To the left of my vantage point was what looked like a couch. It was one, but was also a toilet and a bed, though hopefully not at the same time. The couch back could fold down into the space between the couch seat and padded cover over the engine in the back to make a full-sized bed. The seat cushion closest to the door disguised a toilet under it. Apparently, it was quite an ingenious contraption. One sat and used the toilet as normal, the difference being your waste fell into a chemical lined bag which quickly absorbed all the moisture turning it into a semi-dry crumbly mass. Flushing, resulted in the bag being sealed shut thus eliminating the chance for odor to escape and linger in the small space. The bag was then compressed into a detachable container for later disposal in the trash. A new bag was then automatically positioned for the next use. I wasn't sure how I felt about living and sleeping above my stored, desiccated, excrement, but figured I'd be finding out soon enough. Below the remaining portion of the couch was storage, storage, and more storage. Well, maybe not quite that much.
As the van was a high-top conversion there was enough room to fully stand up between the couch and the front seats. Up top, above and to the rear of the couch, there was a platform that was actually another bed. This was normally slid shut, but could open up for sleeping. The cushion on it was actually a thin mattress folded in half. Up top, there were also four large sliding windows which let in a lot of light and made the small space feel roomy and airy, not nearly so claustrophobic as it probably would without them.
Finally, in the back, the tailgate door swung up to reveal a large open area. This seemed like a lot of wasted space until I remembered that the van's engine is back there and the couch folds down into the space to make up the bed. On the tailgate door itself was mounted another awning, an opaque one this time, that could be lowered to create a private shower. The shower head and controls were also mounted on the tailgate door, and plumbed into the vans water supply. I set it up and turned it on. Well, it would do I guess. It was a tidy little set up that I was sure I would be intimately familiar with after a few days of use, and screaming sick of after a week. Oh well, I had no other option.
I also didn't have anything I would need to live in the van. It needed complete fitting out. It took about fifteen minutes to convert the van back to road mode and then I set off to acquire provisions. Figuring that what I was really going to be doing all summer was camping, all be it avant garde camping, I headed to the nearest sporting goods store. There I bought lightweight nesting pots and pans, enameled cups and plates, and for some reason titanium knives, forks, and spoons. Folding camp chairs were acquired for my porch. And finally biodegradable soap and toilet paper so I wouldn't, I don't know, harm the environment of the chemical filled toilet bags? My next stop was a local big box farm supply store where I correctly assumed I could kit myself out with steel toed boots, high visibility shirts, jeans with reenforced knees, leather gloves, and even a hard hat. I was at least going to look the part of a construction worker even though I wouldn't have a clue what I was doing. Last stop was a grocery store where I bought all the things a college student thinks are food, that aren't really, to fill my kitchen.
Now as prepared as I felt I was going to be, the next morning I set off on the drive north to the port city that anchored one end of the rail line. As I didn't actually need to report to work until the next morning, I took some time to explore the city, eat good, and purchase a very important item that I hadn't been able to find back in my hometown. An item that I figured would be critical for my auto-nomadic existence. I then scouted out where I needed to go the next morning, before parking up at a public beach parking lot that was a well-known, according to the internet, van-life stopover point.
I didn't bother to set up the awnings or outriggers that night, nor did I cook in the van. I thought about using the van toilet, but opted for the ones in the park. I felt a little uneasy with the number of hippy van-life-types hanging around the bathrooms after dark, in a city I wasn't very familiar with, so I just stayed in the van after that brief excursion. Of the things I did use in the van that first night, all seemed to work very well. Eventually, I was catching myself falling asleep, and so I retrieved the pillows and blankets from storage, dropped the back of the couch down and spread the blankets out to form my bed. I stripped down to my boxers, and turned out the lights.
Though tired, my mind was full of nervous anticipation of the next day. Combined with the parking lot full of other weirdos living in vans making noise, I couldn't fall asleep. I tried to listen to the waves breaking on the beach the other side of the sand dune that separated the parking lot from the shore, but kept being distracted by cars. Eventually, out of other options, I retrieved my important purchase from that afternoon.
The silicon sheath was about the size of an energy drink can, translucent, smooth on the outside but full of nubs and ridges on the inside. I had examined it extensively earlier in the day, but hadn't dared use it in the busy parking lot. But now, in the middle of the night... I retrieved a small bottle of lube, and in the faint glow through the windows, squirted a generous amount into the orifice and then rolled it around to spread the slippery substance about the textured walls. My cock was straining in my shorts, I had never used any kind of masturbation device before, just my hands, and I was tremendously excited. This was going to be as close to fucking a vagina as I had ever come.
I removed my underpants and scrunched a bed sheet into a ball and nestled the sleeve into it. I positioned myself appropriately and rubbed the head of my cock over the slippery orifice, covering it with lubricant. I pushed myself in. I hadn't thought a sex toy could cause my penis to be more stimulated than the one brief blow job I had thus far experienced, but I was wrong. My ex-partner, she, I, both of us, were inexperienced and fumbling, whereas this thing, this thing was engineered to get me off. I started to thrust as I never had before. It was instinctual. Primal. I grabbed another blanket to better simulate a woman's body next to mine and humped away without abandon. In the pale moonlight I could look down and see my shaft sliding in and out of the silicone sheath. In my mind it was warm pussy lips caressing my cock as I plunged in and out of a tight, wet, vagina. She, whoever she was, was moaning for more of my dick, to fuck her faster, harder, and then was begging for me to cum deep inside of her. That did it. My hips thrust forward as I pulled back on the mound of blankets cradling the masturbation sleeve, burying my cock hard and deep into the fake vagina as I came. Came as hard as I ever had.
Though already lying down, I collapsed, spent, into the bed. From out in the parking lot a shouted 'woo-hoo' pierced the quiet night air, followed by a brief round of applause. I suddenly lay very, very, still. From now on I was always putting the outriggers down to stabilize the van when parked for the night. I pulled my cock from the toy, my penis shone wet with cum and lube in the moonlight. I went and christened the van toilet by dripping my semen out of the silicon sheath into it, before rinsing the toy in the sink and putting it away to dry. It had been so mind blowingly good. If I could do that a couple times a day all summer long, it would be a good summer.
In the morning I was tempted to take the toy out again, but as it was the first day of the new job I decided to skip my customary morning wank in order to be on time. Dressed in my swanky new construction worker wear, I reconfigured the van from bedroom to living room and said so long to the beach parking lot and my inadvertent audience of the night before. I arrived at the staging area at this, the western end, of the railway right-of-way. I was directed to an out of the way area along with the other new employees to await somebody important to take us under their supervision. It was to be a day of orientation, training, and testing.
By that evening I was familiar with all the safety rules of the job site, and had passed a test to prove it. I had put out a pan fire with a fire extinguisher. I could properly use a grease gun on equipment. I knew the protocol for using the radios without causing disruption. And I was better informed about the project itself, the scope of the work, all that needed to be done, and what progress actually had been made. Basically, I had a much better idea of how this summer job of mine was going to play out.
I also had learned more about what my van life was going to be like. The company had rented out big blocks of state park camp grounds, farm fields, even the parking lot of a dead old store, to provide space for all the itinerant workers to set up camp as the work slowly moved west to east. There were staging areas for all the equipment and materials that would also migrate down the line with the work, and busses would shuttle us employees from camp to these points at the start and end of the work day.
The work day over, I drove off towards the first camp, in this case a state park 14 miles to the east. As it was still too early in the year for the park to be full of tourists, two entire campgrounds had been set aside specifically for us workers. I showed my work badge at the entrance gate and was assigned a specific camp site. As I drove to my assigned spot, I couldn't help but feel out of place. The other employees all seemed to have big RVs that looked like busses, or huge campers towed behind massive pick-up trucks. Then there were the old school busses or package delivery vehicles that had been converted into campers. There were sides that extended out, big awning tents that covered whole outdoor rooms, ATVs and golf carts galore. Clearly entire families sometimes traveled from job to job. I, it appeared, was the only one who was going to be living in a van.
Though, as the van was small, I had been assigned an out of the way spot on the edge of the campground where the road twisted and turned through the massive trees, overlooking the rugged river that was the reason this state park existed. The giant land whales of my coworkers literally didn't fit down the road. I was alone, secluded, nice. As I wouldn't need to move the van for a week I set it up properly. Outriggers down, awnings open. It had been a long day and I was feeling lazy, which meant the time had finally come. Yes. This summer would go down in history as the summer I pooped in a van. Even with the privacy screens pulled down over the windows it was still awkward. I was very much aware that I was sitting in the back of a van, pants around my ankles, on a toilet. But as advertised, it didn't stink afterword.
