(Takes up where fourth part leaves off.)
Alone in my tent that night I thought a long time about what had happened.
I had come to terms with what Danny and I had done together; in a strange way, it was almost an extension of our friendship.
But the encounter in the shower -- with a total stranger -- suggested I was deeper into this thing than I suspected. Did I have any boundaries at all?
I thought of something my dad once told me. He was not a big one for giving advice, but when I was 15 or 16 he had sat me down for a talk about contraception, which he said is basically a matter of responsibility. HIs final words were, "Don't let your dick do your thinking for you."
Well, here I was, letting my dick do all the thinking. Nobody was going to get pregnant as a result, of course, but the principle was the same. I wasn't controlling events; events were controlling me.
On the other hand, there was no denying how excited I was about discovering a new side to my sexual self.
Before this trip, I had looked only at females as potential partners, and that had seemed to offer all the possibilities a guy could want. Now the pool was bigger, so to speak, and I couldn't see why I shouldn't dive in.
My cock was hard again, so I treated myself to a long slow wank. I was thinking about the two girls I'd fucked as well as Danny and the shower guy, and it was a satisfying wank, indeed.
The next morning my dad woke me up early to go fishing, just the two of us.
With Danny gone I would be expected to spend more time with the family, which was fine because I would have been bored otherwise. But it was hard to focus on the fish, and I spent a lot of time thinking about other things. Luckily my dad was content to sit quietly, too, so there was nothing awkward about it.
After lunch that day -- it was now Thursday -- I decided to go for a hike. I threw some snacks and a water bottle in the pack, and was getting ready to leave when I noticed clouds gathering in the west. Just to be safe I threw a poncho in the pack, and then set out.
I found myself once again on the rocky outcrop Danny and I had already visited a couple of times that week. I got out the binoculars and scanned the valley, but didn't see anyone, so I let them rest in my lap.
By now the clouds had darkened considerably, but they were moving fast and I figured any rain, if it came, would be brief. Still, it's not a good idea to be in an exposed position in the mountains, so I decided to move down to a more sheltered spot under the trees.
I got out the poncho and started putting my other things in the pack. I had just finished when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned, and a man was coming up the trail.
"Hey," he said. "You probably don't want to be up here when the storm hits. Bad place to be if lightning strikes."
"I know," I said. "I was just packing up to leave."
I slung my pack over my shoulder and followed him back down the trail.
"Are you staying in one of the cabins here?" he asked over his shoulder.
"No, I'm camping with my family in the next valley," I said.
"Won't they worry about you out here by yourself in a storm?"
"No, we've been coming here for years, they know I'll be careful."
Rain started to fall -- big, heavy drops that made popping sounds on my poncho. This wasn't going to be a minor drizzle.
We reached a fork in the trail. The left fork went back to the campground, the right down into the valley with the cabins.
When the guy got to the fork he turned around. It was only then that I realized who it was: one of the guys Danny and I had been watching.
For a second I panicked, thinking he might have recognized me. But he gave no sign of it, and on a second's reflection I decided there was little chance Danny and I had been seen.
The guy was a little taller than me, but it was hard to get an idea of his build because he was wearing a poncho, too. He had had a hat jammed down on his head, but I could tell he had very blond hair, a somewhat darker blond beard and light blue eyes.
"I'm Rick," he said, holding out his hand.
"Gil."
We shook.
"How far back to your camp?" he asked.
"Couple of miles," I said.
"My cabin's half a mile from here," he said. "You can wait it out there if you like."
He saw my hesitation
"Don't worry," he said, turning down the trail. "I won't jump your bones."
I'm sure he meant it sound reassuring, but for me -- who had watched him having sex with another guy twice in the last two days -- it only raised doubts in my mind.
On the most basic level, it was dumb of me to go off with a total stranger without telling anyone where I was going. He might not be planning to jump my bones, but he might be an axe murderer.
On a deeper level, though, I felt something close to disappointment. Why won't you jump my bones? Am I not attractive enough for you?
And what did that mean? Was I subconsciously hoping for some kind of encounter?
I thought of the hot tub. What would I do if he suggested warming up in the tub? Would I get naked with him? What would I do if he came on to me? Would I come on to him?
At that moment I caught the toe of my boot on a rock and nearly did a face-plant on the trail.
"Easy there," Rick said.
I guess I'd better pay attention to what I'm doing, I thought.
By this time rain was coming down hard, and it didn't let up until we had nearly reached the cabin. My poncho had kept me mostly dry, but my boots were muddy and the lower part of my jeans were soaked.
Rick led me around to the front of the cabin, where a short stairway led to a broad screened-in porch. I took off my poncho, shook the water off and climbed the stairs.
Just inside the porch, Rick stopped to take off his boots, indicating I should do the same.
"We can put these in front of the heater to dry," he said.
"Heater?" I asked. "In a cabin?"
"My ex insisted on it," he said. "She refused to stay here in cold weather unless she could always be sure of getting warmed up."
