tagLesbian SexCamp Larry Horton

Camp Larry Horton

byeroslit©

I was told that the drive into Camp Larry Horton would relieve me of all my fears. I was skeptical, of course. This was my first full-time position as a young adult camp coordinator and nothing seemed capable of alleviating the butterflies in my stomach.

But soon after turning off the main road onto the dirt and gravel path leading to the camp, I began to believe. Dense woods on either side of the car quickly blocked out civilization's existence. I was only twenty miles from the center of downtown, but I might as well have been in the Alaska wilderness.

Each turn in the narrow road revealed even more beautiful scenery. After three quarters of a mile I was actually feeling rejuvenated. I crossed over a crystal clear creek and slowed to take in the idyllic surroundings. Damn, it was working. I hate it when my friends are right.

Soon, the first rustic building came into sight and I knew from the descriptions provided to me in advance that it was the office. I pulled into the undersized parking area and turned off the car, allowing myself a few extra seconds to completely compose myself before getting out.

The early September air was fresh. Temperatures during the day were still climbing into the eighties, even approaching ninety on occasion, but the mornings were much more fall-like. Among the first things I noticed outside the car was the near-total silence. A few birds made the only sound aside from my shoes on the gravel as I approached the office.

The creaking of the front screen door made me look up and take notice of the first human I'd seen since leaving the main road. Justine was the Director of Activities at the camp and one of the key people in getting me hired. She strolled onto the porch and opened her arms in a welcoming sign.

"Traci. I'm so glad to see you again," she said, embracing me.

Justine was in her late forties, making her twice my age. She was tall and gangly with short hair, a dark tan bordering on leathery skin, and a strong voice sure to put fear into the most mischievous camper.

"Hi, Justine. I can't believe today is really here," I told her.

She laughed and put her arm around me. "Everything will be fine. We wouldn't have hired you if we thought you couldn't do this. You were made for it. The kids will love you."

"But they're not kids," I said with a bit of panic in my voice. "They're in college. I was in college a couple years ago myself."

"They're freshmen," Justine assured me. "Eighteen years old. You'll be like an older sister to them. Perfect for what we need."

"I hope you're right. You know more about this than I do."

Justine smiled. "C'mon in. I'll show you around."

I probably only retained half of what she was telling me during the ensuing fifteen minute tour of the simple office because my mind was still blurry from first-day-on-the-job jitters. Justine promised me we would sit down later and discuss in more detail what my role would be when the students started arriving the next day. All I knew at the moment was that it was an orientation program sponsored by a local college; team building and bonding.

It was right up my alley, of course, but that didn't mean I wasn't apprehensive. These were going to be real people under my supervision for several days in a close environment. And they would be having their own apprehension about starting college and being away from home for the first time and...God, I was a nervous wreck.

Justine was still talking. "OK. Let's go out back and I'll show you your cabin."

I followed Justine out the back door of the office, across a small patch of scrubby grass, and onto the front porch of my cabin. It was made of wood, but not logs. It was one story with a large window in the front and wooden beams holding up a rickety roof over the porch. Inside, it was split into four main rooms: a living room with fireplace, a kitchen and eating area, a bedroom and a bathroom. It smelled of disinfectant and bug spray.

"These were never intended to replicate a Hilton," Justine said. "As you know, meals will be served in the dining hall, but you can cook whatever else you need in here. As you saw, we have a washer and dryer in the back of the office that you can use. Other than that, we can't offer much."

"It'll be fine," I said. "I didn't bring much."

"The cabins the students will be in are built for two and everybody this week will have a roommate," Justine told me. "It's very rare that we don't have issues with that when we have college kids here. So be prepared. The college insists that we keep that arrangement because they think it helps get them acclimated to dorm life. I'm not so sure."

I deferred to Justine's experience at the camp, but remembered my own period of adjustment at school. Having two in a cabin would be better than three, I thought to myself, where two roommates could team up against the third. In any case, I would keep it in mind.

Justine and I spent the rest of the day touring the multi-acre camp and going over the schedule. Then I unpacked. I sat in my tiny living room and looked over the list of two dozen students who would be attending the camp, but that did me little good until I could meet them face-to-face and interact with them the way I was trained to do. I believed I was a good listener and would become a very good one-on-one counselor. I had less confidence in my ability at conflict resolution when two or more people were involved.

Early the next morning, they started to arrive. The college had done a good job in selecting the attendees; half male and half female. Cabins were pre-assigned and the toughest task was directing everybody down the numerous paths that led to cabins in the woods. As I expected, there were vocal leaders and quiet followers. But they all seemed anxious to be away from campus for a few days at the start of their first year.

The dining hall at the camp also served as the meeting place for when Justine or I had to address them as a group. Justine ran the introductory session right before lunch and then we ate together. It was the first chance to get to know most of the kids better and I was feeling more confident at the end. They were just normal students. I was pretty sure I could handle that.

The afternoon began with the first of the team-building exercises that I was to lead. It was designed to be a low stress activity to get the kids interacting with each other and that's how it turned out. It gave me a chance to learn a little bit more about each of their personalities and one girl, in particular, had my attention.

Her name was on my list as Samantha, but everyone quickly learned she went by Sam. She was a natural blonde, an inch or two above average height, with a well-developed body and a bashfulness that always attracted me in women. It struck me from that very first activity that Sam could be vulnerable in the camp setting. She was clearly less social than most of her classmates and it worried me that she might not fit in.

I watched her move about with athletic ease and grace, but mingling with the others in an informal way just wasn't her style. I saw two guys approach her within the first couple hours, seemingly with the goal of becoming friends, but she put them off politely. This wouldn't have concerned me except for the fact Sam seemed no more inclined to befriend one of the other girls.

In the evening we had just one group activity and then let everybody go back to their cabins. There were no cabins assigned as co-ed and the students were advised to keep it that way. But Justine and I knew visits would be made, as long as no 'all nighters' took place.

I was back in my cabin by ten, glad to be through the first day without incident. I changed out of my camp uniform into more comfortable shorts and a t-shirt and went to the kitchen to find a light snack to watch TV with. As I stood by the refrigerator, movement outside the tiny side window caught my eye. In the darkness, somebody was approaching my cabin and it appeared to be a female.

Half expecting them to walk past, I was a bit surprised—or perhaps, more accurately, disappointed—when I heard a soft knock on my door. I put down my plate and headed that way. With no way of seeing who it was, I opened the door with a little unease.

A very distraught looking Sam stared in at me sheepishly. She had obviously been crying.

"Traci, I...I'm sorry," she said with a trembling voice. "Can I c...come in?"

I was pretty sure more tears started before the door was closed behind her.

"What's the matter, Sam?" I said.

"I d...don't know if I can do this."

"Do what?" I asked, trying not to sound disturbed.

"Stay here. I mean, do this camp for three days," she sniffled. "Stephanie had some friends over just now and I...I...damn it, Traci, I felt so out of place and pretty soon they were pretty much just ignoring me and...and..."

Sam broke into uncontrollable sobbing. I instinctively wrapped my arms around the young woman, who stood shaking within my grasp, her hands covering her face.

"It's OK, Sam," I said, running my hands over her soft hair. "Starting college is tough. I know. Being away from home; new friends."

"I feel so out of place," Sam said between sobs. "I couldn't make friends in high school and I just know it's going to be the same here. My Mom..."

I waited for her to finish, but she never did. Instead, her arms enclosed my waist in a tight hug.

"Your Mom what?" I asked quietly.

There was a long delay before her reply. "My Mom...well...kind of knows how to...you know...make me feel better."

"I can't be your Mom, Sam."

Sam said, "But you can help. You can do what she does, Traci."

It never struck me not to ask the obvious question. "What is that?"

Sam slowly took my arms in her hands, holding me by the wrists, and brought them to the front of her body. I watched as Sam placed them in the middle of her t-shirt, just below her breasts. Before I had a chance to comprehend what was happening, Sam was pulling my hands onto her breasts on the outside of her shirt.

I could easily tell that she didn't have a bra on. The tits were large and firm and her nipples began to stiffen under my touch. I looked at the last of Sam's tears sliding down her beautiful face and my pussy ached with desire.

"No, Sam. I can't."

Still, she never let go and I never tried to pull my hands away.

"You have to, Traci. Or I'll go crazy."

I was torn between my duties as a counselor and my craving for the innocent girl in front of me. Finally, I said, "Tell me what she does."

Fear replaced the tears in Sam's eyes. Would she tell me? Was the experience in her cabin awful enough to tell me everything? I saw her lips tremble.

"Whenever Mom knows I'm worried about something or somebody has hurt me, she holds me," Sam said. "She holds me and then...then she touches me like you are now."

It was almost enough to make me pull away. But she kept talking, "And we kiss, Traci; wonderful, long kisses."

Sam leaned into me and our mouths met. A few seconds later, her tongue was probing my mouth and my hands were gripping at her breasts more tightly. I heard her moan and the kiss became more passionate. I was pressing her tits against her chest and feeling the material of her shirt bunch up in my palms. Even with that, I could sense her nipples growing harder and harder.

"Then she puts her hands inside my shirt and touches me," Sam said between kisses.

It was like a dream and I did as she said, searching out the magnificent flesh knowing that it was all very wrong. I pulled on her nipples and squeezed the tits until she nearly gasped during another kiss.

"What else?" I asked.

Sam caught her breath and silently pulled the shirt over her head. I gazed in awe at the perfect tits.

"She normally takes off my shirt and I let her, well, I let her do...whatever she wants."

Sam was nervous and maybe a little embarrassed. But I saw in her eyes the same lust she must have seen in mine. I didn't need to ask any more. I leaned down and licked one tit; then the other. I returned to the first one and kissed it all over. I couldn't wait any longer. I opened my mouth and put it over a large portion of the breast, sucking on it feverishly. Sam pushed her chest forward and held my head in place with her hand.

"Oh God, Traci. Yes. Just like that."

I spent considerable time assaulting each breast with my mouth and hands. Sam occasionally grasped at my own tits in the process, but I hardly noticed. She was such an incredibly sexy girl with such a perfect chest that I was lost in her.

Eventually, I stood up and faced Sam. As gently as I could, I ask her, "Is that what your mother does?"

She nodded cautiously.

"What else, Sam? What else does she do to you?"

Sam looked down at the floor and this time she shook her head. I paused, and then said, "I have to know, Sam."

To my surprise, her little hands moved to the front of her shorts and she unbuttoned them, lowering the zipper a second later. At first she held the shorts in place. Then she let them fall to the floor.

Sam wore a tiny pair of panties. I couldn't help but stare at her body; her smoothly rounded hips and tempting pussy and tight ass. My hand fell between her legs as if drawn there by a magnet and it rested on top of her panties. Sam closed her eyes and her lips separated in a silent moan.

I knew now that there wasn't anything she and her mother didn't do. But was it mutual? Did Sam only receive, or did she return the love? This wasn't the time or place to determine that. It would wait until tomorrow. I rubbed her clit through the panties and I watched her body stiffen. I felt the moisture gathering on her underwear.

I kneeled down and yanked on the panties until her neatly trimmed pussy was in front of my face. The panties joined the shorts on the floor and I spread Sam's legs. I heard Sam gasp the moment my lips touched her. She was wet and warm and sweet.

I licked every inch of the space between her cunt and her clit and kissed her thighs before returning to her most sensitive spots. My mouth encircled her clit and I worked on it with my tongue while my hands tightly clutched her ass. Every conceivable sound of sexual delight came out of Sam's mouth. Once again, he hand held my head in place. But I wasn't going anywhere.

I fucked her with my tongue and played with her clit until she was squirming and moaning loudly. Her body quivered. She cried out my name and begged me to make her cum.

Before long, I knew she was close.

"Yesssss, Traci. Oh God! Yesssss!"

I concentrated on her clit. Then she came in a series of long, fierce climaxes that shook her from head to toe. I could taste her as the orgasm went on and on. Her legs nearly buckled when the last jolt shot through her, but Sam leaned on me much as I imagined she did with her Mom.

I stood up and held her in my arms.

"You better go now, Sam."

###

I purposely avoided Sam as much as I could the morning of the following day. She seemed to be interacting normally with the other students so I hoped things were getting along better for her. The activity I feared the least was the afternoon hike where we would all be together and, once more, I wouldn't be forced into speaking to her in a private setting.

Or so I thought.

One mile into the three mile hike, when the kids were beginning to separate into little groups with large gaps in between, I decided to bring up the rear to capture any stragglers. We were in the thickest section of woods and the trail twisted with many bends, making it hard to see too far ahead or behind.

That's when I noticed Sam, by herself, off to the side sitting on a fallen tree. She had removed her shoe and was working on her foot or ankle.

"What's up, Sam?" I asked.

"Something inside my shoe."

She never looked up. I watched her for another twenty or thirty seconds, any hint of the other hikers long gone up the path. Then she finally looked up at me.

"Thanks for last night, Traci."

I frowned. "We better forget about last night. It won't happen again."

Sam stood up and moved closer. "But I never got the chance to...repay you."

"It's not necessary, Sam. I'm not your...," but I stopped myself from saying it.

"What? You're not my Mom? Can't I still thank you?" Sam said.

Her hand was on my hip. Then it was on the front of my shorts, moving across my thigh. As her fingers slipped inside the leg of my shorts I cursed myself for wearing such loose fitting pants. She reached the bottom of my panties, but didn't stop there. Soon, her hand was on my pussy.

"Not here," I whispered.

"Yes, here."

She rubbed harder and I tried to pull away. Sam stepped closer and put her other hand on my ass. The smile on her face would have been beguiling any other time or place. I glanced around and saw and heard nothing except the wildlife. Her fingers had found my clit and I winced.

No words were spoken as she moved her hand inside my panties. She adroitly sought out my cunt and slid a single finger a few inches inside. Using the moisture she'd collected, she moved up to my clit. I took in a deep breath and arched my back. Her other hand had shifted to one of my tits and she squeezed it through my shirt.

The next few minutes seemed to last forever. I was aware of our surroundings and the possibility of being seen, but nothing short of somebody tapping me on my shoulder could have made me stop Sam from her wonderful manipulation of my pussy. As my orgasm got closer and closer, I wasn't sure even a witness would have made me stop. The girl was obviously an expert and my body, and mind, lost all control.

Near the end, I just didn't care what sounds I was making or who might hear them. Sam was driving me wild. I put out one hand to prop myself against the nearest tree when I knew the orgasm was imminent. She furiously rubbed my clit and urged me to cum.

Finally, accompanied by a succession of muffled, delightful groans, I came in the middle of the woods. I was sure Sam would never cease her skillful massaging of my pussy. Somehow, I found the strength to force her hand out of my shorts before we looked at each other with unquestionable desire.

###

It was pitch black in my cabin that night except for a single candle on the kitchen table. Sam's head rested on my shoulder and my arm was wrapped around her as we lay in bed under a cover. We had stripped each other naked a few moments earlier, knowing that a few hours together was inevitable. I stroked her soft hair and pulled her closer.

"Tell me about you and your mother. How did it start?" I said.

Sam sighed, but we both understood it had to come out. Her fingers rolled back and forth across one of my nipples as she spoke.

"As soon as I turned eighteen, she came to me one night when we were alone in the house. She said she had waited until I was mature enough to make up my own mind about things. I didn't know what she was getting at. But then she told me how much she loved me and how beautiful I was. She asked about the guy I was dating and...well, if we'd had sex."

Sam paused and moved her hand to my other tit.

"I lied and said no. Then she told me that Dad and her...you know...were apart a lot and didn't get to see each other as much as they should and I knew she was just trying to tell me they didn't have sex, but didn't want to actually say it. When I said I understood she said, 'Maybe we can make each other happy.' God, Traci. That's the first time she touched me...on the chest."

I could hear her breathing harder and faster.

"She unbuttoned my shirt down to my tits and put a hand inside. We kissed a little bit. Not like she was my Mom, but like you would kiss somebody you loved. And then I felt her tongue on mine and her fingers were touching my boob. I didn't know what to do, Traci. It felt good and I liked the kiss, but...God, she was my Mom!"

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