Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Amateur

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 bahis firmaları 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 kaçak iddaa 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.

For a moment after, she was quiet, the only sound our measured breathing. I rose up and pulled out of her.

Her eyes burned into me with a fire that both excited and frightened me.

“More,” was all she said.

She spun around on the table and hung her head off the edge, gesturing for me to draw closer. Upside-down, she reached for my now flaccid member and, taking it, pulled me closer and took it into her mouth. She sucked on it hungrily, and soon I was stiff and fully extended again. She grabbed my ass in both hands and pulled me roughly to her mouth, deep-throating my full length. Then, as she rode me with her mouth and throat, the tongue-speaking began again.

“Onamalatakanomakio,” she whispered as she pulled the cock from her mouth, then drawing it in again. “Shoomalalalapacktoodee,” she seemed to say, although with my throbbing cock in her mouth it was hard to tell. Then the tongues turned to long, vibrating moans and hums, as she sucked desperately on my cock. I felt my nuts tingle and draw up toward my body, and she quickly pulled my jizzing cock free from her throat, aiming the cum on her face and breasts, then crawling under my crotch and sucking on my nuts as she stroked my shaft, making me come again.

“Geez,” I said panting, “Shanna, oh…”

“We’re not kaçak bahis done,” she said playfully, and hopped down off the table and lay across it, face down, with her ass aimed up at me.

“Oh, Christ, Shanna, I don’t know if I can…”

“Shaddup!” she said, in a wild, almost angry voice. “Come on, fuck my ass. You know you want to. I want your big dick all the way up me. I need to feel you there. I need it now!

I grabbed some suntan oil off a nearby chair and began oiling up her butt crack. I started by gliding my cock between her ass cheeks. She responded with moans and a whispered “more, more.” Finally I put the head of my raw, aching cock against her tight asshole, and pushed. At first it resisted and she seemed pained.

“Should I stop?” I asked, not wanting to hurt her.

“No, more,” was all she said.

I pushed more, and in it slipped in, oiled and long and hard. She grunted with satisfaction as I began pumping her ass. She wrapped her legs around two of the table legs and begged me to go harder and faster.

I did as she said, and drizzled more oil down her back and ass crack as I did. Then I began spanking her ass cheek on one side, then the other. That pushed her over the brink.

“Onakoimasheethaleemamica!” she bellowed. Then her whole body shook uncontrollably, in a seizure of pleasure that drove me again to climax. Nothing much left to shoot, but my aching cock throbbed as the endorphins coursed through me once more.

I pulled out and stepped back, catching my breath as I leaned with one hand on the doorway. Shanna, turned over, tears of joy in her eyes, and came over to embrace me.

“Thank you,” Shanna said. “I needed that. I’ve done a lot of thinking over the last year, and I really felt guilty and dirty because I had these feelings and desires, and I knew they were dirty and sinful and I should put them out of my mind. But I couldn’t. And I didn’t understand how if God could make us so sexual, how could he expect us not to give in to those feelings.”

“Well, are you going to be all right with this?” I asked. ” I mean, you aren’t going to beat yourself up over this or hate me or anything, are you?”

She smiled at me, that luminous smile that let me know she was fine.

“No, I think this is really a spiritual thing for me. I mean, my spirit and flesh became one. It’s a holy thing. And I want to thank you for helping me find it. You are like a prophet to me.” She kissed me and turned, walking outside toward the pool. “And if that boy Nathan hadn’t drown, you never would have come here. I needed you to come back. Nathan, he was just a boy, and of course he wanted to be here with me. It wasn’t so hard to do.”

Suddenly I realized something was terribly wrong.

“Shanna, what do you mean?” I said.

“Well, I needed you back, and I knew if something happened, an accident or something, that they’d call you back.”

“You mean you had something to do with that kid drowning?”

“Oh, I didn’t drown him. He couldn’t swim,” she said nonchalantly, “I just brought him down here and said if he came out into the pool with me I would, you know, give him a blow job. He drown himself. The way I see it, it was really God’s will.”

I managed to jump back into my pants and run up to the camp. After talking with the camp director and the police, I pieced the story together. Shanna, it turns out, ran away from home a month before. She had been living undetected in the woods near the camp, scavenging for food at night. The doctors diagnosed her as schizophrenic, and the camp hushed up the story. Shanna was sent off to a state facility and I never saw or heard from her again. But not a day goes by that I don’t think about her.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bir cevap yazın

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir