Melissa Smith Jones Ch 03

I.Melissa and Jane in a Café in New York

"I tell you it's what all men want. You cannot give him a better present!" Jane said.

"Have you done it for Geoff?" I asked.

"No, Geoff is one of the rare exceptions to the rule. It would not work for him. Your lover Nigel, though, will go nuts. In a good way, I mean. He'll be hard and he'll take you by force," she said.

"He already does that," I said. "Almost on a daily basis."

"Twice on Sundays?" Jane asked.

"Yes, we have a matinee, and then an evening performance. But Jane, not only do I not see the point, but I'm not like you. I'm not an accomplished writer," I said.

"I'm not a writer. I'm a reporter for the Village News. It doesn't even pay my bills," Jane said.

"You're good at it though."

"Flatterer," Jane replied. She let the subject drop, but I thought about it. Maybe Jane had a point? Nigel always did seem interested in my past. Jane and I discussed this and that, and I raised the subject again myself.

"How would it be different than just telling him verbally in bed?" I asked. Jane knew what I was asking about, all right.

"Part of the thrill is the illicit discovery. Reading it and you not even knowing he's found it!" she said.

"He wouldn't find it. He doesn't snoop. He gives me more privacy than anyone I've ever known. He really is a prince among men," I said.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head my friend. I can easily arrange for him to find it. I'll use Geoff," Jane said, a big smile on her face. Geoff is my lover Nigel's brother and Jane's current true love. Jane goes through lovers at the same rate that I need new heels put on my shoes, but Geoff is a keeper. It's not just his monster cock, admittedly a huge attraction for Jane. No, for Jane, he is by far the best man she has ever been with. Put simply, Geoff is a good man.

I was the first of the two of us to enjoy his monster cock and while I felt guilty for fucking the brother of my true love I still loved it and boy would I like to enjoy it again! Of course, I never will. A girl just does not go around routinely sleeping with the brother of her true love. It's just not done, no matter how amazingly special fucking him is. And it is special. It truly is.

I did not tell Jane but that very day I decided to do it. I wanted to give Nigel a present he would love. What do I start with? Do I tell it in order, or randomly according to the muse inside me? Writing them down is kind of a way to relive them (Jane said that), so maybe I should begin with the most erotic one? Or the one with the man I loved the most? Or the raunchiest one? The sexiest one? Sexiest for me, or for what I imagine what would be sexiest for Nigel?

What do men like, anyway? What do they find sexy? Not my love for another man, and not men that made me cum repeatedly, since I imagine they don't like competition. Oh wait. This is obvious, isn't it? Nigel was always trying to get me to show off my body when I met him in Juan-les-Pins, in France. He loved letting other people, men and women both, see my bare boobs, and even more when he fucked me naked and bound in front of a dozen windows facing our hotel room window.

Nigel likes that. He likes to expose his women, to humiliate them. In this case 'his women' is the same as 'his woman' and it is me. At least I hope it is the singular of women! It had better be if Nigel wants to keep his balls in tact! He does return to England a bit too often for my taste. I wonder if he has some tart he keeps under a rock in the West End of London somewhere?

Yes, I'll start with that story. It's not my first time having sex, that occurred much too young and I'll never tell anyone about those times when I was jailbait, and there were quite a few of them. It was my mature body coupled with my immature mind, you see. I'm a girl who has trouble saying the word 'no.' I'll call this first part of my sex diaries 'Summer Camp.' It'll be easy. I'll just write down exactly what happened.

II.Summer Camp

It all began when I was young and stupid. I was a teenager, barely 18 at the time. I was in love with this guy and well, we were intimate. We were intimate about as often as we could find a place to be alone for 20 minutes or more. Twenty minutes was all it took. Derek was a fast worker.

Summer came and we were apart. It was the summer before college and I had a job as a counselor at a summer camp for younger children. Derek was back in our home town, working at a summer job, trying to earn some money to help with astronomical college expenses which would begin in September.

Derek pressured me constantly to send him some sexy pictures. I sent him a selfie of myself topless. Seeing a picture of myself like that turned me on something fierce. I jilled off to my own picture of myself quite a few times. (Should I admit that? I've never told anyone about how I jill off all the time, least of all Nigel. I'll check with Jane on that score.)

Derek wanted more. He told me what he wanted. To give him the next picture I would need help. This was a problem because the other girl counselors would not have understood. I'm sure they were all virgins and they wore their morals on their sleeves. It was a Christian Camp you see, and my other pious fellow female counselors were prissy prudes who prayed every night.

Don't get me wrong, we all prayed, myself included. It was just that I did it simply because I had always done it, it was habit, and it was expected, but my other friends up there at camp truly meant it. They all believed it. They had drunk the Kool-Aid, you see.

That was fine with me. They were good people and I liked them and they liked me. Live and let live, and all that. The point was, however, that they would never understand a request to help me take a picture of myself in the pose Derek wanted.

I had to look elsewhere for help. There were two possibilities. The male counselors, or somebody in the small rural town near the camp. The male counselors were all religious, too, but even pious, religious teenage men had different ideas about sex than did the girls, or at least I assumed that from the way some of the boys looked at me when I dressed certain ways.

The people in town were strictly off limits, and if I tried something there I would get in big trouble. I ruled out that idea.

At times I dressed differently than the other girls. I was the only girl who wore miniskirts. I was the only girl who occasionally wore a T shirt with no bra underneath. I could tell from the looks of a few of the boys that they were no virgins, either. The way they looked at me turned me on, but it would have grossed out or frightened any of my fellow female counselors had it happened to them!

I should explain about my T shirt. It had shrunk when I washed it. This made it cling to my body and in particular to my boobs. To more adult eyes I probably looked a bit obscene, with the T shirt outlining my boobs and my nipples poking fiercely at the thin cotton. I felt okay with it, but I underestimated the effects such a clingy T shirt combined with no bra would have on the boys. Those effects were considerable and I could see them via the lumps in their pants.

The most dramatic difference between the other girls and me was seen at the swimming hole. Some of the girls had two-piece bathing suits. It's hard for a two-piece bathing suit to look frumpy on a curvaceous 18-year-old girl, but most of my friends somehow managed it.

I was impressed. They had not even tried to look frumpy. They just did. The majority had one-piece suits, and those were a tad sexier. Girls look sexy in swimsuits, no matter what the suit, if the viewer is an 18-year-old boy!

My suit however stood out. I wore a bikini. It was not a two piece per se, although it did have two parts. Each part was miniscule, however, covering a bit more than the bare minimum required by common decency. When I was on lifeguard duty, sitting high up on a chair, all the boys older than 12 at the camp would eye me with lust in their eyes and God only knows what was present in their good, Christian hearts.

Then there was "the incident." I was on lifeguard duty. One of the younger boys went swimming too soon after eating and cramped up. He was going down. The other kids thought he was faking, pulling a stunt, and they laughed at him. I had received serious lifeguard training however and I could tell it was real.

I dove right off the lifeguard's chair, which was an eight or nine-foot dive, swam quickly to the boy and saved his life, pulling him out of the water. I hovered over him making sure he was okay and breathing air. I pushed up and down on his chest in the prescribed way. He spit up quite a bit of water and then vomited up his lunch. I stayed with him, talking to him, comforting him, until I was sure he was okay.

It was only when he was okay that I realized I was topless. I was surrounded by boys and all of them, every single one, was staring at my tits. One boy handed me my top, saying "This fell off when you dove." I thanked him and put it on.

Now that I was covered, all the kids went to shake my hand and congratulate me. That night at assembly I was congratulated for saving a life, "even given my circumstances." The entire camp knew of my "wardrobe malfunction," with my swimming suit top. It was the talk of the camp.

At the time I was so focused on the boy I was saving I was unaware I was topless. This was a little surprising because my boobs even back then were a bit generous in size and tended to bounce a bit when I was topless. I guess I had lasered in my attention on that poor little boy's life. Once I realized I was almost naked in front of everyone, though, I was not embarrassed nor ashamed. I acted with extraordinary aplomb.

I earned a lot of respect for my aplomb during "the incident," but secretly I knew it was undeserved. To my great surprise I was thrilled to have exposed myself like that to everyone. I almost had an orgasm even without touching myself. I knew what one was, because one time (and only one time) Derek's cock had given me one. All my others to that date had come from my fingers and were orders of magnitude weaker.

I could see the desire and the lust in the male counselors' eyes. I wondered if they could see it in my eyes? I began to wear my T shirt with no bra combination more often, especially when I knew I'd be in close quarters with the male counselors. My excuse would come from washing all my bras. They'd be wet, and I'd have none of them to wear. That predicament happened only to me. None of the other girls would wash all of their bras at once.

One night the boys pulled a panty raid. They 'stole' a bunch of panties from us girl counselors, but in my case, they stole all but one of my panties and all but one of my bras. I assume it was because my bras and panties were sexy. They were made of lace and cut to be flattering to anyone who got me into a state of undress where he would see them. The other girls' underwear was granny style.

The other girls' bra and panties were still underwear nevertheless and had the property that it had graced the girls' boobs and pussies and that was enough I guess to get the boys to want to steal them. The girls got their underwear back in two days. All the girls did, that is, except for me. The boys kept mine. it was nice of them at least to leave me one bra and one panty.

I had to wear the same bra and the same panties every day. Whenever I would wash them, which was frequently, I had no underwear to wear. I would go without a bra and without panties. Every time I went braless I could see desire in every single one of the male counselors' eyes. Hopefully they did not know I was actually full on commando.

I wondered which one I could ask to help me with Derek's picture? It might not be so hard, now that they had all seen my tits, from "the incident." Seeing the reaction of some of the boys on laundry day when I went braless (and pantiles too, but that was less obvious), I figured I would ask one of them to help me with the pictures Derek wanted of me.

I was still narrowing things down as to the choice of a boy when I was ambushed. I was wearing my T shirt and no bra combination, along with short shorts. By good fortune, I was wearing my only pair of panties. I was walking behind the cafeteria building on my way to the kitchen where I worked as a kitchen girl when Mike surprised me. He seemed to come from nowhere, jumped in front of me, wrapped his arms around me and pulled me flush against him. He kissed me.

I was horny, since I was used to a steady diet of sex with Derek back home, and as such I was vulnerable, and I ended up kissing him back. His hands went under my T shirt and began to fondle my boobs. Instead of protesting indignantly as we were all taught to do when "boys would be boys," I moaned.

Derek released me and then he took my hand and led me to a small grove of trees where we had a little - not a lot - of privacy. I just passively followed him. This was the beginning, I guess, of a life of being submissive with men. We resumed kissing, and a few minutes later my T shirt was bunched up around my neck. This was okay with me, since after all he had seen my boobs, everyone had, during "the incident."

There were some differences, however, since nobody had fondled my boobs nor tweaked my nipples, nor given me such amazingly sexy kisses. The next thing I knew my shorts were being unbuttoned and unzipped. I just looked at Mike as if I were a spectator. Mike pushed down my shorts and pulled my T shirt over my head and resumed kissing me with me standing there like an idiot kissing him back and wearing only my panties. It never even occurred to me to protest or to try to stop him.

My panties had been the talk of the girl counselors. They all wore white granny panties, whereas I wore sexy lace panties in beige, blue, black, and red. They knew this because I would hang them on the common laundry lines to dry in the open air. My panties were even the talk of the camp for a while. Such talk among the girls was always accompanied by nervous giggling.

Zachariah (Zach) and Ezekiel (Zeke) unbeknown to me were watching Mike and me go at it. They watched rather closely, themselves not too well hidden just beyond the small grove of trees where Mike and I were making out. When Mike's hand went inside my panties and began to push them down while he fondled my bare ass, I finally woke up from what I now know in retrospect must have been a submissive trance-like state. I woke up to what we were doing, and I stopped it.

Mike respected my demands to stop and he let me get dressed. That's when I asked for the favor. I had it all thought out, too. I explained it all to him while he was rock hard and hopefully turned on. I was also aware that Zach and Zeke were 'secretly' eavesdropping on us. Mike was surprisingly enthusiastic, even when I explained I was doing it for my boyfriend Derek back home and certainly not for him, although from his standpoint I guess he figured that he might benefit too.

"Have you done it with Derek?" Mike asked me.

"Done what?" I asked. Sometimes boys have such poor pronoun reference!

"You know, Melissa," he said.

"No, I don't know," I said.

"What some people do before marriage, even though we're not supposed to," Mike said, and he looked horribly embarrassed.

"Mike, you should never ask a girl a question like that!" I said.

"So does that mean that you have done it with him?" he said, ignoring my reprimand.

"Do you mean have we had sex, have I given him a blowjob, have we fucked? Maybe you want to know what positions we used? Did he fuck me up the ass? Is that what you're trying to ask me, Mike?" I said, showing my irritation as clearly as I could.

"Yes, that's exactly what I was trying to ask," he said. He wasn't sneering. The man was sincere! You can find boys like Mike exclusively at Bible camp.

I wanted to say, "Go to Hell, Mike," but I didn't because I needed him for the favor. Instead I lied and just said, "No. Of course not, and you are an asshole for even thinking such things of me, let alone asking them!"

Zach and Zeke were recording our conversation on their iPhones or Samsungs or whatever and they had taken pictures and videos of us making out and my almost naked body. They didn't know that I had seen them doing it. I was so turned on by having the two voyeurs there that I almost let Mike get me naked and have his way with me, just to put on a better show.

That's when I realized I was different from normal people. I already knew of course I was hopelessly different from the other girls at our bible study camp but I also knew that most people did not spend their summers studying the bible. Had I done what I felt like doing, Mike would have become my fifth lover, after Derek and the three boys who preceded Derek.

Zach and Zeke's pictures of me included Mike's hands all over me with me nearly naked save for my flimsy lace panties. Those pictures made the rounds of the male counselors. Soon my body held few mysteries for those boys. To everyone's surprise, and not least of all mine, I loved it.

Of course, everyone knew the male counselors could see the bodies of all sorts of naked women with a minimal effort using the Internet. I realized though that it had to be special to see pictures of an almost naked girl who was actually present, there at your summer camp!

I could see it in their eyes when they looked at me. They were undressing me in their minds. I found it to be delicious. I loved being their center of attention and I loved even more being their object of desire.

When it came time for the pictures for Derek, I bribed Mike into helping me. I did not specify his bribe, saying just that it would be his 'reward' for helping me. We took a long hike to a remote spot in the woods. I undressed to my panties. Mike tied my hands behind my back, and he took pictures of me standing like that, both front and back.

Next, he tied me spread eagle to a tree, and took some pictures. Mike suggested that Derek's next request would be that I was to be naked in the pictures.

"You know, you're probably right," I said. "Could you remove my panties? My hands are tied."

"Sure thing, Melissa," he said, and Mike removed my panties.

He could not resist stroking my slit. I said, "Mi-ike," trying to show a seductive exasperation with him. It worked and he stopped molesting me so blatantly.

We did the same poses but now with me naked. Mike was enjoying seeing me naked just a bit too much.

"It will look sexier for Derek if your pussy is dripping wet, don't you think?" Mike asked.

"Good point," I said. "This is a lot to ask, I know, but would you be willing to finger me a bit to get me wet? I'll make your reward a good one!" Mike gave a big smile when I gave him this green light to molest me.

"Deal," Mike said and he clumsily fingered me. I think it might have been the first time he had fingered a girl. Fortunately, I was already wet just from the situation. I figured Zach and Zeke were somewhere hidden in the trees watching us and probably taking pictures, too. That made me even wetter.

I was thrilled Mike was so into me, even though I realized he may have been into any girl who was willing to do with him what I was doing. It was not 'me' per se, but just a horny teenage boy getting the chance to molest a naked teenage girl!

When I became dripping wet and totally aroused Mike finally stopped fingering me and took the pictures a third time. As he finished he said, "I'd like my reward now, Melissa."

I went over to him, undid his belt, unsnapped his jeans, unzipped them, and pushed them down. I pushed his briefs down too and I saw the fifth erect cock of my life. (I'm not counting porn videos, of course.) It was thrilling. I held it gently in my hand and kissed his ball sack. I took his balls in my mouth while I played with his cock. I moved my mouth to the tip and swirled my tongue around the end of his cock.