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Summer Camp: All chapters in one

12/8/2011

Summer Camp


It was all Sarah could do to hoist her heavy suitcase onto
the bed. She searched the room, scouting for places to store
things. There were two dressers and one small closet—not
much put-away space considering she’d have to share
the room with another camp counselor. Since her roommate
had yet to arrive, she claimed the larger dresser and began
stowing her gear.


The church that sponsored this kids’ summer camp required
that all its counselors have high school diplomas. Having
graduated just last month, this was her first stint. It
was also the first time she’d ever been out from under
parental supervision—her primary reason for having
chosen this summer job. She’d heard disturbing tales
of the camp from older girls, but refused to believe that
good Christian girls could behave so. Irrespective of
the truth of those rumors, she knew she’d behave, regardless
what the others might do.


After unpacking she wandered the camp, using her orientation
pamphlet as a guide. After locating the cabin where her
sixth-grade girls would house, she wandered to the main
hall for counselor orientation. Since the camp was open
to both boys and girls, half of the counselors would be guys.
She hoped some were cute.


She wasn’t disappointed. An hour later all dozen counselors
were roasting hotdogs, getting to know one another, including
her cabinmate, Jan. The two hit it off right off the bat,
likely because Jan was as interested in the guys as she was.
“Hmm, look at that one, ” Jan said, pointing to a scrumptious
looking dark-haired guy. He’d just unloaded a load of
kitchen supplies. Perspiring profusely, he’d taken
off his shirt. “How’d you like to lick the sweat off
those abs?”


“Jan! This is a church camp.”


Jan looked at her. “Duh! That hardly turns us back into
virgins.”


So Jan wasn’t a virgin. Sarah wondered if she’d be mocked
if she confessed that she was.


Seeing Sarah’s odd look, Jan broke out laughing. “You’re
kidding! You’re not still a virgin, aren’t you?”



Sarah flushed. But why, what was wrong with being the proverbial
good girl. “I just think a girl should save herself for
her wedding night. Is that so bad?”


Jan laughed. “Different strokes for different folks,
I guess. Suit yourself, ” Jan practically drooled as
she took in the other male counselors, “but with this
many cute guys all to ourselves for three months, I plan
to get down.” She giggled. “And undoubtedly ‘go’
down a time or two, too. Hopefully, I’ll find someone
to reciprocate.”


Hearing Jan’s blunt proclamation, Sarah flushed again.
Fearing ridicule, she looked away. Her friends at home
never talked like this. Although embarrassing to listen
to, it nonetheless made her heart race and wonder exactly
what it was she was missing out on. And Jan was right—all
the guys were hunky.


Chuck, the guy Jan had first drooled over, was the cutest
of the bunch. So cute, in fact, that Sarah made a point of
sitting by him during dinner. He was friendly and confident.
Judging by the way he kept stealing looks down her halter
top, perhaps a bit too confident. Despite the discomfort
it caused her, each stolen glance made Sarah’s tummy
tingle, along with a couple other places she dared not think
about. She was pretty sure Chuck and Jan would be quick to
hook up. Strangely, that thought bothered her.


Over the course of that first week she got to know the remaining
counselors, and many of the students, too—even those
in other cabins. She stayed busy. Busy enough to not feel
homesick—something she’d feared. The busy schedule
kept her mind off of the guys, too, at least until the Friday
Feast.


The Feast was the traditional way the counselors celebrated
the end of week one at camp. The kids were sent home those
first two weekends, an effort to ease them into being away
from home. That left the counselors unchaperoned, say
nothing of uninhibited. Feast Friday was the source of
most of those wild tales Sarah had heard before she’d
hired on, so she wasn’t the least bit surprised to discover
the guys had brought a huge supply of liquor.


The day had been a scorcher—the temperature in the high
nineties. Although the evening brought cooler temps,
no one went too long without dipping into the lake to cool
off. Everyone still wore bathing suits, even after sundown.



Sarah was sitting, watching the swimmers, when a voice
startled her.


“Here!”


She looked up to find Chuck hovering above her, offering
a drink. She dare not confess that she didn’t drink lest
he think her a prude, so offering up her best smile, she took
the offering. “Thanks.” She sipped it. It was all she
could do to keep from curling her nose at its bitter taste.
She handed it back. “It’s kind of strong. Any chance
you could add more mixer?”


“No problem.”


She watched him walk away, he eyes trained on the muscles
dancing up and down his thighs and buttocks as his weight
shifted with each stride. That same tingling she’d felt
at the dinner they’d spent together returned. Moments
later he was back at her side with her watered down drink.



The party went on for hours. Two or three counselors had
guitars, so camp songs, hot dogs and potato chips were in
abundance. The food supply was quickly exhausted, but
not the booze. Whenever her drink emptied someone was there
with a refill. Since the most she’d ever drunk before
was a toddy or two at holiday gatherings, the drinks began
to take their toll, but being the center of Chuck’s attention
was irresistible, so she persevered. Although she suspected
the drinks he brought were no longer watered down, she couldn’t
tell. Those early beverages had anesthetized her taste
buds. After awhile she no longer cared.


Eventually they took a different toll—she needed to
pee. She tried to stand, but hadn’t gotten even halfway
to her feet before she lost her balance and tumbled to the
sand.


“Let me help, ” Chuck offered, lifting her to feet.



She giggled. “Nope. Sorry, girls only—I have to pee.”
She knew she was drunk, but she was still amazed she’d
dared to say such a thing to a guy.


“It’s a long walk. I doubt you’ll make it on your own.”



He was right. The only toilets were in the cabins, and the
closest one was quite a walk. Left to her own devices she’d
have had to crawl to make it there. Normally she’d simply
pee behind a bush, but with guys here, that wasn’t an option.



She had to lean against him to maintain her balance. He draped
an arm around her back and pulled her to him, steadying her,
but they hadn’t gone far before that hand slipped down
to her ass. She knew she ought to object, but didn’t, since
walking as they were she had one boob pressed against his
chest. Doubting he even realized it, she kept walking,
pretending she hadn’t noticed his hand, delighting
in the fact that the thin material of her halter top was all
that kept her suddenly swollen nipple from touching a man’s
flesh. She’d never allowed herself to get this turned
on before. Too good to pass on, she wasn’t about to let
a wandering hand interfere disrupt that pleasure.


They finally reached the cabin, but when she veered toward
it, he tugged her the other way. “Everyone uses that one,
why don’t you use the one in my cabin, instead?”


Not anxious to separate their bodies, she let him lead her
away, but before long she was ruing her decision. His cabin
was at the far end of the camp and her bladder was ready to
explode. In the end, she ran giggling and stumbling into
the cabin to make it to the toilet in time.


She sat relieving herself, praying that he couldn’t
hear her through the wall. When she wiped she realized her
nipple wasn’t her only swollen body part. Licking her
lips, she spent extra time cleaning herself.


Pulling up her bottoms, she opened the bathroom door. Chuck
had lit a small lamp on the far side of the room. It gave off
about as much light as a candle would.


The instant she stepped into the room, Chuck swept her into
his arms and pulled her body to his, kissing her, stealing
her breath away.


His hand drifted back to its old resting place on her ass
as he pinned her to him, pressing her nearly naked body into
his. Skin touched bare skin. Tummy flesh touched heated
tummy flesh. Her body afire, she leaned into the kiss. His
tongue probed her mouth. She responded in kind, delighting
at having both nipples rubbing his chest at once. Both sprang
to attention.


She felt something pressing her tummy. Something hard.
Something male. Something clearly aroused by her presence.
It was the first time she’d felt the touch of a man’s
penis. Her conscience told her what she was doing was wrong,
that she ought to stop this now, but her body’s needs took
precedence over her mind’s objections, the tingling
sensation between her legs too irresistible to deny.


She reached around him, rubbing his back as they kissed.
Seemingly of their own volition, her hands drifted lower,
as if some foreign force had seized control of them. Squeezing
an ass cheek in either hand, she rose on tiptoes and pressed
her clit against his throbbing bulge. Her entire body trembled
as wetness flooded her groin.


He broke their kiss, and sweeping her into his arms, carried
her to the bunk on the far side of the room. He plopped her
down, crawled up beside her, and positioned himself between
her thighs. He lowered his torso until their genitals touched,
and rocking back and forth, started humping her.


Her knees swung open. She pulled her feet up the bunk far
enough to flatten her feet against the bedspread, gaining
leverage. Her pelvis rose to greet his every thrust, her
throbbing clit seeking his hardness; their horizontal
dance setting her nipples and loins afire.


He rose up on one arm, reached behind her, and unclipped
her halter. Jerking it away, he tossed it across the room.
An instant later his mouth consumed a taut nipple, evoking
a gasp as she arched it toward him. She’d played with them
herself a thousand times before, but tweaking herself
paled in comparison with the flitting tongue exciting
her now.


Something deep within cried out, telling her what she was
doing was wrong, that she was quickly losing control of
her situation. If she didn’t stop him soon she feared
she never would. She placed her hands on his chest to push
him away, but her limbs defied her. Instead, she found herself
stroking his oh-so-hard pectorals. “Chuck, we shouldn’t
be doing this. It’s wrong.”


His mouth deserted her nipple, leaving it cold and unfulfilled.
“Then why does it feel so right?” he asked, nibbling
her neck briefly before licking his way downward until
he found the breast he’d so far ignored. Her eyelids were
suddenly heavy, way too heavy. They fluttered shut. Her
mouth opened as she pushed her chest upward, rotating it,
pushing her tit into that delightful, hot, wet, cavern.



While his tongue toyed with her squirming mammary, he dragged
her hand to his crotch and molded her fingers around his
swollen flesh. She tried to remove her hand, but his grip
was too strong. “Rub my cock, ” he demanded, lifting
his hips enough to grant her freedom of movement.


Although she’d imagined it many times, she’d never
touched a man there before. Chest heaving, her traitorous
fingers gripped him, squeezing him, trying to imagine
what he looked like down there. Did his penis look like the
one in the porn movie she and Suzanne had watched a few weeks
back? She gasped as his wet mouth switched nipples. She’d
never experienced anything so delicious in all her life.



Lost in the bliss of his suckling mouth, she was only vaguely
aware that he’d lifted his hips. Seconds later he pulled
her hand to him again. Her fingers found a hot, swollen,
fleshy, bare cock. Yes, “cock” was what he’d called
it. Not penis, not an erection, but a COCK! The word was as
crude as it was stimulating.


His mouth shifted nipples. “No-o-o, ” she objected,
even as she arched to meet him. “Oh-h-h, no, please.”
Why had she drunk so much?


“Please what?” he asked, “Do you want me to bite them?”
Without waiting for a response, he proceeded to do so, evoking
another moan. He laughed. “Admit it, you LOVE having
me chew on them.”


It was all too obvious he was right. They both knew it, but
it was nonetheless humiliating that he had the audacity
to say it aloud. Protesting as much to herself as to him,
she managed a whispered, “No, ” but there was no force
behind her objection. In fact, in the same moment she uttered
it, she stroked his cock.


He rolled off of her, onto one hip, granting her better access
to his cock. His COCK. Just thinking the word was arousing.
She looked down as she stroked him, hardly believing she
had a man’s cock in her hand, and that she was wearing nothing
but her tiny bikini bottoms with her breasts bared to his
view, to his touch, to the wetness of his mouth. And not just
a cock, but a swollen, fully aroused one, excited to its
present state by her presence.


Easing her grip, she traced its length with her fingertips,
exploring, touching it everywhere, memorizing its feel.
She lowered her hand and cupped his testicles. No, not testicles;
“balls.” Like “cock”, “balls” best defined
their essence.


Abandoning them, her fingers worked their way to its tip.
She squeezed, pumping him. Who would ever have guessed
that touching a man’s cock would be so stimulating? No,
it wasn’t just the touching that excited her so, it was
knowing that her touch was probably arousing him more than
it was her. She eased her grip, letting her fingers crawl
its contour, experimenting, probing, memorizing.


“Yes, like that, ” he moaned.


She looked up at him. His eyes were half mast as he licked
his lips. Even in the dim light his desire was obvious. His
lust. For the first time in her life, she felt sexually empowered.



Gripping his crown, she lowered her thumb onto the smooth
cock head. It was wet. Sticky wet. She smeared the moisture
around its head, and in doing so, found the slit at its center.
Wetness oozed from the opening—because of her and what
she was doing to him. She’d relegated Chuck—the hunkiest
of the hunky counselors—to little more than putty in
her hands. That knowledge ratcheted up her own excitement
level.


Rolling to his back, he placed a hand behind her head and
lifted. She sat up, but his hand continued to push, forcing
her face toward his loins and that marvelous cock. “If
you want to know what my cock is like, take a closer look.”



How had he known? Curious, she twisted to her side, allowing
her head to be lowered until his cock nearly touched her
face. From this distance she could make out its every detail.
Fascinated, she dragged her hand to the bottom of his cock,
squeezing with sufficient pressure to pull the skin tight.
Liquid oozed from its slit and trickled off the bulbous
tip. She brought her nose close, sniffing. It was unlike
any odor she’d ever smelled. Starch was the only aroma
that came close to describing it.


He was watching her. “Taste it. Taste my cum, ” he said,
pushing her mouth to his cock. As hot as his cock felt in her
hand, it seemed even hotter against her lips. He called
it cum, another word as crass as cock and balls. Another
perfect attribution. If you’d have asked her a thousand
times before this moment if she’d lick cum from a man’s
cock, she’d have screamed “NO, ” at the top of her
lungs. Strangely, such wasn’t the case now.


Extending her tongue, she tentatively licked the dollop
caught on the ridge of his penis. The viscous liquid tasted
salty. Mostly, it smelled and tasted masculine. Feeling
ever more empowered, she stroked him a couple more times,
squeezing as she caressed. More cum appeared, and as before,
quickly dribbled off his crown. She leaned to kiss it, smearing
it with her lips as she mouthed her way up his cock to his slit,
where she rubbed her lips back and forth like the girl in
the porn movie had done. But that girl hadn’t stopped
with kisses—she’d done more.


She stared up at him, probing his slit with her tongue, watching
him watch her, hardly believing she was tonguing a man’s
cock. Her heart raced so she feared it would burst through
her chest. Was this how hookers felt? For the first time
in her life she had insights into why they chose that profession.



Thinking back on that movie, she contemplated doing what
that girl had done, what she suspected only whores did.
The prospect upped her excitement level. Giving him her
smokiest look, she opened her mouth. Her lips closed over
his cock. She maintained eye contact with him, wondering
if Chuck would think her expression as nasty and naughty
as she hoped he would.


His eyes drifted closed, confirming that she’d turned
the tables on him, that she’d made Mr. Confidence her
plaything instead of the other way around. She almost laughed.
Almost. The fact that her mouth was stuffed with a hardened
cock allowed for no such distractions.


Closing her eyes, she consumed more of him, amazed that
she, Miss Goody Two Shoes, was swallowing a rock hard, fully
aroused, cock. What made it even better was that the cock
she was sucking like some cheap, two-bit whore, belonged
to the handsomest man she’d ever been with. She was sure
that if she lived to be a hundred, she’d never be this sexually
stimulated again.


She felt a hand on her stomach. Obeying its unspoken command,
she rolled to her back. Resting on her elbow, she twisted
her torso so she could bob her mouth on his delicious cock.
His hand left her tummy, drifting into her bikini bottoms,
sliding toward her love nest. He was going to touch her THERE!



She felt contact. His finger probed her opening and entered.
Her initial cry was little more than a muffled oomph. When
he slid deeper, she lifted her head, tossing it back and
forth. “God oh God oh God.” Having a man touch you there
was so-o much better than doing it yourself.


He tugged on her shorts. She lifted her hips, allowing him
to ease them down her legs, fully aware that she was allowing
a man strip her—a man she hardly knew. She kicked it off
her ankles and spread her thighs, exalting at becoming
a naked offering. She had no idea what was to come, only that
whatever it was, she was sure she’d relish it.


“Awww-w!” His tongue had touched her. She grabbed
the back of the head, pressing him to her. And then, as he
licked her back to front, something happened—something
wonderful. Her pelvis arched as she ground her sweet parts
into that feasting mouth. Bucking wildly, she came. Her
body shuddered as throes of pleasure washed over her. Still,
he kept chewing, feeding on her, until the ecstasy of his
sweet mouth became too painful to bear. She pushed him away.
“No more. Please, no more.”


She lay panting, letting her climax wane. Her breathing
slowly ebbed to normal, but not her desire. As soon as her
orgasm fully subsided, she rolled to her side, her mouth
once again consuming his cock. He’d made her cum, now
it was his turn.


Apparently he agreed. Grabbing handfuls of her hair, he
forced her mouth down on his turgid cock, treating her much
like the man in her movie had treated his whore. It was magnificent.



He pushed far deeper than she’d taken him before. She
let her jaw slacken, doing her best to relax both throat
and mouth. His thrusts were slow at first, pushing in and
out of her mouth in long smooth strokes. Each created a wet
slurping sound. The obscenity of it thrilled her. She sucked
his monstrous cock, doing her all to pleasure him, relishing
at the thought of having an overly-excited engorged cock
sliding between her lips. She rubbed her thighs back and
forth, hoping to somehow create sufficient friction to
make herself cum again.


The pace of his strokes quickened. Without warning, he
rolled her onto her back and positioned his crotch above
her head. He slipped his cock back into her waiting mouth
and began to pile drive, his onslaught a clear indication
that he’d re-seized control. Now, instead of her pleasuring
him, he was fucking her mouth. Is this what a man did to a woman’s
pussy? Yes, pussy not vagina. It was another of those jaded,
yet oh so perfect, words.


Every push seemed deeper than its predecessor. She gagged,
spawning a moment of panic as she struggled to breathe.
Knowing other women managed this, she did her best to relax
her throat and jaw muscles. Immediately her gag reflex
eased. She flared her nostrils, breathing through her
nose with eyes closed, thrilling at the prospect of having
this handsome man deep-throat her like he would some cheap
prostitute. It was arousal on steroids.


“Jesus, Sarah, I’m there!”


The realization struck her that if she didn’t do something
to prevent it he’d cum in her mouth. Should she stop him
or let him continue? It was obvious that sometime back she’d
crossed over whatever imagery line differentiated seduction
from debauchery. Had her decision already been made at
that moment? It was a night of firsts—why not one more?
Sighing, she relaxed her throat and closed her eyes. Since
she’d remember his night for the rest of her life, she
might as well make it as memorable as possible.


He gyrated briefly, and then sank his cock deep into her
gullet, holding himself there. It was about to happen—a
man’s cock was going to explode in her mouth. Her trembling
hands reached for her crotch, one fingering her clit while
the other stuffed two fingers up her vagina. She finger-fucked
herself, waiting for his cum.


Chuck’s cock muscles flexed, expanded, and then spasmed.
He let out an animalistic roar as warm liquid flooded her
throat. She worked her throat muscles, swallowing, fearing
that not doing so would block her air supply. She’d hoped
to know its flavor, but he was so deep he was beyond her taste
buds.


“Gawd!” he bawled as a second spasm gushed out more
of his jism, all because of her. She was in Nirvana.


She dug her fingers deeper into her pussy, her hips bucking
wildly as Chuck came—and her with him. She’d have cried
out, but his cock prevented it. Instead, she bit down on
his cock, desperate for release, a distant part of her mind
wondering if she was hurting him.


He continued to spurt, again and again. Although the strength
of his expulsions eased, he continued to gyrate—spewing
more cum. His beastly moans triggered another orgasm.
It swept over her like some winter storm. Gone was any hint
of the prude she’d always considered herself to be; a
wanton slut had replaced that silly girl.


Eventually his spasms ceased and his cock softened. Resting
on his hands, he slowly eased it from her mouth, allowing
her to breath normally again. Her eyes smiled up at him as
she puckered her lips and rubbed her breasts, anxious to
let him know how much he’d pleased her.


He pulled away, creating strings of cum and saliva that
ran unbroken from his cock to her lips. Leaning forward,
she gathered them in with her tongue, finally tasting him.
The flavor was no different than those earlier drops of
starchy precum, but this time there was the added satisfaction
of knowing she’d taken all he had to offer, that she’d
consumed every ounce of the lust she stirred within him.
With eyes locked on his, she ever so slowly licked the last
of his cum off her lips. Only after she was sure they were
completely clean did she smile and say, “I bet my dessert
was better than what the other girls had.”


Sorry Saturday –Part II


Arms leaning on the commode, Sarah sat perched on her knees,
paying homage to the porcelain gods. It was the morning
after and the fourth time she’d thrown up since her previous
night’s misadventures. With all hint of food gone, she
now endured the dry heaves. The only good news was that her
hangover would likely have been far worse had she not expelled
as much liquor as she had. God, what a fool she was. Could
anyone possibly have done more to embarrass herself? Here
she’d met the most interesting guy of her life and she’d
gotten drunk and done unspeakable things with him. What
must he think of her? She’d never be able to face him again.
Her stomach convulsed one more time. Again, nothing came
out. Wiping her mouth, she flushed the toilet and staggered
back to her bunk. After taking aspirin, she crawled back
into her bunk. She planned to spend the day there.


Sleep did wonders for her hangover, but hunger eventually
got the best of her. She dressed and made for the mess cabin.
She was less than fifty paces away when she saw Chuck walk
out its door. She thought he might have waved, but she’d
spun about so quickly she couldn’t be sure. She couldn’t
bear the humiliating prospect of facing him after what
they’d done. She scurried behind a nearby cabin, and
only after she was sure he’d gone, did she venture back
for food.


The mess hall was empty, everyone else having already eaten.
Fortunately, Cookie noticed her absence and saved her
some food. Middle-aged, he was in charge of the mess area.
“You better hurry if you’re going to make it to the bus
on time, ” he admonished. “They leave at noon.”



“What bus?”


“The mini-bus. The other counselors are spending the
day in town.”


That likely explained why she hadn’t seen Jan this morning.
Chuck was probably going, too. Would those two hook up?
Would Jan be Chuck’s Saturday whore? She gagged. With
her tummy so tender, she’d best not contemplate such
things. She ate, but the food seemed tasteless.


She waited until well past noon before venturing down to
the beach where they’d partied the night before, this
time wearing shorts and a blouse instead of her bikini.
She felt like a criminal returning to the scene of a crime.



The beach was a mess. Bottles and paper and plastic utensils
were strewn everywhere. Jim and Allen were there with garbage
backs, cleaning up. Since she’d surely contributed
to the carnage, she felt duty-bound to help. “Got an extra
garbage bag?”


The men looked up, spotting her for the first time. Allen
waved. “Hey Sarah, I thought you went to town.”


“Nope. I’m not up to it.” Offering a forlorn look,
she rubbed her stomach.


He laughed. “Hung over, eh?”


“The worst. I’ve never drunk that much before.”
There, she’d at least made a partial confession. They’d
have thought her prudish had she told them she’d never
drunk before. But then again, had they known what she’d
done after drinking so much, they likely have had nothing
to do with her.


It took nearly an hour to spiff up the beach, but they finally
had it back to a near pristine state. “Whew!” Allen
said, “Let’s hit the bikes and head for Condor.”
Condor was a beach on the far side of the lake.


“Amen, ” Jim echoed, heading up the sand toward two
small road bikes. Sarah hadn’t noticed them until now.
“Come on, Sarah, you can ride with me.”


Should she? Was she up to company? “Naw, I think I’ll
stay here and recuperate.”


Jim turned. “Those guys will be in town for hours.”
He pulled off his shirt and stuffed it into the bike’s
carrying pouch. “You’ll spend the entire day alone.”



She really didn’t want to socialize, but that many hours
by herself would just make her stew over her behavior of
the night before. She shrugged. “All right.”


She and Allen joined Jim. Jim kick-started the bike and
she climbed on behind him. Although a one-seater, it was
plenty long enough for two. In no time they were circling
the lake, heading for Condor Beach.


The road was so bumpy that even with her arms wrapped around
Jim’s waist she had to scoot close and cling to him to keep
from getting tossed. The only way she could fit that close
was to pin her thighs to his hips. Each bounce banged her
crotch against his ass. That, combined with the vibrating
seat, started to arouse her. God! What’s happening to
me? I’m cold sober right now. I have no excuse.


The longer they rode, the greater the itch between her legs
grew. Before long she found herself pushing her crotch
into his backside, creating pressure on her clit. Her mind
drifted to thoughts of Chuck. Was he with Jan now? Were they
together on some motel bed with his cock stuffed in her mouth?
She tried to envision it, but instead the image that came
to mind was that of the whore in the movie sucking on that
man’s cock, smiling up at him through lust-filled eyes.
Sarah closed her eyes and the vision changed. Instead of
the whore, it was Jan doing the sucking, and on Chuck’s
cock, not Movie Man’s. Then, while Chuck watched, the
girl with his cock in her mouth transformed from Jan to her.
Sarah had become the whore.


As her arousal escalated, she found herself humping into
Jim. Could he tell what she was doing, or would he think the
rough, unfinished road was causing her movements? She
thought about the hard abs she was gripping just below his
belly button. Taking advantage of the next bounce, she
let her grip slide down until her fingers were touching
his belt, just above his crotch. Was he as aware of how close
her hands were to his cock? Was that prospect making him
hard, or would he need help? She contemplated slipping
her thumbs inside his pants, as if gaining a better grip.
From there she could ever so slowly undo his fly and free
enough room to slide her hand down and rest it on his manhood.
From there, the vibrating bike would surely complete her
task.


Lost in this new fantasy, she rocked her pelvis up and down,
rubbing her clit, trying to get herself off. She was nearly
there when her body was suddenly thrust into his, tearing
her from her reverie. He’d hit the brake. She opened her
eyes and looked around. They’d reached a giant, sandy
beach.


“Sorry about the sudden stop, ” he said apologetically,
“but we’re here.”


They parked the bikes and wandered down to the water’s
edge. No wonder they wanted to come here—the place was
gorgeous.


“I don’t know about you two, ” Allen announced,
“but I’m going for a dip.” He pulled off his shirt.



“I can’t, ” Sarah complained, “I didn’t bring
a suit.”


Allen looked at her as if she were crazy. “No one wears
a suit at Condor Beach, ” he said, undoing his belt and
opening his fly, “everyone skinny-dips.” With that,
he jerked down his pants. He wasn’t wearing underwear.
His limp cock bounced as he pulled his shorts over his feet.



It didn’t take long before Jim was naked too. “Come
on Sarah, off with the clothes or I’m going to believe
what Jan said about you being a prude.”


God! What had she told them? Her eyes flitted back and forth,
from crotch to crotch. Before coming to this summer camp
she’d never seen a real life cock—now, in a span of twelve
hours, she’d seen three. Fearing her stares obvious,
she tore her eyes away from their manhood. “Who knows,
maybe Jan was telling the truth, ” she said, aware of
how beet red her face must look.


Jim shrugged. “Suit yourself.”


Turning in tandem, the men turned and jogged toward the
water, leaving her standing alone, fully dressed. She
watched their naked bodies disappear into the lake. What
should she do? There was no denying how exciting the prospect
of swimming nude with them was, but to show her naked body
off to two near strangers seemed far too risqué. Besides,
Jan was wrong—she wasn’t a prude. God knows she’d
proved that last night.


She began to feel ridiculous, and sighing, started undoing
her blouse. Because of the heat, she’d worn a chemise
instead of a bra. Should she wear it into the water or let
the men see her breasts? She contemplated that choice as
she slipped off her shorts. She looked down as she slipped
the garment over her feet. Her crotch was visibly damp.
Damn her and her fantasies. If she didn’t take off her
thong, one glance would let them know how aroused she’d
gotten.


In the end she decided to leave both pieces on, she’d just
have to quickly dip her thong below the water line. Getting
totally wet would hide the wet spot. Leaving her discarded
clothing in the sand, she skipped down to join them.


Jim watched as she squatted in the water. “Hey, I said
no clothing at Condor Beach.” At least he’d grinned
when he said it. Maybe he was only kidding. “Off with it.”



“No way, ” she said, standing, the excess water streaming
down her legs. When she looked to make sure the damp spot
was fully blended, she gasped. Gods! The wet material was
so translucent she might as well be naked.


“Yes, WAY, ” Allen added, his head popping through
the surface beside her. “Otherwise we’ll have to take
them off for you.”


Her eyes went wide. “You wouldn’t DARE!”


“Try me, ” Allen answered, lunging toward her.


Screeching, she spun to run away, only to crash into Jim.
He briefly pinned her to his wet chest, and then, gripping
her by the shoulders, pushed her away, his eyes fixated
on her chest. She looked, too. His wet body had soaked her
chemise. The damp material clung to her breasts, her nipples
glaringly obvious.


Allen grabbed her from behind. “Not here. Let’s take
her up the beach by our clothes.”


Laughing, she yelped as they hoisted her out of the water.
One grabbed her by the thighs, the other by her rib cage,
and together they carried her head first up the beach like
a piece of rescued driftwood. She struggled briefly, hoping
to break loose, but quickly determined it was pointless.
Instead, she stilled and let them carry her.


Allen held her torso, Jim her legs. With one shoulder down,
she was turned toward Allen, her chest pressed against
his thigh. His limp, bouncing cock flopped only inches
from her face. She watched it, wondering where this adventure
would lead them.


They’d no sooner set her down than Allen reached for her
chemise. She spun away, laughing. “I said no.”


“And we say yes.” He glanced at Jim. “I’ll take
the top, you get her bottoms.”


God, they were really going to strip her. The prospect excited
her so she found it hard to breathe. Allen tugged up her top,
but the material caught at her armpits. Realizing the pointlessness
of resistance, she held her arms up and let him peel the garment
over her head. The second it cleared her body, all eyes fell
to her full breasts and their very swollen nipples. She
checked their expressions, hoping to see approval.


“Sit her so I can get her bottoms off, ” Jim ordered.



Allen pushed and she sat. Leaning back on her hands, she
watched Jim grab her thong at each hip and tug, very much
like the man in the movie had done to his whore. There had
been just one man in the movie, whereas she had two stripping
her—on an isolated beach with God knows what intentions.
The similarity of events had her trembling.


“Lift!” Jim commanded. Her mind boggled as she raised
her hips. He pulled. Her shudders increased as he exposed
her pussy. He slipped her thong off one foot and reached
for her other. She raised that leg, and voila, she was completely
nude, her most intimate parts exposed to their lusty glares.



A strange silence fell over the three of them. No one moved.
The men’s eyes roamed her body, making her feel naughty
and brazen. What were they thinking? Did they like what
they saw? Her gaze drifted to their cocks. Although not
fully hard, they no longer dangled limply. Looking at her
was turning them on. Her nipples tingled, seeming ready
to explode. Her crotch felt much the same. Their stares
were intense. The excitement of their scrutiny triggered
her panting, her chest rising and falling with labored
breaths under their watchful leers.


The moment became too much. It consumed her. Closing her
eyes, she leaned back, rocking her breasts from side to
side, letting them ogle her. Licking her lips, she let one
knee drift to the side, offering up a clearer view of her
pussy. Were they looking at it?


Her eyes opened, focusing immediately on their cocks.
Both pointed forward now, standing proud and full. Glorying
in their obvious arousal, she let her other knee drift aside,
opening her pussy lips. Shudders thundered through her,
every limb suddenly trembling out of control.


“Jesus, ” Allen muttered. “Fuck swimming, I want
some of that.”


“Amen, ” Jim answered. “Jan sure had her pegged
wrong. Prude hell, a bitch in heat is more like it.”


They were referring to her in the third person, as if she
couldn’t hear their profane remarks. Her trembles continued.



Jim knelt between her legs. “Time to eat some pussy.”



Panicked, she sat up. “No!”


Allen slowly pushed her back to the sand. “Shush. You’re
ripe for the taking and you know it. Since we plan to do with
you as we please, you might as well relax and enjoy it.”



They were treating her like a whore, planning to use her
for whatever perverse sexual gratification came to mind,
and she had no say in the matter—just like in the movie.
Her trembles increased as she contemplated what came next.



Her pelvis bucked as Jim tongued her pussy. She cried out
her ecstasy.


Allen laughed. “Go for it Jimmy, she likes it.” Falling
to his knees, he slid a hand up her tummy and over a breast.
She was helpless to do anything but moan as she watched him
pinch her nipple. They was using her just as he’d said.
Turning her head toward him, he leaned close and whispered,
“In fact, you like it a lot, don’t you little lady?”



Eyes wide, her mouth opened, but no words came forth. Speech
was beyond her. Instead, she arched her chest toward his
pinching fingers. Bending down, he flicked his tongue
over a nipple. She gasped. He laughed again. “Judging
form your reactions, I suspect you’re more slut than
lady, however.”


He just called her a slut. Slut, pussy, cock, all such exciting
words. But was he right, was she a slut? What else would you
call a woman lying nude on a beach with two naked men she hardly
knew, letting one eating her pussy while the other fondled
her tits? They’d also called her a bitch in heat, another
moniker she found difficult to argue with. Once again she
wondered if this was the joy a whore felt. Yes, a whore. They
were treating her like a slutty whore and she was loving
every second of it. She squirmed, wondering what they’d
do to her next.


Jim’s mouth on her pussy felt soo-o good. She bucked and
twisted, her continuous moans so loud any passerby could
hear. But there was no one else left at camp but Cookie. What
would it be like if he could hear her desperate cries? She
pictured him hiding in the nearby bushes watching Jim and
Allen have their way with her. The thought triggered an
intense tingling in her loins. A moment later those tingles
exploded. She wrapped her thighs around Jim’s head as
her frenzied midsection bucked to greet his feeding face.



“Christ, ” Allen said appreciatively, “she’s
cumming.”


Her gripping thighs kept Jim’s head pinned to her as her
orgasm ran its course. Only after it subsided did she open
her legs and free him. Her breathing slowed. She opened
her eyes to find Allen staring at her pussy—grinning.
Her eyes drifted to his cock, still inches from her face.
She stared at it, noting how it differed from Chuck’s.
Allen’s was thinner, and curved, less likely to choke
her were he to stick it in her mouth. She wondered if he would.



Allen stroked his cock. “Do you like what you see, Sarah?
Would you like to suck on it?” Her eyes flitted up to meet
his. Were all her thoughts obvious?


He knelt above her, straddling her, his cock looming just
above her face. He turned back to Jim. “Fuck her while
she sucks me off!”


“No!” she cried. “I’m a virgin!”


She tried to rise, but Allen’s weight prevented. “You
hear that, Jimmie? You get to pop a cherry.”


God, they were going to fuck her like some common whore.
Would it hurt her, or would she cry out in ecstasy like the
woman in the movie had done, the one who kept dominating
her thoughts?


Something slid up her slit and settled at her opening. Too
large and bulbous for a finger, it had to be Jim’s cock.
Fear and lust swept over her in equal measures. Softer and
broader than his finger, it felt fantastic. She splayed
her legs wider, not knowing what to expect, yet anxious
to find out.


His tip pressed into her. Despite her virginity, her pussy
responded to its eons of evolutionary programming. It
opened, receiving the invading cock, milking it, caressing
it, clamping down its muscles, preparing to rut. Jim halted,
holding himself still. Bracing her weight on her heels,
she pushed upward, anxious to get on with it. He pulled back
slightly, his cock tugging her vaginal wall with it, exciting
each and every nerve ending it brushed. Warmth faded as
he withdrew, leaving her pussy cold and aching—empty.



His weight shifted. He pushed forward, hard, going deeper
than before. Her insides felt stuffed. He continued to
press, but something prevented further penetration.
She felt a burning sensation, then pressure, followed
by excruciating pain as he suddenly plumbed her depths.
She cried out. Her hymen had ruptured—her days as a virgin
how history.


Thankfully, he ceased his movements and the pain eased.
Then, without conscious instruction, her vaginal muscles
started quivering, vibrating, squeezing and caressing
its newfound visitor. Pain turned to pleasure.


She opened her eyes. Allen was staring down at her, a curious
expression on his face, his throbbing cock pulsating next
to her, its tip dripping precum just as Chuck’s had done
the night before. While she stared at one cock, the other
slowly withdrew from her until only its tip remained inside
her. With the pain having subsided, his departing penis
left her empty and yearning, desperate for its return.



She didn’t have to wait long as he pushed back into her.
She tossed her head to one side. “Oh, God!”


He pulled out and pushed in, over and over, gaining a rhythm
as he started fucking her in earnest. It was happening,
she was getting fucked—on a beach by someone she hardly
knew. Taken by a guy whose cock she fantasized about.


He picked up his pace. The whore in the movie had the right
of it, being fucked felt wonderful. “That feels so good.”
It was all the encouragement Jim needed as his cock pounded
in and out of her, seeking its own joy from her wet and willing
snatch.


“Hey, sweetheart, aren’t you forgetting someone?”



A strange sensation titillated her nipples. She looked
up to find Allen shoving his cock between her breasts. With
one tit in each hand, he’d twisted her nipples inward
as he parroted Jim’s fucking motion below. He paused
briefly to press the tip of his cock into a nipple, drenching
it with precum. After teasing that one for awhile, he shifted
to the other one. Once both were sufficiently wet, he began
rocking between them, fucking her chest.


She watched, licking her lips, as his rhythmic cock motion
slowly coated her chest with his discharge. It was far more
erotic than anything she’d seen in the movie. She was
wondering if he was going make himself come that way when
he stopped. He leaned forward and brushed its head left
to right across her lips. She stared at his cock. “Is this
what you want, Sarah, a big cock to chew while Jimmy fucks
you?”


Giving him a smoky look, she extended her tongue, lapping
his surface. He rewarded her by pushing a portion of it into
her mouth. Gently closing her jaw, she nibbled his tip while
titillating his flesh with her tongue.


“Don’t lick, suck!”


Closing her eyes, she leaned forward, swallowing more
of him. He leaned too, and pushed himself down her throat.
She reached around his buttocks, gripping his naked ass
cheek. Digging in her nails, she pulled him deeper.


She gagged for want of air. In response, he tried to pull
back, but she held him tightly, denying him. Once his movements
stopped, she removed her mouth, and cupping his balls with
one hand, stroked his cock with the other. He moaned. She
licked her way down to his sack, her dancing tongue probing
his balls. Although hairless, she felt whiskers. She hadn’t
realized men shaved their balls. She pumped his cock, fast
and hard, anxious to make him cum. His breathing was little
more than gasps, moans and groans. She marveled at the power
a woman’s mouth had over a man.


While her mouth gave joy to one cock, a second one continued
to pleasure her loins. Two cocks at once, surely enough
to evoke even a movie whore’s envy.


Jim suddenly changed the way he was fucking her, drawing
her attention back to him. She wrapped her lips around Allen’s
cock and swallowed; it was time to concentrate on her own
pleasure.


Instead of fucking her like a madman, Jim’s withdrawals
slowed to a crawl, only to ram himself in at breakneck speed.
Over and over he repeated his strange, staccato action.
It felt fantastic. "Yes, do it like that.”


Each rapid plunge stretched her pussy, allowing him to
touch her in new and different places. Those places started
to erupt. “Keep fucking me! Give me that cock! Make me
cum!”


Her pussy juiced. She wrapped her legs around him, kicking
his ass with her heels as her seemingly non-stop orgasm
washed through. Jim’s pace quickly reverted back to
thrusts only, as he mercilessly pounded her pussy with
his wonderful cock, his balls slapping into her with every
stroke. “Fuck me harder!”


He did, but only briefly before burying himself deep within
her. She felt his cock swell. God, he was going to cum inside
her. He was going to squirt his sperm into her pussy. His
cock spasmed and swelled. When it finally pulsed she felt
a hot wet gush explode inside her as Jim marked his territory
with his seed, claiming a little beach whore as his own.



The orgasm it fostered was even stronger than the first.
She almost passed out.


The three of them lay there panting for some time. Allen
had pulled out of her mouth when she’d demanded that Jim
fuck her harder. Now she found him smiling down at her. “Let
me know when you’ve caught your breath, darling. It’s
time to teach you doggie-style.”


She met his eye. "If dog style’s what you want, do
it. I don’t care. Do whatever you do to me. Make me your
whore, ” she gave him a devilish grin, “like Jimmy
did.”


He laughed. “Then I’d best catch up. Turn over, up on
your knees.”


Like a good little whore, she did as she was told.


Finding Answers–Part III


Sarah busied herself helping out her girls as, one by one,
they returned to camp after a weekend with their families.
Whereas several had struggled with shyness the week they’d
arrived, now that they knew other kids, they seemed eager
to return. The weekend at home had been a good idea.


Dealing with the kids helped keep her mind off sex. Although
her escapade with Chuck had embarrassed her, she had no
such qualms about her romp in the sand with Jim and Allen.
It made her horny every time she thought about it, making
her wonder how a girl with her good Christian upbringing
could behave the way she was. Was she one of those women who
constantly craved sex? If she spread her legs for every
guy forceful enough to try, how would she ever marry, settle
down, and raise kids? Until she came to grips with those
questions she planned to steer clear of men.


To that end she spent the entire day with her charges. Only
after all were bedded down did she head for the mess cabin
to try to scrounge up a leftover meal. Since it was past dusk
she expected the place to be empty, so was surprised to find
Cookie still there sweeping floors. “Hey Cooks, ”
she greeted as walked inside, “don’t you ever stop
working?”


Chuckling, he looked up from his broom. “And do what,
sit alone in my cabin?” He shook his head. “Nope, I’d
just as soon stay busy.”


She pulled out a chair and plopped herself down. “I know
what you mean.”


“I noticed you weren’t here for dinner, can I throw
something together for you?”


“No thanks, I’ll just fix a sandwich, ” she said,
staring at the tabletop in front of her, Her mind focused
on problems other than food.


Cookie swept his way to her table. “Why so morose, Sugar,
the guys ignoring you?”


She guffawed at the irony. “I should be so lucky!”


Laying down his broom, he sat beside her, looking concerned.
“Is one of the guys causing trouble?”


She blushed. “More like the other way around.” Gods!
That wasn’t something you shared with the camp cook.
What was wrong with her anyway?


“You’re liking one of them but getting ignored then?”



Placing her hand over his, she smiled. “Sorry Cooks,
your guesses are getting colder, but thanks for asking,
anyway.”


He placed his hand on hers. “Come on, tell me what’s
troubling you. At my age I’ve been around the block enough
times to have drummed up a few answers.”


He was older and wiser, and very nice. Could she dare to share
what was on her mind? She studied him. His sideburns were
graying. Chicken feet framed his eyes, but instead of making
him look old, they gave his face character, as did the smile
wrinkles around his mouth. “You’re a man. Talking
about it with you would be too embarrassing.”


He shook his head. “Think of me like your father, or an
old man. The day’s long gone that I was one of those young
bucks the young girls fancied. Hell, I likely never was.
So talk to me.”


She squeezed his hand. “You’re a good looking man,
Cookie, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”



“Enough! I’m comfortable with who I am. Now tell me
what’s eating you.”


She studied him. She’d love advice, but how could she
share something this personal. “I’m afraid I can never
marry and settle down.”


He frowned, shaking his head. “Coming from a pretty girl
like you that’s about the most ridiculous statement
I ever heard. What makes you think that?”


Her face was burning. It had to be bright pink. “God, this
is so embarrassing.”


“Stop stalling—out with it. Why do you think you can’t
marry?”


She looked at him. “Because I think I’m a nymphomaniac.”



He guffawed. “I’ve thought that same thing of myself
many a time.”


“Yeah, you and every other guy on the planet.” She slugged
his arm. “Stop it, I’m serious.”


“So am I.” He held up his hands when she frowned. “OK,
tell me why you think you’re a nymph.”


Sarah proceeded to relate he woes, starting with Chuck,
and finishing with her sexcapade at Condor Beach. Surprisingly,
recounting it was cathartic, not embarrassing. It felt
good to get it off her chest. “Both times it was like some
spirit took over my body. All I could think about is….
Uhh!” She hid her face in her hands. “I can’t stop
thinking about their cocks.” She looked up at him, positive
that he’d be frowning. He wasn’t. He was simply sitting
and listening. “I was brought up in a strictly religious
family. How did I turn out so bad?”


“I agree in that you definitely have a healthy sex drive,
but lots of women do. Lots of girls with ‘religious upbringing’
come through this camp. All seem to fit in one of two categories:
ultra-religious or wild as hell. Apparently strict religious
rearing forces kids to one end of the spectrum or the other.
It sounds like you’ve made your choice, you just need
to decide how you’ll deal with it.”


What he said rang true. “How do I do that?”


He sat a moment, saying nothing, simply staring at her.
“Based on what you told me, I think you’re either what
psychologists label as a submissive or an eroticist. I’d
need to know specifics in order to answer that.”


Her stomach fluttered. Neither sounded good. She needed
answers. “What kind of specifics?”


“The kind you’d likely be afraid to share—unless
you really trust me.”


She squeezed his hand again. “I do. I trust you more than
anyone else in camp. What is it you need to know?”


“You might not like what I’m about to ask you to do. That’s
all right. If what I ask makes you uncomfortable and you
want to quit, just say so.”


Now she was getting nervous. What exactly did he have in
mind? “All right, let’s do it.”


“OK. I’m going ask you to perform some specific tasks,
during which I’ll be asking you what you’re thinking
and how you feel. Give me honest answers and we’ll know
if you’re a submissive, and eroticist, a bit of both,
or neither, and what to do about it. Can you accept those
rules?”


“I’ll try my best, I promise.”


“OK, remember this was your idea.” He twisted his chair
around, facing away from the table. “Here goes. Kneel
in front of me and rest your hand on my cock.” She could
hardly believe her ears. Why would he ask her to do that?
Was he a pervert? “This shouldn’t be an onerous task if you’re truly
a nymphomaniac.”


She looked him in the eye and saw no deception, only gentle
patience. Besides, like he said, he was a middle-aged man,
not some horny young hunk. “All right.”


She slipped off her chair and positioned herself between
his knees, staring at his groin. What kind of questions
would this prompt? Taking a deep breath, she placed her
hand on his crotch. Her breathing instantly quickened.



“Rub it back and forth. While you do it, tell me what you’re
thinking, how your body’s reacting.” She started
rubbing. “Talk to me.”


“Well, mostly I’m feeling foolish and embarrassed,
and a little scared.”


“That’s your mind. What about you body—what’s
it doing?”


His cock was already starting to harden, making concentration
difficult. “My tummy’s full of butterflies, and I’m
shaking so badly I can hardly think.”


“What else?”


“I can feel you getting hard.”


“Why do you think that’s happening?”


“Because I’m rubbing your cock.”


“That’s right, you’re exciting me. But it’s pointing
down my pants. There’s no room for it to fully harden.
What should we do about it?”


Butterflies filled her stomach. “Give it more room.”



“Then what are you waiting for?”


Taking a deep, calming breath, she rose up to her knees.
She released his cock long enough to undo his belt and open
his fly. His cock was caught up in his pants. “You’ll
need to raise your hips.”


“Not a problem, ” he said, lifting.


She tugged his pants down, taking extra time to slip them
off of his feet one pant-leg at time, purposefully delaying
her task. Done, she looked up at the huge bulge pushing up
his underwear. Arms quivering, she reached up and cupped
it, massaging it through the thin material.


“You’ve made and effort to excite me without my telling
you so. That’s good, Sarah, and very telling. I need to
know why you did that. Share your thoughts and feelings.
Are you feeling horny?”


“Oh, yeah, I’m definitely horny.” She pursed her
lips, licking them. “Your cock looks cramped. I’m
thinking how nice it would be to see and touch it.”


“Very good, we’re making progress. Do it.”


His cramped cock looked almost painful. His fly had stretched
open, revealing his pubic hairs. Oddly, some were grey.
Did that happen there, too? So was so nervous her hands were
sweating. When she reached through the opening, her cold
fingers found hot flesh. She wrapped them around it as she
chewed on her lip.


“Talk to me Sarah.”


“I love it that I have my hand on your cock. I’m really
getting excited now. It’s harder to breathe, and I have
that feeling between my legs I get whenever I’m horny.
It’s almost an itch, but not quite. My nipples are hard,
too. I can tell they’re sticking out.”


“And…”


“I want to take your shorts off so I can see your cock. I
want to touch my lips to it.”


“Excellent. That’s precisely the kind of information
I need. Feel free to act out your fantasies, but remember
to share your thoughts as they unfold.”


“First off, I want rid of these.” She jerked down his
shorts, tearing them off his feet, tossing them as far as
she could. She stared at her spoils. There it was, her fourth
cock in three days. Although shorter than the first three,
it was thicker. She wondered how it would feel if she were
to get fucked by it. She wrapped a hand around it and began
a gentle pumping. Grinning, she gave him ‘that’ look.



“Why are you looking at me that way, Sarah?”


“I want you to know what a bad girl I am, ” she said, stroking
him, “to let you know how much I’m looking forward to
doing naughty things to excite you.”


“Does it bother you to share your thoughts out loud?”



“God no, I love it.” She ran her tongue along his length,
stopping at the tip. “It makes me even hornier.”


She watched him as she kissed and licked her way up and down
his erection, amazed at how simple it was to control a man,
no matter what his age. Her heart was beating so she could
feel the veins pulsing in her temple throb. It was déjà
vu all over again.


“You do realize you left the door unlocked, don’t you,
Sarah?” She glanced at the door feely panicky. “Someone
could walk in any moment. What would they think if they saw
you kneeling between my thighs licking my cock?”


That answer required very little contemplation. “They’d
think I was a horny slut.”


“And what would be your reaction to that?”


“It would excite me to have them watch, especially if
were a guy wishing I was licking his cock instead of yours.
If it were a girl I’d say, ‘Eat your heart out baby.’”



“Then pretend you have an audience.”


Time to show them what a whore you are, Sarah. Rising to her
knees, her mouth enclosed him. Stroking his balls with
one hand, she masturbated him with her other. She pumped
faster and faster, bobbing her head, anxious to let whoever
was watching see him cum in her mouth.


“Is being watched arousing you?”


She lifted her mouth off his cock. “Oh-h-h yes!”


“Aroused enough that you want me to fuck you like when
those two men who took you at the beach?”


She thought about it. No, there was still a plateau beyond
this on. She shook her head. “I’d rather keep doing
this.”


“You fucking tease!” He shoved her so hard she fell
to her back. “If you think you can come in and suck my cock
without me fucking afterwards, you’ve got another think
coming!”


His sudden anger stunned her. It was so not him. She lay there,
cowering, wondering how to react.


“Lay back and spread your legs.” Frightened, she quickly
obeyed, her limbs suddenly quivering as badly has they
had on the beach with the guys. “Now squirm around like
someone’s fucking you, and look at me while you do it.”



Frightened, she began rocking her pelvis up and down, round
and round.


“Which one of them is fucking you?”


She closed her eyes, trying to envision it. She saw herself
pinned to the sand, pushing to meet a man’s thrusts. Her
pussy jerked upward, mimicking what it had done then. “It’s
Jim.”


“Is he the one you want to be taken by?”


Her daydream faded. Jim dissolved into Allen’s grinning
face, his hands toying with her titties. She grabbed a nipple
between each thumb and forefinger and squeezed, shaking
her head. “No.”


“Why?”


Her response was immediate. “Jim took advantage of the
situation, but Allen was more forceful. He ‘made’
me do things, things whores do.”


“And you liked that?”


“Yes, very much.”


“Think of the men here at camp. One of us is going to fuck
you in a minute—who do you want it to be?”


She tried to picture each man’s face—each body, each
personality. One by one she judged them, surprised at her
decision. “You.”


He smiled. “And why is that?”


“I need a good fucking in the worst way. I’d have to wait
for any of the others, you’re already here.”


He smiled. “Very good, my dear, you may stand up, I’ve
completed my diagnosis.”


His diagnosis? Was that what this was all about? As much
as she wanted to hear what he had to say, she had other more
urgent needs right now. Still, she climbed to her feet.
“I’m listening.”


Wiggling a finger, he coaxed her closer. “Stand in front
of me. Play with your nipples or anything else you think
might make me want you.”


God! What had she gotten herself into? But then, what difference
did it make; she knew she’d do whatever he demanded of
her. Whores always did. She stepped close and tweaked her
breasts. Although it felt good, it hardly addressed her
need. She did her best to ignore her pleasure and listen
to what he said. If she behaved, he still might fuck her.



“All right, for starters, you have a ‘very’ healthy
sex drive, something I admire in a woman. You’re right
that it might hinder a permanent relationship, but that
might be because you’ve only just learned the joys of
sex. Practice and experience might alleviate that, but
many otherwise happily married women still require an
occasional fling to keep their needs in check.”


She tried to make sense of what he’d just said, but her
engorged nipples made carrying on a conversation difficult.
Biting her lip, she released a nipple. Her freed hand slid
to her crotch. She gasped at its touch.


“You have two Achilles Heels: your propensity to act
out the whore, and your fixation with cocks. If you avoid
situations that expose those needs, you should be all right.
The two are related. Your obsession with penises is a manifestation
of your rebellion against your strict upbringing. But
there’s more to it. From what you told me, the more you
excite a man, the more excited you become. That’s why
you love to tease so much—it’s your way to drive men
to the brink, hoping it stirs him to take command, to force
you to do things for him. Once that happens, whatever comes
next is his idea, not yours—freeing you from guilt or
blame.


“The reason you act whore-like is merely an extension
of that phenomenon. When in this mode you’re at your most
alluring, yet passive and vulnerable. You do all in your
power to further entice him into fulfilling your needs.
In Psychology, you’d be dubbed a ‘partial’ subservient.
I consider you a partial because when I asked who you most
wanted to fuck you, you chose the person who could most quickly
fulfill your needs. Were you a total subservient you’d
most likely still be thrashing about on the floor, struggling
to make a decision. Be careful in choosing your partners
when you behave this way, there are abusive men who might
take advantage of you.”


Cookie took a deep breath, his eyes roaming her body, stopping
when he spied what her fingers were doing. “Do you have
any questions?” he asked watching, mesmerized, as she
stimulating herself.


She stroked her clit, thrilling at the fact it was turning
him on. “No.” Gads, of course she did. “I mean YES, ”
she corrected.


His eyes met hers. “Yes?” They drifted down to her chest.
He licked his lips.


“How is it you know so much?”


He continued staring at her chest. “In a past life I was
a clinical psychologist at a sexual counseling clinic.”



She was so shocked his almost quit probing herself. Almost;
but not quite. “If that’s true, how on Earth did you
wind up as a cook at a kid’s summer camp?” Since he was
staring at her breasts, she shifted her hands to play with
herself there, watching him watching her caress her breasts.



“I was fired. It seems Psychologists aren’t supposed
to fuck their clients.” He met her gaze. “I told you
I understood nymphomania.”


Grinning, she straddled his hips. “I think you forgot
about one of your clients, but if you’re truly a nymphomaniac,
you likely won’t find your next task too onerous.”



She reached down and stroked his cock, delighted that he’d
maintained his erection throughout their conversation,
for which she was sure she deserved the bulk of credit. She
positioned him at her opening and lowered herself. She
gasped at the contact. “As one nymph to another, I think
there’s a chance we might find an acceptable solution
to our mutually problem.” She sank her weight and felt
penetration.


He grunted. “All right, but with one condition.”


She cocked her head. “Yes?”


“You have to keep telling me what you’re thinking,
what you’re feeling.”


She laughed. “I feel one super fine cock stuffed up my
pussy.”


“Is that a good thing?”


She giggled. “Oh-h-h yes.” She forced herself down,
pushing him deeper. “It’s very, very good.” She
started bouncing, her motions creating a delightful friction
between cock and vagina. She gasped, picking up her pace.



It suddenly dawned on her that she was fucking him, not the
other way around. She was in command. Teasing a cock with
her tongue, although terribly exciting, only took care
of the man’s needs, no matter how long you tortured him.
Cookie had been tormenting her from the moment she’d
gone to her knees. It was payback time.


“You stopped talking, ” he whispered, his voice hoarse.



“Shut up, slut.” She slowed, tossing her head from
side to side. “My wet pussy owns that cock of yours and
won’t stop fucking it until it cums. Deal with it.”



She braced her feet on the floor, rocking up and down. “Do
you hear that squishing noise, Cookie? That’s the sound
a wet pussy makes as it slides up and down a cock; your cock.”
She paused, catching her breath. “Feels good, doesn’t
it? So good that it’s making you desperate to cum; to drop
your load.” She shut her eyes. “You’re so close.
Mm-mm yes, good pussy. So very, very close.”


She fucked him in long slow strokes, hoping her babbling
was affecting him as much as it was her. If he didn’t cum
soon, she’d do it without him. “Please, Cookie, I need
to feel your cock cum inside me. That’s what pussies were
made for. Please cum. I want it so bad.”


Growling, he grabbed her by the hips and pulled her down
on his cock, holding her there. “OK bitch, if it’s cum
you want, it’s cum you get.”


She felt his muscles flex and throb. He let out a fierce growl
as his cock let loose. She need not wait any longer. “Oh
fuck, YES! That’s it Cookie; fill my pussy. Make it yours.”



Her climax went on and on as their loins collided, consummating
the dance that men and women have done since their species
began. She smiled inwardly. Not only had she been fucked
again, she’d gotten answers to her questions. Grateful
for both, she leaned forward and kissed him—for a very
long time.


Later that night she lay in her bed reminiscing. She’d
just had fantastic sex with her fourth man in three days,
leaving three guys to go. Which should she fuck next? With
a whole summer to go, the order didn’t really matter,
only the frequency. As camp whore, she doubted frequency
would be an issue. Rubbing herself, she contemplated her
next move.



Hope you enjoy my erotic fantasies. I welcome all comments, good or bad, and why.

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Member Responses Post Your Comment

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Excellent, well written series.

12/8/2011

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Wow, Wild read, hope she discovered the Pill very soon
though

12/9/2011

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Is there any more about camp ?

12/9/2011

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got to tell us more

1/22/2012