Good Times at Kamp Kinokee

The sun set early behind storm clouds to the west, an increasing moderate wind put a chop on the surface of Lake Kinokee and mosquitoes finally took a break from their incessant hunting.

Patrolling the camp a couple of hours after lights out, he wandered the grounds in the dark, keeping an eye out for young campers who might be tempted to break the rules by slipping out of their cabins after the 11 p.m. curfew.

Last year, there had been quite a bunch of little smart asses who thought they knew best, thought they could sneak around, thought they could ignore the rules and could best ol' Shaker.

Often, it turned out last year, a day full of paddling, swimming lessons, first-aid, nature education, arts and crafts and fitness training hadn't tired out young punks who wanted to creep out in the dark to have a beer someone snuck in, smoke a joint or maybe make out in a secluded spot. Hell, last year, he even caught a kid trying to sneak into the kitchen to steal food for a raccoon he'd adopted. He'd let that kid go with just a warning.

Kids that tried to break the rules soon found out, though, that they couldn't put one past the Shaker; that the Shaker always caught them, that the Shaker always knew what was going on.

This year, though, the kids were better at following the rules and he wondered if word had gotten around from some of the kids that had been at the camp last year.

Whatever, he thought, if some smartasses started acting up, he'd have 'em before Chief Brown, the Kamp Kinokee director. Last year, a few of them had been sent home early, to explain to their parents why they couldn't follow the rules. Not many of them wanted to argue when the local police chief threw the book at them.

Old Brown was kind of a hardass, but hey, he'd given him a job last year when he got back from the 'Stan, which was more than most people would do. Luckily, Brown and his old man had been friends and when he got out of the army, needing work that didn't involve getting shot at, he'd looked up Brown and asked if he had any openings.

Also luckily, Brown's outdoor education teacher had broken a leg in a car crash a week before camp, the chump, so there was an opening. He was back again this year, because Brown knew he could rely on him to keep order.

He wandered in the dark, deciding he'd move through the entire boys' side of the camp before he turned in. Barefoot, in cutoffs and a sleeveless T-shirt, he moved quietly through the dark, checking the kitchen, moving down to the dock area where the canoes were tied up and around the woodshed where he'd found a punk having a toke the first week of camp.

As he neared the lean-to where the outdoor grill was located, built at the side of the open air building right in the middle of camp where both boy and girl campers gathered for meals, he heard something. He stood still in the dark, trying to decide what it was he was hearing, and where the sound was coming from.

He heard it again. A soft sound, coming from the lean-to. As the moon peaked from behind some clouds, he moved into the shadows of some trees that overhung the lean-to. Climbing up into the tree on a low branch, he edged out on the branch, lying full-length on it, until he could peer under the edge of the lean-to's roof.

He grinned in the dark. He knew it. In the minimal glow given off by a big digital clock over the grill, he could vaguely see a couple of campers. Moving a couple of feet further out on the large branch he was lying on, he could see them more clearly now in the bluish glow.

What have we here, he thought. It looked like, yes, it was, it was the kid from Cabin 3. The one with the glasses, Andrew. Kinda dweebie, but responsible enough to be a cabin leader at 18 and be in charge of younger kids. Shaker's eyes grew more accustomed to the blue light and he could see that Andrew was standing near one of the picnic tables, his shorts and tighty whities around his ankles.

Seated on the picnic table's bench seat, but facing away from it and toward Andrew was the cute blonde who was the strongest swimmer on the girls' side of the camp. He didn't know her name, but he could just make out her face in the dim light. As he watched though, swimmer girl's head was moving slowly as she sucked on Andrew's cock.

Lucky little fucker, thought Shaker. The sound he'd heard had been her slurping on him. He watched as Andrew stood in the lean-to, with swimmer girl working him. Andrew's head was back, he saw a glint of light from his glasses, and his hands were on his hips. Swimmer girl's hands were on Andrew's thighs and he watched her ponytail bob as she blew the kid.

He almost jumped down to break it up, but thought, hell, the kid was all right, no harm was being done. Swimmer girl was in a bikini and Shaker gazed at her tight young body... moving as she gave Andrew a blowjob worthy of a pro. And just 18, too, he thought. Talented.

Shaker rested his face on his hand on the tree trunk, watching as swimmer girl devoured Andrew's cock, taking him quite deep, then sucking just his head. Now he could hear some quiet moans coming from Andrew. No shit. And slightly more noise from swimmer girl as she went to town on him.

Shaker's cock stirred in his shorts as he watched. As swimmer girl pulled off to gaze at Andrew's cock, Shaker looked around the area. He caught a glint of something from the other side of the lean-to and looked a little to the side of where he thought he'd seen it. He saw the glint again, then it moved behind the roofline. Is that some dumb shit watching them, he wondered?

Looking back, swimmer girl had just taken Andrew back into her mouth. Shaker wondered about the couple of glints of light he'd seen. He reached into a pocket of his shorts, took out a few coins and, looking at the kids, Andrew's cock was back in swimmer girl's mouth, he muttered, "sorry kids" and tossed the coins in back of the lean-to where they tinkled against a big propane tank there.

He watched as the girl pulled her mouth off Andrew's cock and looked up at him. They didn't say anything, but Andrew pulled up his shorts and undies and the two of them took off into the dark, heading back to their cabins.

Shaker lied on the tree where he was for quite a while, but didn't see or hear anything else out of the ordinary. Well, he thought, I guess I'll call it a night. He chuckled when he thought of Andrew back in his cabin, masturbating like crazy while thinking of the swimmer girl's mouth on him.

Torture.

Next day, Shaker awoke with morning wood; he'd been dreaming of the swimmer girl in action. He kicked off the covers on his bed, got up, wandered into the bathroom and took a few minutes to masturbate and get off. Stepping to the fridge in his tiny cabin, he opened the door, pulled out a beer and leftover pizza, then walked out onto the small verandah.

He plunked down in a chair. "Breakfast of champions." He cracked the beer, then looked over the grounds, toward the lean-to. The glint off something was still in his mind and he wondered what it had been from. He'd find out.

The next couple of days he spent teaching kids how to canoe, how not to tip them, paddle in a straight line, load gear into them and lash things down securely. There was a two-day paddle/camp coming up and he wanted to make sure at least most of them knew what they were doing; it'd save having to go in after them.

This morning, he had a list of repairs to make on canoes, paddles and life jackets. Lunch, in the open air eatery, was burgers and salad. Not bad, he thought. He had a chuckle when he saw Andrew having lunch with the campers in his cabin. He was eating his burger, all right, and trying not to look to hard a few tables over where the swimmer girl was sitting at a table, trying not to look at Andrew too much. Andrew had on a muscle shirt, with not a lot of muscles apparent, a boonie hat and baggy shorts that looked ideal for covering up a hard-on.

Walking to the barbecue for another burger, Shaker checked out the swimmer girl; tight camp t-shirt, short shorts, flip flops, blonde hair in a ponytail. Nice, he thought. He looked back at Andrew... no accounting for taste.

Walking back to the dock and the canoe repairs, he noticed the swimmer girl giving some younger kids lessons. He moseyed over. The sweet young thing looked even better up close and now in a tight-fitting bikini for swimming. Well titted too.

"Can I help you?" came a voice from behind him. Turning, he saw that it was his counterpart on the girls' side of the camp, Darlene. She was dressed in a camp t-shirt as well, short shorts that showed nice legs and flip flops. Brunette hair was pulled out the back of a ball cap and she was wearing mirror shades.

"Nah," he said, "I was just going to jump in and cool off before I finish with the canoes."

"Maybe you should, Brittany's busy with a class here."

Brittany, eh, he thought. "Yes ma'am." Shaker walked to the end of the dock, pulled his shirt, turned to face Darlene then in slow motion fell backwards into the lake.

"Asshole," she muttered. Still, when he pulled off his shirt...

The next night, he was prowling in the dark again, making sure all the cabins were shut up for the night and nobody was on the loose. The moon shone bright, it was almost full, and Shaker wore all black; he had a suspicion he was going to find someone out after curfew.

He made his usual circuit of the camp's grounds, then moved quietly toward the lean-to again. Stopping, he heard something yet again. He climbed into the tree once again, eased out onto the same branch as before and peered under the roof edge and into the lean-to.

"Sonofabitch" he muttered. He shook his head. They were on the same picnic table. But this time, Andrew was stretched out on his back on top of it and Brittany, as he knew now, was sitting on his face, her hands in his hair. The noise he heard was a low moan from Brittany. He heard it again as Andrew's face was buried in her pussy. He couldn't see the kid's mouth, but he pictured him tonguing away at her sweet lips.

Looking at Andrew's baggy shorts, the same ones he'd had on at lunch, he could see they didn't completely hide his hard-on. He also noticed Brittany's taut ass, the skin pulled tight as she straddled his face. Too bad she'd left her shirt on, he thought.

As he watched, Andrew happily kept his face between her legs, lapping away at her. Nice, he thought, bet that's tasty. But then, again from the other side of the lean-to, and off a ways, he saw a glint like he'd noticed the other night. He saw it again, just a Brittany let out another low moan. Andrew must be doing good work, he thought.

He wanted to watch Andrew finish the swimmer girl, but Shaker's curiosity got the better of him. He eased back down the tree branch, hit the ground, then, with a picture of where he'd seen the glint in his mind, made his way around back of the lean-to.

Slowly and quietly, he eased through some dark trees toward where he thought the glint had been. Barefoot, he made no noise as he eased between trees, pulling branches aside and moving through them. He stopped now and then to listen and scan the shadows created by the moon shining through the trees.

He was about ready to give up when he heard something. A slight noise, very slight, to his right, he judged. He took a couple more steps to where he thought he'd heard it and stopped. He crouched down and peered under the lower branches of a large spruce tree.

About 20 feet away, he could see someone, leaning against a tree trunk. Easing down, he slipped under the low spruce branches and moved about three feet closer. On his belly now, he watched. Then, as a cloud above moved, the full moon shone brightly down and he recognized Darlene.

She was leaning against a tree and holding a pair of binoculars to her eyes. He looked in the direction she was looking and saw they were pointed at the lean-to. Looking back at her, he noticed she was holding the binoculars with one hand. He also noticed her other hand was in her shorts. As Darlene viewed Andrew and Brittany through the binoculars, she was playing with herself. Atta girl, he thought.

Lying beneath the tree, needles and leaves were making him itch, but he kept watching Darlene. He could see her hand working rhythmically in her shorts and after a few minutes, he watched as she tensed up, then nearly dropped the binoculars as she came and tried not to moan. Shaker smiled in the dark and thought, this camp is getting better and better. Too bad she wasn't naked, he thought, but that was fun.

He watched as Darlene slipped away, he thought likely to her cabin. He quietly got off the ground, then made his way back toward the now empty lean-to. He wondered if Darlene had cum at the same time Brittany did, if she did. He moved through the night back to his cabin and fell asleep, dreaming of eating and fingering.

Things were pretty quiet for a couple of days. Shaker had watched Brittany giving swimming lessons, there'd be some nice breast stroking there, watched Darlene around the camp, with a growing appreciation for the body under her t-shirts and shorts and watched Andrew moping around. He wondered if Brittany had cut him off for some reason, poor kid.

At one point, lying under a canoe to get out of the sun and have a nap, he'd wakened and noticed feet in flip flops walking up to the canoe. He peered out from under the canoe and his gaze wandered up the legs of Darlene, who was wearing the shortest shorts he'd seen her in. She was keeping an eye on the swimming area and, as he watched, she reached to scratch her bottom, reaching under the leg opening. She scratched and Shaker could notice no panties under the shorts. He grinned and slipped back under the canoe. Nice.

At dinner that evening, pizza on the barbecue, Shaker watched the three of them. Darlene spent the meal talking with other camp leaders and Andrew and Brittany were back to carefully not watching each while looking at each other. Is there some kind of invitation there, he wondered. As Darlene leaned forward, elbows on the picnic table, Shaker watched her ass, trying to gauge if she was commando again. He hoped so, for some reason.

As he was getting up from the table, he noticed Brittany wink at Andrew, then he got up and left. Hmm. That was a signal, he was sure of it. Tomorrow, he had to head out on the paddle/camp thing right after dawn, but the ol' Shaker would have to make another patrol tonight, he decided. To find out what the kids might be up to and to find out if Darlene would be on the prowl.

Shaker crashed after dinner for a short while, knowing he'd likely be up late that night. When he woke up, it had clouded over and looked like rain. Shit, he didn't want to head out on the paddle in the rain with a bunch of drenched kids. Oh well, that's why they paid him the shitty money.

He walked to the window and looked out. It seemed quiet, but he had a hunch it wasn't going to be for the whole night. He checked the temperature on the thermometer outside the window and noticed that, at least, it was nice, hot even. Hot and rainy was one thing, cool and rainy sucked. Hot and humid, he thought, not like the 'Stan at all.

Naked, he walked to the fridge, pulled out a beer and guzzled it down. He pulled on a pair of black cargo pocket shorts, then dug into a drawer and pulled out a stick of black camo paint. He pulled on a black sleeveless shirt, then took the stick and applied some tiger stripes to his arms, thighs and face. That'll do, he thought.

Shaker slipped out of his cabin. It was quiet. A flash of lightning off in the distance lit the sky momentarily. He wondered if the possibility of rain would keep the kids in their cabins. Then he thought of Brittany giving Andrew head and of him eating her and thought, not likely.

This time, he moved quietly, but directly, toward the lean-to, more than half expecting them to be inside once again. He climbed into the tree for his usual view and frowned when he didn't see them. He looked at his watch, the glowing hands showed 11:15, about when he'd seen them out after curfew before.

He climbed back out of the tree and then, barefoot, began moving around the grounds, between the buildings, even looking under the cabins that were raised a couple of feet off the ground. No sign of anybody, or anything. That was good and bad, he thought. Good because nobody was breaking curfew. Bad because he kind of wanted to see the kids in action again. He was horny.

A few large raindrops came down as he stood in the dark near Brown's cabin. It was really dark as clouds had closed over and shut out the moonlight. He could see the blue light of a television flickering behind the blind in Brown's cabin and wondered if he was doing his wife.

Shaker looked around again, thinking. If the kids were going to meet, but they weren't in the lean-to, even with rain likely, where would they be? They'd been meeting at the lean-to, which was between the two camps; not on the boys' side, not on the girls' side, but in the middle. The dock, he thought, picturing Brittany in her bikini, I bet they're at the dock.

He made his way toward the dock, moving through the trees on the edge of the camp until he got to the beach area. It was freakin' dark, he thought, but it didn't bother him. Night ops were no big deal and there was nobody around here likely to start shooting. He waded into the warm water at the beach and stood under a huge poplar that leaned out over the water.

It seemed even darker under the tree, but it was a good spot to watch the dock, the storage shack with lifejackets and paddles in it and the beach area. Patiently, he waited. Lightning flashed brightly overhead, with thunder booming right with it. It was directly overhead, the storm was right over the camp now. Another flash lit up the entire area, almost as bright as daylight -- and he saw them.

He was glad he was under the tree, although it was a lightning attractor, but it also kept him out of the flashes, which he now saw, the kids weren't. He chuckled when another flash illuminated them; in one of the canoes tied to the dock. Everything was inky dark now, broken only by the lightning. The next flash showed Andrew and Brittany, not too far away actually, from where he stood. If he'd kept walking the beach, he'd have pretty much tripped over them.

Brittany was bent over the centre thwart in the canoe, with Andrew behind her. With each lightning flash, the two were illuminated briefly in electric blue/white light. This time, both of them were naked, he saw, and Andrew was doing her from behind, the lucky little fucker. Brittany had a hand on each gunwale and Andrew had his hands on her hips as he fucked her. The flashes of lightning and the dark between made for a weird scene, but he kept watching. Their skin looked bizarrely white in the flashes.

As Andrew fucked her doggie style, the canoe bobbed with his efforts and sent small waves out from the craft. Little splashes and barely heard moans from Brittany were drowned out regularly by the thunder. As he watched them fuck, and Brittany's tits move as Andrew banged her, Shaker thought, man, have they been watching porn? When he saw Andrew reach for her hair and pull some back, he thought, yup, porn. Andrew at least, had been watching porn.

Suddenly, the skies opened and rain began drumming down. The entire still surface of the lake was pocked by drops. There was no wind, just the thunder, the lightning and the still surface marked by huge drops as they struck.

Still, the drops were cold and, in another flash, Shaker saw that it had put a damper on the fucking. Andrew had pulled the canoe close to the dock and they were clambering out of the craft onto the dock. Andrew first, then Brittany, with her arms full of their clothes. They ran to the storage shack and Shaker was disappointed that the clothes in her arms covered her tits.