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From: max_wojtylak@yahoo.com (theGreatxIam)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 21 Jun 2002 23:46:46 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Scout's Honor Ch. 7 (Mf)
Date: Sat, 22 Jun 2002 17:10:04 -0400
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NOTE: I hereby grant permission for all archiving and other uses of
this work, public or private, free or paid, in any format whether
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this note and credit to "theGreatxIam" is given and no alteration is
made to the body of the work. Copyright 2002, theGreatxIam

Scout's Honor
Chapter 7 (of 10)
By theGreatxIam

THE STORY SO FAR: A childless couple devotes themselves to a Girl
Scout troop. The wife dies in childbirth; the surviving child dies
soon after. The husband goes into a funk, relieved only when the
couple's old troop asks him to drive the bus for its last camping
trip. But the trip takes a surprising turn when the scouts seduce him
into a weekend of sex. After a particularly energetic session midway
through the second day, he took a long nap.

--- --- ---

The potent sleeping pill that is sex -- for a guy, at least -- sent me
straight into dreamland once we reached the tent. I was awakened after
a couple of hours by an argument right outside -- sounded like Sami
and Claire bickering over some guy, Sami saying Claire was lying about
him. I woke up in the middle of it, though, so I couldn't understand
it all, and after a while they moved off and I went back to my nap.

I slept until dinnertime, and I complained to Traci when I found her
at the campfire that the girls should have gotten me up sooner: "How
am I going to sleep tonight now?"

But Traci said that wouldn't be a problem. It was a non-answer answer,
which of course made me suspicious. But a thick steak and fried
potatoes crowded out my questions.

After dinner everyone gathered around the fire and we sang and told
stories about the old days of the troop. I could see several girls
watching me to see if I'd crack, but I really had come to grips with
the past. And this was probably -- no, almost certainly -- going to be
our last gathering. I was driving them all back the next afternoon.
There was no more troop. Everyone would go off to their own lives. A
melancholy hung over all of us, but it was mixed with an appreciation
for times gone by.

It sounds a little weird, even to me, and I was there. The atmosphere
was something like a Roman orgy crossed with the after-prom party
senior year. Well, I grant you, for some kids there isn't much of a
distinction. What I mean is, here we were, feeling sentimental,
reminiscing in the most innocent way. Yet as I looked around I saw all
these young women I'd just been intimate with. Who, in fact, had
deliberately come on a mission to screw me. Maybe -- maybe it was like
a sexual "Seven Samurai," a diverse group riding in to save something.

Oh, geez, I'm really going off the deep end. What can I say? That's
what even thinking about that last night does. Imagine what it must
have felt like to be there.

Imagine looking through the flickering flames and seeing Carrie and
Terry. Seeing them as two wanton sexpots, but also as a pair of bright
college students. Seeing them also, as the wavering flames play games
with your eyes, as the adorable twins who told you they'd make it easy
for you to tell them apart because one would wear an earring only in
her left ear and one only in her right. Who called you a silly old man
when you couldn't remember which name went with which ear, so you just
called them Righty and Lefty.

There next to them, there's Claire. Silent Claire, always in someone's
shadow. What was the future for her? There had been flashes of talent
all along; she was the one entrusted with the sketching or painting
any time a project involved art. Her smile had vanished tonight, but
that seemed to have something to do with the tiff between her and her
sister. That was nothing; surely Claire was on her way to an
independent, fulfilling life.

And Sami, sitting cross-legged just to my right? She looked thoughtful
that night, but you could still see in her the boisterous girl who did
everything on a run, the one whose only speeds were fast and faster.
Just being around her was an adrenaline jolt. It was hard to think
about missing that.

On the other side was Traci. Who seemed to be making the transition
from teen to adult that very weekend. Traci the loyal, who argued with
her own mom about letting Jean run the troop. Traci the compassionate,
staying by my side at the wake, gently moving the other scouts past me
one at a time. Traci the romantic, bringing a tape of every royal
wedding to the troop sleepovers, upset when the others voted to watch
"Halloween" instead.

Next to Traci sat Tishana and Sereka. Even in jeans and T-shirts they
looked elegant. Yet I also saw the young teens who haughtily said they
believed they would refrain from painting signs for the rummage sale
because they did not wish to risk their designer clothes -- but ended
up chasing each other around the hall, flicking purple and pink paint
so freely they looked like they had rare cases of pastel measles.

Further around the circle, the Sues were on their knees, toasting
marshmallows. Of course they were; that's what Girl Scouts do and you
could always count on the Sues to be exactly in character. But their
cheerleader bubbliness took second place to other qualities. They were
the first to notice when anyone else was having a bad day. Earlier
that evening I'd seen them hovering around Claire.

But by then Sri had taken over trying to cheer up Claire. Sri, who was
either a 30-year-old woman with a fountain of youth in her backyard or
the sexiest 16-year-old I'd ever seen. But also Sri who had never seen
a cartoon until she joined the troop and lost several bets with the
other girls before I intervened and told her the coyote never, ever
won.

And, of course, there was Lana, retired from her life's work at 16,
having spent the last two years being told she was too fat for a
skater, too slow for a skater -- and, after those messages had sunk
in, too depressed for a skater. I worried about her, but I knew there
was a fun-loving girl inside who'd been the first to raise her hand
when we needed volunteers for any chore, who'd blossomed, with praise,
into the best cook in the troop and the obvious choice any time
someone had to be treasurer. "But of course I'm good with numbers,"
she'd say. "After all, I am a figure skater."

Yes, it is a horrible pun. That, I'm afraid, is something Jean taught
them.

Well, before I get completely maudlin, let me just say that it was a
very touching time around the fire that night. As darkness crept in
and swallowed the fire's glow, the girls slipped away in small groups,
talking quietly, until only Traci was left. We sat together awhile,
staring into the flames, not saying anything. Finally I said I was
ready for bed. Traci said good night and told me she'd stay to tend
the fire a bit longer.

I was surprised that I wasn't being tackled by any sex-hungry scouts.
But I took it well; it had been a hell of a weekend.

My tent was around a stand of trees from the campfire, so I didn't see
the glow until I turned the corner.

The walls of the tent were alive with flickering shapes. As I got
closer, I could make out Terry and Carrie standing outside. They
nodded silently as I got to the tent, but barred my way. Tishana and
Sereka appeared out of the night on either side of me. Quickly and
quietly they removed my clothes and disappeared again into the night.
While that was going on, the Sues had come up behind me with a basin
of warm water. They washed me down with a big, soft sponge and lots of
suds, then rinsed me off and dried me with a giant fluffy towel.

Sri and Sami were next. They each had a small bottle from which they
poured a thick, clear fluid into their palms. They put the bottles
down, rubbed their hands together, and gave me a sensuous massage with
an oil that had hints of sandalwood. They didn't miss a spot, and I
was once again boasting an erection when they left me.

When Sri and Sami had finished, they vanished into the darkness. I
stood there, naked, oiled. And baffled. Carrie and Terry didn't answer
any of my questions. They just stood there, blocking access to the
tent flap.

So quietly that I didn't hear anything until she was right behind me,
Traci arrived. She nodded once and the twins stepped to either side of
the tent. "This is your last night with us," Traci whispered, "and we
wanted it to be special. Here, this time you'll need this."

She placed a crinkly square of foil in my hand and pulled aside the
tent flap. With a sweep of her arm, she ushered me inside, closing the
flap as I ducked into the tent.

The flickering inside was dozens of votive candles tucked in spots
throughout the tent. By their light I saw a naked body stretched out
on the cot.

It was Baby.

Baby -- Michelle -- wasn't called that just because she was the
youngest at 15. She still had a baby's softness to the features of her
round face. And her body, though quite definitely a grown woman's,
still bore a fading hint of plumpness. Its curves were emphasized then
by the oil on her skin, glistening in the candlelight.

She looked at me, long lashes fluttering, and parted her legs.

I got to my knees alongside the cot, being careful not to knock over
any candles, and bent my head to hers. At first her lips quivered like
Jello, and when I opened my eyes I saw hers wide, staring at me. I
gently put my hands on her shoulders; they were covered with
goosepimples. As I softly stroked her skin, though, she seemed to
settle down, and responded with more and more ardor to my kisses.

Even then, though her lips responded, the rest of her body was as
immobile as a statue. I extend my soft stroking farther and farther
down her arms until I reached her hands. They were cold. Breaking off
our kissing, I lifted first one of her hands, then the other to my
lips. I kissed this palm, then that. Cupping each in turn in my hands,
Baby's so small against mine, I held them to my chest to warm them,
rubbing them in small circles over my flesh. Finally I brought them to
my mouth again. That time I kissed each finger, up and down. When I
would reach the tip I'd suck the finger into my mouth, all the way,
and slowly, slowly slide it out.

When I was done, Baby's hands were a normal temperature again, and as
I bent down to kiss her, Baby's arms curled around my neck.

Her kisses were more urgent, her plump, soft lips meeting mine
eagerly. But still she hadn't opened her mouth to me, not till I
probed with my tongue from one corner of her smile to the other. Then,
at last, her mouth blossomed and my tongue entered. I heard a sharp
intake of breath then, but in the heat of the moment I had no thought
for its significance. All my concentration was on the delightful
sensations of what had become one long, passionate kiss.

I allowed my hands to stray from Baby's shoulders. They discovered her
ripe breasts, jiggly mounds whose thick nipples sprang to life under
my thumbs. They were such a delight that my lips grew jealous of my
hands. I kissed my way down to her tits and suckled them, rolling the
nipples around in my mouth, letting my tongue trace their form.

"Oh," Baby sighed, "that feels so good! Mmm, I love it when you do
that!"

That was all the encouragement I needed. Carefully I crawled onto the
cot, on top of Baby's naked glory. My hard cock slithered along her
thigh as I returned to kissing and sucking her breasts.

Ah, they were magnificent. I even buried my face between them,
squeezing her tits to my cheeks. And though I wanted to wait, I
couldn't resist. I crawled up her body and slid my cock between those
beautiful boobs. I took Baby's hands and showed her how I wanted her
to press her breasts together, forming a tight tunnel. Even as she was
getting the hang of it I was already stroking my dick on her chest. As
her tits squeezed my cock it only made the feeling better and better.

My legs tight to Baby's body, I enthusiastically drilled between her
breasts. Faster and faster my cock pistoned. Finally, with an exultant
roar, I blasted a spray of milky cum that splattered her neck and
dribbled down her chest.

Baby looked quite surprised, and I felt a little guilty for having so
quickly satisfied my own urges while neglecting her desires. When the
last of my jism had spilled out, I crawled back down her body and
again put my lips to those delectable tits. This time I forced myself
to abandon them in time, kissing and licking down her torso, enjoying
the slight raspberry flavor of the oil she was anointed with.

Baby was quiet, and when I reached her slit I had to gently pry her
legs far enough apart to get my tongue to her clit. But as soon as I
did, her legs fell apart and I was able to lap at her easily. I
concentrated on the clit, though, tickling and teasing it, using her
sighs and whispers as clues to the best approach.

It was a successful strategy. In just a few minutes, without even
having to put so much as a finger into her, I felt Baby's muscles
stiffen. In short order she was shrieking through an orgasm  as if
she'd never had one before, a grand cascade.

"Ohmigosh," she said, in a rush, tumbling out of her in a torrent.
"Ohmigosh-ohmigosh-ohmigossssh!"

I would have let her lie back and enjoy it for awhile, but my cock had
other ideas. I scrambled up her body and positioned myself for entry.
My thick cock head rode across Baby's wet slit. This was going to be
great, I thought. I pulled back ...

"Wait!" Baby wailed.

"What? What? What is it?"

"Th-the condom! You gotta use the condom." Her eyes were as big as the
moon. "You just gotta!"

"All right, yes, OK. But where? Oh, yeah, they gave me one -- " I
stared at my empty palm. "Where'd it go? I had it here." I looked on
either side of Baby, as much as I could see. Nothing. I felt along her
waist and slid my fingers underneath as far as I could. Nothing,
except I discovered a ticklish spot by her butt and almost got bounced
off the bed.

"Sorry," Baby said.

"No harm," I said, "I'm fine."

"No, I m-mean, sorry about the condom. If you w-want ..."

"We'll find it. You aren't on the Pill, then?"

"What? Oh, no."

I climbed off of her and examined the cot again. "Could you roll over?
And back this way?"

Still nothing. I glanced down at the floor. Flickering shadows danced
around my toes. Taking a deep breath, I got to my knees and put my
head to the ground. I saw a glint -- no, it was candlelight reflecting
off a glass holder. I edged around the tent.

I had to squint to be sure, but there was something next to one leg of
the cot. I reached -- it was a stretch, but my fingertips just made
contact. I scrabbled with my fingers, drawing it closer, closer -- got
it!

"I'll help look," Baby announced as, just then, she tumbled out of the
cot. Her foot came down on my ankle. She slipped. I fell flat. The
condom package ... My hand tapped around, couldn't find it. I looked
up. Saw the foil pack balanced on the rim of a votive candle holder.
Lunged. Bounced off of Baby, who was trying to get to her feet.
Reached again. Felt it begin to tip away. Flipped it up with a finger,
snatched it out of midair, feeling the candle flame singe the sparse
hair on the back of my fingers.

"Youch!" I jerked back my hand, flinging the condom into the air. I
lost it in the flicker of the candles. I only caught sight of it again
as it fell straight toward another candle. I stabbed wildly, grasped
nothing but air. Saw it plunge toward the flame. Blew noisily in
disgust -- and blew out the candle just before the condom landed.

I fished it out of the hot wax quickly and ripped open the foil pack.
The rubbery blue circle inside appeared intact.

My cock was still erect -- suspiciously so; I wondered how safe it was
to have multiple Viagra. Ah, well, I thought, if you're going to go,
what better way? I was about to roll the rubber on when Baby grabbed
it from my hand. "Let me," she said.

We both sat cross-legged, facing each other, my dick wagging in the
air. Baby placed the rubber atop my cock and pulled down with her
hands. Nothing happened. She tried again, tongue peeking out between
her lips. The condom didn't budge, but she almost shoved my cock back
into my balls.

I tried to take the condom from her. She swatted it away. "No," she
sniffed, "let me. I can do it."

As she lined up again I saw the problem. "Baby," I started to say.

"Don't say anything," she said, her voice raising an octave. "I can do
it myself."

"But, Baby ..."

"Just let me do it!"

"OK!" I held my hands up. "But you've got it upside down."

She stopped and stared. She flipped over the rubbery ring and
awkwardly unrolled it over my cock.

And then she burst into tears.

I held her trembling, naked body to mine, stroking her back as she
sobbed. "Come on, it's OK," I whispered. "It was nothing."

"But ... But ..." She blubbered, tears streaming down her face. "But I
w-wanted it to be all perfect. Just like Traci and the others s-said.
P-perfect."

"Sweetie, sweetie." I hugged her tight. "It doesn't have to be
perfect. Not -- not from start to finish, I mean. Everybody does
something silly once in awhile. That doesn't mean you and I can't have
something wonderful together."

"It doesn't? We still can? You still want to?"

"Sure -- Baby, hasn't something ever gone a little wrong while you
were, uh, having sex? That didn't ..."

"I never ..."

"You've never had something go wrong?"

She looked up at my, doe eyes glistening. "I've never had sex. This is
my first time."

A large, heavy weight softly settled upon my shoulders. I blinked and
looked down at her. "Baby -- Michelle -- you're a virgin?"

She lowered her eyes, nodded. "Unless what we just did ..." The words
trailed off.

"No. I mean -- I think -- I don't know what I think. Michelle, you
never ... never?"

Her words stumbled over one another like marbles bouncing down a
staircase. The other scouts, she said, were so excited about what they
were going to do for me. And they'd said she was too young, but she'd
insisted, and then they had accepted her, so she could be a special
present for me, and -- finally she had to take a breath.

"Michelle," I said, tilting her chin up so she was looking me in the
eye, "do you really want to do this? Or do you just not want to be the
baby anymore?"

She stared at me in silence for half a minute, then burst into tears
again and ran from the tent.

I sat where I was for awhile. Not actually thinking about anything;
just stewing. Then I got to my knees and began to snuff out the
candles, one by one.

I was halfway through when the tent flap rustled. I turned to see
Traci step in. She stood just inside, arms crossed, looking cross. I
tried to return the look, but I was hampered by the fact that she was
dressed while I was completely naked with my cock enrobed in a blue
condom. It's hard to look severe with a big blue weinie waving in your
lap.

"Well," Traci said at last, "what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Me? I'm not the one who pressured Baby into losing her virginity when
she didn't want to."

"Then you did ..."

"No. I mean, I didn't ... do it. Not the Big It, anyway. But don't
change the subject."

Traci rolled her eyes. "What WAS the subject?"

"That the rest of you pushed her into having sex."

"It didn't take much pushing. We didn't bend her arm or anything."

"No. But you should have been more careful. Look at what you've done.
She ran out of here crying!"

"That isn't our fault. You were here. What did you say to her? I
couldn't get much out of her, she was so upset. What did you tell
her?"

"Nothing. She's upset because she didn't want to be here in the first
place. The rest of you may be s-- ah, experienced, but you shouldn't
assume she is."

"I still don't believe it. Everyone agreed to this. And everyone was
happy about it -- until now." Traci was frowning like a schoolmarm who
just caught three boys with frogs in their pants. She looked so cute I
almost laughed, but I do not like being scolded. Never have.

"Everyone happy?" I paused. "Claire seems upset about something."

"She and Sami are -- well, whatever. I'm sure it's not about this.
Unless you said something to her, too?"

She said it sharply, but with a bit of a twinkle in her eye that took
away the sting. It was exactly the kind of serious-but-not-serious
fight that Jean and I sometimes had. Which is why, after staring at
Traci for a moment, I turned away and went back to snuffing candles.

She evidently misinterpreted that -- how could she not, unless she was
a mind reader? She tugged at my shoulder, apologizing, saying she was
only teasing. I was still holding back, so I could only hold her
stiffly -- which only convinced her more that I was angry or hurt or
both. She clung to me, mumbling apologies into my neck.

I was still naked, of course, and in time the inevitable happened. It
started with me kissing Traci's forehead and stroking her hair.
Somehow it ended up with us on the cot together, candles all
extinguished, Traci's nude body molded to mine.

"You won't need this," she whispered, pulling off the condom. "Not
with me."

We made love like -- Have you ever heard the Righteous Brothers sing?
Harmonies so right that the words sparkle like diamonds? We made love
like that. Nothing fancy, nothing bizarre. We didn't invent any new
positions. Just two bodies in perfect communication.

There were times I lost track of which one of us was on top, which on
the bottom. We were one.

At first it was scary. We were so attuned, mouths seeking each other
out at exactly the same time, breaking the kiss at once. Bodies giving
and taking in matched strokes. It was scary because it was so perfect.
I was afraid, at least. Afraid to break the spell. Straining for the
signals, trying to figure out the rhythm driving us. Wanting to keep
in step.

But finally I gave in to the emotions alone. Understood, accepted that
there were no signals. There was just us, and we had something rare
and beautiful.

I have no words for the way it felt to be inside her -- or is it that
I have too many? It was as if we were a perfect fit, snug as possible.
It was as if we had been a single substance, torn asunder but now
repaired. And it was more than all of that.

Traci's legs and arms clung to me so tightly that I scarcely could
move inside her. That seemed just as it should be, almost no motion,
just enough to remind us we were joined. That made our mating last on
and on.

I don't know how long it was. Time had no meaning. But at some point,
late into the night, we loosened our bond. Began to stroke longer and
longer. There was nothing mechanical about it, though. Each move was
fully felt.

My entire body was aflame. The merest brush of her hand on my back
made my skin crackle with electricity. And the feeling of entering her
again and again -- it was so intense I thought I'd pass out.

We called to each other, names forming mantras of eroticism. Invoked
deities, cried to heaven. And stroked.

The strokes grew harder, deeper, more passionate. I gave Traci a last,
long kiss and then had to turn my head away, gasping for breath.
Harder, deeper, my balls slapping into her. Harder, deeper, feeling
myself swell within her. Harder, deeper, until the release, a moment's
notice and a surge, pumping into her over and over. Traci reaching her
own summit, forgetting me, lost in her passion. Both of us floating on
our orgasms, surfing the waves, finally washing ashore.

We fell asleep curled together.

In the morning, Traci was still there. I brushed the hair from her
face and kissed her softly.

She blinked, opened her eyes. Smiled, and the sun rose.

"Good morning," I said.

"Same to you." She stretched like a Siamese. "Mmm. So. I take it you
aren't completely opposed to the idea of this camping trip?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, last night you seemed pretty upset about us getting together a
group seduction. But then you got over it."

"Traci, I'll probably burn for saying this, but I have no problem
with, ah, willing partners. I just didn't think Michelle was as
gung-ho as the rest of you."

"As the rest of us gung hoes?"

I pinched her. She deserved it.

Traci got out of bed, rubbing the spot. "Well, anyway, I'm glad you're
still OK with this. Though I don't know if you deserve it all." She
grinned. "Yeah, you do. Good thing. I'd hate to have to skip the big
finish."

To be continued ...

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