Coeds at CampbySpengler©
"A nudist camp?"
Margie Stone's eyes grew as large as the saucer under her cup.
Several of the Starbucks customers turned from the their lattes and stared.
"Shhh! You don't have to announce it to the world!" Tina hissed.
"A nudist camp!"
"Jeez, Margie, keep it down! I had like twenty places on my list. I didn't read the ad carefully."
Margie shook her head. Her short black hair bounced.
"I love you, Tina Lambert -- you're my best friend. But, God, you are such a klutz!"
"Hey, it's a job."
"You're not seriously thinking about it, are you?"
Tina said nothing, just stared at the creamy goo in her cup.
"My God, you are!"
"Mr. Samuels -- he runs the place -- he said he thought I'd do fine."
"I'm sure he did! Was his dick in his hand when he said it?"
A prickle of pink rose on Tina's throat.
"No! I mean, how would I know? He was wearing a pullover and tennis shorts. Besides, he's an old guy -- probably forty. Not bad looking though."
"I cannot believe you, Tina-Marina. I cannot fucking believe you! If you had red hair I'd call it Lucy Goes to the Nudist Colony. I'm sitting here listening to this like fucking Ethel."
"I thought it was, like, a summer camp for kids," Tina said. She brightened. "It's real pretty, though. Whispering Pines. Doesn't that sound like a nice place?
Margie shook her head.
"How about you? What did you find today?" Tina asked.
"I hit every fucking place in Eastgate Mall. Old Navy has one sales job open -- about a thousand people were there to apply."
"Looks like another tour at Mickey Dees for you!" Tina said smugly.
Margie stirred her coffee idly.
"So what's it like?" she asked. Were there a lot of naked people? Do the guys' cocks stay hard? Were people fucking in the woods?"
"Jeez, Margie, it's not like that. I mean, you know, it's more like the country club. Swimming pool. Volleyball. Tennis courts. Things like that. Anyway, it doesn't open for another week. I didn't see any members"
Margie raised an eybrow.
"All kinds of physical activities, huh?"
"You're hopeless! Besides, it's a clothing optional resort. You don't have to take your clothes off. I'll probably get a couple more bikinis."
"Oh, yeah right, sweetie. They hired you for your IQ. I'm sure the guy took a look at this little honey-blonde, blue-eyed dreamboat and thought, Hey, this chick will look great in a two-piece! Face it, doll, he's probably thinking about you and strokin' his poke right now."
"Margie! It's not like that!!"
"Okay, okay. So it's scout camp with no place to pin the merit badges. What are you going to be doing at Blistering Pines -- besides giving head to the camp counselor?"
"It's Whispierinig Pines, Margie. I start in the cafe until I can --"
"Wait a minute! You're flipping burgers naked at a pervert palace? Jeez, Marie! At least I get an ugly blue uniform at Mickey Dees!"
"But there are other things, too!" Tina was defensive.
"Do me a favor, sweetheart," Margie laughed. "Wear something on top. I hate to think of hot grease splattering all over those apple-tits!"
"Okay, laugh, Marge -- at least I'll get six hundred a week while you're getting six bucks a hour to say, wanna hot apple pie with that?"
Margie's latte stopped halfway to her mouth.
"Six hundred a week?"
"I'll be lying at the pool in the evening while you're explaining for the twentieth time why the milkshake machine doesn't work!"
"Wait a minute. Did you say six hundred a week?"
"Yeah, that's right. Maybe if they let you table dance at Mickey Dees you can make three hundred."
"Tina, six hundred a week is more than seventh thousand dollars for the summer!"
"Yeah. I know -- I got C's in math."
"That's tuition, books and fuck-around money left over."
Margie stared at Tina for a long moment.
"Do they have anymore openings?" she asked.
Laci Roosevelt leaned back in her chair and stretched long legs over the metal desk. Muscled thighs bulged from a very tight, very short black skirt.
"Mr. Sam picked a real pair this time," she said.
Tina and Margie stood before her in tee-shirts and shorts, their hands primly behind their backs.
"You two got your health department papers?"
The girls fished in their handbags and put the papers on the desk.
"Either of you got experience," Laci asked as she scanned the papers.
"Two summers under the arches," Margie said.
"Three summers with the king," Tina said.
"Well, it ain't that frantic here. No excuse for fuck-ups, if you get my drift," Laci said.
The girls nodded.
The woman swung her legs from the desk and rose from her chair.
The girls' eyes widened.
Laci Roosevelt was six feet tall, black as the telephone on the desk, and had legs that made Tina Turner's look like soda straws. A taut six-pack peeked out from under a black hammock full of ebony breasts. She walked to a metal cabinet.
"I'll get your uniforms," she said.
Tina looked at Margie and smiled.
Laci tossed two baseball caps on the desk.
"There," she said.
The girls stared at the caps. Each had Whispering Pines embroideried on the front.
"Where's the rest?" Margie asked.
"There ain't no rest."
"Mr. Samuels said this was a clothing optional resort," Tina said.
"That's right -- and I opt that you ain't gonna wear no clothes," Laci replied.
"You mean, we've gotta work -- naked?" Tina said, not taking her eyes from the caps.
"Nekkid as September Morn, bare as the day you were born. Look, girlfriends, if I wanted a Today's Gourmet award-winning chef I'd hired a fat gay guy with a prick the size of a cocktail sausage. Hot Twat is not on the menu, but it's what drags 'em in."
Tina and Margie stared at the caps, then at each other.
"You creampuffs in or out?" Laci asked.
Neither girl said anything.
"Tips is real good," Laci said.
"Well --" Margie said.
Laci slapped the desk.
"Good! Now, keep those pretty locks tucked under the caps. The health department keeps a close eye on us here, if you know what I mean."
The girls picked up the caps gingerly.
"Which reminds me of something else," Laci said.
"What?" Margie asked.
"Drop your drawers."
"What?" Tina dropped her jaw.
"You heard me, doff the Dockers. Lose the Levis. I gotta check something."
The girls stared at each other.
"Oh, for crissakes! I'm gonna see more of your little asses this summer than your mammas ever did. Shed the shorts!"
Margie shrugged, opened the button on her jeans shorts, and pushed them down enough to reveal the band of her black bikini briefs.
"What are you looking at?" Margie snapped.
"Nothing," Tina said.
"Hey, Tina-Marina, this was your idea!"
"Yeah, but you coulda told me I was crazy, Marge."
Tina slowly unbuttoned her own shorts and pushed them down just enough to reveal the white cotton panties.
Laci stood with her hands on her hips.
"Down with the diapers, too, ladies," she said.
"I mean, I -- we--we've never seen each other -- that way" Tina said.
"And they told me you two was close friends!" she said.
Margie looked at Tina and shrugged.
"What the hell."
She shoved her panties down. A little triangle of black down stood out in stark contrast to the white skin of her thighs.
"What are you staring at? she demanded again.
Tina turned bright red.
"Ain't that cute," Laci said. "Your turn, Tinkerbell."
Tina turned her face away, hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and slowly pushed them down until the dark blonde vee became visible.
Laci clucked her tongue and shook her head.
"Just what I thought," she said. "Fuzz! Fuzz gotta go!"
"What?" Margie stiffened and her shorts fell to her ankles.
"Ladies, fur-burgers is just a figure of speech. Ain't nobody want pubes on their plates. The thatch leaves the snatch!"
"Where's Mr. Samuels?" Tina demanded. "I want to talk to him."
"He's down on the coast opening Whispering Seabreezes. I'm in charge for a week," Laci said.
"I think we made a mistake!" Tina whispered.
Margie ignored her.
"Just how big are the tips, Laci?" she asked.
Laci grinned, displaying a keyboard of ivory.
"Honey, every waitress knows the theory of tits for tips. The more jiggle -- the more jingle. Just imagine what they pay for a full front cunt."
"I don't believe it!" Tina whispered. "Where do they carry their cash?"
"Be quiet, Tina-Marina." Margie said.
She looked down at her tiny muff and tweaked a sprig.
"It'll grow back, sweetie," Laci said.
"Margie! We can't-- "
"Shut up, Tina-Marina."
"That's the ticket, thin the thicket!" Laci said.
She went to the cabinet and took out a towel and cardboard box, cleared away papers on the desk with the sweep of a thick black arm and spread the towel.
"You're the plucky one, Snow White," she said to Margie. "You go first."
She patted the towel.
"Step right up to Laci's Salon. We'll trim that crotch a notch."
"Here? Right now?" .
"No time like the present."
Margie looked at Tina.
"Seven thousand dollars -- plus tips. Just keep saying that over and over, Tina," she said.
She took a deep breath, then stepped out of her panties. Tina instinctively pulled her own back up over her little mound as she watched Margie's pale pear bottom cheeks move to the table.
"That's it, girlfriend, just sit right up here and open wide," Laci said.
Margie perched and opened her mouth open.
"Got a real smart-ass here, don't we?"
She grasped Margie's thighs and pulled them apart, forcing the girl back on her elbows.
Tina drew a sharp breath as her friend's naked vulva came fully into view. Its pink cleft peeked demurely from the dark strands.
"Now ain't that a cute little thing," Laci said. "Bet your boyfriend loves that!"
It was Margie's turn to blush.
Laci took scissors from the box, twirled a curl of Margie's dark down between her thumb and forefinger, and clipped it neatly near the base. She held the sprig up and turned to Tina.
Tina shook her head. Laci dropped the curl and it wafted lazily into a wastebasket.
"Ah, be real careful down there, Laci," Margie said.
"Don't sweat it, sweetie. I ain't gonna hurt you. You'll find out Laci don't let nothin' bad happen to her girls."
She clipped the hair away and Tina saw her friend's vermilion slit come into view.
"Uh, you're not, like -- a lesbo or something are you, Laci?" Margie asked.
"Hell of a question to ask a woman who's got scissors poised at your pussy," Laci said.
"Nah, I like men -"
"That's a relief," Margie sighed.
"--most of the time. But you know what they say -- nothin' could be finer than a tender young vagina in the mornin'!"
"Shit!" Margie whispered.
Tina's hand instinctively covered her crotch.
Margie stared down at the stubble between her legs as Laci put away the scissors.
"That's ugly," she said.
"Ain't done, sweetie."
She took a spray bottle from the box and shot a heavy mist onto Margie's denuded crotch.
"Ooh! What's that?"
"Just God's own pure water, honey. You lean back now."
The woman took a can of Colgate menthol shaving cream from the box, squirted a large dollop onto her long fingers and began massaging it on. The girl's green eyes flickered, then glossed.
"That ain't bad, is it, sweetie-pie?"
"No, I guess not. I mean, it doesn't hurt. It --"
"Seven thousand dollars," Tina said softly
"Yeah," Margie said. "It's the money. Seven thousand -- oohh!"
"I guess that's about got it covered." Laci laughed. She took a straight razor from the box.
"Oh, shit!" Tina exclaimed, then slapped her hand over her mouth.
"Don't worry, ladies. I ain't never damaged the merchandise -- yet. Now you be real still, Snow White."
"I'm a statue!" Margie said.
Laci scraped the blade carefully downward, removing the cream and the last vestiges of Margie's pubic hair.
"You okay, Marge?" Tina asked.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm, ummm, okay."
Laci sprayed the vulva again then patted it dry with a towel.
"How does that look, sweetheart?"
Margie bent forward.
"I look like a little girl!"
"Ain't seen no little girl with a gash like that," Laci said.
She shook some liquid from a small bottle into the palm of one hand, then slapped it between Margie's legs.
"Yeoww! That stings!"
"Don't want no infection, doll. Little dab of Chanel No. 5 will keep the germs away. Ass off the desk, Snow White."
Laci lifted Margie like a rag-doll and sat her on her feet, then turned to Tina.
"Next," she said and grinned.
"You know, I've never really looked at one of these up close," Margie Stone said. "Are they all about the same, Laci?"
She stood behind the big woman bent at the waist and staring between Tina Lambert's wide-stretched legs.
"What is this, a freaking biology lab?" Tina said, tugging her tee-shirt as far down as it would go.
"Pretty much the same," Laci said as she clipped at the dark blonde tuft. "Different sizes, different ages. Actually, y'all white girls all look alike."
"What about that?" Margie pointed at the pink clitoris peeking through the remaining down.
"Hmm." Laci grasped the little button between her thumb and forefinger.
"I think she's got you beat by a couple of millimeters," Laci said, then clipped another curl.
"Oh, can I have that?" Margie asked.
"I ain't got no use for it," Laci handed her the strand.
"Margie! Are you a freaking perv or something?" Tina hissed.
Margie shrugged as she examined the little curl.
"Nah. But when the guys ask if you're really a blonde --"
"Margie Stone! You do and I'll -- woo-hoo!"
The stream of cool water from Laci's bottle hit its target.
"Oh! Can I do the next part?" Margie asked.
"Why not," Laci said and squirted a small mound of cream onto the girl's fingers.
"Margie! You better not -- you---ohh! Ohh!"
"Am I doing it right?"
"Yeah, baby, but you don't have to rub so hard. I don't want no orgasms on my desk. That's enough."
"Okay. Can I --"
Tina raised up on her elbows.
"I reckon I better do the next part -- don't want no blood on the desk neither."
"What's yours like?" Margie asked as she watched Laci scrape away the cream with the razor. "I mean, I bet it's really -- you know, big!"
"Gettin' a little personal for first day on the job, ain't you, sweetcakes? Step back a bit, hon -- I don't want to accidentally slice off that pretty pug nose."
"I was just wondering."
"Jeez, Marge -- let the woman concentrate on what she's doing!" Tina said, peering down the length of her abdomen.
"You was just wondering if black women had big pussies and black men had big dicks. You was just stereotypin', wasn't you?" said as she finished shaving Tina.
"No. Well, I was just curious."
Laci sprayed Tina again and daubed her dry.
"Well, Snow White, there ain't many secrets at Whispering Pines."
She shook some perfume into her palm.
"Maybe you two will learn a lot of things!" she grinned and slapped it onto the bare vulva.
"Now ain't y'all purty."
Laci Roosevelt stood with her hands on her hips surveying her work. Tina and Margie stood before her in nothing but tee-shirts, sandals and Whispering Pines ball caps.
"Smooth as a baby's butt," Laci said. "Now, y'all keep 'em that way -- I ain't got time to go shavin' no twinkie-twats every morning.
"Yes, ma'am," the girls said in chorus.
"I got stuff to do. I'm gonna take you over to Maribeth. She's the rec director. She'll show you around the place."
"Uh, Laci?" Margie said.
"Are we supposed to go like this?" Margie said, looking down at her half-naked body.
"Heavens, no!" Laci said.
She grinned with her white keyboard teeth.
"Get rid of them tee-shirts."