My name is James Doone, I'm twenty-five, and I'm a fitness buff. Until that summer in the Rockies, I thought I was just a normal sort of guy, no kinks, the usual sexual preferences, and happily married to a girl who was also a physical education teacher.
So, when I applied for a summer job with Camp Good Health Inc., I was outraged by the personnel officer's line of questioning. He wanted to know if I had a record, and I replied, honestly, that I was clean. Then he pushed further and asked if I had ever had "relations" with a minor.
Well, I turned red with anger and he must have seen the look in my eye because he hastily assured me it was a routine line of questioning. Every applicant, he told me, had to be carefully screened because parents sent their offspring to the summer camp in good faith; and it was up to him to see that faith would not be shattered.
He went on to ask about my sex life with my wife. I told him to mind his own business, but that it was normal. He asked me what normal was. I finally told him twice a week was as normal as I ever wanted to be. Little did I know that I almost blew the job with that answer.
But he went on to dig into my past, and when he heard that I had been working with kids ever since I left college, he was much nicer to me. And before the month was over, I had been notified that the job was mine.
At the end of May I drove up to the camp. It was a big place, long huts set among the trees, gravel paths and rolling lawns, sports fields, and a central building made of brick which housed administration and indoor activities. All this had been fenced in with ten foot high wire fences with barbed wire on the top.
Around the camp, several mountain peaks rose way up into the light cloud obscuring the blue sky. It was very peaceful, not an unnatural sound, just birds and the gentle wind easing through the treetops. Several of the instructors had already arrived, and were sitting on benches outside the administration building.
We introduced ourselves. A tall, thin man called Lester Phipps told me he was there as a dietitian, and a strong tanned fellow by the name of Mark Dennis was in my department, that of PT. The only girl in our little band of early worms was called Elsa, and she attracted me strongly.
Tall and blonde, tanned evenly and golden, she wore a simple white shift and sandals. Her eyes were wide open and blue, a quality of innocence in them that appealed to me. And her hair was yellow as straw, but soft as silk, and gathered in a loose knot at the nape.
She smiled at me when I told her my name, her mouth wide, teeth white and even. For a second I had a vision of that mouth around my cock, sucking at it like my wife would never do. Then I felt ashamed and pushed it out of my mind.
"Want to walk around?" I suggested. "I'd like to get the feel of this place before the others arrive."
"Great idea," she said, and we left Phipps and Dennis to their own devices.
She walked with a long, springy step, as if the energy bottled up inside her was about to explode into an unbridled sprint. I like that in a woman. Her arms swung by her side, small muscles rippling along her upper arms. She was lithe and strong, but full-breasted and round-hipped, just as a woman should be.
We explored the other limits of the camp slowly, checking the wire, looking inside the orderly huts, and talking about the days to come. I felt a terrific longing for her suddenly, I don't exactly know why. I guess it might have been the circumstances – we were all alone, right at the other end of the entrance, behind the last hut on a small lawn. The sky had cleared and the sun fell brightly over everything.
I looked her in the eye, my hand gripping hers. And she responded. Her hand gripped mine just as hard. Her eyes bored into me. Wordless we sank to the ground and pressed our lips against together.
My cock was hard and burning, pressing against my tight trousers as if it meant to burst them. Her hand caressed it briefly, tracing the outline of my knob. Quickly I shed my clothes, watching her slip out of her shift. She stood up straight, her arms bending back to undo the snap of her bra. When it came loose, the bra fell off, sliding down her arms, to reveal firm, upstanding tits, white as snow, with big pink nipples.
Her panties followed, and she stood before me with the tan of her body interrupted by the whiteness of her tits and her ass, as if she was wearing a subcutaneous garment. Our naked bodies met, standing toe to toe, embracing each other and feeling muscle and tit, cock and cunt, meet.
I slid my hands down her back, savoring the smoothness and the firmness of her flesh, the way her back sloped inwards to the small waist, then jutted out suddenly to form two hard but yielding buttocks separated by a tight furrow. I squeezed her flesh and drove her loins harder into mine while her hands fumbled with my aching cock and tried to insert it.
She was in too much of a hurry, I thought to myself, and gently I moved back, pushing her down onto the lawn. When she reclined she relaxed a little, and waited while I enjoyed the spongy firmness of her tits, the flatness of her belly, and finally the down of her cunt.
But that's where she started to get nervous. My hand moved deep down between her rounded thighs and pressed into the hot, hairy crotch in an effort to locate the hole of her passion. Almost reflexively, her hands shot down and removed my explorer, to put it back on her tit. I looked at her in surprise but she avoided my eyes by kissing me fiercely.
Well, I thought, if she wants to play hard to get, that's okay. We've got all the time we need. And I leaned over her to take her nipples into my mouth one by one, to suck at them. How pleasant that was! The more I sucked, the more thrilling it became. I sank into her tits, deeper and deeper, relishing the smooth, pulvinated flesh, her nipple becoming hard as a little bullet. I squeezed the flesh up so that it formed hard balls of tautness, and let it relax to bury my face into it once more.
She enjoyed that immensely. Her breathing became labored, and her torso twisted excitedly with every new development. Once again I sent my free hand to sneak down to her little arbor, almost reaching the top of her cleft before she literally threw my hand off.
I sat up, pissed by now, hard and frustrated, and earnestly desirous of touching her cunt with everything I had. "What the fuck is the matter with you?" I asked heatedly. "You think my hand isn't good enough for your cunt?"
"I just don't like people to touch me there," she said sullenly, averting her eyes.
"Are you crazy? You mean no one ever ate you out or jerked you off?"
"Certainly not!" Her eyes blazed as she turned her look on me like a death ray. "That makes me scream when I'm touched there."
"How do you get on then?" I asked, genuinely curious now. "Do you enjoy sex or do you just do it."
"Of course. I enjoy it. Just don't touch my box."
I sighed and decided I had better make use of my hard-on while I had it. I pushed her back into the grass, opened her legs, keeping my hands at a respectful distance from her blonde cunt, and waited for her to guide me inside.
Despite her orneriness, it felt good to be fucking her. She groaned slightly, pushing at my buttocks with every stroke I drove inside her, and generally let me know I was doing all right. But there was something amiss, I couldn't put my finger on it though and kept on fucking.
I could tell by her steady breathing that I was getting nowhere. Though my dick is by no means a toddler, and my technique has been refined by years of trying to give my wife a climax, I was faltering. She was, I thought, just like my wife. You could plug away all night and get nowhere. It was so discouraging!
Suddenly a rage welled up inside of me, a vindictive white hot anger. If she wouldn't fuck with me, I would fuck on her, and that was that!
I threw out all consideration and sensitivity, to plough into her like she was a piece of liver, or a blow-up dummy of Jayne Mansfield. Screw her orgasm and screw her finer feelings, I would fuck her like a pig!
I fucked violently, driving my prick up her moist cunt as my hands mauled her soft tits to my heart's content. Banging away, thinking only of myself, having fantasies about other women and other sex symbols while I raved on top of her, impervious to her existence.
She must have sensed it because she began trying to throw me off. She might as well have tried to topple the Rock of Gibraltar! I was on to stay. Slamming my prick up her nearly dry cunt, I relished the friction and the elasticity of stubborn flesh.
I came with a sharp jolt and got off immediately. She lay on the ground, her legs still open, her eyes filled with reproach as if I had violated her favorite pet. But I was in no mood to console her. I threw my clothes on and waited for her to get dressed with my back towards her.
When we walked back to the administration building, she apologized for her "idiosyncrasy", and groped for a psychological reason for it. Her parents, she said, had always taught her that the vagina is dirty and to be shunned. Perhaps that was it!
"A lot of parents tell their kids that," I said roughly, "but a lot of kids grow out of inhibitions like that just the same."
"You think there's something deeply wrong with me?"
"Could be – I don't know. I've never come up against such a problem before."
I could see she was really worried. Her big blue eyes were clouded with it, her high, smooth brow was creased with tiny frowns. But since I didn't know what to say, I kept silent.
We reached the administration block to find a dozen other instructors there. Introductions became confusing, in the end we just laughed and said we'd catch the names later.
The rest of the day was filled with instructions, rules, lectures, and finally, towards the end of the afternoon, bus loads of noisy kids, all between the ages of ten and fifteen. They were all city kids, kind of tough and pale, and all girls.
Because it was a girls' camp, there were only the three male instructors, myself included, and the other twelve were women. I looked them over and saw nothing to excite me. Only Elsa looked fetching and sexy. The others stood around like concentration camp guards, middle-aged and squat, like small patrol tanks.
And because there were only three males in the whole camp, we got an enormous amount of attention from the girls coming out of the buses. They poured out like syrup and gathered around the instructors, eyeing them off with a kind of insolence that was entirely new to me. It felt as if they had the numbers, and they could do as they pleased. It was an odd sensation, one that made me shiver briefly.
The patrol tanks organized the girls in alphabetical squads and marched them off to various huts where they were to deposit their belongings and get indoctrinated. I looked after their retreating figures, all those young buttocks swinging under thin cloth, budding tits and the first sprouts of pubic hair pressing against the material, young snatches that had not yet tasted man, nor knew what to expect.
Again, that tremor ran through me like a little earthquake. I shook my head and carted my baggage over to the room I'd been given. It was a comfortable little place, designed for one person. A single bunk, a wooden table and chair, a matching chest of drawers, and a mantle radio. Spartan, but I was glad to get so far away from my wife's vulgar attempts at redecorating our home in neo-occidental or early Filipino rococo. The whole house was a veritable museum of bad taste.
Later, just as the evening meal was finished and I began the short walk back to my room, a girl rushed up to me and insisted on introducing herself to me as Laura. I shrugged and said my name was James, and she clapped with delight, as if I had just asked her to make a deal.
"I saw you when we got off the bus this afternoon," she told me, walking alongside me uninvited, "and I thought you looked very handsome, like a very nice person who I'd like to get to know."
I looked down at her. She was about five feet tall, twelve if she was a day, her thin halter top giving way to slight tits, her tight pants pushed out by firm little buttocks. She was cute. Big brown eyes, her hair wavy and long, upturned nose and red cheeks, a bright little girl I decided.
"So here I am," she went on, skipping to keep up with my long strides. "Do you mind this? I mean, are you upset that I disturbed you or anything?"
"Not at all," I said diplomatically. "I like to get to know the kids."
"I'm not a kid!" she exclaimed, cross now, her high voice rising, "and I'm not just one of the kids either – I'm Laura, I'm a person!"
"Okay, I'm sorry," I said, seeing her eyes flash, "but you must understand that with a couple of hundred kids here, you get to see people in terms of numbers."
I don't know why I explained myself to such lengths, but she seemed satisfied. She walked along till we reached the door of my room, and I paused to take my leave of her.
"Aren't you going to invite me in?" she asked.
"You'd have to be kidding!" I said, shocked at the idea. "They'd run me out of here on a rail!"
"Oh, I see, you're chicken," she said, and turned away. "Okay, chicken, I'll see you after midnight."
Before I could say any more she had disappeared into the evening. I shrugged my shoulders and went inside. The fresh mountain air had made me tired and I soon sank into a sound sleep. I would have slept till late into the morning, but suddenly I was shaken awake.
I sat up. It was pitch black all around me. I asked who was there, and a high-pitched voice answered me in a conspiratorial whisper, "It's me, Laura, be quiet!"
"Get out of here!" I whispered, already having visions of ignominy and a life in the streets. "What're you trying to do, ruin me?"
"Nobody knows I'm here," she said, and I heard the rustling of clothes. "I checked. I'm careful and I'll be gone before anyone's out looking. Now be cooperative or I'll scream."
"Oh damn it!" I groaned, falling back into the pillow. I felt the bedclothes lift and suddenly her tender warm body was close to mine. My eyes were becoming accustomed to the dark by this time, and I saw her shining eyes looking into mine.
"Girls grow up faster than boys, don't you know that?" she whispered.
"And Laura grows up faster than girls," I said sarcastically, fighting back the sharp eroticism of the situation. "Now get out of here before you do something you might regret later."
"I know what I'm doing, James," she said, trying to sound very adult. "My mother has told me all about these things."
"If your mother knew you were here right now she'd kill you!"
"Maybe. But she doesn't know, and I'll be the last to tell her."
She sounded smug, and I felt her little hand on my cock. To my shame it was as hard as a rock, and she chuckled deep down in her throat when she noticed that. Reassured, she nestled in even closer, and I felt the soft, sparse down on her chubby little cunt brush up against my thigh.
At this point I lost what self-control I had, and gave in utterly to the welter of brand new sensations that had been building up inside of me. Her slender, silken body, her hard little tits and the firm young buttocks all became the object of my hottest caresses, switching from my former adult stance to one of hedonistic enjoyment in one second.
Her little arms embraced me, her head against my hairy chest as her narrow loins crushed into mine. Slowly, savoring the forbiddenness of it all, my hand went down to feel her little cunt – and there it was, in my hand, practically naked to the touch, its wide cleft accentuated by its chubbiness, hot and moist, slippery.
And while I groped around, sensing her silken purse with every nerve at my disposal, she stroked my prick and balls with all the zeal of a child with a new toy. My cock felt twice as hard and twice as big as it had earlier in the day with Elsa. It was so erect it almost pulled me up to the ceiling.
Suddenly I became suspicious. I pushed her back and padded over to the door. I unlocked and opened it to look out into the darkness to see if anyone was near. Not a sound, nothing came to my eye. I locked the door again and checked the one window in my hut. The curtain was big and thick enough to protect us from the most piercing of peeping toms.
With a sigh of relief I switched on the little lamp and looked down into the bed. Laura's big brown eyes looked back at me, sparkling with mischief mingled with an oddly womanish kind of arousal. The covers had been kicked to the floor, and she stretched out naked.
Her breasts were like upturned saucers, white, with pink and innocent nipples. Little shoulders of chicken bone delicacy, her torso straight and narrow all the way down her firm hips, brown where her bikini had left her exposed to the sun, white loins with that charming little cleft poking out pertly.
I could hardly breathe, and I was trembling so hard I had to sit down in a hurry or fall down. Never before had I been so aroused, so totally hard, and focused on the one cunt. She consumed me. And she knew it.
As soon as I was back on the bed, she took the red knob of my throbbing dick into her mouth, stretching her lips to the utmost. She barely managed to encompass it, and the pressure on it sent delicious chills coursing through my whole body. I looked at the way her back curved when she was in that position, slender, sinewy, suddenly blooming into two jutting, round buttocks, firm as footballs, untouched by housewifery or nuptial drudgery.
I lay down alongside her, after gently dissociating my prick from her eager lips, and slid down into her crotch. I had to taste her, lick her, eat her up! Smooth lips, silken, firm, smelling of baby powder, piss, and the womanly odor of mushrooms. A delicious combination! My head reeled as my tongue ran down between her parted cunt lips, licking up secretions from her excited hole.
And then, at long last, after I had tortured myself for minutes with residual decencies and qualms, I shoved my tongue up her cunt hole as far as it would go. It passed through a tight, elastic washer to get inside, and she groaned as it gave way to me. I thought of the inflated cock pulsing between my legs, and wondered if my tongue wasn't enough for her for a few years to come.
I held her tight buttocks in my hands, cupping them and squeezing them while my tongue worked into the walls of her cunt, licking at the olive juices oozing out and breaking new ground. My prick was wedged between my belly and the sheets, rubbing back and forth in the vain, and subconscious, hope that I would blow before I would be driven to make love with her.
But she had ideas of her own. Her childish voice turned womanly while my tongue fucked her, and told me to do it to her.
"Do what?" I asked, interrupting my licking for a moment.
"You know what," she said, her breathing harsh and irregular. "You have to do to me what grownups do."
I didn't answer, but her words brought a mad rush of excitement to me. Still, I was unprepared, and I did my best to postpone the moment. First I raised her ass and brought my tongue down to her little asshole, pushing my tongue in and causing her to jerk spasmodically, still begging me to fuck her.
Again I thought of the size of my prick and that tight little hole. It was impossible! She would die if I took her seriously. And yet the thought grew and took shape in my head. I could already feel her tight ring gripping my prick, the popping of the cherry, entering uncharted territory, smooth and warm and wet.
Despite myself I moved up higher, just tempting myself, determined to just touch her cunt with my knob before retreating. And when I was there I thought I'd push it up a little, just to show her how impossible it would be.
Laura didn't seem to care. Her teeth sank into my neck as she opened her legs wide and submitted her body to me. No longer was I dealing with a novice – she was all woman.
I slipped it further into her cunt hole, taking advantage of the spit and the juices already there to drive my swollen knob in even further. Already we were in deeper than I had thought possible, and my dick showed no signs of stopping.
Suddenly she uttered a muffled cry, her teeth sank deeper into my flesh drawing blood, and her nails raked painfully down my back. I felt something warm and viscous flow over my balls, and I knew she had arrived. From there on in, I showed no compunction. Lubricated and wide open now, her cunt took all of me and could have done with more. I rammed and thrust, while she pressed her face into my chest to stop her cries from being heard all over the camp.
I don't think she came on that first night, nor did it matter. I knew that losing her virginity excited her much more than the finest orgasm could. And I felt proud at having done such a good job on her.
We lay in each other's arms for some time after we completed our fuck. Our breathing mixed into a duet of gulping pants, gradually slowing down into regular deep breaths, just as our bodies slowly returned to normal. She said she felt pain, but that it was a beautiful pain, and she wished it pained her more.
We talked for some time before she left, and I got her to tell me why she had been so determined to lay me. It seems her girlfriends back home had all got rid of their cherries long ago, and she was the only one on the block still burdened with one.
"So naturally I wanted to be rid of it," she said, now sounding more like a child trying to sound adult, instead of the woman she had become momentarily, "and when I saw you I had this feeling right inside here," she rubbed her loins, "that you would be the one to do it. Why waste time, right?"
I laughed and told her she had to be crazy for being in such a hurry. "You're a very pretty girl, somebody would have done it for you soon enough."
"I don't intend to waste my life waiting for boys to ask me," she said tartly, "and you're a good example. What would have happened if I hadn't insisted? You would have ignored me and we would have missed out on all this."
From the mouths of babes and fools, I reflected, come the biggest truths of all – something like that. But it was getting late, and I sent her off to bed with the strict warning not to breathe a word of this to anyone, and especially not to write home about it, or it would be my neck. She promised. I wouldn't have been surprised if she knew the legal aspect of her decoration.