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From: Jenny Wanshel <chilly2@biosys.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} NEW STORY: {Jenny Wanshel} "Be Prepared" (mf, Girl Scouts)
Date: Thu, 3 Feb 2000 00:10:05 -0500
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"BE PREPARED"
by Jenny Wanshel
The Dorothy Harrington Memorial Girl Scout Encampment is in theory
miles and miles from anywhere else, up in the mountains. In actual
fact when the Harringtons left the vast tract of forest land to
scouting some of it went to the Boy Scouts, so there is a Boy Scout
camp right down the road.
For some reason the proximity of the two camps is not emphasized
or even mentioned to parents, who might worry, I suppose. In any
case there is a river, which you can clearly see on any map,
separating the two camps.
I have heard this river described as a "raging torrent". I suppose
it may well be, during the spring runoff, but most of the year it
is a narrow trickle running down the center of a wide sandy bed.
You can jump across it without getting your shoes wet, at some points.
Officially there is no connection between the two camps. They don't
even acknowledge each other's existence. There are no jointly planned
events, not even a dance.
Unofficially, however...
The question of the possible presence of boys nearby came up at a
patrol meeting, while we were planning for our two week stay at scout
camp. Amanda pulled out a badly xeroxed map of the camp area and marked
the location of the boy's camp and the boundary between the two camps.
"They're on the other side of the river," someone remarked. "Won't
we -- I mean they -- need a canoe or something? If they wanted to
come pester us, I mean."
"Ah yes, the "raging torrent". When I was there last year it dried
up so much you could step across it. It's not much of a river. It's
really more of a creek."
"Goodness! Then they could just come raid our camp anytime they
wanted to, couldn't they?"
"Oh, it's a tradition. We always raid their camp on the first night,
and then they raid us back."
"You mean, like a panty raid?"
"What's a panty raid?" Cecilia asked.
"Hush. No, it's more like they steal all the butter from the camp
kitchen or something stupid like that."
How, and whether, there might be any interaction with the boys
across the "river" was discussed at length, with Amanda assuring
us that we would meet boys if we went; and since we were all
definitely going, it was a good idea to be prepared.
At the next patrol meeting, the last one before we left for camp,
Brenda reached into her backpack and pulled something out.
"Remember what you said about being prepared last week?" she said
slyly. We looked at it, dumbfounded. It was a large box of condoms.
"I got these for the whole patrol. We can share. If anyone needs them,
that is."
"Oh. My. God!" Susan and Darla squealed.
It was a measure of how little action Brenda imagined we might see
that a single box of one dozen Trojans was supposed to last our entire
patrol two weeks.
I rather expected that of the 12 condoms, 11 would still be left when
we came home from camp -- and the twelfth would have been blown up
into a balloon and left in somebody's bed as a prank.
Darla and Susan both claimed that they had never even seen a condom
before (hadn't they taken the same sex ed class I had?) so Amanda had to
pull one out, open the tin foil pack and show them how it worked. Bunny
went down to her Mom's kitchen to find a cucumber or banana and since
neither could be produced she brought back a roll of frozen cookie
dough, about 9 inches long and 3 inches wide.
"Okay, let's pretend this is the boy's penis," Amanda began.
Darla's eyes widened. Susan asked, "My goodness. Is it really that big?"
"No. Not unless the boy is Brad Dunleavy. Otherwise, an actual boy's
penis is about half this size. We're just using this to demonstrate."
"That's good," Susan said solemnly, "because I know I could never
get anything that big inside me."
"You certainly couldn't", Amanda said. "That's why if you're out on
a date with a boy and his thing is that big, you should immediately
turn him over to Jenny and me."
Amanda gave me a big wink. She knew about me and Brad. She had been
one of Brad's conquests herself. If conquests is the right word,
since usually girls chased him and Brad just failed to run away very
fast.
I saw one of my old high school chums a few years ago, and we were
playing "remember so and so?" and I happened to mention that dear old
Bradley, whom no one had heard from in years, had had the biggest
cock in our high school, and had been such a slut that he had slept
with practically any girl who wanted to sleep with him.
My friend looked at me with widened eyes and a trembling lower lip and
said "Any girl? Do you really mean that?" And I rattled off a long list
of names, concluding with "you really didn't sleep with him? I always
assumed you did -- all you had to do was ask." And she gave me a bitter
look and moaned "Damn it, why didn't you tell me this at the time?!"
Nobody's heard from Brad in ages and I hope he didn't screw one girl
too many and die of AIDS.
"Even something half that size...", Susan said dubiously, eyeing
the kielbasa-sized tube of cookie dough and covering her crotch
with her hands.
"Will fit just fine. You'll see."
"Are you sure?"
"It opens up like a flower -- pretty soon you'll be able to park a
truck in there."
Gales of giggling as Susan looked mortally offended.
"I know who can park a truck in hers," Bunny said slyly.
"Who?" Several minutes of vicious commentary about the alleged morals
of girls not present and believed to be sluttier than us followed.
Eventually we got back to the condom demonstration.
"It rolls on like this, um, see --". It was really too small for
the job and it broke.
"There," Amanda said. "Lesson One: It can break. Make sure it does
not break when you do this with a boy, or you will be one pregnant
and sorry Girl Scout."
"That reminds me of a rhyme I heard," Darla said.
"I met a boy, he sure was nice.
He held my hand and he kissed me twice.
He kissed me good, he kissed me better.
He reached right up underneath my sweater.
He touched my knees, he touched my thighs,
I gasped out loud and I shut my eyes.
I didn't say no, I didn't say maybe;
And Ma, that's how I got this baby."
(That's as best as I can remember it, anyway.)
Another condom was tried -- that left ten, which was still about
ten times as many as I thought we needed -- with better results. Amanda
was able to roll it on successfully this time.
"Here -- this is all that stands between you and a baby," Amanda
said, stretching the rubber taut.
"What if it breaks while we're doing it?"
"Half the kids in our school wouldn't be here if condoms didn't break."
Someone asked Brenda where she had gotten them and it turned out that
since she didn't have the nerve to walk up to the drugstore counter
and buy them (I know I blushed scarlet the one or two times I had
done this), she had just carried a big purse with her and shoplifted
them, while Cecilia acted as lookout.
Amanda suggested that next time they just ask her to buy them; she'd
be glad to.
"Don't they ask you for ID or something?"
"No. They don't care. I guess if you were 8 years old maybe they'd
ask you if you were buying them for your mommy."
The question of which drugstore was the best place to go if you didn't
want anyone you knew to see you buying embarrassing articles of
personal hygiene was discussed.
Actually, to this day I don't buy things like condoms or, god help
me, vaginal yeast medication, in the neighborhood where I live. I'm
too worried that one of the kids from the school where I teach will
be standing behind me in line, and my presumed sexual habits would
then become a hot topic of conversation in the school cafeteria.
Not that unmarried schoolteachers are expected to be virgins in these
parts. Some teachers even brag about their latest boyfriends to the
students, which is okay if you have braggable boyfriends. I'm afraid
some of my little sexual escapades wouldn't stand much scrutiny. If
you have a nice boyfriend who makes good money and takes you to Cancun
for the weekend, that's one thing. If on the other hand, you just
happened to be really, really horny one afternoon, and the batteries
on your vibrator were going dead, and at that precise moment the UPS
delivery man just happened to knock on the door....
All I can say in extenuation is that in a dim light, if you were
a little drunk, the UPS man does look a little like Tom Selleck. And
I don't usually get that horny. Hardly ever, really.
So, anyway, the condoms became the property of the patrol, and Amanda
and I were put in charge of hiding them and smuggling them to camp,
since we already had hiding places for our own birth control.
The first hiding place I ever used was Barbie. Her head came off and
you could put stuff in her hollow torso, although not much since
she was so skinny. And I was pretty sure that Barbie was the last
place my little brother would look if he was snooping in my room.
You couldn't store much contraband inside Barbie though -- I wish
they had made a extra large "Fat Camp Barbie" who had ballooned up
to 300 pounds, because you could have put more stuff in her, but
they didn't. I sometimes hid stuff under my mattress, like my copy
of "My Secret Garden" and this copy of Playgirl that I found (and
later got paranoid and destroyed -- it wasn't enough to toss it
in a trash barrel, I had to tear it up into little pieces and
then scatter them in several trash barrels, after dark, skulking
like a 14-year-old girl spy in pigtails. In retrospect I can't
even imagine what I was thinking). Under the mattress was not a
secure place since it was the first place anyone would look (it
was certainly the first place I looked, when I snooped in my
brother's room and found his secret cache of Playboys and an
issue of Penthouse that really grossed me out).
We had storage space under the eaves on the second floor of the
house and if you crawled way back in there there was a spot where
the floorboards were loose and you could lift them up.
Under the floorboards was insulation, and you could lift up a hunk
of the insulation and bury something under it if it wasn't too big.
A dozen condoms, minus the two we had wasted showing Darla and
Susan how to use them, would certainly fit. So I took them home
with me and hid them, and Amanda agreed to smuggle them into camp
with her camping gear.
If they were found I would just pretend I didn't know whose they
were and look accusingly at my brother. Being a boy our parents
probably wouldn't care if he was getting any. They'd probably
be proud.
The day of the trip came and I passed the condoms on to Amanda,
who made them disappear. She was good at that sort of thing.
My dad gathered half of the patrol up in his car and drove us all to
the rendezvous point where the bus was waiting. Cecilia sat next
to him and flirted with him all the way there. Which made me want to
pull out my Swiss Army knife and gut her like a trout.
I suppose that was hypocritical of me since I was attracted to
Susan's dad and flirted with him any chance I got, and I probably
would have let him do me in a second if he had wanted to. But the
fact that Cecilia obviously felt the same way about my dad did not
make it okay.
Susan's dad was an attractive, funny, young-looking man. I tried
practicing my skills as a sultry seductress on him but he seemed
oblivious when I squeezed in close and rubbed my breast against his
arm, or when I stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek to thank
him for some favor he had done. I don't think he was fighting the
temptation to rip my Girl Scout uniform off and ravish my jailbait
fanny -- I think he was just immune to my charms. Maybe he was just
too happily married to Susan's mom to notice.
Cecelia all too obviously had similar notions about my dad. I
was glad when he dropped us off and left.
Our troop boarded a chartered bus which took us all the way up into
the mountains upstate, and I am rather embarrassed to recall that we
really did sing "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall" all the way through.
And so we arrived, just barely in time to miss lunch, at the
Harrington Encampment, aka "Camp Winnemokee".
* * *
We got placed in a cabin with a Senior Girl Scout named Sandra as our
counselor. Sandra was 18 and was starting college in the fall. She was
pretty lenient. Our troop leader was there too, staying in a cabin
with the other troop leaders.
After we got situated and fed in the mess house there was a great deal
of work to be done. I got assigned to the latrine detail the first day.
This was an incredible stroke of luck -- everybody has to pull latrine
duty and I got to go down in the trench before it had been used, rather
than after, which I hear is rather distasteful.
Somebody had started the trench by making a cut with a backhoe, or
something, and we had to get down there with spades and shovels and
straighten out the sides, toss out the loose bits, and deepen it a
little before it was used. So we spent a couple of hours tossing
shovels full of dirt over the side of the trench. Occasionally
one of the more butch counselors got down in the trench to help us
deal with a rock.
It was a hot summer day and the sun beat down on us mercilessly.
After the first hour we were sweating like pigs and our shirts were
sticking to us. One of the older girls took her shirt off and then
everybody did. There weren't any boys around to see so why not. It
must have looked like one of those Womyn's Music Festivals.
My bra was soaked, clinging damply to my tits. I didn't take
it off. Mine were larger than the other girls' and I felt shy
about exposing them. Somebody would have been sure to make
wisecracks about a couple of loose boulders.
"What happened to the old latrines?" someone asked.
Evidently the old cinder block latrine house at the other side of the
camp had backed up and overflowed, or been shut down by the Board of
Health, or both, so that we were reduced to crude makeshift field
biffies worse than what you would find in a Boy Scout camp. All in
all, pretty disgusting, and 4 out of 5 girls preferred to go in the
woods.
Digging a ditch is hard work and when supper time came around we
had more appetite for the franks and beans they served in the camp
mess hall than the food deserved.
Afterward there was a ceremonial campfire circle when it got dark and
we had a camp opening powwow. One of the counselors played guitar
and we sang old beatnik hootenanny folksong standards like "Michael
Row the Boat Ashore."
A peace pipe was passed around the circle but there wasn't anything
burning in it because it's bad for your lungs. Later on though I
believe some of the older girls went off in the woods and passed
around a little pipe among themselves.
It seemed like we had been up all night when we finally got to bed
around 11. Sandra made us christen the new latrine before we went
to bed. Another group of girls had been assembling nice splintery
wooden seats with round holes in them while we had been sweating
like coolies in the ditch, and they were ready to be used. Most of
the girls wanted to go behind a bush in the woods rather than use
those things, but Sandra explained to us that there was absolutely
no going into the woods after sundown. Strictly forbidden. You could
get lost in the woods and eaten by a bear or something.
Later on after lights out she told us a spooky ghost story about a
girl just like us who had unwisely gone out in the woods without
her buddy, after dark. She thought she could walk 100 feet into
the woods and then turn around and walk back. Surely she would see
a faint light coming from the camp to guide her back.
When she turned around to head back she couldn't see a light. None at
all. Nothing but pitch blackness. She could have yelled out a "hallo",
or blown a blast on her whistle...but she hadn't brought her whistle
with her and she felt embarrassed shouting. Camp was only 100 feet away,
she knew the direction. So she started walking.
They combed the woods for her for weeks but she was never found. Not
a trace of her. They say her ghost haunts the woods, and you can
sometimes see it flitting between the trees in the darkness, forever
searching for her way back to camp. Shiver!
We had uncomfortable camp beds and not enough blankets to keep out the
night chill. I slept like a log the first night. The second night Amanda
shook me awake around midnight and whispered in my ear that the raid on
the Boy Scout camp was happening and did I want to come? I growled "no"
and tried to go back to sleep but she dragged me out of bed and made me
come along anyway.
Well, obviously you have to wear your gang colors when raiding another
gang's turf so she waited while I got into my G.S. uniform. We didn't
wear our uniforms around camp much as a rule, except during formal
ceremonies like bridging etc.
Out in the parking lot near the road there were about a dozen girls
assembled. Most of them were older than me. A girl named Shoshanna,
whom I knew slightly, was the ring-leader. Shoshanna told me to go
watch the troop leaders' cabin and warn them if anybody came out.
I stood watch for about 20 minutes and then a girl named Plum came to
collect me -- the troops were moving out. So I rejoined the group as
they started hiking down the road.
The road led downhill through the woods. It was pitch dark -- no street
lights out there -- but the sky was clear and the moon had risen, and
there were about 10,000 stars. We marched quietly down the macadam road
in the darkness. Most of the road was lined with trees, but in some
spots there were spacious, hilly meadows on either side of the road.
It was a warm night in the foothills. It was as silent as a cathedral,
except for the soft chirping of a million insects and the croaking of
bullfrogs as we passed the pond.
There was no traffic on the road, since there was nothing on the road
except for the two camps and they were locked up for the night. We
hiked two by two down the hill.
I walked with Amanda and she told me in a whisper that Sandra had had an
abortion, and other lurid gossip about various people around camp.
I marveled at how many stars there were overhead. There seemed to be
about ten times as many as there were in town. I could spot the Little
Dipper and find Polaris but other than that I didn't know their names.
I could have oriented myself by the North Star if I had gotten lost, I
suppose, but other than that I was completely deficient in sky lore. Later
that summer a couple of parents took us out with a telescope for a star
party and I learned to identify the summer constellations.
That star party was a memorable trip for me, by the way. We stayed
out all night in pup tents on a hillside and cooked over an open fire.
I also had an encounter with a wolf -- the two-legged variety, I mean.
Susan's dad was not interested in me, but that didn't mean all of the
dads were immune to the lure of my bouncy young bottom.
Cassie's dad was a nice, ordinary looking guy who happened to be a school
science teacher and an amateur astronomer. He was there with his wife
and Cassie, of course, and our troop leader was there, so we were all
adequately chaperoned.
I got up just before dawn to go pee in the bushes.
You weren't supposed to go pee alone, you had to use the buddy system.
I didn't want to wake the other girl in my tent so I went out alone and
bumped into Cassie's dad, who was already up and around even though it was
still dark, and he offered to come stand guard while I pee'd in the woods.
So when I was done with my business there we were alone in the dark and
he started saying something about how cute I was, and what a mature figure
I had, and I started getting the idea. Since he smelled nice and I
had woken up feeling a teensy bit horny I let him run with that line a
little ways until we got the feeling that the feeling was mutual.
He kissed me and I wound up unzipping him and feeling his man-sized prick
while he rubbed my mound through my pajamas, and one of us orgasmed and
it wasn't me, though I was pretty excited. When I got back to my tent the
other girl was still asleep and I finished myself off with my finger
inside my panties, stifling my little moan of relief when it happened.
After that of course Cassie's dad didn't leave me alone and even made
excuses to phone me at my house. I felt kind of trapped. I wasn't all that
attracted to him; it had been completely just a spur of the moment thing.
Finally we went to a motel and did it for 4 hours and he drove me home.
I didn't see him again after that, except when he was with Cassie.
All of which is a story for another time. I felt deliciously wicked
going to a motel though.
Anyway, as I was saying before I interrupted myself, it was a beautiful
starry night in the forest.
Even the creaking of a million insects was swallowed up by the immense
black silence. It seemed to me that the hills were alive, and even the
glittering starry sky seemed alive. We filed down the road quietly and
as we approached the boundary of the boys' camp Shoshanna ordered us
to be extra quiet and alert as we penetrated into enemy territory.
Once we were on the boys' turf Shoshanna led us off to wait in the
bushes while a couple of scouts went ahead to reconnoiter. Somebody
had a bottle of peach schnapps and this was passed around and we each
had a sip. It was thick and sweet and it made me feel a little warm.
The two girls who had been sent to scout ahead came back and reported
that the way seemed clear, so we pressed on up the road to our
destination, the entrance to the boys' camp.
There was a big wooden sign arching over the road at the entrance
grandly announcing "BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA / SHOSHONE COUNCIL" with
a picture of an Indian chief in his war bonnet holding a hatchet.
We had three small buckets of paint and a couple of paintbrushes. Our
mission: to deface this sign.
The portions of the sign we wanted to get at were a bit high up off the
road and we didn't have a ladder. Somebody athletic had to scale the
sign like a monkey.
We found a trash barrel in the weeds and set it up next to one of the
supports of the arch, and four of us took turns standing on it to
climb up onto the sign.
A girl named Dovey was considered our best sign painter, so she took
the can of paint and a brush. I held her by the waist so she wouldn't
fall as she leaned out over the top of the sign, head down, and painted
upside down.
The Indian's hatchet was artistically decorated by Dovey with blood
and gore, with large gobbets of blood dripping, EC comic book style,
from his gory weapon.
Shoshanna pronounced herself satisfied with this stage of the work
and we climbed down. Meanwhile, two other girls had been rewording
the lettering at the top of the sign. They must have been a lot more
athletic than I was to get that high up on the arch over the roadway.
They had carefully painted over part of the lettering in the sign,
so that with a couple of little dabs of paint a B became a P and y
became a g, and a couple of other letters were erased.
"Boy Scouts" was now "P g S outs", and as one girl braced the girl
with the brush to keep her from falling, a couple of new letters
were lettered in. The sign now read "PIG SNOUTS OF AMERICA".
That was the front of the sign, facing the road. The first carload
of boys to drive up the road in the morning would discover it. We
placed the trash can in the middle of the road, under the sign,
as a roadblock.
Darla painted a pictographic representation of a Girl Scout on the
trash can, a stick figure with a triangular skirt, two round circles
for boobs and a Girl Scout cap perched on her curly hair, with a
smily face. Under the picture she painted the Girl Scout trefoil and
the cryptic letters CWWH, which stood for "Camp Winnemokee Was Here".
Then we tidied up and marched home, pleased with our night's work.
We were a bit exhausted the next day, but thankfully there were no
more latrines to dig.
At dinner the camp director made an arch little reference to somebody
"decorating" the B.S. camp (who, us?). We looked back with blank faces.
That night there was a retaliatory raid by the boys. They somehow broke
into the storeroom and made off with our entire supply of toilet paper.
They left a little calling card sign of their own but it was apparently
mildly obscene and had been covered up before I got a chance to see it.
It was a Sunday and the stores in the nearest town were closed. Somebody
had to drive 36 miles in the jeep and buy out all the toilet paper on
the shelves at the nearest open general store, and the cheers when the
jeep got back, from girls who had been holding it in until the toilet
paper arrived, were loud.
As soon as we got a chance to go hiking without a counselor we crossed
over to the boys' side of the river to spy on them.
* * *
Two Boy Scouts were pissing behind a tree. Neither was particularly
distinguished in his manhood but I don't think Beth had ever seen a
boy's thing before -- at least a boy that was big enough to fuck her.
Beth was a virgin.
"Oh my god -- you can see their wieners," Beth whispered.
"Here." I passed her the field glasses so she could get a better
look.
Beth's mouth hung open slightly as she watched the two boys urinate.
Finally they zipped up and the show was over.
"Let's follow them," she said as they hiked down the trail.
"If you want to see some boys, I know a really good spot where we
can spy on them," I said.
I hadn't been there yet but a Senior Girl Scout from another troop
had marked the spot on my map. It took us nearly an hour of scrambling
through the hillside thickets until we emerged, slightly scratched and
muddied but triumphant, on a bluff overlooking a mountain pool that
was the boys' swimming hole.
We peered out cautiously from behind the bushes and there they were:
below us at least a dozen Boy Scouts were skinny-dipping in the pool.
"Eep!" Beth said. I pulled her back and put my hand over her mouth.
"Hush! Do you want them to hear us?" I whispered in her ear.
"We need some camouflage. Come here and help me." We cut some slender
branches from the nearby bushes with my Swiss Army knife, which Dad
had so nicely given me for my birthday -- my favorite gift -- and wove
them together to make a little makeshift screen.
We then belly-crawled back to the edge of the bluff, keeping the leafy
screen in front of us, and peeked through the twigs and branches at
the boys below.
The boys were completely oblivious to our presence. They were as naked
as jaybirds. They were splashing and cavorting in the cold mountain
water, and climbing up on the rocks to jump back in. I saw as much
naked boy flesh in five minutes as I had seen before in my life,
and I wasn't a virgin like Beth.
Beth was riveted. She had the field glasses and every time a boy would
climb out of the pool and expose his taut, pale little butt the glasses
would slowly track him. She bit her lip in excitement and breathed
faster when a boy turned around and exposed his penis before diving
back into the pool.
I had seen naked boys before -- boys had even stripped for me at my
request. (Or at least Robert Miller had). None of these boys had
anything that would embarrass a horse. In fact you could stack all 12
of them together and not embarrass a horse. I suppose shrinkage must
have been a factor -- that cold mountain water probably didn't let
them display to their best advantage.
Still, my breathing was coming faster too, and I wanted Beth to stop
hogging the binoculars. I had been skinny-dipping myself a couple
of times with boys and a couple of other girls, but because we were
spying on them from hiding this was a lot more exciting.
As each boy climbed out of the water and his wet skin gleamed in the
sun, I felt my pulse quicken at the display of bare male buttocks,
long legs and wiry young muscles. None of them was Playgirl material,
but some of the boys were rather handsome.
One boy in particular impressed me. He was tall, with brown eyes,
a firm jaw, wavy brown hair pasted back against his skull by the water,
broad shoulders, and a torso that tapered down to his slim hips. He
had strong, powerful-looking thighs and I could imagine what they
would feel like hugging them between my thighs.
I pressed my thighs together tightly to squeeze my pussy. No hands
required. I gave myself a series of hot little squeezes while I
watched the boy I admired shake his golden body in the sun.
>From the way Beth was breathing I imagined that her nipples must
be as hard as mine and the crotch of her panties getting a bit sultry.
I wondered what would happen if these naked young studlings caught us
spying on them. I imagined us surrounded by naked boys, their dicks
slowly lengthening as they licked their lips and appreciated their two
pretty Girl Scout captives. They would force us to take our clothes
off -- we would have no choice but to comply, of course -- and we would
shiver in our bras and panties trying to cover ourselves with our hands,
as our Girl Scout uniforms came off. And then...
Well, of course, there was really no danger of us getting caught and
unwillingly gang-banged. If they spotted us, which could happen at
any moment if one of them happened to look up and saw the sun
reflecting off the field glasses, all that would happen is that there
would be a shout and we would run like hell. And it would take them
10 minutes to climb up that bluff and we would be long gone.
In fact, I thought that if they knew girls were spying on them they
would grab their clothes and run as fast as they could in the opposite
direction, mortified that Girl Scouts had seen their little swinging
penises. And then they would post a guard the next time they went
skinny-dipping.
I was sorely tempted to shout "Yoo-hoo! Boy Scouts!" and wave
at them just to watch them run. But that would have ruined it
for the other girls who knew about this spot.
"What do you think of that boy?" Beth said, pointing to a boy
who had just climbed out and was laying on a rock to sun himself.
I borrowed the field glasses -- they had to be pried out of her
grasp -- and took a closer look. He was slim and blond, with
straight hair. Not as tall as the boy I liked.
"He's cute," I whispered. "You like him?"
"Yes, I do believe I fancy him a bit."
"I like that one -- over there -- see? Splashing that other boy?"
I had to pass her the glasses back.
"Oh, he's nice. He's a really big boy isn't he?" (She was referring
to his height, not his dick size -- sorry readers).
"He's such a hunk." As we watched he climbed out onto the rocks and
you could see his firm manly buns. "Omigod, check out his ass."
"That is a very sexy bottom he's got, isn't it," she said. I was
pretty sure she didn't know what a boy's ass felt like. I'd had my
fingernails digging into a few, although it was only a few at
that stage in my life.
"I can't believe you can see their peters and everything!" she
whispered, as my favorite turned around and displayed his.
"Well, those aren't much. But they're all shrunken up because the
water is so cold."
"Goodness! Are they normally bigger than that, then?"
I giggled.
"Heh, about twice that big I'd say. I've only seen a few of course
(ahem) but I'd guess they'd be bigger if they weren't in that water."
"I wish we could see them when they were, um, you know...hard," she
whispered, blushing.
"Have you ever seen a boy with an erection?"
"No."
"Well, you could, you know. If you got that boy with the blond hair
alone I guarantee he'd show it to you if you asked."
"Oh, stop it!", she giggled. "I'd die! Goodness, I'd have to have
sex with him then, wouldn't I."
"Well, you could just say "Hmmph! I've seen bigger" and walk away.
And then he'd probably spend the rest of his life in therapy."
"Well, I wouldn't say that. I've never seen one at all."
"I know. Remember, everyone had to answer that question when we
were playing Truth or Dare?"
"Omigod yes, and then Susie said --"
"-- the only man she had ever seen with an erection --"
"-- was her Dad! Omigod!"
"And Brenda said --"
"How big was it?"
"Omigod! I couldn't believe it!"
"And then Susie said "This big!"", and I held my hands about 6 inches
apart the way Susie had.
"And Brenda said --"
"Oh, my Dad's is bigger!"" we chimed in chorus.
"I can't believe it!"
"Omigod, yes, wasn't that a scream!"
We giggled uncontrollably at each other and then we had to shush
ourselves, hoping the boys didn't hear. They were making too much
noise shouting and laughing at each other to hear us.
After a while the boys got dressed and hiked back to their camp, and
we returned to ours, pleased that we had spied on them without getting
caught.
* * *
That night I lay in my camp bed in the darkness for what seemed like an
eternity. Beth and I whispered back and forth between our beds and other
girls kept shushing us, but I don't know why. I'm sure they weren't going
to sleep either. Finally, a hand tapped me on the shoulder and startled
me fully awake. I had been drowsing off to sleep. It was Amanda, and she
was rousing everyone who was sneaking out.
"Get dressed. Don't put on any lights," she whispered. Then she moved
on to Beth's bed and told her the same thing.
We got our clothes on and followed her outside, following her silently
single file to the edge of the camp and then down the trail into the
woods.
It was inky black darkness inside the woods. As soon as we were away
from camp Amanda pulled out a big flashlight and shone it ahead of us
to illuminate the trail. It was spooky as hell to see the darkness all
around us and the one little circle of light on the trees in front of us.
The limbs of the trees overhung the trail thickly and reached out
at us like skeletal hands. The flashlight cast eerie shadows into the
branches wherever it shone.
The dirt trail was well worn; people had ridden horses through there
and it was beaten down hard. It led gently down the side of the hill,
into the shadows.
It was as quiet as death. The air was still and there was no rustling
of the leaves. You could hear the occasional hoot of an owl in the
darkness, and the soft droning whisper of a million insects in the
distance.
Halfway down the hill we ran into another patrol and scared the
daylights out of them. They were headed down to the river crossing
to fraternize with the boys too. Night maneuvers. Heh.
When we got down to the river crossing Amanda paused to pass out the
condoms, one to each girl.
"You don't have to use it," she said. "It's just in case."
"I'm not going to need mine," Darla said.
"Take it anyway."
As advertised, the river had shrunk to a trickle in the summer heat.
We walked across the wide, sandy bed in the moonlight and found stepping
stones to cross the narrow stream. Darla fell in up to her knees and
her shoes made a wet squishing sound when she walked for the rest of the
night.
As we approached the boys' side I thought I heard male voices, but I
couldn't tell where they were coming from.
We went about a quarter of a mile into the woods on the boys' side,
pitch black except for the circle of light from Amanda's flashlight,
before a boys' patrol intercepted us.
"Omigod," Beth whispered in my ear, holding my hand and clinging
to me.
Amanda seemed to know one of the boys and she went over and spoke
to him quietly for a couple of minutes, while the rest of us huddled
nervously a good 20 yards down the trail from the boys. We could
barely make them out at the edge of the darkness. They might have
been cute, or maybe not.
Amanda came back and spoke to us.
"It's okay. They're going to take us over to where everyone is
hanging out. Just follow me."
We hiked a mile through the woods following the boys, who stayed
just ahead of us. Eventually they led us out into a pretty little
moonlit clearing in the woods.
There must have been at least 35 boys and girls there, hanging
out in little clumps of five and six. Somebody had a keg and there
was a tape player playing music, but not too loud. The woods
seemed to swallow up the sound.
I talked to the pimply faced boy who was managing the keg and
got cups of warm beer for me and Beth. We sat on a rock at the
edge of the clearing and sipped our beers thoughtfully. Amanda
and Brenda were talking loudly with a group of four boys and a
girl I didn't know, and they were laughing a lot.
After a while Brenda came back and said that they were going to smoke
pot with the boys and did we want to come. Beth looked at me and I
looked at Beth and I said no, so Brenda went back to her group and
they sloped off into the woods where they could smoke in privacy.
"This is boring," Beth said after we sat in silence for a few minutes.
"This is going to be the most exciting night of your life," I said,
in the voice I used when I was imitating Amanda. "Let's go meet some
of these boys."
A couple of boys had been lurking about 20 feet away, pretending not
to notice us, and I decided to start with them so we walked over and
introduced ourselves. Just that simple, although Beth's voice was
quavering and so faint you could barely hear her. I felt kind of
nervous myself.
"So, like what school do you go to? Mid-Valley? Do you know Dan
Reynolds?" Et cetera; that sort of small talk. It was just an excuse
to check them out and let them check us out, and after a while I
decided we should see what else was available so we excused ourselves
and moved on to attach ourselves to another group of kids.
"Oh look -- a shooting star," Beth pointed.
"Where?" I missed it, as usual.
A couple of tall boys walked over to us.
"Hey, is there a meteor shower tonight? Beth says she just saw one."
The boys craned their necks to look, and one of them thought maybe
he had heard something about a meteor shower, maybe. So we spent
about 10 minutes pretending to look for meteors to cover the fact
that we didn't know what to say, but it gradually came out that
their names were Chuck and Henry (aka Hank).
Neither of them was particularly bad looking. In fact they
were kind of cute. They were a bit on the shy side and I suspected
it must have taken all of their courage, possibly accelerated by
a few pints of beer, to come over and speak to us.
Beth and Hank were having a slightly technical conversation about
the constellations and what time of year you could expect the
Perseid meteor shower that I could not follow. Chuck couldn't seem
to make up his mind what to say to me so I asked him about his
merit badges, which led into a discussion of some fine points of
woodcraft lore, and he got me another cup of beer.
While he was gone I got Beth's attention and gave her a quizzical
look. She was having a hard time tearing her attention away from Hank.
"Hank, can I talk to Beth for a minute?" I asked. I pulled her off
to one side and asked her if she wanted to keep hanging out with
these boys or if she wanted to move on and meet some others.
"Oh, I think I like Hank," she whispered in my ear.
"Okay. Well, do you want to, you know...go somewhere more private,
maybe?"
"Oh, I don't know," she said, after a long pause. "What do you want
to do?"
"Oh, I don't know," I said. "Let's play it by ear."
When Chuck came back with our beers I suggested we go for a walk in
the woods and see if we could spot any deer. The boys had a light
and by shining it into the darkness maybe we could see the eyes of a
deer or raccoon reflecting the dazzle of the light.
So the four of us trooped off down a trail into the trees and started
exploring. The boys managed to catch an owl in the light of their
flashlight before it flew off in a flurry of wings. We wandered about
for a little while, Beth and Hank following absent-mindedly behind
carrying on their quiet little conversation and completely unaware of
Chuck and me.
We came to a snug little patch of clear, dry ground bordered by big
rocks. I suggested that Beth and I might want to sit down and rest,
and I made sure that bashful Chuck sat down next to me with his arm
around me.
Chuck switched off his flashlight and there we were in the dark. It
was a warm summer night in the forest, lonely and silent, pitch black
except for the bright stars shining in the cold distance of space a
few trillion miles over our heads.
I let my hand intertwine with his, and he squeezed it. I couldn't
see what Beth and Hank were doing, if anything. I could see a dark
mass moving toward my face and I realized that it was Chuck's head
and that his face was only a few inches from mine. I guessed that
maybe he wanted to kiss me and I brought my face close to his until
I could feel his hot breath on my cheek, and then our foreheads
banged together and I muttered "ouch!"
"Are you okay?" Beth whispered to me from a few feet away.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just bumped my head."
I took my glasses off and tucked them away in my pouch.
I snuggled in close to Chuck and felt the heat of his tall
strong body. He put his arms around me and his head gently came
down again to find my lips, and this time he hit the mark. His
lips touched mine delicately, just like the brush of a butterfly's
wing, and then I softly rubbed my lips against his, just so you
could barely feel it.
He gently nipped my upper lip between both of his and let go, and
I did the same to him. Gradually our lips came closer and closer and
our kissing got moister and moister until I opened my mouth and
his tongue slipped in.
He clutched me tighter and I rolled into him and pressed my breasts
against him. His hand stroked my back and touched my wavy chestnut hair.
We necked hard and after a little while I felt his hands reaching
for my big soft breasts, and cupping them through my shirt.
Without ever taking my mouth off his I unbuttoned my shirt so
he could reach inside.
I felt his hands clamp gently onto the big round cups of my bra.
Through the cotton I could feel his hot palms on my nipples. They
started growing hard.
He squeezed and palpitated my breasts gently and my tits felt tingly
and swollen. My taut nipples strained against the inside of my bra.
I got my shirt down the rest of the way and reached behind with both
hands to unclasp my bra. Chuck made a little grunt of surprise or
satisfaction when he realized that I wasn't pushing him away, just
making things easier for him. I got my bra unhooked and pulled it off
and let my tits swing free.
Chuck took one in each hand and lifted them like he was hefting
the weight, and then his hands stroked over them gently, touching
every inch of my breasts and lightly brushing over my hard nipples.
I knew that Beth and Hank were only about six feet away and I wondered
how they were getting along, or if they were watching us, or what.
It was pitch black but even in the dark it must have been obvious
that Chuck and I were making out hard.
Chuck put his lips on one of my nipples and sucked it. And then
he did the other one. My nipples were tingling like they were
on fire. I was excited, and the thought that Beth was possibly
getting her nipples sucked too only a few feet away made it
more exciting.
I got my hands into Chuck's uniform shirt and felt his strong
chest muscles. I unbuttoned his shirt and touched his smooth skin.
He kissed me and I could taste my breasts on his mouth.
I got my arms around his back and pulled him to me and he mashed
his strong chest against mine. My nipples rubbed his chest.
Chuck's hands slipped down and touched my skirt. Then they slipped
down further and found the hem.
I was kissing him hard and I didn't give him any signal to stop.
His hand slipped up under the hem of my skirt and crept as soft as
a cat up my bare leg. He found the little white cotton triangle of
my panties between my thighs.
As his fingertips gently pressed my panties I felt them slide slickly
along my lips, and I knew I was damp.
One finger accidentally brushed the tip of my clitoris and I moaned
softly into his mouth.
I tried to remember where I stuck that condom.
He insinuated a finger between my thighs and slid it softly along
my groove. My thighs opened a little wider for him.
He pulled my panties down. I lifted my ass up off the ground to
let him.
He sucked my nipples while his fingers found my clit. It stuck
out hard and he flicked it gently from side to side.
I spread my legs wider.
His head wandered down my breasts, across my belly and under my
skirt, and then I got a big surprise. He kissed my pussy.
I had read about this in books but no one had ever done it before.
His tongue licked up one side of my labia and down the other.
He was doing cunnilingus on me.
I thought this was something older, divorced women with money hired
gigolos to do to them.
I never expected a boy my age to do it to me for free. Without even
being asked(!).
His big wet tongue licked up one side of my labia and down the other.
Over and over, with a regular, steady stroke. Sometimes it just barely
grazed the side of my clitoris and sometimes it didn't.
Omigod, it was great. It was worth paying a gigolo for. I was definitely
going to do this again.
My pussy lips were hot and swollen. He never took his mouth off them,
caressing them with his hot tongue.
"Oh god, Chuck, that's incredible. Don't ever stop," I whispered. I
don't know if he could hear me with my thighs clamped around his
ears.
I heard a rustling sound and someone was touching my elbow. It was Beth.
"Are you all right?" she whispered.
"Oh yes. I'm in heaven."
"Where's Chuck?" It was pitch dark and she couldn't see him.
"Chuck is doing cunnilingus on me," I informed her. "It feels
really good, too. How are you making out with Hank?"
I stroked Chuck's head as it bobbed between my knees. He kept licking
me and never paused.
"We, um, you know. He sucked on my breasts."
"Did you like it?"
"Yeah, it was nice. I don't know what to do, Jenny. He wants to,
he wants to, um..."
"How far did you go?"
"Just second base."
"Do you like him?"
"I think so."
"Let him have third base. Take your panties off and give it to him."
"Okay. Thanks Jenny."
Chuck's tongue stroked along the sides of my clit more insistently
now, and my clit got very tender and curled up into its hood to
escape his probing. My vagina was throbbing hot.
I lay back and closed my eyes and thought of England...no, just kidding.
I thought about how incredible his tongue felt on my pussy and how
unbelievably hot and tense my pussy felt and how I could really use a
good orgasm. A good hard one....
I let my mind float away as the tension built higher and higher. His
strong tongue stroked my cunt again and again.
I stroked his hair. "Keep doing that, Chuck," I whispered.
At last I felt like I was going to burst. I felt like I needed to
pee and I had to let go.
There was a throbbing sensation in my clitoris.
"Don't stop!" I whispered urgently. "Oh please don't stop Chuck,
please don't stop!"
I felt his strong, clever tongue stroking up the length of my hot
labia...and then I blew up. My cunt erupted, my legs clamped around his
head hard and I whispered "Don't stop now! Don't stop!" in a whisper
that turned into a quiet shriek. My cunt felt like it burst, and
I shivered from head to foot.
An intense wave of heat surged through me, shaking me like an earth
tremor. My cunt throbbed and throbbed. After about 10 seconds I had
to pull his head away from my cunt to make him stop tonguing me; I
couldn't take any more. It felt wonderful.
"Jenny, are you all right?" Beth whispered. She and Hank had stopped
whatever they were doing and were murmuring between themselves.
"Yes, I am very fine, thank you," I whispered back. Had I made a noise
or something?
I lay back and Chuck crawled forward until we were face to face again
and cuddled me. I smelled my cunt all over his face and licked his
cheek to taste myself.
"That was wonderful, Chuck. No man ever did that to me before."
"Thank you," he said. Thanking me?
Where had he learned to lick pussy like that, I wondered. "Where
did you learn to do that?"
"Ah, I can't tell you. Just, um, you know. Girls."
I would hope so.
Chuck took my hand and held it down between his legs so I could feel
his erection.
I felt up and down his skinny, rock-hard, circumcised length, through
his pants.
"Do you want to do something to me now, Chuck?" I whispered.
"Yeah."
"Here, use this." I hunted around in the dirt trying to find my
pouch and get the condom out of the pocket.
"It's okay, I have one," he said. I heard his pants unzip and then
he was hopping around in the dark trying to get them off.
At last he got completely naked. I gracefully removed my skirt and
spread my legs. It wasn't long before I felt something hard pressing
against my pussy.
I reached down to grab him and guide him in. His dick was neither
particularly large nor very small. It was extremely rigid. I guided
it into my channel and he started working it up into me.
He licked and nibbled on my breasts while he worked the first inch
or so in and out of my cunt. After a while he let it slide in deeper
and I sighed. He gave a few short strokes and a few deep long ones,
back and forth like that. I was breathing hard, and he slid deeper
into me, and just as I was beginning to enjoy it he shot his wad.
One minute he was humping me hard and the next he collapsed panting
on my chest.
"Did you come?" I whispered.
"Yes. Did you?"
"I came like a house on fire when you used your mouth on me. You
were great."
He cuddled up next to me and sort of zoned out. Next thing I knew,
Beth was whispering at my elbow again.
"Jenny, are you there?"
"Yes."
"I think we're going to try to do it! But the condom broke."
"You can have mine." I reached around until I found my shirt and
handed her my condom.
"Thanks!" Beth scooted away in the darkness and after a little while
I heard her whimpering and ouching. She was a virgin and it was her
first time.
"Oh...right there...please...ow...slow down...yeah...it's okay...go
ahead, just go slow," I heard her whisper in her soft little voice.
I wondered whether Chuck was listening to Hank deflowering my friend
too, or if he had fallen asleep.
I heard Beth gasp "oh holy god!". I don't think she was having an
orgasm, I think that was the sound she made when Hank opened her up
and broke the seal.
Beth moaned softly.
My arm was lying in their direction and I felt Beth's hand find mine
and squeeze it. I squeezed her hand back.
It didn't take Hank long to finish. We all lay there for a while,
me basking in a very pleasing sort of post-orgasmic bliss, until I
heard someone blow three short blasts on her Girl Scout whistle.
It was Amanda hunting for us.
"We have to go, Chuck."
He roused himself enough to start getting his clothes on. Beth had
heard Amanda's whistle too and was getting her clothes on.
Chuck found his flashlight in the dark and led us back to the clearing.
Beth and I hung back and let the boys go ahead, and I gave her a
tight hug.
"Oh, Beth!" I said.
"Oh, Jenny!"
"Was it okay?"
"I don't know."
"It gets better," I said.
We got back to the clearing and the boys said goodbye. I wondered
if Hank would be boasting that he had popped a Girl Scout's cherry
when he got back to his cabin.
A group of girls was getting ready to go back. Some looked like they
had been rolling around in the bushes like Beth and I had, and some
looked like they had had too much to drink or smoke, and some looked
like they hadn't even been spoken to by a boy and had been bored out
of their minds.
"Did you have a good time?" Amanda asked.
"I think so," Beth said. I could tell she was bravely holding back
her tears.
"Yes," I said. I was thinking of the little piece of paper I had
in my pouch pocket with Chuck's address on it. He sure had liked
sucking on my tits, so I thought he might like to see me again,
if we could figure out a way to get together. He lived about
twenty miles from where I did.
A week later we went back home. Beth inherited all the unused condoms
that were left over, since she was going to need them now that she was
an ex-virgin.
Dad met us in the parking lot where the bus let us off.
"Did you girls have a good time?"
"Yeah, Dad."
"We had a wonderful time, Mr. Wanshel," Cecilia cooed. She looked up into
his face with her big baby blue eyes, leaned provocatively against his
new car, and touched his forearm flirtingly with her fingertips. The slut.
"Jenny," Beth whispered to me, "how are we going to see Hank and Chuck
again?"
I was trying to figure out that one too.
Jenny Wanshel <chilly2@biosys.net>
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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