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They say that camp friends are for life, and certainly it feels that way when you're there. You're shut away from the world in a carefree, woodland paradise of sunshine and swimming and late night mischief, and it's enchanting. But it becomes tragically clear, soon after summer ends, that camp can't live on. Those of us who try, somewhat pathetically, to etch our youth by returning as counsellors learn the same lesson: the crisp air returns and so must we. And maybe when we're old enough to know this on some subconscious level, we make our summers away all the more exciting, all the more carefree. My last summer at camp was exciting indeed. I was nineteen.
Much like the kids we were there to supervise, we counsellors were split up by gender. I'm not sure if this was liability caution, but all of us were legal adults, if barely. Maybe it was to set an example; maybe it was simply an outdated holdover of prudish ideals; maybe it was a sowing of forbidden fruit. What the rules rarely take into account is that young people away from home after dark will always find a way to transgress in the most thrilling ways.
All summer I'd been meeting Shawn after lights-out for some illicit extracurriculars. He was the leader for Cabin A, and I was in charge of Cabin G, and the trek between was a minefield of potential disruptors, but that definitely gave the affair an added spark. We would meet at this flat rock behind the ice shack, use a hoodie for a headrest, and join in a breadth of petting that ranged from making out to hand-stuff. Just once, after we'd drained a bottle of Malibu, I blew him and he lasted only exactly as long as I felt like continuing. Gentleman that he was, he offered to reciprocate but I told him that was alright. It's not that I was so reserved (I'd lost my virginity two summers prior to a boy named André who did not return to camp again), I was just contentedly uninspired by Shawn. At the time, I found it confusing, and so did the other girls. He was over six-feet, had moody, dark eyes and wispy hair that likened him to your quintessential indie rocker. Plus he was genuinely nice. As for performance, he kissed very well but beyond that he was of limited talent. He would finger me the way you rotate a spatula around the circumference of a bowl, and he asked entirely too often if it felt good. I shuddered to think what his tongue might do if introduced to my lower body, so I upheld that barrier.
On our last night, he seemed to think he'd finally get called down to the majors, and he was visibly disappointed when I nudged him upward. I kissed him and bid goodnight, adjourning to Cabin G. All the counsellors had private rooms, but it had developed among the girls that we could access each others' freely, and when I returned I found Kelly, Jasmine, Daria, Tish, Nadia and Rachel waiting with champagne and avid expressions.
"So?" demanded Tish.
"So, what?"
"Did Shawn finally get his wish?"
I rolled my eyes and shook my head.
"Poor guy," said Kelly.
"He'll be fine," said Rachel, which I appreciated.
"Why are you all so invested in the Shawn thing anyway?" I asked.
"You're the only one who saw any action this summer," said Nadia.
"Not true," I argued. "Kelly was on the phone with Kellie every night."
It's true that Kelly's long-term girlfriend was named Kellie. They had a set phone call every evening at 9, and more than once one of us had walked in on Kelly in a state of compromise. Of course we'd apologize profusely, and invariably she reacted like it was nothing.
"That wasn't action," said Kelly, winking and adding, "The action happens tomorrow."
We wooed as expected.
Kelly was twenty-one, which earned her an authoritative role among us, but she only used it to offer support and advice - and occasional superiority. She talked about her relationship with Kellie the way old married people talk; describing them as homebodies with a sufficient if unadventurous sex life. Not that she was unfulfilled, although the summer away had to have created a longing they could use as fuel for their eager reunion.
You'll understand one day was a phrase she said often.
"At least someone's getting head this weekend," uttered Jasmine, who had a knack for saying the most inappropriate things without a trace of controversy.
We all laughed, and I added, "Shawn's available, if you're interested. Wouldn't bother me!"
"I'm interested, but less so in putting on shoes," resigned Jasmine.
"Who needs shoes and who needs Shawn?" This came from Kelly, who was less able to get away with such comments, though she tried.
"You want me to blow myself, Kel? I don't think I bend that way."
"You're surrounded by single women who might indeed be skilled in the area."
"I wouldn't know," said Tish.
I agreed. "Me neither."
"Wait," said Kelly. "You've never been with a girl? Have none of you?"
I admit I was as keen to learn this group-secret as anyone, and I felt comforted by the equality of our inexperience. Kelly's surprise was over-served, as if it was almost more scandalous that none of us had ever experimented as such. This was several years ago, and back then I could have been described as bi-curious, though I'd never admitted that to anyone. Older now, I consider myself bi-comfortable, which is to say I love men and I don't see that preference changing, but there have been a few itches in my life I've only ever had scratched by girls, and it just doesn't seem sensible to rule anything out.
"I sucked a tit once," said Rachel. "Classic Truth or Dare situation."
"Sure," nodded Daria. "If we're counting Truth or Dare, I've... touched a girl basically everywhere. But that's not really... sexual. Is it?"
"It is to me," said Kelly. "I'm disappointed in you ladies. I've spent the whole summer assuming if I was single we'd be fucking. Just for the sport of it!"
"You're being so casual about it," I said.
"People don't just have sex with everyone because they're single."
"Tell that to lesbians," said Kelly. "So, none of you have hooked up with each other either?"
We looked around nervously, eventually all at once shaking our heads no.
"Well," she said, finally unwinding the cage of the champagne cork, "I think we should rectify that."
"You think two of us should have sex right now," said Daria, with a lilt of irritated disbelief.
"No, I think all of you should have sex right now. Get it out of your system. You have no idea what you're missing."
I tried diffusing the tension. "I'm not going to fuck my friends on the last night of camp. That's super fucking weird."
Kelly was very plain about it. "We might never see each other again. You all have a no-strings-attached opportunity here."
Thankfully a champagne toast allowed for a change of subject. We drank to a great summer and promised to stay in touch. It was quite traditional in that way. But Kelly's threat that we might not see each other again stuck in my brain, probably because I knew she was right. We had no external ties in the world, and even if we made the effort to get together outside of camp, what would we talk about? Camp of course. And that gets strange after a certain age. That's my best guess as to why I eventually came around to the big erotic suggestion of the night. I can't speak for everyone else, but Kelly's two years of extra maturity gave her an undeniable sense of things. She clearly knew when to reintroduce the concept. It was about an hour later, when we all had a respectable buzz going.
"Everyone feeling a little less uptight?"
"Who's uptight?" I asked.
"Apparently all six of you all summer long," said Kelly.
"Hey, I've been having a nightly rendezvous at the flat rock."
"With Shawn the Spatula." She had me there.
Jasmine joined the defence. "Just because we're not exactly your definition of adventurous doesn't mean we're uptight."
"Prove it," dared Kelly.
"How?"
"Let's see two of you together."
"Fuck off."
"Okay then, let's not see it."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean put on your camp bandanas as blindfolds and nobody has to know who did what. It'll be hotter that way anyhow."
"And I suppose you'll pick the two?" asked Tish.
Kelly said, "Oh, no. You're all doing this if any of you are. Think of me as your lesbian Sherpa."
"You're pretty dead set on this," I groaned.
"I'm just trying to create a memorable night for all. Look, you don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with. Just let me pair you off and... kiss a little. If you want to advance beyond that, it's up to you."
"I'm game," said Rachel. I think this surprised everybody, but perhaps it also intrigued. Suddenly the looks being swapped around were less dismissive and more of an I will if you will nature.
After a pensive moment Jasmine said, "Okay, fuck it."
Daria and Tish followed and then Nadia and I agreed at the same time. Kelly rubbed her hands together like all her hard work had paid off.
We all took the final swigs of our champagne, and collected our bandanas. The anonymity aspect of all this was actually pretty slick because none of the six of us had physical features that might identify us in a blind make-out context. I was probably the tallest, and Rachel the shortest, but the disparity wasn't so extreme that anybody couldn't be mistaken for someone else. We were all thin and medium-chested, with longish hair. Not that that should matter, I thought. All this was likely to be over after a momentary smooch and some nonchalant shrugs.
Kelly had each of us tie our own blindfolds, but then she went around to each one to check the knots. She explained that she would silently choose pairs by joining two girls' hands and guiding them to their own side of the room. Kelly said she would supervise, which felt voyeuristic but, to be fair, that was kind of the point, and actually a referee of sorts seemed like a good idea. It was suddenly quite nervous, and when Kelly fed my hand into the hand of my mystery partner, my friend who I'd known all summer, I flinched and squeezed it tight.
I'm forced to refer to my partner only as she, as I suppose I would be identified also in her telling. She squeezed my hand in return, and upped the ante by placing her other hand on my upper arm, which was probably just an effort to get her bearings, but it felt so tender.
I felt an urge to laugh out of nervousness, which I had to stifle lest I blow my cover.
Kelly instructed everyone to take a seat on the floor with their partner. This way our heights would be made more or less equal.
My partner, she, held on to me as we lowered, and I found myself already developing an extra-sensory spatial awareness. She was right there, and I could feel her physically and energetically alike, but the room itself was dead quiet. Kelly gave one more guidance: "Okay, now be free," and without any further hesitation I felt lips connect with mine. It began as a soft, modest peck, closed-mouthed and sweet. But the moment my lips began to engage, she divulged to a heavy, lush kiss, and our mouths gradually widened, our tongues colliding.
In truth, it wasn't my first kiss with a girl. There had been a time when my friend Nat and I bet each other we could make our other friend Max uncomfortable if we made out in front of him. That was a drunken night I'd since regretted if only because Max didn't freak out the way we expected, and Nat acted kind of weird after. I didn't mention that story during Kelly's grilling because it hardly stacked up to the sexcapades apparently expected of us. Already this kiss with her was more stirring.
She released my hand from hers and moved it to the side of my face, where she laced her fingers under my jaw and up into the wisps of hair that circled my ears. I then did the same to her, not only to kindle the moment but also to see if I could get any clues about her identity. But really no. Her face was a woman's face, and her hair was silky and cool. If only I'd spent the summer intensely studying the minor features of my friends' faces. I'd looked at them, of course. All of those girls were gorgeous, and in particular when we went swimming I had to steal my share of glances at their beautiful bodies. But now I found myself seeing with my hands and lips, and my partner could have been virtually any one of them. Whoever she was, she was the best kisser I'd ever met.
She laid her other hand on my waist and began nudging herself over top of me. Soon, we were making out horizontally, and just as I reached to put my hands on her butt, I was stopped by a new announcement from Kelly.
"Stop right there!" She didn't say anyone's name. "We have to maintain anonymity. If you're going to get handsy, and I'm pleased to see that's on the table for all of you, you're going to have to undress."
She meant of course that putting my hands on someone's pants could give them away. I was in jean shorts then and if we'd later uncovered our eyes, whomever had felt jean shorts on their partner would know it was me.
I was terrified by this next prospect, but I heard no objections and found myself unbuttoning. Other crunches and toils of fabric could be heard around the room, including right next to me. As my fingertips yanked down my shorts, I took stock of what underwear I had on. This was something I could indeed detect by sense of touch. Knowing when I'd gotten dressed that I wouldn't be allowing Shawn down there, I didn't choose my most scandalous pair. They were cute though - delicate rainbow panties with a boyshort backside and a little star punched into the hip.
We must have all been waiting for a directive because Kelly barked, "Shirt too!" I thought I heard a snicker from my partner then, but it wasn't enough to identify her. Pants off, I was less reluctant to doff my tank top. My bra had in fact been chosen for Shawn - a white one that, frankly, made my rack look fabulous. It was a shame she couldn't see it. A moment later, Kelly permitted the group to continue, and my partner and I returned to our previous position.
Her body was tight and tiny, and she weighed against me like nothing. Her hair dangled into the fray of our kisses, but not enough to disrupt. I found her hair insanely hot, and maybe it's because I'd spent the summer in the smelling range of Shawn's mop, but the femininity of her in general was driving every morsel of my increasing horniness. Kelly was right. The experiment was worthwhile.
I felt for her waist, this time contacting her hips with open hands and registering her underwear as a skimpy thong. My own garment was downright Amish by comparison, but she ensured to level the exposure by reaching firmly between my legs and rubbing me over the fabric. Her touch was so deft and knowing; confident and capable, gentle but productive. Just trying to keep up, I went to put my hand on her bra and discovered none at all, instead the smooth skin of a bare breast. I recoiled in surprise and slowly returned my hand there, all the while delighting, breathily, in the skillful strokes at my area.
With expert sleight of hand, she used one swift motion to caress me again while slipping her fingers underneath from the bottom. She pulled my panties to the side and pressed her touch against my bare pussy. I was soaking wet by this point, and she could tell, sliding her middle finger inside me, and soon joining it with her index. Now I wanted to exhale more vocally, and increasingly she was triggering a spot within me that made me want to outright bawl. I tried to distract myself by wondering if all the girls were progressing this quickly, if at all. But this only led me to picture Tish, Jasmine, Nadia, Rachel, and Daria in various pairings of nakedness and cavorting, which hardly quelled my simmering orgasm. Even the idea of Kelly sitting by watching seemed hot as fuck, and I found myself wanting to perform for her. Then I got stuck on the idea of fucking in front of people in general, anyone, and that, combined with the gifted prods of her and her eager kisses, drove me to an unstoppable brink of utterance.
"Yessss" I whispered, wavering and slow.
Then I heard my partner snicker for certain, but still couldn't place her.
She took my open pleasure as permission to advance, separating our lips and lowering to place two hands on my underwear and pulling them off. Then I felt her silky hair against my thighs, and her tongue landing against my pussy. And in the minutes that followed I broke every rule. I moaned, I squealed, and I panted, betraying myself not only to her, but to every blindfolded person in the room. All of them knew I was receiving the oral I'd never have gotten from Shawn even if I let him try. Kelly didn't admonish my expressions, and I suspect it was because the noises were doing good things for the joy of the group overall. I wasn't the only one vocalising at this point. I was positive I heard Jasmine let out a whimper at one point, and I know I heard Rachel across the room (she outright yelled "fuck yeah"), and both of their noises were exhilarating to hear, as well as informative, disqualifying them from my roster of possibilities.
My legs twitched as she bathed my underneath with her tongue, and I stiffened as I came into her mouth, and then eased all my tension at once. She kissed me again and again in a line that led back to my face and when she arrived to kiss my lips, she could feel my giddy smile against hers. I took control of the moment, grabbing her shoulders and leading her all the way to the floor. Then I drew my face downward and began kissing her mound over the panties.
Following the leader, I proceeded to tease beneath the fabric and eventually peeled the thong away and buried my face in her warm, wet cavern. It's a flavour I've tasted many times since, but I remember being surprised that first time. There was a tartness, neither sweet nor bitter. If anything it just tasted like fun, and I loved it.
I don't think I came to this part quite as naturally as my partner, but I gave it my best, which was easy because the more I committed to her pleasure the more pleasure I felt too. I managed to evoke some gratifying exhalations but it was never enough to further narrow my suspicions. At this point I almost preferred not knowing, the mystery after all was adding so much to the overall heat.
How we ended up in 69 I don't even know, but on the way into position, she unhooked my bra and we fell into each other in complete liberation. I'm positive I heard Kelly's heavy breath and I had to believe we were the reason. We fucked that way for a while, slowly and gently bringing each other to breaks of submission.
It ended at the right time. I was exhausted and fully sated. Kelly spoke now like a yogi addressing her students after class; low and calming instructions. "I've placed your clothing directly in front of you. I'll give you a moment to get dressed, and then I'll move you around before you remove your blindfolds."
This took a few minutes. Kelly walked me to the opposite side of the room and when we were given the green light to look around, I found myself disoriented about the space in general. The immediate instinct was to study faces, to see if some cosmic signifier might link my partner and I in extranatural recognition. But that didn't work. It could have any one of those beautiful women. Jasmine was flush, Rachel was messy-haired, Daria was still only half-dressed with her top balled up in a fist and her bikini bra exposed and familiar. We all were glistening with sweat. I couldn't even say who I most wanted to have been my partner, having never had a specific crush on any of them. Suddenly, with the shared experience, I suppose I had a crush on all of them.
Nadia said it best: "Now I feel like we wasted the summer."
This broke the tension and we all laughed and parted for bed. So often through the summer I'd fallen asleep after making myself come, but it didn't feel necessary that night. I slept like a baby, and the next morning we all acted as if nothing unusual had happened. We gave emotional farewells and swore we'd keep in touch until the following summer. I remember thinking the next summer couldn't come fast enough, but by the time it did arrive I'd taken a different job and couldn't return. I don't know who among those other girls did. The thing is, camp friendships often don't last forever. But a bond is formed and something indeed does last. For me it was the memory of the night I finally broke free, and became the person I am - the person I'm proud and excited to be.
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