Secrets Revealed Pt. I Ch. 01

I knew the speech by heart so I passed the time watching each of the boys assigned to my bunkhouse. I was trying to assess their personalities. There were always the troublemakers, the shy ones you had to be sure didn't get picked on, and the regular kids. The regulars had a good time wherever they were. Joseph had sat next to me. I took him to be one of the shy ones. He seemed to be forming a bond with me. I was determined that he would have a great week.

After checking that the boys were behaving, I looked around for the Bunkhouse 3G table, where Patrice was sitting. I spotted her nearby. She and Abby were nervously trying to keep order. I smiled, remembering my first summer as a counselor here. I was so naïve, myself, that year.

Abby happened to look up and saw me looking their way. She leaned over and said something to Patrice. Immediately, Patrice turned around and looked my way, gifting me with a bright smile. One of the girls sitting next to Abby caught on to what was taking place and whispered to the girl sitting next to her. They both looked at Patrice, chanting words I could only barely make out over the din.

"Patrice has a boyfriend... Patrice has a boyfriend."

Patrice's head snapped around, but not before Abby was already quieting the girls. When Abby looked my way again, she mouthed, "Sorry" to me as she made a sad face. I nodded and smiled back. Patrice had her back to me, but I was sure she was embarrassed. I looked down to see Joseph looking at me. His expression was... curious.

"You like her, don't you?" he asked me.

I knew we were supposed to keep our personal relationships concealed from the campers, but I didn't see any harm in being honest with Joseph. It would help build the bond between us. Kids like him need to feel they have something special.

"Yes, I do. Do you think she's pretty?" I asked.

He thought about that for a moment.

"I guess so. I'm not into girls yet. My mom keeps telling me that will change soon."

He looked over at the other table again.

"If I was going to pick, I'd probably go for the blonde."

I laughed at his comment.

"Joseph, the beauty of a girl is very subjective."

Joseph wrinkled his nose at my comment. I realized he probably didn't understand what I meant bysubjective. I explained, "I meant that everybody has their own idea of whether a certain girl is pretty."

He nodded and gave me a smile. I had made a friend. I reached over and tousled his hair. About that time, the pizza was being served, announced by cheers erupting throughout the room. Our places were already set with dishes. Staff from the kitchen brought out the food and set it in the middle of each table. I got up and assisted Jim in serving the meal. This would change starting with the next meal as the campers took turns setting and clearing the table, and serving the food. It was all part of the routine to teach them responsibility.

Later, after dinner and the campfire, we were getting our campers settled in for the night. It was the usual routine, making sure everybody took a shower, brushed their teeth, and didn't wander off before bedtime. Once all our boys were in bed, I turned off the lights in the main room and stuck my head in our bedroom.

"Jim, I'm going to sit outside for a little while."

"Sure thing. I'll holler if I need you," my roommate said, looking up from his book.

I gave the darkened main room a last look. Satisfied that everyone was in bed, I went out the screen door and sat on the concrete steps. Lights were going off in all the bunkhouses as the camp settled down for the night. As it got quieter, you could hear little sounds. There were crickets, but there were human sounds, too. It became so quiet in a few minutes that you could even just barely pick out distant whispered conversation. I smiled at that. Friendships were being formed, bonds that might last years, rekindled each summer as the kids returned. The friendships would change over the years as the kids grew up, but most friendships would survive. In time, as adults themselves they would look back fondly at the summers spent at Camp Kisatchie.

I was enjoying the cool night air and the privacy of the darkness when I heard the sound of footsteps. Someone was walking through the grass, their feet making swishing sounds softer than the crunch of the gravel. I didn't recognize the face but I knew the voice at once.

"I was hoping I'd find you out here," Patrice said sweetly.

"Are yours settled in?"

"Yes, Abby is watching over them. She shooed me out to come talk to you."

"Sorry about that incident in the dining hall," I apologized.

"I didn't know what to do. Girls can be so mean sometimes—and not just to each other."

I chuckled and nodded my head.

"Don't worry about it, Patrice."

"But the rules—" she started to say.

"The rules are to prevent public displays of affection. We wouldn't want to be caught making out, or worse, but a friendly smile, or even holding hands," I reached for her hand, my heart melting as I enjoyed the soft warmth of the touch, "won't cause you any trouble with Bill."

As I squeezed her hand, I felt her squeeze back and it made me take a deeper breath.

"Patrice, am I stepping on anyone's toes?" I asked hesitantly.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you serious with anyone?" I asked her, nervous about her answer.

"No." Then a moment later, "Are you?"

I thought about my answer. I knew what I wanted to say but I wasn't sure I should take the chance. I warred internally for a little while. Then, I decided I should go for it and take my chances. I answered her question.

"Only about you."

There was a silence during which my heart pounded and I sweated in the cool night air. I was dying there, waiting for her to answer, to give any kind of indication.

"Me, too," she finally said.

I let out my held breath and she laughed softly at the sound.

"Were you really holding your breath all that time?" she asked.

"Yeah, I was," I confessed.

She looked around carefully, trying to stare in through the screen door.

"Would it be alright for us to share a goodnight kiss?" Patrice asked.

I felt a funny tightness in my stomach. My fears had been unfounded. She felt the same way about me!

I was still holding her hand. I led her away from the bunkhouse, towards the trees. Standing in the shadows against the edge of the woods, where I knew we were all but invisible to anyone else, I pulled her by her waist to me.

"I think we're alone now," I whispered in the darkness.

She gave no resistance, flowing against my body. We were both wearing shorts so I felt her legs against mine, one smooth leg moving between mine. I tightened one arm around her waist and felt her breasts crush against my chest. She made one of those sweet sounds only a young woman can make, and I felt my insides melting as she made it.

With the other hand, I touched her face until my palm was against her cheek. In the very dim light, she looked up to my face expectantly. I pressed my lips to hers and closed my eyes. Her arms slowly slid around my neck and held us together even more tightly.

I heard the crickets, smelled her shampoo, but really was only aware of the beating of our hearts. Knowing she couldn't be gone long, we parted, holding each other in our arms and looking into each other's eyes by the dim light. She was smiling.

"That was nice. Let's do it again soon," she told me.

I nodded in agreement.

"I have to get back," she said, sounding pained.

I held her to me, one quick hug, before letting her go. I watched her, seeing her look back at me twice before I lost sight of her in the darkness. With thoughts of Patrice in my head, I lumbered back to the bunkhouse and crawled into bed. If Jim was still awake, he never said a word. As I drifted off to sleep, I thought of her kiss, as gentle as the touch of a butterfly.

* * * * *

"Thinking of butterflies?" my wife was asking, giving me a sly smile.

"Butterflies?" I asked as a way to stall for time so I could get my thoughts together.

"Yeah, butterflies. You know, the kind that fly around in summer. The kind that fly inside here, too," she said, playfully touching my stomach.

Did she know what I had been thinking?

After letting me sweat for a few seconds, she continued, "You looked like you were reliving a really pleasant memory."

"Just remembering some old friends," I hedged.

"Uh-huh," she said, not sounding like she believed I was thinking about justfriends.

She turned to follow our daughter. I tagged along, walking towards the archery range at the far end of camp. The crunch of gravel under my feet was such a familiar sound.

* * * * *

"Tim," Patrice called.

I stopped and turned at the sound of that lovely voice. I watched her shapely body approach, listening to her tennis shoes crunch the gravel.

She caught up to me but then had to catch her breath. I waited and smiled. I was smiling a lot lately whenever I was around Patrice. I had only known her for three weeks, but she was becoming an important piece of my life.The most important piece.

"I have a few minutes before the next group shows up. How about you?"

"About the same," I said, glancing at my watch. "What's new?"

She gave me a shy smile, and then looked down.

"What?" I asked her.

"Abby got a letter from Trip yesterday. He's coming for a visit on Saturday. She's been gushing about him."

"And that makes you embarrassed?"

Patrice continued without appearing to notice my remarks. "He's working a lot with his friend, on the houses. It sounds like the summer is going well for him, for his business."

She paused, pushing some gravel around with the tip of her shoe. I waited patiently. She had something to say, something she felt was very important. She took a really deep breath and slowly looked up to meet my gaze.

"Last night, after Abby told me what Trip was doing, we talked. About her and Trip—and about me and you."

She was taking her time about telling me something. I was trying my hardest to be patient. She broke eye contact and looked down as she said the next sentence.

"We had a long talk about, you know, ... about sex."

The last two words were spoken just above a whisper. She looked up to see my reaction. Now she began to speak faster, like she wanted to get this over with quickly.

"It was hard to get her to talk about it at first. She's kind of shy, even around me. I really wanted to know so I kept after her until she finally talked about it. I asked her what her first time was like. What to expect. Would it hurt? Would I like it? Would I know what to do?"

Realizing where this was leading, I looked around to be sure no one else was near enough to overhear, but we were alone. I felt my cock harden in my pants as the implications of the conversation became clear.

"She told me it didn't always hurt. She told me about some things I could do to make sure it hurt less."

Finally she looked up, smiling guiltily. It wasn't hard to imagine what those "exercises" involved.That thought got me even harder.

"So, I was thinking, maybe this weekend would be the right time. You know, for us to..."

My heart was absolutely pounding as she said that. She didn't need to continue. I knew what she was saying, what she was offering to me. I looked directly into her eyes.

"Are you sure, Patrice? Really sure this time? You don't have to, you know."

She didn't have to, but I wanted her to. Really, really bad.

Nodding, her hair shining in the sun and bobbing as she did so, she said, "Yes. I think I'm ready. How about Friday night?"

My mouth felt dry as I realized she was offering me the most precious gift a woman could offer a man. The gift she could only give once. I tried to answer but my mouth had gone dry. I swallowed hard.

"Friday," I said. "I can't wait!"

I put my arms around her, intending to kiss her deeply, intending to revel in the moment. The sound of approaching children made her push me away. She gave me a light peck on the cheek before stepping back, though.

"We have to get back to work. Friday," she said, grinning now at the implied promise in the last word.

I stood there, watching her. The group of campers walked around me, surrounding me like a school of fish, and I just stood there watching her walk away as they followed her. Too late, I realized that I also had a group to meet. I came to my senses and ran to the shady spot where ten campers were starting to wonder where their instructor was.

I tried to cover, making up a story about showing them how it felt to be lost in the woods without a guide. Their counselor made a face that showed me he wasn't buying it. The kids, though, believed me. Joseph would have seen right through it. I wondered for a moment how he was doing. He had been back home for almost two weeks. I smiled as I remembered how confident he looked when his mother showed up to pick him up at the end of the week. She looked like she had missed him. He, however, looked like he was not ready to be going home. He did fine.

On Friday, I couldn't get rid of the campers fast enough. I knew we'd still have to wait until the night, but I was anxious to be around Patrice, anticipating the night. I had to keep reminding myself to slow down and pay attention to each little one who hugged me or wished me well as he left. Even many of the girls came to tell me farewell, thanking me for what I had taught them about navigating the woods.

At last, the campers were all gone and we were on our own until Sunday afternoon. We still had some straightening up to do but that would only take a few hours. Bill asked me to run an errand in town and I gladly did it, using the opportunity to drop by the local drugstore.

It had taken a little convincing to get Jim to go on the canoe trip with the other counselors. I finally had to tell him what I wanted the room for. Once he knew, he just smiled and said, "No problem."

The afternoon crawled by. Abby had dinner with us in the dining hall. I could tell Patrice was a little anxious. I was nervous. Well, I was nervous and horny. Abby was there being supportive for Patrice. She was really being sweet. My mind drifted to those "exercises" she had been teaching Patrice. I would have loved to watch that scene.

Patrice and I ate light. When we were done, the three of us got up and picked up our trays. Abby opened the screen door and stepped out into the evening. We followed her, holding hands. Patrice's hand was just a little sweaty. I was trying not to tremble, with anticipation and fear.

"Thanks, Abby," I offered, anxious to get rid of her and get Patrice alone.

Abby looked at me with surprise, and then looked at Patrice.

"Don't you want to—" she started to say.

"Yes," Patrice started as she turned to look at me. Looking around to see no one else was nearby, she continued. "I'm going to take a shower first. I'll meet you later at your place."

"I was thinking we could take a shower together," I said.

Patrice blushed and Abby looked away as if pretending she hadn't heard me. When Patrice didn't respond, Abby spoke up. She was trying to sound like the confident big sister but I could sense Abby's discomfort.

"That sounds nice. You two can get familiar with each other that way."

"Ab-by!" Patrice said in a drawn out sort of way.

"Patrice, Iknow what's going on. It's alright. Remember what we talked about?"

Patrice nodded but still looked uncomfortable.

"Why don't you two follow me back and you can pick up your bag," Abby suggested.

Patrice nodded. We set off to Bunkhouse 3G with Abby walking next to Patrice. Flanked by her best friend and me, Patrice seemed to relax a little. When Patrice went into their room to get her things, Abby grabbed me by the arm. I could tell she wanted to tell me something but it was difficult for her. Finally, she spoke in a whisper, avoiding my gaze as she spoke.

"You know how nervous she is, right?" she asked. I nodded. "Take it slow. She wants this a lot but she's also scared. You're her first."

"I know that, Abby. I also know I love Patrice. I want it to be special for her. I don't want to hurt her."

"If something happens, if she decides to wait a little longer, be supportive, okay?"

I thought about what she had asked me. If it came to that, it wouldn't be easy but I knew I'd do the right thing. I nodded. Abby smiled.

"Good. Now, you have some protection, right?" Abby asked me as Patrice came to the door.

"Abby! I can't believe you asked him that."

"Patrice, hon, you're a big girl now. You have to make sure this is taken care of," Abby told her.

Patrice looked to me. I nodded and smiled.

"Then go, you two. Have a good time and don't come back until tomorrow." Abby shooed us out the door with a grin.

I took Patrice by the hand. I was pleased to find that her hand was no longer sweaty. I took her bag with the other hand and we set off for my room. It was just starting to get dark.

To be continued inChapter 2

This story is Copyright © 2006 by Strickland83. All rights reserved.

Abby and Trip appear courtesy of Nick Scipio. The Summer Camp characters and universe are Copyright © 2002-2006 Nick Scipio.