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Subject: {ASSM} RP. The Camp Nurse 06 (Mf+, teen, satire)
Date: Mon, 7 Aug 2000 01:10:17 -0400
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THE USUAL WARNINGS:
This is a work of fiction by a twisted mind. If you
are offended by graphic descriptions of natural and/or
unnatural sexual acts, if you are underage, or if this
type of material is illegal where you are, don't read
any further.
This is a fantasy. You will have to loosen your clench
on reality a little when you read it. This is a tale in
which physical acts and human responses are not limited
to, nor necessarily based in, reality. Some acts and
responses in this story may be physically impossible
and/or physiologically improbable.
Also, as is the case with most of the stories in this
newsgroup, all the women in this story are beautiful -
gorgeous, even. Gravity has not caused breasts to
droop nor have wrinkles creased unblemished faces. The
men (the leading men, at least) are hung like bulls.
They can get it up and keep it up often and at will.
In this special little fantasyland, there are no STDs,
morals, or unwanted pregnancies. Guilt is a four-
letter word. Most important of all, neither strength
of character, courage of convictions, nor moral belief
stand a chance against any erotic stimulus. This can
be as benign as an accidental glimpse of a bared ankle
or as stimulating as a whipping on the genitals.
For those of you who didn't understand the preceding
statements, GO AWAY!
This story is intended for the salacious entertainment
of consenting adults. Do not try to do any of the
things described in this story. You could injure
yourself or your partner, be arrested, or shot by her
father....
If you are under 18 years of age, GO AWAY! This story
will burn your eyeballs and fry your brain.
If material of a strong sexual nature is prohibited
where you are, GO AWAY!
By continuing, the reader accepts all responsibility
for any disgust, revulsion, jail sentences, or pleasure
that results from reading this story. If you don't, GO
AWAY!
You have been warned!
If you enjoy this story and feel the urge to post it on
a <free> site, at least give me (NightShade) credit for
it.
So, stick your tongue firmly in your cheek and enjoy
the story!....:)
NightShade
The Camp Nurse
Chapter 6. Virgin Territory
by NightShade
first posted 3/97; revised 12/98
[The continuing adventures of Chris Mattson, RN at an
all-girls cheerleading camp high up in the mountains
out west. The only problem is that Chris is a male.
Let the fun continue.]
I was out for a long time. I don't remember any
visitors that night, but I do have a vague recollection
of a soft, warm body or two cuddling next to mine in my
bed. Come to think of it, I don't remember getting out
of the canoe and into the bed. I was, however, rousted
out of bed every 6 hours for Diane's `therapy'.
It seems that Diane's nipples re-inverted about every
six hours, and she needed to have sexual stimulation
reapplied to them or, more specifically, to her cunt.
Somehow the other girls, with a lot of helpful input
from Diane, decided that the best stimulation would be
in the form of a hard fuck. Now, normally I wouldn't
mind the horrible chore of having to boff a beautiful
woman four times a day, but there was a small, or
rather a large problem. My pecker was raw. Rubbed
raw.
It hadn't been noticeable when Diane and I had been
fucking for 12 to 18 hours straight, but apparently,
her cunt juice acted like a skin softener and
moisturizer. Maybe that's why that part of a woman is
always so soft and tender? Ever hear of chapped cunt
lips? Or a crunchy one? Neither have I. But after
having been marinated in that delectable sauce for that
long and having been that active, the outer layer of
skin of my prick had been debrided and that left the
subcutaneous nerve endings and blood vessels nearly
exposed. Kind of like jacking off with sandpaper, or
so I would imagine. I was never stupid enough to do
that. So when they woke me up and began licking and
sucking on my cock to get it ready for her therapy
session, I screamed in pain and fainted dead away.
My prick, however, single-minded as it is, performed
great, but it did it without my participation. Diane
had to do all the work that first time, not that she
minded. The rest of the staff thought I was sleeping
and they were kidding Diane that she had worn me out.
Mock congratulations were offered and there was much
more kidding as they declared her the unofficial best
fuck in camp. Some asked her what it was like to screw
a sleeping man, some commented - jokingly - that she
must be a lousy lay to have me fall asleep while she
was in the saddle. It wasn't until she had slipped off
my member that they saw the blood. At first they
thought it was hers, and checked her out thoroughly.
But there was no injury they could see and were about
ready to dismiss it when the staffer, Julie, I think,
who was cleaning me up, started yelling. A few of the
exposed surface vessels had burst. Nothing serious,
but you would have thought it was the end of the world.
Some of the girls started crying, one started screaming
hysterically. Only Julie and Janet kept their heads.
Julie kept cleaning me up and discovered the minor, but
messy, nature of the injury and stopped the bleeding,
while Janet cleared the room, swearing the weeping and
wailing women to secrecy and silence.
There was as much chance of that happening as having an
annual snow sculpture contest in Malibu Beach, CA.
Within seconds it seemed the entire camp was gathered
around the dispensary, holding vigil. I heard later it
was quite lovely. Someone got the candles from the
dining hall. A guitar strummed softly. A quiet All-
American girl hoe down. Soft singing muffled the
occasional sobs of the heart broken. Very touching.
All sarcasm aside, I was deeply moved when I heard
about it. However, during the event the only thing I
remember is having a dream about falling bombs, wild
birds whooping and an incredible sucking vagina on my
penis. Pretty much my usual dream stuff.
Janet wrapped my stiff swollen cock in an oil-rich
lotion to help replace the lipids leeched out by the
extended marinating. She and Julie, and eventually
some of the rest of the staff, took turns swabbing and
soaking my penis in the healing fluid. In order to
expose as much of the roughened skin to the balm as
possible, they felt I needed to be fully erect. So
they gently stroked the shaft with their soft
fingertips, gently luring it to its full swollen
length. What my amateur nurses didn't, and couldn't,
know was that those were the very exact motions I used
as an adolescent to train my cock to hold off for two
hours before spewing my wad, and to come back to
attention almost immediately. And in my exhausted
state, I must have reverted to that age, because every
two hours I blasted off. Like clockwork. Like Old
Faithful. It got to be a contest to see which of the
girls could catch my jism in her mouth. I love a girl
who really gets into her work.
And every six hours, Diane came in for her therapy.
The second time, at twelve hours, there was almost a
mutiny. But Janet sided with her and Diane agreed to
hump me only until her nipples popped back out. Which
was, for her, too soon. She didn't get to get off, but
then, neither did I. After she had reluctantly un-
impaled herself from my rampant member, several pairs
of hands and eyes and at least one tongue scrutinized
me with extreme care. There was no visible set back to
the healing process and peace was soon reestablished in
the camp.
Later, when I heard that Janet had been willing to
sacrifice the possible well-being of my precious penis
for the benefit of a couple of inverted nipples, I
nearly got angry. But only nearly, because at the time
she told me, she was performing an incredible sexual
act on me, and anger would not have been appropriate or
appreciated. By the time I got back around to thinking
of it again and bringing it up, she pulled that
frustrating female thing of looking at me with that
look that says, "We already discussed that. Don't drag
up old issues." Some day I'm going to figure out how
they do that.
Except for the visits by Diane and the constant
stroking by the endless volunteers at my bedside, I was
left in peace for the next 36 hours. Which left me
fairly horny. I mean, all that fore play and only one
fuck every six hours. I had been used to a lot more
and was ready and raring to go. The first ones to help
me out of my pent up state were the two campers who
just happened to be stroking my prick when I finally
felt strong enough to fuck somebody. Or some thing. I
really didn't care in the state I was in.
I leaned over to kiss one of them, pulling her on top
of me. She saw the gleam in my eye and squealed. A
recent alumnus of the speed stripping class, she was
nude and settled on my prick before her partner knew
what was going on. The partner tried to push the first
camper off her perch, kind of a Queen of the Mountain
game, until I slipped a finger up inside her shorts.
She kind of froze in her tracks and got a glazed look
in her eyes. She was slower getting naked, being one
of the younger campers, but soon her smooth naked pussy
lips were being caressed by my lips, my tongue
skewering her and giving her a song to sing.
The song was soon heard all over the camp and a cheer
went up. It was a cheerleader camp, after all. That
night and the two nights thereafter the visitors came
in as before. Although they did seem more eager, if
that were possible.
But there was still the problem of Diane and her
nipples. No matter what they tried, they couldn't get
them to stay out. I had had a lot of time to think
about it and thought I had a solution. I talked to the
arts and crafts instructor, and described to her the
design of what I had in mind. She fired up her furnace
and soon I had a pair of odd shaped pieces of jewelry.
Her workmanship had been outstanding and when I asked
her how much it would cost, she said "Two hours," with
a wicked twinkle. I gave her a big tip on top of the
payment. She deserved it.
When Diane came in for her `therapy', Janet was there,
as always. I think she was getting jealous of the
regularity with which I was fucking Diane.
"I think I have a way to keep your nipples out, Diane,"
I said. I showed her the jewelry. They looked like
two small wide funnels with no drain spouts. Just a
3/8" hole in the center with two small notches 180
degrees opposed to each other. I fit them up to her
tits, and they fit exactly over her areolas, leaving
the tiny buds of her nipples exposed.
She looked at me curiously.
"How's that supposed to keep them up?"
With a wicked grin, I held up the second half of the
puzzle. Even Janet gasped as she saw what I had in my
hand. Two barbell piercing studs. But both of them
agreed it would work. And I could smell the scent of
cunt juice filling the office. Someone was excited
about piercing Diane's nipples and it wasn't just me!
Of course, before we could pierce them, we had to
capture them out in the open, so I gallantly
volunteered to go in after them. I took a circuitous
route, probing with my prick as far up her cunt as I
could shove it, trying to flush them out. The attempt
was laborious, requiring several advances and retreats,
but it was not in vain. The two future shish-kabobs
poked up nicely and Janet was able to grab a hold of
them and gently pull them out. First she threaded the
stiffened nipple through the center hole of the small
funnel, and pressed it firmly, cupping the tip of
Diane's tit in the concave ring. Then she deftly
pierced each one and inserted the stud, sterilizing and
cleaning thoroughly as she went along. When she was
finished, it looked as if Diane was wearing tiny metal
pasties.
We waited for an hour and the cure seemed to have
worked. The studs rested in the notches of the
internal rim and held the nipples proudly out. The
only side effect we could determine was that Diane
seemed hornier than normal. She drooled from both
mouths, upper and lower, had a glazed look in her eye,
and had a mini-orgasm with every fourth or fifth step.
I silently took a bet with myself that Diane would soon
take up jogging, which she did that next summer.
Became world class, too, but had a hell of a time
getting through the metal detectors in the airports on
the way to the international meets.
With the problem of Diane solved and camp routine back
to normal, it was suddenly the last week of the
training for the campers. Sandi, the administrator's
assistant, came up to me after dinner on the first
night of the last week. A big grin split her face.
With the makeup and clothes she was now wearing, she
was getting to be one of the hottest women in camp.
She had really come out of her shell. The smile just
added to her natural appeal.
"So. Is the mighty Mr. Mattson ready for tonight?" she
asked seductively.
The way she said it, I understood she was referring to
my prick as the `mighty Mr. Mattson'. But I hadn't
heard a word about anything special going on. I
grinned back. "I'm always ready, Sandi, especially for
you."
She blushed. Bright red. She still wasn't used to her
new erotic persona. It made her even more appealing.
"N-N-No-o. N-N-Not me tonight," she sighed,
disappointedly. "You haven't heard?"
I shook my head in the negative.
"The next three nights are for the `new girls'."
I furrowed my brow. I had not heard the helicopter
bringing in any new girls. "New girls?" I asked.
Sandi blushed even deeper. She reached up and pulled
my head down so she could whisper in my ear. I could
also see right down her blouse at a set of cute firm
mounds of flesh and was going to reach up and touch the
erect nipple of one of them, but that thought actually
left my head as she whispered, "Yeah, `new girls'.
Virgins. Tonight the visitors will all be virgins.
New girls."
I nearly came right then. Three nights of virgin
territory. A pederast's wet-dream come true. I
noticed Sandi looking at me with a funny look and this
time it was my turn to blush. I didn't need to, but I
followed her gaze down and I saw my cock, which had
sprung up iron hard at the thought of all those
cherries. It had found its way out over the top of my
shorts, and spurted a great big glob of sperm onto the
bare flesh just above Sandi's tits.
"Why, Thank you, Mr. Mattson!" she teased me, wiping
the creamy white fluid off her chest with her fingers
and then licking them clean. "I'd say he was ready,
wouldn't you, Janet?"
I whirled around. I had not heard Janet walk up behind
me. She looked down and saw my exposure and watched
Sandi finish her special dessert. Gently, she took the
exposed part of my cock in her hands and covered it up
with them. She had to move her hands up and down
constantly to keep the whole thing covered completely
and conscientiously did her best to protect the campers
from seeing my exposure. "I asked you to keep this
under cover, Mr. Mattson," she said sternly. Her looks
and touch belied the tone of her voice. Her eyes were
dancing in the evening light, laughing at my obvious
excitement of the coming - or cumming - events of the
next three evenings. She was excited, too.
We separated when I could finally fit back into my
shorts. It took a while, because the fact that it was
Janet who was holding my prick in her tiny soft hands
was as arousing to me as the thought of all the cherry
picking. More, in fact. She didn't seem to be in any
rush, either, and kept up a patter of small talk about
this and that for quite a while. To this day, the only
things I can remember from that conversation are the
feel of her hands and the clear blue color of her eyes
as they gazed up into mine. For me, right then,
nothing else existed. She still teases me about it.
But I still react the same way whenever she holds me
like that gently stroking my cock with her two tiny
soft hands. It is absolutely Pavlovian.
Back in the dispensary that evening, time seemed to
drag by. I did the inventory in the clinic, bandaged a
few knees, wrapped a sprained ankle, and dried more
than a few tears from the `regulars'. A normal
evening. I tried to focus on each camper and task at
hand, but my mind was elsewhere. I was torn between
the thoughts of virgin twat and those beautiful clear
blue eyes. Both of those thoughts kept my cock hard
and stiff, and elicited more than a few knowing giggles
from my dispensary patients. Apparently, everyone in
camp had known but me. Figured.
The first timid knock came at the door after an
eternity of waiting.
"Come in," I said softly. I caught a brief silhouette
against the hall light as a pair of figures slipped
into my room.
"Hello, sailor," came a familiar voice, a bit huskier
than normal. The Skipper sounded as if she was already
excited about this. Maybe I wasn't the only one who
liked young girls...
"Hello, Skipper. You're early tonight." The other
figure giggled.
I felt her move close to my ear. "I just figured you
might like a witness that the girls were all here
voluntarily, you know?."
I grinned and whispered back, "Thanks. And this just
wouldn't happen to excite you, too, no?" A quick jab
in my ribs confirmed my suspicions.
She led the shy girl forward a little. "This is Kim,
Mr. Mattson. This is her first time." With that she
turned on a small light above my bed and melted into
the deep shadows. I tried, but I couldn't see her
face. Damn!
Kim stood shyly by herself at the edge of the pool of
light in a light blue baby-doll nightgown. She was
wearing the top only, no bottoms, I noticed right away.
She shifted uneasily from one foot to another, and
there was a gleam in her eye.
"Hello, Kim. Why don't you come over here and sit down
next to me." I held out my hand to her and she took
it. She followed my soft tugs and sat gingerly down
next to me, her bare tush right on the edge of the
mattress. Kim was one of the older girls. She must
have been 16 or 17 years old. I moved my arm and put
it around her back. She was trembling. I pulled her
gently to my side, and buried my face in her soft hair.
"Kim, are you sure you want this?" I asked her.
"Uh-huh," came the quiet reply.
"Well, if you want to stop at any time, all you have to
do is say so, OK?"
She nodded. I grinned.
"And you need to tell me things out loud, how you're
feeling, if you like something or don't like something,
or if I'm too heavy, or if it hurts you, right? Don't
worry about not using the right words. Between the
Skipper and I, we are pretty good at translating
screams and grunts and moans. Besides, it turns me on
when I can hear my lover's excitement. If I can't hear
what you're thinking or feeling, how will I know what
you like? So tell me, OK? Now, do you under...."
My question was stopped as she launched herself into my
arms, wrapping hers around my neck and shoving her
untalented, but enthusiastic young tongue all the way
down my throat. I took that to mean she understood.
With Kim in my arms, I began to explore the quivering,
eager young body plastered to my chest. She had smooth
skin, but then, they all had smooth skin. Her medium-
length hair that smelled so good was up off her neck in
a braid. I freed my mouth from hers and kissed the
exposed areas of her neck. I felt her shiver and her
arms tightened around my neck.
As I ventured further, I encountered a shoulder strap
with a bow on the top of each shoulder. The satiny
feel of her nightgown ended with a fancy ruffle just
above her firm ass as my hands continued down her back.
I got her to relax her strangle hold on my neck and
laid her softly back on the bed beside me. This
allowed me to explore her frontal areas. She was a
vision! I took a moment to drink in her youthful
beauty.
The nightgown was fastened by a single bow in front of
her smallish tits. Her dark pink nipples were clearly
visible through the material, and it was obvious she
was excited. Or very cold in the middle of July. She
caught at my hand as I tugged at the bow, indicating a
slight hesitation on her part.
"Should I stop?" I asked softly.
"No. Please don't stop. I, uh, I'm just a little
scared."
I held her hand to the tiny bow and she held it lightly
between her fingers. She looked at me with her big
brown eyes. I could see the indecision and the lust.
I blew gently across those turgid nipples poking though
the thin fabric. First one, then the other received my
airy attentions. That was all it took. Together, we
pulled the end of the bow, and she pushed up her
swelling tits in invitation.
As I pulled the inadequate covering away from her chest
with a firm tug, I leaned down and kissed her deeply.
I cupped and squeezed her firm rubbery tits until I
felt her relax even more. She began moaning into my
mouth. I rearranged myself along side of her on the
bed. She gave a small catch of her breath as she felt
my heavy swollen cock flop down across her leg.
"I-Is that your thing?"
"My what?"
"Your thing. You know, your penis?"
"Yes, and that's my cock, my pecker, my prick, my John
Henry, the Mighty Mr. Mattson, among other names. No
one calls it a penis but my doctor."
"Oh." She giggled at the variety of names, especially
the last one.
I held still. Well, kind of. I had her tit in my hand
and I kept kneading it gently, but firmly. Her little
tits were firm and hard, and very sensitive, it seemed.
I felt it swelling up in my hand as her arousal grew.
I waited for her to make the next move.
It took a minute or three, but gradually the burning
spot of contact on her thigh captured her curiosity and
her hand slipped shyly down and touched my now hardened
prick. She had her eyes tightly closed as she gently
explored it and, as she tried to reach her hand around
it, I felt her catch her breath again.
"Does it really fit in me?"
"Perfectly, Kim. It will fit perfectly."
I lowered my lips to her chest and sucked in the
lonesome nipple that was poking up at me, pleading for
attention. A long slow shudder passed through her body
and she grasped me a bit tighter and began stroking up
and down. A natural rhythm. I sucked and she stroked.
The excitement in her body grew. I felt her nipples
harden even more, one against my palm, the other in my
mouth.
I switched teats. This brought another groan,
especially as the air chilled her moistened flesh. My
hand, now freed from its tit duty, ventured down her
flat stomach. I trailed my fingers across the smooth
surface, tracing erotic patterns in the tiny hairs,
dipping occasionally into the depression of her navel.
She was humming unconsciously, and it was a tune I
loved to hear.
I followed my fingertips with my tongue and began to
bathe her tummy with my saliva. The cooling of the
moisture brought goose bumps to her skin, roughening
the texture.
My free hand again ventured lower, this time to her
secret places. Her humming went up a note or two in
pitch and urgency and her breathing was a bit ragged
now. Her stoking hand became irregular in its up and
down motion and finally she abandoned altogether her
grip on my prick for one on the mattress as my
fingertips brushed across her clit. She stiffened and
cried out as a small taste of the orgasmic events to
come coursed through her slender frame.
"Oh! Thank you, Mr. Mattson," she sighed.
I looked up at her now open eyes, tiny tears leaking
from the corners of them. "Are you finished? Should I
stop?" I asked her.
"Huh? You mean I can I have more than one? Oh, I
didn't know. It felt so good. I don't want you to
stop. Yes, please go....OH! OH! OH!"
My finger on her clit rudely interrupted her, this time
with a bit more pressure. I grinned to myself at her
innocence. And got back to work. I figured it would
take about one more new experience for her innocent
pussy, and she would not refuse me her virginity, no
matter how big she thought my pecker was. I knew just
what that experience should be. I lowered my face to
her smooth hairless pussy lips and breathed deep. She
smelled fresh and young, but with a distinctive
fragrance of musk. I love that `ready to fuck' scent a
young girl gives off.
Her eyes were closed tight again after her last mini-
climax, and she was not aware of my intentions until
she felt my tongue begin to wiggle its way past her
cunt lips and up into her pussy. At first her hands
flailed vainly as if to push my head away and she
protested quietly, saying that she was dirty down
there, etc. Then the feelings from her awakening cunt
shorted out all reason. Her knees automatically
snapped up to her tits, opening herself up to my
tongue, my fingers and, eventually, my cock.
Her cunt was mine.
I built up her tension level by eating her delicious
cunt for quite a while, never quite letting her go over
that edge she teetered on. By the time I was done with
her pussy, she was delirious with passion, far past any
point of return. Her writhing young body was wound
like a spring, waiting for that big event that it knew
was coming, even if she didn't. Each near-climax
pushed her a little higher and left her wanting, and
taking, just a little more. She was throwing her head
back and forth on my pillow, gripping the sheets with
her hands. Her hair had become unbraided from her
orgasmic thrashing and it fell softly around her
shoulders. She looked beautiful. Delicious.
Fuckable. I judged she was ready.
I knelt up between her legs. She sensed my movement
and opened her eyes. She had a look of desperation in
them.
"Please. Please, do me. Please. Don't tease me any
more. Do me. Now! Please? Fuck me, Mr. Mattson."
What can I say? When they ask me so nice, I can't say
`No", can I?
I did her.
The fat tip of my cock lodged up against her tight, wet
pussy lips. I let it rest there impatiently while the
lubrication leaking from her pussy coated it. A gentle
nudge opened the sealed portal and the head of my cock
forged into the tight canal. Her eyes opened wide as
she felt her vaginal tissues staining to adapt to the
monster invading her pussy. But she did not tell me to
stop. I honestly doubt if I could have at that point.
Another small nudge pushed me in far enough to allow
the lips of her cunt to close around the rim of my
cockhead. Again I stopped for a moment to let her
adjust. It also allowed the barrier membrane a little
further up her canal to begin to tear loose a bit
because of the stretching. Another gentle nudge
forward, and the tip of my cock was resting against her
now dangerously thin hymen. I waited patiently for her
to get comfortable, and as I waited I felt the membrane
give way, not with a rip, but with a contented sigh.
She arched her back with a small gasp and then slowly
but determinedly slid herself down on my cock, easily
accepting about three-quarters of it inside her. She
had felt no pain. She was now a woman. And she wanted
to fuck.
I placed my hand down between us and grabbed onto the
base of my cock. I didn't want to go too deep into her
this first time. I liked using my hand that way,
especially with first-timers. With my hand right
there, I could also use my thumb to rub her clitoris,
keeping her in a mindless fucking state for the
duration of our coupling.
When she realized I was deep into her, she went wild.
I never moved from my knees, never had to jerk or
thrust. Some of her moves were a bit unexpected and
unusual as this was her first experience, but it was my
opinion that Kim was a natural born wild woman. Most
of the time, the only parts of her anatomy not in
motion were her neck and shoulders and they were the
only things touching the bed. Everything else was a
tornado of action, whipping her cunt up and down on my
cock. She started screaming as she hit the big one,
but she didn't stop moving. My thumb wouldn't let her.
I kept up a constant circling motion right on her
sensitive nubbin. Her wild actions increased, if
anything, and she went over the top again, this time
fainting dead away with a sharp piercing scream. Her
body refused to obey her mind, however, and her cunt
muscles kept a firm, almost painful grip on my cock.
She slowly came back around and hugged me tightly
around my neck, her lithe body wracked with sobs.
"That was wonderful. I didn't think I could get it all
in me," she sobbed into my ear. "I feel so good. God,
is my boyfriend going to be surprised when I get him
into the back seat next Saturday night."
I hated to tell her she hadn't taken in the whole
thing. I had never met a girl or a woman who could on
their first time. I'm just too big. But when I told
her I didn't go all the way in, she didn't seem to
mind. In fact, she seemed more determined to take it
all the next time. Whenever that would be.
She left with a wet kiss and a sexy, "Thank you, Mr.
Mattson." I was already looking forward to her next
visit. The last three inches always surprised them,
and I loved the look on their faces as they stuffed
themselves like gluttons at a buffet. Pure ecstasy.
The light flicked out, and I was lost in the sudden
darkness.
"God, sailor, I wish you had been my first. I think
you may have spoiled her for life." The Skipper
slipped down onto the bed beside me, finding her way in
the dark by soft gentle touches.
"Would you rather I didn't do a good job?"
"Oh, no! But she is going to compare the next couple
of lovers she has to you, and, unless their name
happens to be Clark Kent, they won't be equipped like
you. I just hope her boyfriend doesn't disappoint her
too much. You're almost too good, sailor."
"Hey, I'm just an average guy doing the best I can."
A tinkling laugh and sharp jab in the stomach
registered her disbelief of that statement. "You're
far from average, sailor," she said softly, almost to
herself. Then, with a short shake of her head, as if
dragging herself back to reality from a very pleasant
place, she got up off the bed and headed for the
bathroom. She brought back a wet rag and a towel to
dry with.
"Here. Clean up. It's nicer for the new girls if
you're clean for them. They're nervous enough without
having you smell like the previous girl."
I grinned. "Yeah. We'll just have until the next time
to really pervert them, huh?" Her soft laughter filled
my heart again, and a silent bond built between us. We
would always share a passion for the young ones.
Together.
I began to clean up, getting ready for the next one. I
sensed her waiting, tapping her foot unconsciously as
she stood there in the dark. "What's the hurry,
Skipper? Is there a rush? Just how many new girls are
there?"
"If you do them all like Kim, you'll almost make it.
There are six new girls."
"Oh, OK. That should be easy. Two tonight, two
tomorrow and two the next night, right? We should be
able to make them all enjoy the experience and have
time to spare!"
"Wrong, sailor. That's six tonight, six tomorrow night
and six the next night. And I'm going to get mine each
night, too, you little girl fucker, you. I'm so horny
right now I can hardly keep from jumping on your fat
cock."
I shook my head in disbelief. Eighteen. Eighteen
virgins. I didn't think there were that many cherries
over the age of 12 years old in the whole of
California, much less just the LA area. It was even
more mind boggling that they were all good looking
ones, too. Well, there would be 18 fewer intact hymens
by the time camp was over.
Grinning, I reached out and found the Skipper. Her
tense body was covered in a light shirt. I ripped it
off her smooth shoulder in a single jerk, tearing it
right down the back. I proceeded to take just about
every obscene liberty with her I could think of without
penetration. Skipper just stood there and let me,
teasingly helping me, taunting, encouraging me, urging
me to violate her any way I wanted to. So I did. By
the time I was done, we were both gasping for breath.
Finally, I pulled her to me and I kissed her hard and
viciously. I was getting sick and tired of this
fucking cat and mouse game.
She melted into my arms, her resistance gone. I felt
tears running down between us as she gave herself
totally to me. She had always kept something back
before. But now, she was all mine. I could have done
anything to her at that moment, including turning on
the light above my bed and establishing her identity.
I knew it. She knew it. She knew I knew it.
But I didn't do it. To this day I don't know why. I
gently sat her tight naked butt on my knee, pulled my
fingers out of her cunt and asshole, brushed the hair
away from her sweaty face with my lips and tenderly
licked the tears trickling from her eyes.
"You better see who's next, Skipper," I told her. "You
know I can't fuck you if it gets too light in here."
She gave a small sob. "And Skipper, I need to fuck
you. Bad!"
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
End of chapter
I hope you enjoyed it. :)
All my published works are archived and can be read or
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