Readers: All characters in this fictional story are 18 and over. This story is VERY loosely based on a story I was told several years ago while visiting a nudist resort. I chose to write it in the 1st person.
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As a kid of 20 during the summer of 1980, I was the typical guy that had graduated high school, got his Associates Degree from Junior College, and was working a full-time job barely making above minimum wage.
My name is Walter Hampton, although everyone has called me Wally as far back as my memory allows.
My parents helped with my education, as much as they could, but it was my aunt that insisted that I at least get an Associate's Degree to show on my resumes when looking for long-term employment. She backed up her convictions by covering nearly most of mine and my older sister's JC education.
It was during that summer that I met Candace (or Candy as she was known to all her friends).
Meeting Candy was the one singular event that triggered a chain of events that shaped my life.
I had been working as a fry and prep cook at a local diner that catered to families as well as the truckers that stopped by for a bite on their road trips.
It was open 24/7, including all holidays. My boss, Calvin Hester, was the owner and he poured his life into making Cal's Diner the popular place that it was.
I worked the graveyard shift, 10pm - 6am from Tuesday through Saturdays. Most nights I worked alone so I never got a real meal break, although I still had to clock in and out for them.
Cal was fair, though. He knew I could complain to the labor board but instead he allowed me to eat my meals at no cost and to even take home a breakfast if I wanted. Comparing the value of the meals vs. the loss of a half-hour pay, I came out way ahead on the deal.
It was during my vacation during that summer that I met Candy. Our church needed counselors to go church camp. The job wasn't too tough...be in a cabin with 7 boys ages 10-12...and make sure they got to bed on time and got up on time.
During the day, the activities staff and chapel leaders took care of the rest. I had been to this camp in the past when I was a young teen and loved the area.
It was nearly 7000 feet in elevation and was surrounded by trees and creeks.
The facility they used was first class. For the campers, the cost was 150 per camper. For me? Absolutely free for simply making sure my 7 boys were well-behaved for a few hours each day. The rest of the time was my own.
There were some rules for all of us. The biggest rule was that NO electronic devices such as transistor radios or any kind of big boom boxes were allowed on the site. The purpose was to disconnect the kids for 5 days from any outside influence. Even newspapers were banned.
The first day there, I met my 7 kids. I knew 4 of them. The other 3 were friends of the others. They were good kids, although typically equipped with the attention span of a house fly.
We sat in the outdoor amphitheater while nearly 300 children and adults listened to some basic camp orientation. The rules, meal times, play times, chapel times, etc. were covered.
As with most camps, the boys and girls sleeping and showering buildings were on opposite ends of the large complex. They could interact all they wanted during meal and activities time, but once it was 8:30 pm, they had to get back to their cabins, get their showers, and lights out by 10:00pm...no exceptions. Fortunately, I never had a problem with my boys.
The counselors had their own private shower building. It was customary for the counselors to get their showers during the day when their kids were involved in study classes and activities. We needed to be in the cabins to make sure the boys were in bed on time.
That first night, I was sitting at the end of a long table with my group and a tall, lean, leggy brunette sat across from me.
We were eating spaghetti that night and we kept looking at each other and laughing as we'd sip our spaghetti and have the sauce splash against our faces.
We were easily amused at how silly we both looked. We kept making sillier faces. It almost was like a contest.
This was nothing different about eating spaghetti than any other time, but there was a mutual attraction and the faces she made caused me laugh.
That was Candy. She was with a group that lived just 15 miles north from where I worked. Candy Adams.
She wasn't the classic beauty, although she was very easy on the eyes. Her thin face, large mouth, and big toothy smile was so adorable to me.
After dinner, we stood and talked for a while. Like myself, she wasn't too involved in her church, but couldn't turn down the opportunity for a free vacation. She was 21 at the time and this was the second year in a row for her to serve as a counselor.
My suspicions were correct. The job was easy. Also, the people at her church had known her long enough to trust her, much like mine did.
I tried not to stare, but she had on gym shorts that barely passed the dress code for camp. The evenings were known to be rather cool, even during the summer. I was wearing shorts, but I had planned on changing into some sweatpants before evening chapel services.
It was hard not to notice her long legs and small butt. She wasn't that large up top, but from what I could tell, it didn't appear that she was even wearing a bra. As the weather cooled off, the hardness of her nipples became more prominent through her camp counselor's t-shirt...identical to the ones we all wore for the week.
On top of the free week, we all got 5 new t-shirts to wear. Easy work...and now I'd met a young lady that I hoped to get to know more then and later.
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From the beginning, it was apparent that my interest in her was being reciprocated. She suggested getting together during the evening chapel services. It was mandatory for the kids, but optional for the counselors; although many did go.
We agreed to meet outside at the amphitheater. That would give us nearly an hour to visit before the services were over and the kids were sent back to their cabins for showers and the strict 10pm bedtime.
This time, Candy was wearing a sweatshirt with the Parkland Camp logo on it. She still had on the same shorts, though. I tried not to stare at her long legs as well as remembering what she looked like in that t-shirt with apparently no bra.
Candy worked at a nearby oil production plant as a secretary. Her duties also included doing payroll for the oilfield construction company that owned the property adjacent to the Standard Oil lease.
She enjoyed her job and the interactions with the various salesmen, contractors, and workers that visited her office.
Her older brother worked for Standard Oil and helped her get that job. The company, Jerry's Construction, did most of their work for Standard and Shell. It was a job that kept her busy, but she enjoyed it, the pay, and benefits were adequate.
We discussed our jobs and our families. Her father was the Maintenance Manager for the Shaver School District. He was looking forward to his retirement in three years when he'd have his 30 years of service with the District.
Shaver was a relatively small district that encompassed a High School, Junior High, and an elementary school. All three schools were located on the same street. The high school was at the northern end and the junior high sandwiched between them and the elementary school on the far south end.
The maintenance building, the bus barn, and the administrative offices were across the street behind the schools.
Her mother worked part-time for the district as a teacher's aide. She had done that for almost 20 years.
Time went by much too fast. In the distance we could see kids and adults filing out of the indoor chapel.
"Let's meet back here at 10:30," Candy suggested. "Once the kids are out, we can do what we want. Same place?"
