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From: (NightShade)
Subject: RP: The Camp Nurse 6/7 (MF, Mf, Mff, teen, con)
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This is a work of fiction by a twisted mind.  If you are offended by 
graphic sexual descriptions of natural and/or unnatural acts, or if you 
are underage, don't read any further.  Also kids, don't try this at home 
without adult supervision.

This story is a fantasy.  You have to loosen your clench on reality a 
little when you read it.  As is the case with most stories in this 
newsgroup, in this story all the women are beautiful; gravity has never 
touched their breasts nor wrinkles their unblemished faces; the men (the 
hero in this story, at least) are hung like bulls and can get it up and 
keep it up at will; there are no STDs, morals, or unwanted pregnancies; 
and guilt is a four letter word.  Most of all, strength of character 
doesn’t stand a chance against any erotic stimulus, which can be as 
benign as a glance.  That being said, stick your tongue firmly in your 
cheek and enjoy.

The Camp Nurse

Chapter 6.  Virgin Territory

by NightShade

first posted 3/97; revised 12/98

[The continuing adventures of Chris Mattson, RN at an all-girls 
cheerleading camp high up in the mountains out west.  Only Chris is a 
male.  Let the fun continue.]

I was out for a long time.  I don’t remember any visitors that night, 
but I do have a vague recollection of a soft, warm body or two cuddling 
next to mine in my bed.  Come to think of it, I don’t remember getting 
out of the canoe and into the bed.  I was, however, rousted out of bed 
every 6 hours for Diane’s ‘therapy’.

It seems that Diane’s nipples re-inverted about every six hours, and she 
needed to have sexual stimulation reapplied to them or, more 
specifically, to her cunt.  Somehow the other girls, with a lot of 
helpful input from Diane, decided that the best stimulation would be in 
the form of a hard fuck.  Now, normally I wouldn’t mind the horrible 
chore of having to boff a beautiful woman four times a day, but there 
was a small, or rather a large problem.  My pecker was raw.  Rubbed raw.

It hadn’t been noticeable when Diane and I had been fucking for 12 to 18 
hours straight, but apparently, her cunt juice acted like a skin 
softener and moisturizer.  Maybe that’s why that part of a woman is 
always so soft and tender?  Ever hear of chapped cunt lips?  Or a 
crunchy one?  Neither have I.  But after having been marinated in that 
delectable sauce for that long and having been that active, the outer 
layer of skin of my prick had been debrided and that left the 
subcutaneous nerve endings and blood vessels nearly exposed.  Kind of 
like jacking off with sandpaper, or so I would imagine.  I was never 
stupid enough to do that.  So when they woke me up and began licking and 
sucking on my cock to get it ready for her therapy session, I screamed 
in pain and fainted dead away. 

My prick, however, single-minded as it is, performed great, but it did 
it without my participation.  Diane had to do all the work that first 
time, not that she minded.  The rest of the staff thought I was sleeping 
and they were kidding Diane that she had worn me out.  

Mock congratulations were offered and there was much more kidding as 
they declared her the unofficial best fuck in camp.  Some asked her what 
it was like to screw a sleeping man, some commented - jokingly - that 
she must be a lousy lay to have me fall asleep while she was in the 
saddle.  It wasn’t until she had slipped off my member that they saw the 
blood.  At first they thought it was hers, and checked her out 
thoroughly.  But there was no injury they could see and were about ready 
to dismiss it when the staffer, Julie, I think, who was cleaning me up, 
started yelling.  A few of the exposed surface vessels had burst.  
Nothing serious, but you would have thought it was the end of the world.  

Some of the girls started crying, one started screaming hysterically.  
Only Julie and Janet kept their heads.  Julie kept cleaning me up and 
discovered the minor, but messy, nature of the injury and stopped the 
bleeding, while Janet cleared the room, swearing the weeping and wailing 
women to secrecy and silence.  

There was as much chance of that happening as having an annual snow 
sculpture contest in Malibu Beach, CA.  Within seconds it seemed the 
entire camp was gathered around the dispensary, holding vigil.  I heard 
later it was quite lovely.  Someone got the candles from the dining 
hall.  A guitar strummed softly.  A quiet All-American girl hoe down.  
Soft singing muffled the occasional sobs of the heart broken.  Very 

All sarcasm aside, I was deeply moved when I heard about it.  However, 
during the event the only thing I remember is having a dream about 
falling bombs, wild birds whooping and an incredible sucking vagina on 
my penis.  Pretty much my usual dream stuff.

Janet wrapped my stiff swollen cock in an oil-rich lotion to help 
replace the lipids leeched out by the extended marinating.  She and 
Julie, and eventually some of the rest of the staff, took turns swabbing 
and soaking my penis in the healing fluid.  In order to expose as much 
of the roughened skin to the balm as possible, they felt I needed to be 
fully erect.  So they gently stroked the shaft with their soft 
fingertips, gently luring it to its full swollen length.  What my 
amateur nurses didn’t, and couldn’t, know was that those were the very 
exact motions I used as an adolescent to train my cock to hold off for 
two hours before spewing my wad, and to come back to attention almost 
immediately.  And in my exhausted state, I must have reverted to that 
age, because every two hours I blasted off.  Like clockwork.  Like Old 
Faithful.  It got to be a contest to see which of the girls could catch 
my jism in her mouth.  I love a girl who really gets into her work.

And every six hours, Diane came in for her therapy.  The second time, at 
twelve hours, there was almost a mutiny.  But Janet sided with her and 
Diane agreed to hump me only until her nipples popped back out.  Which 
was, for her, too soon.  She didn’t get to get off, but then, neither 
did I.  After she had reluctantly un-impaled herself from my rampant 
member, several pairs of hands and eyes and at least one tongue 
scrutinized me with extreme care.  There was no visible set back to the 
healing process and peace was soon reestablished in the camp.

Later, when I heard that Janet had been willing to sacrifice the 
possible well-being of my precious penis for the benefit of a couple of 
inverted nipples, I nearly got angry.  But only nearly, because at the 
time she told me, she was performing an incredible sexual act on me, and 
anger would not have been appropriate or appreciated.  By the time I got 
back around to thinking of it again and bringing it up, she pulled that 
frustrating female thing of looking at me with that look that says, “We 
already discussed that.  Don’t drag up old issues.”  Some day I’m going 
to figure out how they do that.

Except for the visits by Diane and the constant stroking by the endless 
volunteers at my bedside, I was left in peace for the next 36 hours.  
Which left me fairly horny.  I mean, all that fore play and only one 
fuck every six hours.  I had been used to a lot more and was ready and 
raring to go.  The first ones to help me out of my pent up state were 
the two campers who just happened to be stroking my prick when I finally 
felt strong enough to fuck somebody.  Or some thing.  I really didn’t 
care in the state I was in.  

I leaned over to kiss one of them, pulling her on top of me.  She saw 
the gleam in my eye and squealed.  A recent alumnus of the speed 
stripping class, she was nude and settled on my prick before her partner 
knew what was going on.  The partner tried to push the first camper off 
her perch, kind of a Queen of the Mountain game, until I slipped a 
finger up inside her shorts.  She kind of froze in her tracks and got a 
glazed look in her eyes.  She was slower getting naked, being one of the 
younger campers, but soon her smooth naked pussy lips were being 
caressed by my lips, my tongue skewering her and giving her a song to 

The song was soon heard all over the camp and a cheer went up.  It was a 
cheerleader camp, after all.  That night and the two nights thereafter 
the visitors came in as before.  Although they did seem more eager, if 
that were possible.

But there was still the problem of Diane and her nipples.  No matter 
what they tried, they couldn’t get them to stay out.  I had had a lot of 
time to think about it and thought I had a solution.  I talked to the 
arts and crafts instructor, and described to her the design of what I 
had in mind.  She fired up her furnace and soon I had a pair of odd 
shaped pieces of jewelry.  Her workmanship had been outstanding and when 
I asked her how much it would cost, she said “Two hours,” with a wicked 
twinkle.  I gave a big tip on top of the payment.  She deserved it.

When Diane came in for her ‘therapy’, Janet was there, as always.  I 
think she was getting jealous of the regularity with which I was fucking 

“I think I have a way to keep your nipples out, Diane,” I said.  I 
showed her the jewelry.  They looked like two small wide funnels with no 
drain spouts.  Just a 3/8” hole in the center with two small notches 180 
degrees opposed to each other.  I fit them up to her tits, and they fit 
exactly over her areolas, leaving the tiny buds of her nipples exposed.  

She looked at me curiously.

“How’s that supposed to keep them up?”

With a wicked grin, I held up the second half of the puzzle.  Even Janet 
gasped as she saw what I had in my hand.  Two barbell piercing studs.  
But both of them agreed it would work.  And I could smell the scent of 
cunt juice filling the office.  Someone was excited about piercing 
Diane’s nipples and it wasn’t just me!

Of course, before we could pierce them, we had to capture them out in 
the open, so I gallantly volunteered to go in after them.  I took a 
circuitous route, probing with my prick as far up her cunt as I could 
shove it, trying to flush them out.  The attempt was laborious, 
requiring several advances and retreats, but it was not in vain.  The 
two future shish-kabobs poked up nicely and Janet was able to grab a 
hold of them and gently pull them out.  First she threaded the stiffened 
nipple through the center hole of the small funnel, and pressed it 
firmly, cupping the tip of Diane’s tit in the concave ring.  Then she 
deftly pierced each one and inserted the stud, sterilizing and cleaning 
thoroughly as she went along.  When she was finished, it looked as if 
Diane was wearing tiny metal pasties.  

We waited for an hour and the cure seemed to have worked.  The studs 
rested in the notches of the internal rim and held the nipples proudly 
out.  The only side effect we could determine was that Diane seemed 
hornier than normal.  She drooled from both mouths, upper and lower, had 
a glazed look in her eye, and had a mini-orgasm with every fourth or 
fifth step.  I silently took a bet with myself that Diane would soon 
take up jogging, which she did that next summer.  Became world class, 
too, but had a hell of a time getting through the metal detectors in the 
airports on the way to the international meets.

With the problem of Diane solved and camp routine back to normal, it was 
suddenly the last week of the training for the campers.  Sandi, the 
administrator’s assistant, came up to me after dinner on the first night 
of the last week.  A big grin split her face.  With the makeup and 
clothes she was now wearing, she was getting to be one of the hottest 
women in camp.  She had really come out of her shell.  The smile just 
added to her natural appeal.

“So.  Is the mighty Mr. Mattson ready for tonight?,” she asked 

The way she said it, I understood she was referring to my prick as the 
‘mighty Mr. Mattson’.  But I hadn’t heard a word about anything special 
going on.  I grinned back.  “I’m always ready, Sandi, especially for 

She blushed.  Bright red.  She still wasn’t used to her new erotic 
persona.  It made her even more appealing.  “N-N-No-o. N-N-Not me 
tonight,” she sighed, disappointedly.  “You haven’t heard?”

I shook my head in the negative.

“The next three nights are for the ‘new girls’.”

I furrowed my brow.  I had not heard the helicopter bringing in any new 
girls.  “New girls?” I asked.

Sandi blushed even deeper.  She reached up and pulled my head down so 
she could whisper in my ear.  I could also see right down her blouse at 
a set of cute firm mounds of flesh and was going to reach up and touch 
the erect nipple of one of them, but that thought actually left my head 
as she whispered, “Yeah, ‘new girls’.  Virgins.  Tonight the visitors 
will all be virgins.  New girls.”

I nearly came right then.  Three nights of virgin territory.  A 
pederast’s wet-dream come true.  I noticed Sandi looking at me with a 
funny look and this time it was my turn to blush.  I didn’t need to, but 
I followed her gaze down and I saw my cock, which had sprung up iron 
hard at the thought of all those cherries.  It had found its way out 
over the top of my shorts, and spurted a great big glob of sperm onto 
the bare flesh just above Sandi’s tits.

“Why, Thank you, Mr. Mattson!” she teased me, wiping the creamy white 
fluid off her chest with her fingers and then licking them clean.  “I’d 
say he was ready, wouldn’t you, Janet?”

I whirled around.  I had not heard Janet walk up behind me.  She looked 
down and saw my exposure and watched Sandi finish her special dessert.  
Gently, she took the exposed part of my cock in her hands and covered it 
up with them.  She had to move her hands up and down constantly to keep 
the whole thing covered completely and conscientiously did her best to 
protect the campers from seeing my exposure.  “I asked you to keep this 
under cover, Mr. Mattson,” she said sternly.  Her looks and touch belied 
the tone of her voice.  Her eyes were dancing in the evening light, 
laughing at my obvious excitement of the coming - or cumming - events of 
the next three evenings.  She was excited, too.

We separated when I could finally fit back into my shorts.  It took a 
while, because the fact that it was Janet who was holding my prick in 
her tiny soft hands was as arousing to me as the thought of all the 
cherry picking.  More, in fact.  She didn’t seem to be in any rush, 
either, and kept up a patter of small talk about this and that for quite 
a while.  To this day, the only things I can remember from that 
conversation are the feel of her hands and the clear blue color of her 
eyes as they gazed up into mine.  For me, right then, nothing else 
existed.  She still teases me about it.  But I still react the same way 
whenever she holds me like that gently stroking my cock with her two 
tiny soft hands.  It is absolutely Pavlovian.

Back in the dispensary that evening, time seemed to dragged by.  I did 
the inventory in the clinic, bandaged a few knees, wrapped a sprained 
ankle, and dried more than a few tears from the ‘regulars’.  A normal 
evening.  I tried to focus on each camper and task at hand, but my mind 
was elsewhere.  I was torn between the thoughts of virgin twat and those 
beautiful clear blue eyes.  Both of those thoughts kept my cock hard and 
stiff, and elicited more than a few knowing giggles from my dispensary 
patients.  Apparently, everyone in camp had known but me.  Figured.

The first timid knock came at the door after an eternity of waiting.  

“Come in,” I said softly.  I caught a brief silhouette against the hall 
light as a pair of figures slipped into my room.

“Hello, sailor,” came a familiar voice, a bit huskier than normal.  The 
Skipper sounded as if she was already excited about this.  Maybe I 
wasn’t the only one who liked young girls…

“Hello, Skipper.  You’re early tonight.”  The other figure giggled.

I felt her move close to my ear.  “I just figured you might like a 
witness that the girls were all here voluntarily, you know?.”

I grinned and whispered back, “Thanks.  And this just wouldn’t happen to 
excite you, too, no?”  A quick jab in my ribs confirmed my suspicions.  

She led the shy girl forward a little.  “This is Kim, Mr. Mattson.  This 
is her first time.”  With that she turned on a small light above my bed 
and melted into the deep shadows.  I tried, but I couldn’t see her face.  


Kim stood shyly by herself at the edge of the pool of light in a light 
blue baby-doll nightgown.  She was wearing the top only, no bottoms, I 
noticed right away.  She shifted uneasily from one foot to another, and 
there was a gleam in her eye.

“Hello, Kim.  Why don’t you come over here and sit down next to me.”  I 
held out my hand to her and she took it.  She followed my soft tugs and 
sat gingerly down next to me, her bare tush right on the edge of the 
mattress.  Kim was one of the older girls.  She must have been 16 or 17 
years old.  I moved my arm and put it around her back.  She was 
trembling.  I pulled her gently to my side, and buried my face in her 
soft hair.

“Kim, are you sure you want this?” I asked her.

“Uh-huh,” came the quiet reply.

“Well, if you want to stop at any time, all you have to do is say so, 

She nodded.  I grinned.

“And you need to tell me things out loud, how you’re feeling, if you 
like something or don’t like something, or if I’m too heavy, or if it 
hurts you, right?  Don’t worry about not using the right words.  Between 
the Skipper and I, we are pretty good at translating screams and grunts 
and moans.  Besides, it turns me on when I can hear my lover’s 
excitement.  If I can’t hear what you’re thinking or feeling, how will I 
know what you like?  So tell me, OK?  Now, do you under….”

My question was stopped as she launched herself into my arms, wrapping 
hers around my neck and shoving her untalented, but enthusiastic young 
tongue all the way down my throat.  I took that to mean she understood.

With Kim in my arms, I began to explore the quivering, eager young body 
plastered to my chest.  She had smooth skin, but then, they all had 
smooth skin.  Her medium-length hair that smelled so good was up off her 
neck in a braid.  I freed my mouth from hers and kissed the exposed 
areas of her neck.  I felt her shiver and her arms tightened around my 

As I ventured further, I encountered a shoulder strap with a bow on the 
top of each shoulder.  The satiny feel of her nightgown ended with a 
fancy ruffle just above her firm ass as my hands continued down her 
back.  I got her to relax her strangle hold on my neck and laid her 
softly back on the bed beside me.  This allowed me to explore her 
frontal areas.  She was a vision!  I took a moment to drink in her 
youthful beauty.

The nightgown was fastened by a single bow in front of her smallish 
tits.  Her dark pink nipples were clearly visible through the material, 
and it was obvious she was excited.  Or very cold in the middle of July.  

She caught at my hand as I tugged at the bow, indicating a slight 
hesitation on her part.

“Should I stop?” I asked softly.

“No.  Please don’t stop.  I, uh, I’m just a little scared.”

I held her hand to the tiny bow and she held it lightly between her 
fingers.  She looked at me with her big brown eyes.  I could see the 
indecision and the lust.  I blew gently across those turgid nipples 
poking though the thin fabric.  First one, then the other received my 
airy attentions.  That was all it took.  Together, we pulled the end of 
the bow, and she pushed up her swelling tits in invitation.

As I pulled the inadequate covering away from her chest with a firm tug, 
I leaned down and kissed her deeply.  I cupped and squeezed her firm 
rubbery tits until I felt her relax even more.  She began moaning into 
my mouth.  I rearranged myself along side of her on the bed.  She gave a 
small catch of her breath as she felt my heavy swollen cock flop down 
across her leg.

“I-Is that your thing?”

“My what?”

“Your thing.  You know, your penis?”

“Yes, and that’s my cock, my pecker, my prick, my John Henry, the Mighty 
Mr. Mattson, among other names.  No one calls it a penis but my doctor.”

“Oh.”  She giggled at the variety of names, especially the last one.

I held still.  Well, kind of.  I had her tit in my hand and I kept 
kneading it gently, but firmly.  Her little tits were firm and hard, and 
very sensitive, it seemed.  I felt it swelling up in my hand as her 
arousal grew.  I waited for her to make the next move.

It took a minute or three, but gradually the burning spot of contact on 
her thigh captured her curiosity and her hand slipped shyly down and 
touched my now hardened prick.  She had her eyes tightly closed as she 
gently explored it and, as she tried to reach her hand around it, I felt 
her catch her breath again.

“Does it really fit in me?”

“Perfectly, Kim.  It will fit perfectly.”

I lowered my lips to her chest and sucked in the lonesome nipple that 
was poking up at me, pleading for attention.  A long slow shudder passed 
through her body and she grasped me a bit tighter and began stroking up 
and down.  A natural rhythm.  I sucked and she stroked.  The excitement 
in her body grew.  I felt her nipples harden even more, one against my 
palm, the other in my mouth.

I switched teats.  This brought another groan, especially as the air 
chilled her moistened flesh.  My hand, now freed from its tit duty, 
ventured down her flat stomach.  I trailed my fingers across the smooth 
surface, tracing erotic patterns in the tiny hairs, dipping occasionally 
into the depression of her navel.  She was humming unconsciously, and it 
was a tune I loved to hear.

I followed my fingertips with my tongue and began to bathe her tummy 
with my saliva.  The cooling of the moisture brought goose bumps to her 
skin, roughening the texture.

My free hand again ventured lower, this time to her secret places.  Her 
humming went up a note or two in pitch and urgency and her breathing was 
a bit ragged now.  Her stoking hand became irregular in its up and down 
motion and finally she abandoned altogether her grip on my prick for one 
on the mattress as my fingertips brushed across her clit.  She stiffened 
and cried out as a small taste of the orgasmic events to come coursed 
through her slender frame.  

“Oh! Thank you, Mr. Mattson,” she sighed.

I looked up at her now open eyes, tiny tears leaking from the corners of 
them.  “Are you finished?  Should I stop?” I asked her.

“Huh?  You mean I can I have more than one?  Oh, I didn’t know.  It felt 
so good.  I don’t want you to stop.  Yes, please go….OH! OH! OH!”

My finger on her clit rudely interrupted her, this time with a bit more 
pressure.  I grinned to myself at her innocence.  And got back to work.  
I figured it would take about one more new experience for her innocent 
pussy, and she would not refuse me her virginity, no matter how big she 
thought my pecker was.  I knew just what that experience should be.  I 
lowered my face to her smooth hairless pussy lips and breathed deep.  
She smelled fresh and young, but with a distinctive fragrance of musk.  
I love that ‘ready to fuck’ scent a young girl gives off.

Her eyes were closed tight again after her last mini-climax, and she was 
not aware of my intentions until she felt my tongue begin to wiggle its 
way past her cunt lips and up into her pussy.  At first her hands 
flailed vainly as if to push my head away and she protested quietly, 
saying that she was dirty down there, etc.  Then the feelings from her 
awakening cunt shorted out all reason.  Her knees automatically snapped 
up to her tits, opening herself up to my tongue, my fingers and, 
eventually, my cock.

Her cunt was mine.

I built up her tension level by eating her delicious cunt for quite a 
while, never quite letting her go over that edge she teetered on.  By 
the time I was done with her pussy, she was delirious with passion, far 
past any point of return.  Her writhing young body was wound like a 
spring, waiting for that big event that it knew was coming, even if she 
didn’t.  Each near-climax pushed her a little higher and left her 
wanting, and taking, just a little more.  She was throwing her head back 
and forth on my pillow, gripping the sheets with her hands.  Her hair 
had become unbraided from her orgasmic thrashing and it fell softly 
around her shoulders.  She looked beautiful.  Delicious.  Fuckable.  I 
judged she was ready.

I knelt up between her legs.  She sensed my movement and opened her 
eyes.  She had a look of desperation in them.

“Please.  Please, do me.  Please.  Don’t tease me any more.  Do me.  
Now!  Please?  Fuck me, Mr. Mattson.”

What can I say?  When they ask me so nice, I can’t say ‘No”, can I?  

I did her.

The fat tip of my cock lodged up against her tight, wet pussy lips.  I 
let it rest there impatiently while the lubrication leaking from her 
pussy coated it.  A gentle nudge opened the sealed portal and the head 
of my cock forged into the tight canal.  Her eyes opened wide as she 
felt her vaginal tissues staining to adapt to the monster invading her 
pussy.  But she did not tell me to stop.  I honestly doubt if I could 
have at that point.

Another small nudge pushed me in far enough to allow the lips of her 
cunt to close around the rim of my cockhead.  Again I stopped for a 
moment to let her adjust.  It also allowed the barrier membrane a little 
further up her canal to begin to tear loose a bit because of the 
stretching.  Another gentle nudge forward, and the tip of my cock was 
resting against her now dangerously thin hymen.  I waited patiently for 
her to get comfortable, and as I waited I felt the membrane give way, 
not with a rip, but with a contented sigh.  She arched her back with a 
small gasp and then slowly but determinedly slid herself down on my 
cock, easily accepting about three-quarters of it inside her.  She had 
felt no pain.  She was now a woman.  And she wanted to fuck.

I placed my hand down between us and grabbed onto the base of my cock.  
I didn’t want to go too deep into her this first time.  I liked using my 
hand that way, especially with first-timers.  With my hand right there, 
I could also use my thumb to rub her clitoris, keeping her in a mindless 
fucking state for the duration of our coupling.

When she realized I was deep into her, she went wild.  I never moved 
from my knees, never had to jerk or thrust.  Some of her moves were a 
bit unexpected and unusual as this was her first experience, but it was 
my opinion that Kim was a natural born wild woman.  Most of the time, 
the only parts of her anatomy not in motion were her neck and shoulders 
and they were the only things touching the bed.  Everything else was a 
tornado of action, whipping her cunt up and down on my cock.  She 
started screaming as she hit the big one, but she didn’t stop moving.  
My thumb wouldn’t let her.  I kept up a constant circling motion right 
on her sensitive nubbin.  Her wild actions increased, if anything, and 
she went over the top again, this time fainting dead away with a sharp 
piercing scream.  Her body refused to obey her mind, however, and her 
cunt muscles kept a firm, almost painful grip on my cock.  

She slowly came back around and hugged me tight around my neck, her 
lithe body wracked with sobs.

“That was wonderful.  I didn’t think I could get it all in me,” she 
sobbed into my ear.  “I feel so good.  God, is my boyfriend going to be 
surprised when I get him into the back seat next Saturday night.”

I hated to tell her she hadn’t taken in the whole thing.  I had never 
met a girl or a woman who could on their first time.  I’m just too big.  
But when I told her I didn’t go all the way in, she didn’t seem to mind.  

In fact, she seemed more determined to take it all the next time.  
Whenever that would be.  

She left with a wet kiss and a sexy, “Thank you, Mr. Mattson.”  I was 
already looking forward to her next visit.  The last three inches always 
surprised them, and I loved the look on their faces as they stuffed 
themselves like gluttons at a buffet.  Pure ecstasy.

The light flicked out, and I was lost it the sudden darkness.

“God, sailor, I wish you had been my first.  I think you may have 
spoiled her for life.”  The Skipper slipped down onto the bed beside me, 
finding her way in the dark by soft gentle touches.

“Would you rather I didn’t do a good job?”

“Oh, no!  But she is going to compare the next couple of lovers she has 
to you, and, unless their name happens to be Clark Kent, they won’t be 
equipped like you.  I just hope her boyfriend doesn’t disappoint her too 
much.  You’re almost too good, sailor.”

“Hey, I’m just an average guy doing the best I can.”

A tinkling laugh and sharp jab in the stomach registered her disbelief 
of that statement.  “You’re far from average, sailor,” she said softly, 
almost to herself.  Then, with a short shake of her head, as if dragging 
herself back to reality from a very pleasant place, she got up off the 
bed and headed for the bathroom.  She brought back a wet rag and a towel 
to dry with.

“Here.  Clean up.  It’s nicer for the new girls if you’re clean for 
them.  They’re nervous enough without having you smell like the previous 

I grinned.  “Yeah.  We’ll just have till next time to really pervert 
them, huh?”  Her soft laughter filled my heart again, and a silent bond 
built between us.  We would always share a passion for the young ones.  

I began to clean up, getting ready for the next one.  I sensed her 
waiting, tapping her foot unconsciously as she stood there in the dark.  
“What’s the hurry, Skipper?  Is there a rush?  Just how many new girls 
are there?”

“If you do them all like Kim, you’ll almost make it.  There are six new 

“Oh, OK.  That should be easy.  Two tonight, two tomorrow and two the 
next night, right?  We should be able to make them all enjoy the 
experience and have time to spare!”

“Wrong, sailor.  That’s six tonight, six tomorrow night and six the next 
night.  And I’m going to get mine each night, too, you little girl 
fucker, you.  I’m so horny right now I can hardly keep from jumping on 
your fat cock.”

I shook my head in disbelief.  Eighteen.  Eighteen virgins.  I didn’t 
think there were that many cherries over the age of 12 years old in the 
whole of California, much less just the LA area.  It was even more mind 
boggling that they were all good looking ones, too.  Well, there would 
be 18 fewer intact hymens by the time camp was over.  

Grinning, I reached out and found the Skipper.  Her tense body was 
covered in a light shirt.  I ripped it off her smooth shoulder in a 
single jerk, tearing it right down the back.  I proceeded to take just 
about every obscene liberty with her I could think of without 
penetration.  Skipper just stood there and let me, teasingly helping me, 
taunting, encouraging me, urging me to violate her any way I wanted to.  
So I did.  By the time I was done, we were both gasping for breath.  
Finally, I pulled her to me and I kissed her hard and viciously.  I was 
getting sick and tired of this fucking cat and mouse game.

She melted into my arms, her resistance gone.  I felt tears running down 
between us as she gave herself totally to me.  She had always kept 
something back before.  But now, she was all mine.  I could have done 
anything to her at that moment, including turning on the light above my 
bed and establishing her identity.  I knew it.  She knew it.  She knew I 
knew it.

But I didn’t do it.  To this day I don’t know why.  I gently sat her 
tight naked butt on my knee, pulled my fingers out of her cunt and 
asshole, brushed the hair away from her sweaty face with my lips and 
tenderly licked the tears trickling from her eyes.  

“You better see who’s next, Skipper,” I told her.  “You know I can’t 
fuck you if it gets too light in here.”  She gave a small sob.  “And 
Skipper, I need to fuck you.  Bad!”


End of chapter

I hope you enjoyed it.    :)

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