August 11, 2022, marked one week since I'd left summer camp: not as a camper, but as a counselor, a job I picked up in the months following my graduation from high school. I previously worked as a barista but needed something farther from home, a change of scenery before I went off to college.
I'd heard horror stories about camp counselors slacking off, treating people poorly, etc., and I hoped I wouldn't be forced to work alongside such shitty people. Fortunately, I wasn't.
There were about ten of us counselors; by some miracle, not one of us was straight. We did our jobs during the day, bonding with the campers and having a lot of fun. After nine P.M., however, our fun matured, and we got momentarily high or drunk and messed around, only to wake up again at six A.M.
This particular evening, seven nights since I left, I found myself reminiscing over the memories I'd made at the camp with my fellow counselors. Of course, it'd be cute if these were all wholesome, innocent memories, but I couldn't help revisiting everything that went on in the dim light of the camp cabins, our bodies exposed to one another, hands exploring crevices belonging to friends we'd soon lose contact with.
My mind constantly retraced the experience I had on July 21, which marked what was quite possibly the best sex I've ever had.
7/21/22
Maia, Cora, and I were put on duty for the campfire; our tasks were mainly roasting marshmallows for the campers and ensuring no one fell into the fire. The campers all told stories, and I and the other counselors giggled quietly, speaking of trivial drama that occurred in our respective high schools, the ones we'd left just two months prior.
We let the campers stay up a little later than usual because the advisors weren't around to scold us for doing so. By ten P.M., we gathered the campers and led them to their area for bedtime, leaving the rest of the night for ourselves.
The three of us returned around the fire, physically tired but still full of energy. I sat on the ground, Cora sitting on a bench above me, braiding my hair. Maia sat adjacent to us.
Maybe I was just horny, but Cora's gentle caressing of my hair rekindled my attraction for her, and my stomach filled with butterflies. I must've blushed because Maia apparently noticed something.
"You guys are so gay for each other," she said, smiling at us over the embers.
I opened my eyes and definitely blushed then, trying to laugh to cover the fact that I was dreaming about Cora's hands touching something besides my head.
"I mean, if y'all are down," Cora began. "We have the night to ourselves..."
As the finished that sentence, she moved her right hand down to the side of my face, her left hand falling softly on my shoulder. I felt a hint of arousal travel through my body.