The fresh, clean air of the mountain country was good for Doug. Within a few weeks, I was able to harden his cock through, first sucking him off, and later, taking the lead in sitting in his lap with his dick up my ass canal. Merely days later, he was back to humping me in his favorite sidesplitting position. But the fire was not in our fuck sessions yet. We just hadn't reached anywhere near the intensity we had enjoyed before his ass had been reamed by that rhinestone-encrusted double fuck.
One afternoon I left him at the cabin and drove down into the little town in the foothills to buy groceries. I was hauling them to the car when I noticed a young, lean cowboy, decked out in flannel shirt unbuttoned to half way down his chest, tight weathered jeans, leather cowboy boots, and a black cowboy hat. He was leaning against the bumper of a van with smoked windows and rubbing his basket while he watched me sling my sacks of groceries around. I smiled and tipped my cowboy hat and he smiled and tipped his, and then I headed to the men's room at the side of the country store to take a piss before driving the winding road up the side of the mountain.
Unbeknownst to me, the young man followed close behind me into the small restroom and turned the lock on the door behind him. I heard the lock turn and twirled around to see that there were two of us in a rather small, smelly space.
"What, the fu—?" I started to say, not realizing I had turned him on so quickly or that he had been right behind me when I entered the john.
"Don't speak," he said in a hoarse voice, as he stopped my speech with his lips and pulled the tail of my shirt out of my pants and ran the fingers of both hands up my torso to my nipples. He was a lithe, handsome devil, with a deep tan and well-cut features, so I didn't give him much of a fight.
With little more preliminary action, he was undoing my belt buckle and pulling my pants off my hips. His mouth sent to tracing my engorging dick through my briefs. He had me pushed back onto the toilet, where my butt was perched, and he was making appreciative clucking sounds at the back of his throat.
"Not here," I managed. "Anyone could be out there waiting and would see us both leaving together."
"My van," he answered. "I'll be waiting in my van."
He left me then, and I took care of the business that had brought me to the men's room to begin with, adjusted my clothes, and left the restroom, intending just to go back to my car and drive on up the mountain to the cabin. But, as had happened before, curiosity got the best of me, and I walked over to the open back door of the van instead.
