Thanks for all the positive feedback on 'Fulfilling Jamie' guys. This one is written in kind of the same vein, but the subject matter is a bit different. Before I get more confused letters, please note that I am a male writing from the female perspective... I don't know why, I just find female first person hot.
Disclaimer: The boys in this story are eighteen-year-old seniors in high school.
Special thanks to Suzanne Wright, who writes the best DP scenes in history.
I awoke to the cool breeze and salt-spray smell of ocean. I could hear the boys and girls on the other side of the campsite running around, getting ready for the big trip to Morro Rock and I sighed in relief knowing I had at least twenty more minutes before I had to be dressed and put up with any of them. It was Tuesday morning.
There was a knock on my cabin door, and a familiar voice chirped "Mrs. Lawrence?" I'd been divorced for three years now, but I never got around to changing my name back to Sue Ann Pierce... even though it still made my skin bristle to hear myself referred to under HIS last name.
"What is it Bobby?" I called back. I'd hoped he wouldn't just barge into my room, but just in case I pulled the rough campground sheets up to cover my naked breasts.
"Can I come in?" he called back, but he was already twisting the doorknob. I sighed.
"Come on in."
He stood in the doorway looking like the proverbial.. whatever it is that cats drag in. His unkempt black hair hung down to his cheekbones. His dark, Asian skin glistened from running around in the morning sun. His torn, baggy jeans and his faded knock-off Tommy t-shirt looked liked it had been through more than one of his brothers as it was handed down.
"What is it Bobby?" I asked, taking care to keep my forty year old body covered.
He stared at his shoes and nervously rubbed the nape of his neck. "Can I ask you a favor Mrs. Lawrence?"
"That depends on what it is," I smirked.
"Could you be the counselor for my group today?" he asked, embarrassed. "Some of the guys are joking about pushing me into the ocean because they know I can't swim. And I don't trust any of the volunteer counselors."
I smiled, flattered. "I'll see what I can do." I took one more look at my sad little student. Bobby was incredibly intelligent, but he was only a stick of a young man and unbelievably impoverished. It was the worst combination for any boy to live with trying to make it through public school. The other boys were all so mean to him, and nothing I could do was going to stop that. If only he had a little self confidence.
"Thanks Mrs. Lawrence," he smiled.
"Bobby, you shouldn't let the guys push you around so much. I think you should keep your head up more, and stand up straighter. I know how mean boys your age can be, but if you can at least look less scared, than they wouldn't give you such a hard time."
He groaned a little, under his breath. "I'll try," he muttered, uncommitted.
"Try it now!" I laughed. "Look me in the eye."
He slowly raised his face until our eyes met. It seemed to take all his effort to stay focused. He'd held it for a moment, but then his eyes would dart back downward.
I tried not to chuckle. "And take your hands out of you pockets. It makes you look scared."
"Ummm..." he started. His eyes kept bobbing between my gaze and the floor.
"NO 'ummms' from you," I responded. "It'll make you feel better, I promise." He took his hands out of his pockets. He was slouching worse than ever. "Come on, stand up straight Bobby."
Bobby stood up straighter, and that's when I realized I'd made a mistake. His bad posture, and his hands in his pockets weren't due to being shy... it was because he was trying to hide the erection that was tenting in his baggy jeans. I inhaled sharply, and took a long look at him... his eyes weren't darting to the floor. He was trying not to stare at my nipples, which had grown hard from the cold air, and were standing out against my sheets.
"Can I go now?" he asked, his cheeks a dark crimson.
"I think you should," I muttered. Now it was I who couldn't meet HIS gaze.
His hands returned to his pockets, and he hunched over again as he closed the cabin door behind him. And I sat in my cabin, alone and in the dark, trying to figure out why I was so wet.
...
It worked like this:
Every year, the three teachers in the grade level I taught sent their students to Camp Explorer in the san Simeon woods. It was a dense forest located about 35 miles north of Morro Bay California. We arrived on Monday and went home on Friday, and for many of the students this would be their first experience out of town without their parents, so obviously it was a big deal for all the students.
During Camp Week, one teacher would stay behind to take care of the students who weren't allowed to go, while the other two would follow the students to camp to act as supervisors and Counselors. The student body was then broken up into three groups at random, and separated amongst twelve same-sex cabins. Each cabin would be issued a counselor.
Since there were twelve cabins and only two teachers, we would spend the months prior trying to talk parents into volunteering to chaperone. We would also find college students studying for their teaching credentials, and they would volunteer in exchange for "work experience" credits. Every year it was a fight to make sure there were twelve counselors before we left... many times we weren't sure if there would be enough chaperones until the week before we were scheduled to leave.
This year was special for me though. I hate feeling good about this, but the week before we were scheduled to depart a particularly bad case of the flu virus swept through our school. Before I knew it, some eight kids had backed out of the trip due to illness. We left Monday morning with twelve chaperones, but only enough students to fill eleven cabins. Through a coin toss, I won the right to have a private cabin, and I would act as an extra counselor to one of the three groups, whichever I chose. Because of Bobby's pleading, I chose his group.
It was great having a cabin to myself this year. I hid a little bottle of Belvedere vodka in my luggage to keep me warm at night. I also snuck my little shoebox, my treasure chest, along for those cold nights alone. Inside was an assortment of my favorite toys and lubes to keep me occupied.
Being forty and single was admittedly hard. I'd started to dye my blonde hair a few years ago to hide the white that was creeping in. I was wearing more makeup to cover the new lines that seemed to appear daily. My bright blue eyes were turning a dull shade of gray. And my once firm and tight body was growing softer and curvier.
I'd gone on a few dates since my divorce, and even fooled around with a few men. But the fact that I was no longer a young woman, that I was no longer going to be fucked by some young stud, usually came crashing down on me following a few weeks of dating, and I'd brake it off. My nights were spent perusing stories on the internet and shopping for newer, bigger sex toys.
When we got off the bus at Morro Rock, all I could think about was getting back to my cabin tonight and trying out my new toy: it was a dual vibrator with a big thick dick that curved around into a slimmer dick, made to penetrate me both vaginally and anally at the same time. While I'd resigned myself to a life of masturbation and fantasy, I saw no reason I couldn't at least pretend I was being taken by two virile men.
The bus broke up into three groups... one would go up to the Falcon observatory at the rock, another to the tide pools around the sand, and mine and Bobby's group would explore the beach and observe the local sea lions, harbor seals, birds, and otters.
Bobby held a special place in my heart, far above the many young faces I had taught throughout the years. He was always so optimistic, always ready to answer and question. His father had left a few years back while his mother, an uneducated immigrant from the Orient, supported Bobby and his brothers on her meager earnings selling Mary Kay and what she could collect in food stamps. I'd caught Bobby once a few months back, bussing tables under-the-counter at a local trucker's diner, trying his best to pull his own weight. But he never missed class, and always turned in his assignments on time, so I never reported it.
As we strolled along the beach, Bobby trailed at rear of the pack with his only friend Josh. Josh was not a popular boy, but he wasn't picked on either. He was almost six feet tall, taller than my meager 5'6", with his blond hair in a flat top. His cheeks were perpetually rosy, and his western European heritage left him with skin as white as alabaster. He played football and baseball, and it left his young body hard, but it never seemed to provide him with a tan.
Josh and Bobby should have had nothing in common, and yet they were joined at the hip. Bobby had no other friends because of his station in life, but Joshua had no other friends because of his perpetual accompaniment of Bobby. And both, for whatever reason, were happy with this arrangement. I was just satisfied to know that Bobby had a little joy in his life.
...
I was daydreaming about tonight again when, about an hour into our walk, the students started hollering and chanting "Fight! Fight!" They had huddled into a large circle, while the camp guide and the other counselor tried to fight their way into the center. I stood on my toes to peak over their heads, and I wasn't surprised with what I saw:
TJ, one of the alpha-male rich kids, was pushing Bobby around and trying to make him cry. Josh was also trying to break into the center of the circle, screaming "Leave him alone or you'll be sorry!" but one of the counselors were holding on to his arm to keep him from following through on his threats.
Just as one of the college-aged students was about to step between TJ and Bobby, something shocking happened. Bobby balled up his little fist, and packed it into TJ's nose. A spray of blood splashed Tiffany, one of Mary's students, and she began screaming. TJ fell down.
"You're gonna regret that you little shit!" he spat. A counselor grabbed TJ and pulled him up, while another was dragging Bobby away. "Just wait 'til tonight!" he promised. "You just wait!"
Bobby started to cry.
...
