A Shoulder to Cry On

For years I attended a summer camp. Every year as school crawled toward the end of the spring semester, my thoughts would turn to the grounds of that place, Camp Chippewa. My parents sent me as a camper for years and when I was too old for that I signed on as a counselor. The counselors were mostly teenagers and very young adults, with very few staff members over 25. I started as a junior counselor in the summer of 1985 at the age of 18, and my adventures were many and varied.

The camp was split into 6 main areas, 5 units where campers and counselors stayed, and the main central area containing the mess hall, recreation hall, administration buildings, etc. The units were divided by who lived there; young boys, older boys, all girls, a small unit for the older kids who generally traveled outside the camp and spent little time there, and a catch-all unit near the central hub. Naturally the older boys and the girls units were separated by the most distance, in this case nearly a mile.

During the morning the campers would go off to their various activities like swimming, horseback riding, riflery, arts and crafts, and many others. After lunch and a nap, individual cabins would group together and go off for long-term activities that took up most of the afternoon. At this point we would mix up the boys and girls, though keeping them at about the same age.

One week while I had a group of 9-11 year olds, I was paired up with a cabin of girls lead by one of the older counselors, a 23-year-old woman named Janet. Our activity that day was the ropes course, an intricate set of rope structures used as somewhat of an obstacle course. The kids loved it and needed little supervision, treating it like a giant jungle gym. Janet and I read them the rules and set them loose, then stood back and watched the fun.

I had met Janet of course, but circumstances had conspired to keep us from really getting to know each other. We had always had kids of differing ages or hadn't paired up for afternoon activities or whatnot. She was 5' 9", just a little shorter than me, with medium length curly dark hair. She had some Italian or American Indian or maybe even Asian Indian in her heritage, so she was a little bit on the dark and dusky side. She was cute as a button and had a ready, pretty smile, and though a little skinny was still nicely proportioned. She wore these oversized glasses that really worked for her, though I'm sure some of that was colored by my mid-eighties fashion sense.

We stood apart from the kids and watched them attempt teamwork to make it past some of the obstacles, telling them to go back to the beginning when they slipped off and touched the ground and occasionally dealing with conduct problems, but this activity basically ran itself. We chatted away for almost 3 hours while the kids wore themselves out, and we discovered quite a bit about each other.

I think I discovered quite a bit more about her. For some reason, people like to tell me things. They like to confide in me. While I don't mind this at all, as it is usually eye opening and educational, it does get strange at times. In this case, Janet started telling me about her personal problems, and they weren't small.

She was married, a fact hidden by the absent wedding band on her finger. Apparently she had taken this job to get away from him for a while, a summer-long separation to reevaluate the relationship. There were several issues, among which were children (she wanted them, he didn't), family problems (he was a mama's boy and sided with his family against her all the time), money problems (which this job wouldn't help - the pay was a joke) and sexual matters (it just wasn't right.)

Now keep in mind that I was 18 at the time and much of this was far beyond my expertise. Marriage was so far away as to be fully invisible in my life, as were kids. Money wasn't a problem for me yet, and sex was just plain fun as long as you paid some attention and took some precautions. I tried to act knowledgeable and supportive without giving any specific advice or drawing any conclusions. Hell, I wasn't a marriage counselor, I was a horny teenager.

She was hesitant to broach the issue of sex, but I encouraged her and after a furtive glance at the kids, we took a few steps further away from them and she spelled it all out for me. She really babbled quite a bit and apparently really needed someone to talk to. I was more than happy to oblige, and sex was something I thought I knew something about. Besides, I figured it was always good to get a different perspective.

She talked about how they were high-school sweethearts and had only been with each other, and she knew something was missing but had no way of pinning it down. He seemed either oblivious or in denial and got upset every time she brought it up. She used very vague terms, obviously embarrassed by the topic but still spilling out her heart. I asked the obvious questions about size and premature arrival and she blushed a little bit before admitting that she didn't even know if that was the problem. It was easy enough to explain the premature issue, and she seemed to think that was not a problem. The size issue was my opportunity to start some trouble.

Being young and eager, and probably a bit too aggressive in my technique, I did something bold. I was polite enough to ask if she was easily shocked, and she hesitantly replied "no." Which of course means "yes" but I wasn't bright enough to know that then. I looked around for a suitable site, then told her to go stand next to a particular tree and watch me. We split and went to our trees, hers giving her a clear view of the ropes course and of myself, while I was hidden from the course. She and I were only about 10 feet apart, but I knew she would still get the picture.

I unzipped and pulled out my dick, making sure to hold it so that she could see it well. Our discussion had made me a little excited, so I was slightly swollen and definitely larger than fully flaccid, but far from erect. I modeled it for a moment, turning my head to make sure she saw. She certainly did, and she wasn't taking it well. Her hands had flown to her mouth and her eyes were wide and staring. I actually did have to pee, and since that is the way things are done in the forest, I went ahead took care of that, without looking back at her. I tried to make it quick because I didn't want the kids to see her freaking out. Also, I didn't want to start freaking out myself. Our conversation had made me feel like she and I were contemporaries, but right now I felt like a kid who had just been caught doing something very inappropriate by an adult. Once done, I put it away and zipped up, then returned to our previous spot.

It took her a moment to come back, and she was still rather wide-eyed.

"I can NOT believe you did that!" she said in a shocked, hushed voice.

"I did ask you if you were easily shocked."

"Well, I didn't expect THAT!"

"Well, I apologize if that was inappropriate, but I did it for a purpose. I am just about dead average, judging by what I see in locker rooms. And of course that wasn't erect. The erection changes things considerably, but generally if it is small when flaccid, it's small when erect, and vice versa." She was still a little flustered, especially at my blunt description of male anatomy. Naturally I lied. I am a little bigger than average, especially in that half-mast state, but I figured any excuse to make her think her husband was inferior would be good for me.

We stood there in silence for a while and watched the course. I was upset at myself because I felt I had messed up. Here I was exposing myself to a woman who was significantly older than me, and she didn't appear to have appreciated it. This could get me fired, and that was the last thing I wanted. After a few minutes of that painful silence I had to say something.

"I am very sorry to have offended you. That's not what I wanted. I just thought an example would be a better way of making my point, and I was obviously out of line." I used my best forlorn tone of voice and hung my head a little, trying to look pitiful and repentant. It didn't often work, but you had to try.

"It's OK, really. I'm not offended, I think, just surprised. Actually I'm not quite sure how I feel about it." She reached over and patted my arm and I looked over at her face. She gave me a comforting smile and said, "Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone."

With that weight off my shoulders I relaxed immeasurably. We shared an embarrassed smile and started to laugh a little. Still, she was very silent the rest of the afternoon and I was fairly uncomfortable. She had a thoughtful, furrowed brow, and when we gathered the kids and headed back to camp she was obviously preoccupied.

The kids were worn out a little but still needed some corralling as we went back. As Janet's and my cabins started to go our separate ways I caught her eye and waved goodbye, but she waved me over. I told the boys to go on and jogged over to her. She leaned close and spoke quietly.

"Look, I'm sorry I'm acting strange right now, but I want you to know I'm not upset. OK? I'm not mad at you."

"I'm glad. I was really worried that I had screwed up."

"You didn't. It's OK." She put her hand on my arm and gave a comforting squeeze. We smiled and I turned to go, but her hand tightened just a bit and I turned back to her. She seemed a little surprised at her hand and quickly removed it. She hesitated for a moment, then leaned back in and spoke once more before we parted.

"That's only the second one I've ever seen!"

She blushed wildly and turned to run and catch up with her girls, now 100 feet down the road from us. I watched her run, but she didn't look back.

I got the boys cleaned up for dinner and we headed down the long road to the mess hall. I was surprised that Janet was so inexperienced. She was a cute girl, and I hadn't pegged her for an up-tight prude, but you never know about people. I figured nothing would ever come of it. Anyway, it's not like I had a chance with a woman that much older than me, especially one who was married. I tried to put her out of my mind, but certain thoughts kept creeping back in. The look on her face when she saw my penis was priceless. It was like she had seen a ghost or something.

Dinner was noisy as always, even during the meal itself. Kids share stories about their adventures of the day or wonder about the always-popular evening activities. After the food is gone the kids do several spirit cheers, which involve lots of banging on tables and singing and chanting and baiting the other units. After that dies down they got to the announcements, and the night's activity was everybody's favorite - the counselor hunt.

The counselor hunt involves all the counselors dispersing through the camp with a 10-minute head start, then the kids go and find them for points. The unit with the most points wins some little trinket, but more importantly they gain those points for the "best unit" prize at the end of the week. Still, the kids mainly love to run rampant through the camp and go places they haven't been - many of the boys run straight to the girls unit just because they've never seen it.

I enjoyed the counselor hunt for different reasons - I saw it as an opportunity for a night of relaxation. I usually headed outside the camp and found a relaxing place to rest, work on a project, or nap. I had planned to head out to a place I knew with a good climbing tree overlooking the Ohio River, but my plans were diverted.

After dinner we all went back to our units and got ready for the evening activity. The kids get flashlights and the counselors make a big deal of putting on dark clothes and camouflage, some even getting military style face paint on and discussing hiding places. Naturally the kids eat this stuff up, so by the time we all head out to the center of camp they are really worked up. I changed into a ripped up old pair of fatigues and a dark T-shirt and started bullshitting the kids about how to track somebody in the woods on our way.

Once there, the kids and counselors separate and the rules are stated, then the counselors run for it. The counselors had all been through it, so we ignored the rules and got ready to bolt. When the word was given, we scattered, some running through the large group of campers or around them, taunting and raising hell. I just took off north towards the Red Trail at a steady jog. A few others were going my way, but soon they had all splintered off and I heard only one pair of footsteps behind me. I looked back and saw Janet loping easily along a few paces back.

I slowed down to let her catch up to me, which she did quickly.

"I thought I was being followed."

"Well, you are."

"You want to talk about it?"

"I was hoping we could."

"Follow me - we are going off campus."

I stepped up the pace and headed northeast, toward the ravine. The camp was situated at the top of a large plateau overlooking the river, and the northeastern edge of it was a fairly steep slope studded with handy trees to keep you from tumbling down. The journey could just barely be done without using your hands on the ground, and this is where I was headed. The slope started shortly after the red trail ended, so no kids would be coming down here.

At the bottom was a creek which fed into the river. I headed up stream where I knew a good lounging area. After maybe 10 minutes we were well out of earshot of any campers, even if they were straying from the game area. The place was idyllic and wild, and one of my favorites. It was a bend in the creek which had swollen into a deep pool about 40 feet across. At the outside corner the bank was 5 or 6 feet higher than the water and a good-sized tree reached out over the water. Some enterprising youth had fastened a rope to the largest branch creating a wonderful rope swing. The bank on the other side was a gentle slope and had full sun around the noon hour - perfect for lounging after a morning of swimming.

I didn't hesitate. I launched right off the small cliff, avoiding the rope swing entirely, and did a graceful cannonball into the pool, clothes and all. The water was cool and wonderful in the hot summer evening, especially after the little run we just had. I surfaced and swam for the far grassy bank. I crawled out and peeled off my soaking wet shirt, throwing it over a low branch to dry out.

I turned and sat down, looking to see where Janet was. She was standing by the tree at the top of the high bank, using a long stick to try to get the rope in motion. I just watched her silently for a few moments, wondering what she wanted to talk about. I had my hopes, which were different from my suspicions, but I would just have to wait. She eventually got the rope in motion and got her hands on it, then called out to me.

"Hey! This looks like fun! But I didn't bring my suit."

"You don't need it - jump in. The bottom is mushy and safe if you want to take your shoes off." I was wearing my nasty caving shoes and I didn't care if they got wet.

"No! I like my clothes clean!"

"Well, take them off. You are wearing underwear, right?"

"Yeah" she replied, unconvinced.

"Either take it off over there and leave it or wad it up and throw it over to me. Then at least you'd have some dry clothes." She still looked conflicted, but the fact that she had grabbed the rope made me believe that she wanted to either come over or get in. "Besides, you've seen mine so it's only fair!"

"Ha ha. Very funny." She thought about it a little more, then hooked the rope over a lower branch and went a few paces back where I couldn't see much of her. I could tell she was taking her clothes off at the sight of her light blue shirt coming over her head. I smiled.

"Turn around!" she yelled. She had moved up close enough that I could see her head from my lower ground.

"Why?" I replied, giving her grief.

"Just do it! Close your eyes and turn around."

"Alright - have it your way." I turned around with my back to the swing, though not with closed eyes. I was wondering how to sneak a peek, but she was very quick. I heard the splash a moment later and then her sloshing up to shore.

"Keep 'em closed!" she commanded, and I obliged. I heard her move up past me, then some rustling and some wet sounds I couldn't identify. They I heard her come back and sit.

"Ok, I'm decent." I opened my eyes and looked for her. She had put on my shirt! It was oversized on me, and huge on her. Her slender, sun browned legs stuck out as she reclined on the soft grass. It was a nice sight. She had even left her glasses on the other side, and it was nice to see her face unobstructed. She had a small, cute nose and a thin-lipped mouth born to smile. Her bushy hair was drenched and matted to her head, but she had pulled it back out of her face.

I sat down next to her and reclined, looking up at the late afternoon sky. This was the height of summer and sundown wouldn't happen until after 8, with lingering sunlight until almost 9, so we had a fair amount of light left. High wispy clouds drifted slowly by, while closer to the ground the thickly leaved branches of oak trees swayed in the breeze.

I was young, but I wasn't stupid. I learned lessons from every woman I met, and while I couldn't have articulated my plan this well back then, the basics were still the same. Women like to talk, so give them the opportunity. Women like to be listened to, so be attentive. Women like beautiful things (well, who doesn't?) so give it to them. Here I had a woman who wanted to talk, who felt comfortable enough around me after having seen me expose myself to be nearly naked and alone with me, and we were in one of the most beautiful spots I knew. I let her take her time.

After a few minutes of silence I turned toward her and propped my head up on my arm. She wanted to talk, but perhaps needed a little encouragement. She glanced my way and smiled a little, then started to talk.

"This place is beautiful. How did you find it?"

"Hiking the blue trail 2 years ago. Nobody takes the blue because it is so long and difficult, but up here near the camp it's nice. It follows the creek all the way to the river."

"It's nice. I'm glad you brought me here." I remained silent, encouraging her to go on. "Look, about today, I'm sorry I freaked out like that. I was just really surprised. I mean, I've only ever seen Roger's before, and it was just a shock, you know?"

"Yeah, that wasn't my brightest decision. Still, it did make my point. So, is that his problem? Is he small?"

"Smaller than you!" she said, making it sound as if mine was huge. Men love that stuff, and I think my dick surged at her words. "He's not tiny, but he's not as big as you."

"Well, then what else does he do? I mean, if he doesn't come too early and he isn't especially small, then something must be wrong. Tell me how it usually happens when you have sex."

She blushed and turned away, holding her hand to her face. She was still very shy about this, but I just waited her out.

"Well, we usually just, DO it. I don't know how to talk about it. I mean we kiss a little, then he gets, you know, hard." At this she giggled a bit. "And then we do it. Just as simple as that." She obviously had no experience talking about her sex life, and she was becoming a little flustered.

"OK, I don't need the details. It sounds like there aren't any details anyway. If you and he are the only ones you've each been with then chances are he doesn't know any more about it than you do. If you want things to change, one of you will have to learn something new."

"And how do I do that?" she asked knowingly, but with a slight quiver in her voice. She was conflicted, knowing that she shouldn't be doing this but wanting it in a way she couldn't even articulate. I decided to move slowly, but surely. I've always had a way with words, and women love poetry, even if it's bad.