Sex & Summer Camp

I sighed deeply as I unpacked the last of my toiletries onto the little wooden shelf in my corner of the cabin. It was the first day of a long summer, and while I was excited to begin my third year as a Counselor at Camp Chipewana, I was still smarting from being dumped out of the blue the night before. I had been with Lauren for 18 months, and it had always been perfect. We were even planning to share an apartment on campus for senior year. As I straightened the quilt on my bed and folded my clothes neatly in my trunk, I thought about the events of the preceding night, my last night in the city before two months in rural Vermont.

We’d had dinner at a sushi place – her favorite – and after a few too many glasses of sake, we’d gone back to my house and had amazing sex on the couch for an hour while my parents were out at some benefit dinner. Then, on her way out the door, she told me it wasn’t working for her and there was someone else, someone from her theater internship. I’d cried and pleaded, but she told me this girl – this woman, actually, as she was in her thirties, way older than Lauren – was right for her and that she’d been thinking about breaking up with me for some time. I didn’t get much sleep and had to be up at the crack of dawn for my bus to Lakerton. Now, as dusk was setting in, most of the campers had arrived, settled in, and were in the big wooden auditorium that served as both a stage and a dining hall eating pizza and drinking ‘bug juice’. I checked my reflection in the dusty old mirror hanging from a single nail on the cabin door. Not bad, I thought, for a girl who just got dumped. My eyes were slightly puffy from hours of crying the night before, but other than that, I was surprised by how good I looked. The daily trips to the gym were paying off. I wore a white wife-beater that showed off my abs and shorts that showed off my trim thighs. I smirked to myself as I let the cabin door bang behind me. A lot of the other Counselors were lesbians, whether out of the closet or not. Maybe I’d get lucky this summer and forget all about Lauren.

As I entered the noisy, crowded auditorium, I spotted Janie and Max, the owners and directors of Camp Chipewana. Janie waved me over with her clipboard. She was a strange little woman who dressed like a hippie and wore a big flower in her hair. “Lydia! Darling! Welcome back!” she gave me a big hug. “You’re late; your campers are almost done with dinner. Don’t worry though – Samantha has been keeping an eye on them.” She motioned to a table in the back of the room. I could see Samantha’s flame red hair over the sea of heads. I’d known Sam for years, back when we were both campers. She was three years younger than me so we weren’t exactly friends but we got along. Now, about to start her freshman year of college, she was a Counselor-in-Training, assigned to help me run my cabin and keep the kids in line. She had always been funny-looking – tall, skinny, and gawky, with lots of freckles. Her parents had home-schooled her through high school since they lived in the middle of nowhere in New Hampshire, so she was a bit socially awkward and was the butt of jokes when she didn’t understand slang or pop culture references. Her taste in clothes had always been slightly out of the ordinary. She was perfectly nice though, so I was relieved when Janie and Max had assigned her to me. I was in for a surprise, however, when I got to the table and saw Sam for the first time in a year.

“WOW!” I exclaimed as she stood up to give me a big hug. “Hi! You’ve changed!” She giggled and took a step back to let me inspect her. Gone was the lanky girl I’d known since we were kids. She’d grown into her body and looked amazing. Her red hair and freckles had taken on a Julianne Moore-like quality, making her look beautiful instead of awkward. She’d filled out since last summer – her legs were still ten miles long but they weren’t skinny, they were toned and lean. Most of all I noticed her breasts. Last year she’d been flat as a pancake. Now her large, full, round breasts strained against the thin cotton of her thin grey Camp Chipewana t-shirt, her nipples showing as she clearly wasn’t wearing a bra. I was getting a little wet despite myself. I couldn’t take my eyes of her chest; she’d gone from an A to at least a C in a year. “You look so great!” I stammered, my eyes wide. She noticed my shock and giggled.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I finally got boobs. It took long enough,” she laughed, cupping her breasts in her hands. I felt my panties get even wetter watching her nipples harden to her touch. She was still obviously socially retarded, and didn’t know that you shouldn’t fondle yourself in public. Whatever, I liked the show and I wasn’t going to tell her to stop.

For the first few days of camp, I couldn’t concentrate on anything but Samantha. All thoughts of Lauren were banished – this total knockout was living in my cabin! I was in heaven. Her bed was next to mine; sometimes I’d catch myself staring at her while she was sleeping. Luckily, since she didn’t know the rules of propriety, she changed her clothes out in the open, right in front of me. Our 12-year-old campers didn’t really care, but I certainly did. I loved watching her peel off her little t-shirts and stand topless in the middle of the cabin, looking for her swimsuit. Her breasts were perfect – pale white with a few cute freckles, large pink areolas and pointy nipples. I wanted to suck on them more than anything. I would touch myself in the shower just thinking about my tongue on her breasts, licking and sucking. As far as I knew, Sam was oblivious to my huge crush on her.

Things changed between me and Sam on the first weekend of camp. The kids were all gone for two days, on a hike through the hills. They’d be sleeping in tents and roasting marshmallows. Luckily, Janie and Max only took the Head Counselors with them to supervise, leaving us college kids to do what we wanted for two whole days. Most of the Counselors had taken the bus to the nearest town to the movies or bars. I was tired and decided to stay behind and relax by the lake for the weekend. Sam had decided to stay too. On Saturday evening, after a quiet day of reading on the shore of Lake Chipewana, I returned to the cabin. I found Sam curled up on her bed, sobbing.

“What’s the matter Sam?” I immediately rushed to her and draped my arms around her.

“Don’t worry about it. You can’t help.” She hid her face in her pillow. I stroked her back slowly, feeling her delicate shoulders all the way down to her perfect hips.

“Well, tell me anyway, I don’t like to see you upset.”

She sat up and wiped her tears away. She still looked beautiful, even with tears running down her cheeks. As usual, she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her nipples were hard, pointing at me through her tank top. She was wearing the tiniest, shortest shorts I’d ever seen. For a moment I thought I glimpsed her red bush as she crossed her legs.

“Something’s wrong with me. I’m not normal,” she sobbed.

“What do you mean?” I stroked her back again.

“Well, I’ve never kissed a boy.”

I laughed. “Sam, you didn’t go to high school. You’ve never even had the opportunity to meet boys, let alone kiss them. You’re starting college in two months, and you’re a total knock-out. The boys won’t be able to keep their hands off you.”

I thought I was comforting her, but she just started crying again.

“That’s not what I mean though! I don’t think I want to kiss boys. Like this morning I saw Angela coming out of the lake. She was wearing a really skimpy bikini. I don’t know why but I couldn’t stop staring at her. I could see her nipples and her body was all wet and she was dripping. It just seemed really beautiful. She saw me staring. I was practically drooling. She came over to me, really angry, and asked if I was a dyke. I don’t know what that means! What if it’s true?”

She was crying harder this time. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“Wait, wait. You don’t know what that means?”

She shook her head.

“It’s not a nice word but it means a girl who likes other girls as more than friends,” I smiled, smoothing back her hair which was stuck to her face with her tears. I was hoping I was sending the right signals.

She stopped crying and stared into my eyes. “Like you, right?”

I nodded and smiled. I didn’t care if she knew. At that moment all I wanted to do was kiss her and touch her and taste her. I had an idea.

“Want to see if you like kissing girls?” I asked. I knew it was wrong, and that I was taking advantage of a naïve girl, but I couldn’t’ help it. She was so beautiful and I could feel myself getting extremely wet.

“I don’t know how, what if I can’t do it?” She was shy and quiet. I took her face in my hands and brought her lips to mine. We kissed with mouths closed.

“Is that it?”

“No. This time, open your mouth and use your tongue. Just try and explore my whole mouth with it.” We kissed again. She was a natural, her tongue probing but not too forcefully. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I started to moan and moved my hand up to the bottom of her t-shirt. “Is this ok?” I asked, moving my hand slowly up her toned stomach towards her breasts.

“Mmm, yeah, I like this,” she said softly. Finally, after a week or torture, I was touching her delicious breasts. My hands moved over them, caressing them, pinching her nipples. Now she was moaning harder. “Mmmm, that feels so good. Keep going, more,” she said breathily. I lifted her shirt over her head. I stopped kissing her and sat back, staring at her perfect rack. “You’re so sexy, Sam,” I said, dipping my head towards her breasts and catching a nipple in my mouth, licking and suckling it. She moaned harder as her breath sped up. As I worked both breasts with my hands and mouth, she let out a yelp.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Well - - umm – I like this but something’s wrong. My…ummm…down below is getting all wet.”

I laughed out loud. “That’s normal. Mine is too. It means you’re happy. Here, I’ll show you how good it can be.”

I unzipped her little shorts and helped her slip out of them. As I had imagined, she didn’t shave. Her bush was bright red and very full.

“Sorry…” she started. I didn’t care. I was dripping wet and had to touch her. I slipped a finger into her slit as she gasped out loud. I moved it up and down, teasing her, feeling how deliciously soaking wet she was, turning her on slowly but surely. I kept it up as she writhed on her bed. I started fingering her harder, with two fingers, concentrating on her clit. She was breathing so hard I thought she would faint from pleasure.

“Oh! Lydia! Oh my god!!! That feels – so- so – so – gooood!” She moanded as I probed further. My pussy was so wet. I wanted to taste her. I threw her down on her bed and positioned myself above her thick bush, now with little droplets all over it. I started licking slowly around her lips until I could tell she needed more. I went in, licking her hard, over and over until she started bucking her hips. Soon I was fingering her clit while tonguing her. She was writhing and pinching her huge, hard nipples. Her eyes were closed – he was in her own world of pleasure.

“Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!” She screamed as she came. Her orgasm seemed to last forever. “That was the best thing that ever happened to me,” she smiled. “I think I do like kissing girls. But now I want to learn how to kiss you – down there.”

The weekend was a blur as I taught her everything. By Sunday she was licking me out like her favorite ice cream. But that’s another story.