It was the summer of 1975, and I was trying to enjoy the month of August before the start of my senior year in high school. The two years previous, I worked as a lifeguard at a church summer camp. It was a good job, although the pay wasn't great. Still, I got to hang out at the pool all day and listen to my tapes, and all I had to do was go into town at the beginning of the week to buy groceries for the cooks, keep the pool and changing rooms clean, and watch the swimmers. There were three weeks of camp, one for pre-teen girls, one for pre-teen boys, and one co-ed week for the teenagers.
My prior summers at the camp had been uneventful. I had to pull a couple kids out of the pool when they failed their swimming test to go to the deep end. I'm pretty sure one of them, a 14-year old girl, faked her drowning so I would have to swim out and pull her in. Oh well, no harm in a little innocent flirting from her, but my interests lay elsewhere. I had fallen hopelessly in love with one of the girls who ran the snack stand. She was a drop-dead gorgeous blonde whose beauty was only surpassed by her laughter and luminous voice. We spent those first two years of camp holding hands, walking through the woods, and talking about our futures. Shanna, though, was devout in her religious beliefs, which included chastity, so our love was limited to kissing and holding each other tight. That is part of the reason I chose not to work at the camp my third year. Shanna was driving me wild. I wanted her so badly, but I didn't want to break her will and heap guilt on her for going against her beliefs. So I decided it was best for us both if I didn't work at the camp.
But then the phone rang. It was bad news. The camp director called to explain that someone had drown at the pool the previous week. A kid came down to the pool after midnight, when it was closed and unattended, climbed the fence and went for a swim. For reasons no one knew, he had drown, and the lifeguard who found the body the next morning was traumatized by incident and quit. The director asked if I could please come down and finish the last week of camp. I couldn't say no, so I grabbed some clothes and my speedo, jumped into my '64 Ford van, and headed for Camp Castle Rock.
The week started out fine. It was teen camp week, and most of the campers were unaware of the drowning. Soon things settled into the usual routine. I parked my van next to the pool fence, threw open the back doors (equipped with Jensen speakers), and fired up my 8-track player...blasting Loggins & Messina, The Allman Brothers, and the Eagles all day long. I worked on my tan and watched the swimmers. Life was pretty good. The camp was very conservative, and the boys and girls did not swim together. The tall chain link fence that surrounded the pool was laced with green and white strips of plastic that kept campers outside the pool from seeing in.
Moreover, the girls who wore bikinis (which was most of them) had to wear T-shirts over their suits. The camp administration intended to keep the girls from being arousing by showing too much flesh. Ironically, the T-shirt rule had the opposite effect on me. Something about those flimsy white cotton Tees clinging to the firm breasts and curves of the girls only served to arouse me more. After two or three hours of that sort of temptation, I was ready for a cold shower to take my mind off the bodies. I hadn't seen Shanna at the snack stand when I arrived, and I assumed somewhat hopefully that she wasn't working this year. At sunset, I cleaned the changing stalls quickly and went to the showers to wash up and change. The shower room was a large open space with several shower heads on the wall, opposite the changing stalls. I slipped off my speedo and lathered up with shampoo, turning my face into the stream of water...and away from the doorway.
I don't know how exactly, but I got the sense that I was being watched. Perhaps on some unconscious level a heard the quiet steady breathing of the girl...and felt the curious eyes that focused on my tanned, muscular back and buttocks. I wasn't really sure if anyone was there, but I decided to find out. Probably, I thought, it was some infatuated 14-year old like the girl last year.
"Hey, whoever you are, do me a favor and bring me that soap on a rope on the bench by the door, would you?"
I expected that to scare the beejeezus out of the young camper and send her scurrying back to the cabins, but there was no sound of running feet or girlish giggles after I spoke, only a soft feminine voice saying, "Okay," and the wet splishes of her feet coming toward me.
Now it was my turn to be startled. I decided not to turn around. Let her make the next move, I figured.
From behind me, on either side, came two slender arms...one with the soap on a rope. She began to rub the soap over my chest, lathering it well, and then moving down the torso with her soapy hands. The soap was dropped on the shower floor.
"I missed you," the voice said. "For two weeks I've been here wishing you would come back."
It was Shanna, of course, but her voice was different somehow. Deeper and more determined.
"Shanna, I've missed you too," I said. "But I just didn't think I could stand another summer not being able to make love to you. I mean, I respect your beliefs, but I needed more from our relationship."
Her hands became still on my belly, then slowly moved down, soaping my pubic hair and rising cock.
"I know," she replied, "and now I'm ready to give you more."
Her hands glided steadily up and down my shaft. Her left thumb she rolled over the top of my cock head as she came to the end of the staff. Then her hands slid lovingly down again, the fingers of her right hand reaching under my sack and rolling my balls in her hand. I could feel the wetness of her T-shirt as her breasts pressed against my back while she stroked me. "Oh, I've got to see more of this," I laughed, turning around to face her.
And there she was, her mid-length blonde hair slicked back and fastened in a ponytail, her wet T-shirt clinging to every graceful curve of her body. I had told her once about the effect the wet Tees had on me, and she remembered, but added a twist. There was no suit under her shirt. There she stood, her hands all foamy with soap, the transparent shirt concealing none of her beautiful breasts. Even the dark brown of her aureoles were easily seen, surrounding the erect nipples that pointed at me.
"The gate..." I started to say.
"...is locked," she finished. "Everyone is at the mess hall, and then there's chapel services. We have all the time in the world."
She raised her arms above her, and her T-shirt rose, her glistening dark blonde pubic hair fringed around her pussy lips. I lifted the shirt off and tossed it across the room, where it landed with a wet slap. Quickly we were in each others arms, lathering each other into a frothy lust. Her hands returned to my swollen dick, stroking more vigorously as she rubbed the glans against her belly, then plunging it between her tightly clenched together legs. I thrust repeatedly, running my turgid shaft along her pussy crack, not penetrating her, but driving her wild with the stimulation to her clittoris. She began to grunt in an urgent, animalistic way, clawing at my back as we thrust towards each other.
Soon her arms were around my neck and she pulled herself up toward me, kissing my mouth with a fury she had never displayed in the past. Her legs parted, wrapped around me, as she first raised up and then lowered herself onto my engorged cock. She screamed as she first impaled herself on me. Then she began grunting again as she pulled herself up and down.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, ugh, ugh, Ohhhh, urgh. Ahhhh. Yesyess, ugh.."
I brought my hands down to her ass, cradling her and lifting her up and down as I thrust my cock deep in her.
"Christ, Nick, over to the table," she commanded. I carried her to the table that sat near the shower door and laid her down on it. She threw her arms over her head and said. "Fuck me! Please, fuck me hard..." I pounded my cock into her, almost fearing my force would hurt her, but she wanted more. "Grab my tits, Nick," she said, panting. "twist them, pinch them hard."
This was something I had never seen in a girl before. Shanna wanted it rough. I had never been with a woman like that before. I roughly clawed and twisted her tits, and she responded in a fiery ecstasy. She beckoned to me to lay on her as she lifted her feet into the air. I bend over her, my feet still barely on the floor, hers pointing at the ceiling, and I joined her impassioned grunting as our pace quickened. She began speaking incoherently, first curses then calling on God and then in what I assumed was speaking in tongues. I felt her pussy tighten around my shaft, actually pulsing, and she screamed so loud I was afraid people would come find us.
"Ahshammalamatochtheonay!" she said, as her pulsing cunt milked me and I shot ropes of cum into her.
