed with fishermen.

	We got out our gear and saddled up for the hike in a
southerly direction to a lake so high that the mountains around it
had snow on every slope but the south facing slopes even in
July.  I was dressed in Levis, boots and an old sleeveless cotton
practice football jersey.  WG, Dad and I were out of practice
when it came to hiking up trails and were slowly working our
way up the winding trail behind John.  John walked at a steady
pace far out in front of us.  Danny was like a monkey, he had
just as much gear as we did but he would run up the trail and
come back to tell us how much farther it was to a stream
crossing.  I swear that for every mile we hiked Danny hiked
three.  At a point before we got to above the tree line we passed
through an area that was infested with snow mosquitoes.

	I picked up a pine bough to swat the mosquitoes off my
arms.  It was not long before my arms were so tired that I
couldn't swat them anymore.  I watched them turn from skinny
brown things into round bulbous dark red things from my blood.
When we cleared the tree line we broke free of the mosquitoes.
By that time my arms, face and neck looked like I had been in a
fight and lost.

	We reached the lake we were looking for by noon.  John
led us around the lake until we were on the southwestern corner
of the lake.  We selected our campsite on gravel among rocks
that were taller than a man.  We had a clear view of the lake and
the portions of the John Muir trail what passed the eastern side
of the lake on its way to the pass to the next valley.

	I was not happy with sleeping on gravel but we gathered
up some tall grass near the edge of the lake and made a place for
our sleeping bags.  John sat down and made a fire ring with
rocks and set a wire grill on top.  He built a small fire and
brewed coffee for the five of us while we had lunch.

	We started fishing after lunch.  I had put on canvas tennis
shoes for comfort.  I was working my way around the western
side of the lake.  Dad and I were using fly rods and I walked out
onto a large boulder so that I could get clear of all brush so that I
could cast out into the middle of the lake.  The rock must have
gotten wet from my line after many casts because I slipped off
the rock and into water that was six or seven feet deep.

	You can't believe how cold that water felt.  I had been
setting all morning and the sun had been warming me while I
was fishing.  You don't notice it so much because at 11,000 your
sweat evaporates as fast as it comes out of your skin.  The
melted snow water never gets warmer than 56 degrees.

	When I got out of the water my teeth were chattering.  I
had to go back to camp and strip off my clothes.  Dad and I
spread my clothes out over rocks and brush to dry.  I put on
fresh clothes and I went looking for sunny spots to fish in an
attempt to warm up.  As the sun was starting to set behind the
western mountains the five of us worked our way back to camp.
We had only kept the fish we were going to eat for dinner.

	We built a fire and John pulled out a cloth bag with flour
in it.  I was to learn just how versatile that bag was.  He actually
floured the fish in the bag for cooking.  In the mornings he
would stick his fist in the bag creating a hole into which he'd
would put in small amounts of water and make biscuits right in
the bag.

	That night I was still cold and Dad had me get into his
sleeping bag with him.  We all had our sleeping bags radiating
out from the fire in a circle.  That way we could enjoy the heat
from the fire and talk to each other until we fell asleep.

	John, WG and Dad would tell tall tales about Texas and
Oklahoma during the depression.  Danny slept with his father
the first night.  We just listened to the tales and wondered how
many of them were true.

	I was falling asleep while they were still lying to each
other.  Sometime during the night I woke up for some reason.  It
took me a couple of minutes to figure out where I was.  I
smelled the coals of the fire, looked up at the stars, felt the heat
of my father's body and heard the snoring coming from the
directions WG and John.

	Then I felt Dad's hand gripping my cock through my
under shorts.  I didn't know what to do.  I lay there getting a
hard-on.  Then I felt the back of my shorts being pulled down.  I
felt the warm meat of his dick slid between the cheeks of my
ass.  It didn't try to enter my asshole but it rested between the
valley of my ass.  He started jacking me off slowly.  He had to
know I was awake because I snore like a bear when I sleep.

	When I was about to cum he rolled me over and caught
my cum in his hand.  I watched him lick his hand clean by noon-
light.  I reached for his dick and found that it was sticking out of
his boxer shorts.  I had to work to get between his legs.  Dad had
to move up almost out of the bag and I took his cock into my
mouth and sucked him until he climaxed into my mouth.  I never
missed a drop and milked him dry.  When I finished I moved
back next to Dad.

	When I could smell the coals and brush again I noticed
that it had grown quiet.  All I could hear was the brush rustling
in the breeze.   I wondered if our activity had woken everyone
up.  I could here them breathing.  Then I heard Danny let out a
soft moan.  I looked across the fire ring and could make out that
Danny was laying face down and John was on top of him.  I
could not see it but I knew he was fucking his son in the ass.
When I looked at WG his sleeping bag was tenting up at the
waist in a tell-tale sign that he was masturbating as fast as he
could.

	In the morning I was a little shy about getting out of the
sleeping bag.  I just knew that someone would make a comment
about me sucking Dad's cock last night.  When Danny got up he
was stark naked as he headed for the brush to piss.  His little
cock had a boner that had it bouncing from a 45-degree angle to
vertical and slapping his flat lower tummy.  John got up and
scratched his scrotum as he headed after Danny to relieve
himself.  WG got up and he was naked too.  He followed the
same track in the direction of John and Danny.

	Dad finally unzipped the bag and opened the sleeping bag
up.  When the early morning air hit my body I knew that my
bladder was full too.  My Jockey shorts were tented up so much
that my red pubic hair was exposed.  When I looked at Dad his
dick was sticking out of the fly of his boxer shorts with a raging
hard-on.

	He stood up and dropped his shorts and followed the other
guys.  I got up and followed them too.  When I found them they
were lined up pissing into the brush laughing and talking.  When
I pulled the waistband of my shorts down and under my scrotum
to pee I was informed that the uniform of the day was skin.

	Dad finished pissing and stepped behind me and pulled
my Jockeys down.  I stepped out of them and he handed them to
me.  John told me that very few hikers came up this trail and all
we needed to do is put on swimming trunks when we saw them.
By Monday the only person that would ever pass was the Forest
Ranger.  I knew the ones in this area, and we didn't need to
dress in their presence.

	I was staring at the four of them.  I had seen Dad naked
many times but never though much about him as a sexual
partner before.  I had spent one night in bed with him when I
was 14 and we masturbated each other.  That happened while
Mom was visiting her sister, because she and Dad were having a
fight.  But that night was never mentioned again.

	Dad was about five-feet eight-inches tall and because of
working outdoors his body was lean and tan from the waist up.
Below the waist he was almost ghostly white.  His hair was
sandy and his eyes were blue-gray.  I got another hard-on just
looking at him.

	WG was about six-foot two-inches tall.  He was a welder
and his body was covered with burn scars but they were hard to
see because he was a redhead with freckles over almost all of his
body.  The only place no freckles showed was the area covered
by his swimsuit.  WG's cock was enough to make your mouth
water.  It was at least seven inches long when it was limp.  It
hung in a lazy arc and the head of his dick was purplish red.

	John was an old pot bellied man.  His arms were covered
with old tattoos that were so faded that you could hardly make
out what they had been.  His black hair was graying at the
temples and he had more hair on his back than some have on
their head.  The friction of his shirts would not let any hair
grown on his potbelly.  It was hard to even see flesh below his
belly because of all the black hair.  There, his legs rubbed
together and they were nearly hairless, but the rest of his legs
were covered in hair.  He even had some hair on the tops of his
toes.  His cock was about six inches long but it rivaled a beer
can in diameter.  It was circumcised but half of the shaft was
nearly hidden behind the hair growing in his pubic area.

The reason John had a young son was because he knocked up a
local teenager that worked in the local dinner.  She ran off with a
trucker passing through.  So John was raising Danny by himself.
I found out later that he had been fucking him from the time
Danny turned ten.

	That leaves Danny he was a skinny boy with his dad's
curly hair, although it was light brown in color.  His eyes looked
large for his face and his teeth were straight and clean.  His
penis was small and smooth while his scrotum was small and
hard.  He was just beginning to grow hair above his dick but as
yet he had only a few strands of hair there.  His slender body
exposed every muscle when he moved.

	We were making our way back to the campsite as we
talked about the fish we caught yesterday.  Most were barely pan
size because they stocked the lakes with rainbow and German
trout every spring.  Very few survive the winters, because at
11,000 feet altitude, not much grew in the water.  The fish have
little to eat but each other.  The fish will bite anything that falls
in the water.  Dry or wet flies attract fish like magnets.

	When we got back to the camp John said, "Everyone will
have to excuse me while I put on pants and a shirt while I cook.
I don't like to get burned."  We all laughed at that.  He got a
bucket of water to wash up.  He stoked the fire and started
coffee.  This was my first time to see someone make biscuits
right in the bag of flour.  He made powered scrambled eggs and
sausage for the five of us.

	The rest of us cleaned up the dishes and cooking utensils
while John tidied up his sleeping bag so critters could not get in
it during the day.  Then he selected the bait he was going to use
today and put his boots on and wet off fishing while we cleaned
up the campsite.  The waste food we carried off into the brush
far enough to not attract critters to the camp and buried it deeply.

	We hurried up and gathered up our fishing gear and
drifted off in different directions.  Dad stayed within sight of me
and it wasn't long before everyone else was out of sight.  As
lunchtime approached Dad waved me over to join him.  We
found a rock to sit on out of sight of the lake.  We had a bag
lunch and took a little nap afterwards.  When I woke up I asked
Dad about his friends.

	He said, "John and WG had been my friends from the
time we lived up here."  Then he asked me, "Have you been
fucking your cousin?"

	I paused and admitted that, "We have been doing it from
the time I was ten."

     He asked, "Do you think you can handle my cock?"

     I said, "I think I can handle almost anything but that
weapon of John's."  We both chuckled, and Dad said, "It took
me months before I could take it.  I can't believe that Danny can
take it."

	I thought about that for a while and wondered if I could
take John's dick up my ass.  I suddenly wanted my father's dick
in my ass.  I lay across the rock and used both hands to open my
asshole for him.  Dad spit in the palm of his hand and stroked his
meat as he stood up and positioned himself behind me and
guided his dick into my asshole.  When it was past my sphincter
he took hold of my hips and thrust deeply into my hole and
fucked my ass.  I climaxed first and when he came in my hole
we found that I left a gob of cum on the rock.

	We fished awhile longer, and worked our way back to
camp.  When we got there, WG was fucking Danny in the ass
while Danny was sucking his father's dick - or should I say the
massive head, because the boy couldn't get the entire thing in
his mouth.

	Dad and I watched while was masturbated each other.
Dad and I both came, and started making dinner.  Danny
continued to suck off WG.  When they were done they walked
down to the lake to wash up.  Then they joined us.  After dinner
we washed the dishes and talked awhile as the sun set.  The
biggest discussion was who would sleep with whom.

	Dad slept with John and Danny.  I slept with WG.  We
didn't even close the bag until early morning when it got cold.
Until then it was the most fun I even had.  WG and I sucked
each other off as we watched my Dad get fucked by John, while
little Danny was under my dad sucking on his dick.

	I lay there on my tummy watching my dad fuck Danny
while WG greased me up with KY jelly then fucking my
asshole.  After he came in my ass WG rolled over on his back
and lifted his legs up to show me his asshole was ready for me to
fuck him.  I greased him up and fucked him.  We laughed and
said that our sleeping bags would have to be washed before we
got home because of the dried cum stains on them.

	Monday night it was my turn to find out if I could take
John's dick.  It hurt my jaws getting that thing into my mouth.
When he came in my mouth there was more than I could handle
because my mouth was full of his cock.  When I exhaled his
cum came running out of my nose because I could not swallow
it fast enough.

	Then John started getting me ready for my fucking.  He
laid me on my tummy and lavished kisses all over my back and
ass.  I was getting wet when he stuck his tongue in my asshole
and reamed me out.  Then he applied a generous amount of KY
in my butt-hole.  I watched him cover the shaft of his cock with
KY, and then he pulled me up to a kneeling position.  Then he
guided his dick to my butt-hole.

	I was watching WG's and Dad's face as I felt the pole
spreading my sphincter until I thought it would split me wide
open.  I bit my tongue to keep from crying out.  Danny was busy
being fucked by WG while he was sucking my dad.

	When John got most of it in my hole, he rested while my
hole adjusted to the size of it.  When my muscles relaxed, he
started fucking me.  My dick and heavy scrotum were swinging
between my legs as I was being fucked. When he came in me,
cum ran down the inside of my legs.  John turned me over, lifted
my legs and licked up his own cum from my legs and asshole.
Then he sucked me off until I fed him my cum.

	Each night the bed partners changed, the three adults sat
around and watched Danny and I suck and fuck each other while
they masturbated as early evening entertainment.  They would
shoot their cum onto our bodies and rub it in before bed time.

	The Ranger did stop by on Thursday night with fresh
stakes.  John had arranged for him to bring up to us.  That night
we had a party that included him.  The fact that he was
uncircumcised was a thrill for me.  It was fun masturbating him
and drinking his cum from the cup formed by the skin.  It was
like sucking a soft straw getting the last drop with my tongue.

	When we hiked out on Saturday my legs were bowed
from all the fucking I had received over the week.  Dad, WG and
I dropped off Danny and John.  The five of us showered
together, in groups of two or three in John's home.  We cleaned
up, and we had a big dinner in Bishop before we headed home.
The topic of the conversation was when we would get together
again for another fishing trip.

	Dad and WG took turns driving back to LA.  That way the
two of them could take turns in the back seat with me.  In the
five hour drive home I milked cum out of each ones dick at least
three times.  I lost count of the number of time I came.  All I
know is that my dick was swollen up like a dog's dick does
when he gets it locked in the cunt of a bitch.  It took a couple of
days for the swelling to go down.



If you enjoyed the story and have a story you would like me to
write send your comments to: davmay699@icqmail.com.