This One Time at Church Camp...

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A young couple meets at a summer church camp.
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Readers: All characters in this fictional story are 18 and over. This story is VERY loosely based on a story I was told several years ago while visiting a nudist resort. I chose to write it in the 1st person.

*****

As a kid of 20 during the summer of 1980, I was the typical guy that had graduated high school, got his Associates Degree from Junior College, and was working a full-time job barely making above minimum wage.

My name is Walter Hampton, although everyone has called me Wally as far back as my memory allows.

My parents helped with my education, as much as they could, but it was my aunt that insisted that I at least get an Associate's Degree to show on my resumes when looking for long-term employment. She backed up her convictions by covering nearly most of mine and my older sister's JC education.

It was during that summer that I met Candace (or Candy as she was known to all her friends).

Meeting Candy was the one singular event that triggered a chain of events that shaped my life.

I had been working as a fry and prep cook at a local diner that catered to families as well as the truckers that stopped by for a bite on their road trips.

It was open 24/7, including all holidays. My boss, Calvin Hester, was the owner and he poured his life into making Cal's Diner the popular place that it was.

I worked the graveyard shift, 10pm - 6am from Tuesday through Saturdays. Most nights I worked alone so I never got a real meal break, although I still had to clock in and out for them.

Cal was fair, though. He knew I could complain to the labor board but instead he allowed me to eat my meals at no cost and to even take home a breakfast if I wanted. Comparing the value of the meals vs. the loss of a half-hour pay, I came out way ahead on the deal.

It was during my vacation during that summer that I met Candy. Our church needed counselors to go church camp. The job wasn't too tough...be in a cabin with 7 boys ages 10-12...and make sure they got to bed on time and got up on time.

During the day, the activities staff and chapel leaders took care of the rest. I had been to this camp in the past when I was a young teen and loved the area.

It was nearly 7000 feet in elevation and was surrounded by trees and creeks.

The facility they used was first class. For the campers, the cost was 150 per camper. For me? Absolutely free for simply making sure my 7 boys were well-behaved for a few hours each day. The rest of the time was my own.

There were some rules for all of us. The biggest rule was that NO electronic devices such as transistor radios or any kind of big boom boxes were allowed on the site. The purpose was to disconnect the kids for 5 days from any outside influence. Even newspapers were banned.

The first day there, I met my 7 kids. I knew 4 of them. The other 3 were friends of the others. They were good kids, although typically equipped with the attention span of a house fly.

We sat in the outdoor amphitheater while nearly 300 children and adults listened to some basic camp orientation. The rules, meal times, play times, chapel times, etc. were covered.

As with most camps, the boys and girls sleeping and showering buildings were on opposite ends of the large complex. They could interact all they wanted during meal and activities time, but once it was 8:30 pm, they had to get back to their cabins, get their showers, and lights out by 10:00pm...no exceptions. Fortunately, I never had a problem with my boys.

The counselors had their own private shower building. It was customary for the counselors to get their showers during the day when their kids were involved in study classes and activities. We needed to be in the cabins to make sure the boys were in bed on time.

That first night, I was sitting at the end of a long table with my group and a tall, lean, leggy brunette sat across from me.

We were eating spaghetti that night and we kept looking at each other and laughing as we'd sip our spaghetti and have the sauce splash against our faces.

We were easily amused at how silly we both looked. We kept making sillier faces. It almost was like a contest.

This was nothing different about eating spaghetti than any other time, but there was a mutual attraction and the faces she made caused me laugh.

That was Candy. She was with a group that lived just 15 miles north from where I worked. Candy Adams.

She wasn't the classic beauty, although she was very easy on the eyes. Her thin face, large mouth, and big toothy smile was so adorable to me.

After dinner, we stood and talked for a while. Like myself, she wasn't too involved in her church, but couldn't turn down the opportunity for a free vacation. She was 21 at the time and this was the second year in a row for her to serve as a counselor.

My suspicions were correct. The job was easy. Also, the people at her church had known her long enough to trust her, much like mine did.

I tried not to stare, but she had on gym shorts that barely passed the dress code for camp. The evenings were known to be rather cool, even during the summer. I was wearing shorts, but I had planned on changing into some sweatpants before evening chapel services.

It was hard not to notice her long legs and small butt. She wasn't that large up top, but from what I could tell, it didn't appear that she was even wearing a bra. As the weather cooled off, the hardness of her nipples became more prominent through her camp counselor's t-shirt...identical to the ones we all wore for the week.

On top of the free week, we all got 5 new t-shirts to wear. Easy work...and now I'd met a young lady that I hoped to get to know more then and later.

****************************************************************

From the beginning, it was apparent that my interest in her was being reciprocated. She suggested getting together during the evening chapel services. It was mandatory for the kids, but optional for the counselors; although many did go.

We agreed to meet outside at the amphitheater. That would give us nearly an hour to visit before the services were over and the kids were sent back to their cabins for showers and the strict 10pm bedtime.

This time, Candy was wearing a sweatshirt with the Parkland Camp logo on it. She still had on the same shorts, though. I tried not to stare at her long legs as well as remembering what she looked like in that t-shirt with apparently no bra.

Candy worked at a nearby oil production plant as a secretary. Her duties also included doing payroll for the oilfield construction company that owned the property adjacent to the Standard Oil lease.

She enjoyed her job and the interactions with the various salesmen, contractors, and workers that visited her office.

Her older brother worked for Standard Oil and helped her get that job. The company, Jerry's Construction, did most of their work for Standard and Shell. It was a job that kept her busy, but she enjoyed it, the pay, and benefits were adequate.

We discussed our jobs and our families. Her father was the Maintenance Manager for the Shaver School District. He was looking forward to his retirement in three years when he'd have his 30 years of service with the District.

Shaver was a relatively small district that encompassed a High School, Junior High, and an elementary school. All three schools were located on the same street. The high school was at the northern end and the junior high sandwiched between them and the elementary school on the far south end.

The maintenance building, the bus barn, and the administrative offices were across the street behind the schools.

Her mother worked part-time for the district as a teacher's aide. She had done that for almost 20 years.

Time went by much too fast. In the distance we could see kids and adults filing out of the indoor chapel.

"Let's meet back here at 10:30," Candy suggested. "Once the kids are out, we can do what we want. Same place?"

She was more familiar with the culture of the camp, so I agreed to meet her if it didn't cause a problem for the camp managers.

"Oh, several couples come out and visit. Some go out to their cars and have a smoke. No big deal. Just make sure the kids are asleep. It's usually not a problem because they've had a long day."

I was at the amphitheater about 5 minutes early. Most of my kids were asleep before 9:30. By the time the lights were out by 10, every one of them had ventured off to dreamland.

Lights out truly meant "lights out"! All outside lamps were turned off and the only illumination I had was my flashlight; although a very good flashlight with a strong beam. I had to point it directly at the ground or the brightness might have been too much for the other cabin dwellers.

That flashlight belonged to my late uncle. He had been on the police force for 25 years before retiring. Shortly after retiring, he suffered a fatal heart attack. My aunt insisted that I have his flashlight since he had no sons to pass it down, just daughters. She believed that I would make much better use of it in the future.

While at the amphitheater, I saw Margo, a woman in her 40s that was a member of our church and had been part of the activities committee for several years. Each summer, she and her husband, Leon, would act as counselors and activities coordinators for the camp.

If it was okay for Margo and Leo to be there, I was much more confident that it was fine for me to meet Candy there.

I told her that I was meeting a girl named Candy.

"Candy Adams?' she asked.

"Yes, Ma'am," I responded. "You know her?"

"I know enough about her. Nice girl. Nice family. Kind of strange, but nice. Honest people, but kind of unconventional."

I wasn't sure what she meant. It seemed like a contradictory statement. "Nice, but strange? Unconventional?"

I tried to get her to give me details, but she suggested that I hear it straight from Candy.

I walked toward the pathway that I knew Candy would be taking to meet me. I finally heard some footsteps coming from the distance. A few seconds later, she emerged...wearing a smile...and that same sweatshirt she wore earlier...and the same short gym shorts.

I told her that Margo was waiting for her husband at the amphitheater. Candy suggested that we sit at the few tables located outside the snack bar near the telephone booth.

"A little more privacy," she suggested.

I asked her about Margo's comments about her and her family.

"Oh, Margo's a good lady. Don't get too ruffled. She's kind of right about us, although only from her perspective. I don't think we're strange, but considering what some consider normal, I guess we are.

Margo and Leon are good people. Leon works as a custodian at my dad's school district. Dad likes him. Says he's a hell of a good worker.

"Why use words like strange and unconventional then? It makes you sound kind of defective."

Candy let out a nervous laugh.

"You know, Wally, I really kind of like you although we just met earlier today. I'll tell you a little bit more about us."

"Do you know what nudism is?"

I had to think about it for a few seconds before answering.

"Well, I guess it's for people that like to be naked. That's all I can get out of it."

"That's a big part of it," she agreed. "It's a little more than that, though."

I sat quietly and listened to her explain that she and her brother were raised in a nudist home.

She emphasized that it wasn't some weird sexual or incestual crap. Her mom and dad would never have approved or initiated any kind of behavior like that.

She also explained something much more personal to her than simply enjoying a nudist lifestyle, which in 1980 was even rarer than it is today.

Her health. To be more specific, her previous health scares when she was a young teen. She became more emotional.

"Wally, I can't ever have any children. Ever. When I was 12, I was having problems as soon as I began having my cycle. By the time I was 13, I had several cysts and I had to have a partial hysterectomy. The next year, I had the other one removed.

My dad's uncle in San Jose, who's a firm believer in holistic medicine, sends me several bottles of a natural remedy for the estrogen needs. He also is able to discretely send me some cannabis. I smoke it in very small amounts.

I'm not a stoner by any stretch of the imagination, but he beat prostrate cancer using only holistic methods. He still enjoys a little cannabis each day to keep the cancer at bay. It's worked for 15 years so far. Total remission."

I remained quiet. I wasn't sure what to say. I looked down at the ground as opposed to the direct eye contact that I usually maintained.

"Does this change your opinion of me, Wally?" she asked, sounding worried. "I'm sure I'm different from what you expected, but I'm really a good person. Good family. Good friends. People you'd enjoy knowing."

I looked up. I felt as clumsy and insecure about talking to a girl than I'd ever been in my life.

I had always taken pride in being a good person but being the typical teen/young adult I had been guided by hormones and lust. I had made decisions using what my cock wanted, not what was necessarily best for me.

I could accept the fact that she was barren. She had no control over that. Pot? I knew I could never smoke it because most future job possibilities would require drug screening.

The nudism? That was a concern, although when I saw her earlier, I tried to imagine what she looked like without those short gym shorts and camp t-shirt covering her body.

But her whole family? What if I met them? Would they expect me to join them? I tried to remain open-minded about it, but it was something that I was completely unprepared for.

If she had just told me she was no longer a virgin, that would have been easy to accept. I certainly wasn't a virgin and didn't expect a woman a year older than I was to be one.

I shared my concerns. I asked if she was telling me so much because she considered me to be potentially more than just a friend from camp.

"What do you think?" she asked.

I wasn't sure if it was a rhetorical question, or one that required an answer. I chose to answer.

"Sounds like it," I stammered. "Why else would you share something so personal such as ovarian problems and nudism?"

"I like you, Wally. I'm sitting out here in the cold with you with barely any lighting. If I had any sense, I'd be inside my cabin with the girls tucked inside a warm sleeping bag. How's that for an answer?"

That's the reason I was out there as well. I noticed she kept rubbing her ears to warm them up. I took a knit cap out of my pocket.

"Here, wear this. You can give it back when the week is up."

"Thank you, sweetie," she said nicely. "Are you sure you won't need it?"

"If I do, I'll buy one in the gift shop tomorrow. I was raised to be a gentleman. A lady's comfort is always a priority to the man's.

This is yours for the week...unless you want to keep it. Then, it's yours to keep."

She hugged me and thanked me again.

"A gentleman. So far, you have passed that test. Thank you again. I like this one. My favorite team. The Dodgers."

I had bought that knit cap the previous April while at a very cool evening game at Dodgers Stadium. It was my favorite, but seeing how much Candy liked it, I had already decided that I wanted her to keep it...no matter where the friendship went.

"Is that nudism thing too much for you to handle?" she asked. "I understand if it is."

I looked at her and tried to smile. I couldn't give her a broad beaming smile; just a friendly grin.

"Let me sleep on it, okay? I do like you, though. It's not like I haven't had other girls see me naked before."

Her head perked up and her eyes widened.

"Oh yeah?"

"Maybe tomorrow during activities we can meet right back here again. If not, we can take a walk on the trail for privacy. We can share our experiences."

"Wally, just so you know...no, I'm not a virgin. I suspect you aren't either, right?"

"That's right," I answered. "I'm not exactly a player, but yes I have had a couple different partners."

"Same here," she replied. "I don't live in the past, though. I can't change it. I want to know more about you. You intrigue me for some reason."

I concurred. There was something about her that day in the lunch room that got me attention. It was more than just the faces we made at each other. There was an unspoken attraction.

Although there was a physical attraction, my focus wasn't on getting her in bed. My motives were much more honest...although I did love those long legs on her nearly 6 foot frame.

I was fortunate to have 7 very well-behaved kids. During the entire week, there was never a problem of any sort. They got up on time, got their showers, and most were asleep long before the final lights were out.

Fortunately for Candy, she could say the same. She knew all her girls well. She had ages 13-15 and 6 of them were under her direction the previous year.

This made our efforts to spend time together much easier. Already, Margo had mentioned to a few people that we had met the prior evening. That wasn't a bad thing except that I thought it was premature to assume that we were an item.

We seemed to like each other quite a bit, but it was only one day...and not even a full one at that. The most positive thing was that we were eagerly looking forward to our next time together. That would be after lunch when the kids would spend the next 90 minutes in various activities.

It was a warmer day than the previous one and she was dressed in a similar way as the previous. Instead of her blue shorts, she was wearing gray ones and with another camp t-shirt identical to first one.

I was wearing blue jeans that had been cut off and the mandatory camp t-shirt as well. Again, I noticed no evidence of a bra. Now that I knew she was a nudist, that no longer surprised me. She was accustomed to wearing less than that.

She wasted no time starting the conversation.

"Ok, Wally...here it is. I'm no saint, but I'm certainly not the devil either. It began when I was 19 and I went with my parents to a natural mineral springs about 40 minutes from our house."

About that time, two other women sat down at the table next to us. She quit talking.

"My truck is just down the road. You can almost see that bright orange from here."

I had a 1973 Datsun pickup with a burnt orange paint job. I had bought it that way from a dealer two years prior. It came with mag wheels, but I changed it to regular ones soon after. I liked the looks of it better that way and it ran well.

I opened the passenger door for her.

"Yep, you've got this gentleman thing going quite well, mister."

"It's how I was raised, Candy. My dad still opens my mom's car door and they've been married for almost 25 years."

"I wouldn't mind meeting them sometime," she replied. "Looks like they taught you well."

"Who knows?" I replied. "I'm very proud of them."

"That makes two of us. I'm proud of the way I was raised, although I'm sure you're still confused by it."

For some reason, that made me laugh louder than I expected. She gave me a strange look. It wasn't an angry look, just one of surprise.

"I think confused is a good word. It still sounded funny. I don't know why. If it bothered me too much, we wouldn't be sitting her sharing so much stuff though, would I?"

"No, I think you'll be fine...at least for now. Maybe when I'm done though..."

I wasn't sure what to think about that statement. I just let her explain.

"Wally, I went once with Mom and Dad to that natural mineral springs spa that I told you about.

While I was there, I met this guy named Kenny. He's about 15 years older than me.

There were about a dozen of us there. Kenny kind of blended in with everyone else but we kind of enjoyed fun conversations; often kind of witty.

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