("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
`6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`)
(_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-'
_..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
(((' (((-((('' ((((
K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
_________________________________________
WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
_________________________________________
Scroll down to view text
Archive name: change.txt (M+/F+, bi, college-highjinks)
Authors name: Rojah Dodger (rdodger@hotmail.com)
Story title : Change of Focus
--------------------------------------------------------
Copyright (c) 2001. All rights reserved, except that
electronic not-for-profit reproduction rights only are
explicitly granted with the stipulation that this
authorship and permission note must remain attached.
--------------------------------------------------------
Change of Focus (M+/F+, bi, college-highjinks)
By Rojah Dodger (rdodger@hotmail.com)
***
"There once was a girl from Nantucket, whose clit was
so big she could..."
"Nawww..." Jack said, and viciously crumpled the piece
of notepaper before flinging it across his dorm room.
"I'm never going to pass this flippin' writing course!"
His roommate, a one-time scholarship student now in his
sixth year and third major, intercepted the paper
missile and unfolded it. He shook his head sadly.
"That's pretty weak, even for you."
"Tell me something I don't know, Einstein. How did you
manage to get through this course anyway, Ken? I thought
you hated writing."
"I do, man. Can't stand it." A light gleamed hidden in
the other man's eye. "Maybe that's your problem --
you're too focused on the task and the mechanics. You
know the story of the Foo bird?"
Jack winced and rolled his eyes. "I don't want to hear
this..." he warned, but to no avail as his roommate
began. "The Foo bird lives in the far reaches of the
island of Madagascar, and is the only known example of a
species intent on its own extinction. This happens
because the Foo bird believes that something is trying
to climb into its bottom, and in a single-minded attempt
to find the intruder the Foo bird flies faster and
faster in ever-diminishing concentric circles until it
vanishes into its own anus."
At this point Jack attempted to smother his roommate
with a pillow.
Some minutes later, when tempers had cooled, Ken picked
up the conversation as if nothing untoward had happened.
"Your main problem is that you're too focused. When
you're looking at the crankshaft, you can't get the feel
of driving the car. You need to relax your brain and
come around the backside of the idea in creative
writing. Think like an artist, not like the next partner
at Dewey, Cheatem and Howe."
Jack shook his head and flopped back onto his bunk.
"You're going from making no sense to nonsense. What do
you mean, come around the backside of the idea? And
anyway, I'm nothing if not relaxed after spending the
weekend with Sherry -- I don't think I have a stiff bone
in my entire body." Sherry was Jack's girlfriend, a fox
from one of the better sororities who had taken a liking
to Jack and seemed intent on working her way through the
entire Kama Sutra with him.
Ken nodded sagely. "Exactly my point. You're using up
all your 'chi' on that girl." He leered, "Not that I'd
turn her down for a minute, my friend. You've got good
taste there. But you need creative energy for creative
writing, and she's leaving you drained not only
physically but psychically. It's no wonder you can't get
anything down on paper." He belched, which undercut his
effort to sound professorial.
Jack shook his head in bewildered disagreement. "You're
saying I have to give up my sex life just to pass a
stupid class? Man, with advice like that it's no wonder
I'm your eighth roommate in less than six years."
Ken sighed, "Oh, you youngsters... I never said you had
to give up Sherry. You just have to find a way to
recharge your batteries, and keep your brain from
focusing so much on the ugly mechanics of writing. Now I
happen to know of an approach that might work, if you're
really interested. But it would require you giving up
one of your precious weekends with that lithe sex
goddess."
"Hell," Jack responded, "if you can guarantee me getting
through this class I'd even set you up with Sherry for
the weekend."
Ken chuckled. "Don't go writing any checks you don't
want to cash..."
*
A couple of days later, Jack was kicking back in the
student commons, sipping at his beer and watching the
Cubs, when a woman came up to him. "Hi," she said
breathlessly, "You're Jack Falken, aren't you? I'm your
new tutor, Christine, Christine Keeler, but everyone
just calls me Chris."
Jack looked up without anything clicking other than his
hormones. She was tall, brunette, with a nicely-filled
midriff-baring blouse over low-slung denim jeans.
Intelligent, too, as she apparently recognized the blank
look in his eyes and continued without waiting for him
to respond. "Your application to the creative energy
weekend seminar was conditionally accepted, and I'm to
be your initial tutor, at least until you've gotten
through the orientation and have your feet firmly on the
ground."
"Conditional?" Jack didn't remember anything about a
seminar, unless this was the thing Ken had been talking
about. And he wasn't sure about that word "conditional".
Meanwhile, Chris was bubbling along at full speed.
"Anyway, I need to do an in-person assessment of your
suitability to our program and your willingness to work.
Can you arrange to meet me for dinner tonight or
tomorrow night?"
She paused, which gave Jack a chance to try and catch
his breath. All this was going too fast, but after all,
he did have to pass that class, and for a tutor she was
certainly easy on the eyes. He was supposed to go out to
the movies with Sherry this coming weekend, but she
probably wouldn't be upset over one cancellation.
*
They met the next evening at a dark little Italian
restaurant not far from the campus. Jack put more effort
than usual into his appearance, which made him slightly
late getting to dinner. Chris was already seated, and he
hid his disappointment at finding her in a simple and
demure blue dress. Their dinner conversation touched on
his career goals, classes, extracurricular interests,
and why he thought he had difficulty writing.
Several times during dinner Jack tried to find out more
about Chris, but each time she deftly turned the inquiry
back to him. As Jack was finishing the last of his veal,
he commented that he didn't seem to have problems in his
other classes, subjects like accounting, history and
pre-law.
It was only in the "creative" writing tasks that he ran
into a blank wall. That brought a smile to Chris's face.
"That's quite good," she said encouragingly, "when you
recognize that yourself it usually means we can unlock
your creative juices - with some hard work and a bit of
a mental realignment."
Chris put her napkin down and rose gracefully from her
chair. "Let's skip dessert, shall we? I think you're
going to be a good candidate for the seminar, and I've
got all the paperwork back at my place. I've got to run
to the little girl's room - when I get back, why don't
you just follow me and we'll get you all set for the
weekend."
She brushed his arm as she rose; her fingers felt cool
against his wrist, and he felt an odd thrill run up his
arm. Jack flagged the waiter for the check, and by the
time Chris came back to the table he was ready to leave.
Outside in the parking lot, Jack discovered that her
dress was by no means as demure as it had appeared with
her seated. The skirt hung teasingly well above the
knee, and he almost tripped over the curb for not
watching his own step. She drove a sleek-looking Lexus,
and he followed her into an unfamiliar and disreputable
part of town.
The neighborhood gave Jack had some concerns about
safety, as well as being able to find his way back. But
when he locked his car and followed her into her
apartment his concerns vanished. The apartment was
upscale and classy, and Chris pointed him to the couch
and coffee table while she went to get something for
them to drink.
Jack sat down and started to look at the densely filled
papers, distracted momentarily by the sight of Chris's
long legs as she headed for the kitchen. She returned
with two glasses, and they toasted to education, then to
writing, then to creative energy. Chris sat next to him
on the couch, her leg pressed against his, and helped
him wade through the legalese in the first stack of
papers.
Another round of drinks, and this time when she sat down
her skirt rode up to show a tantalizing glimpse of
thighs and shadows. Another round of papers, an another
round of drinks later, Jack was congratulating himself
on determining that his tutor wasn't wearing a bra, and
he was more focused on trying to figure out whether she
was wearing panties than on reading the papers she
handed him.
Finally the last of the papers was signed and
countersigned. "Good boy!" she purred, and hugged Jack
tightly. A flush of warmth suffused his body, and he
missed what she said as she stood up. Her finger caught
him under the chin. "Woolgathering, were we? I thought
we might celebrate our new relationship properly!" Jack
wobbled to his feet, suppressing a yawn, and followed
her toward the back reaches of the apartment.
*
"Well, well, well... the sleeper awakes!" That was Ken's
voice.
Why was he hearing Ken's voice?
Jack opened his eyes. He was in his own bed. He shook
his head experimentally; nothing fell out and he didn't
have a headache. Last night's events were just too fuzzy
to recall in any detail. "What time did I get in,
anyway," he asked his roommate.
Ken laughed. "Four in the morning, my friend, and I had
to threaten you with violence to keep you from singing
Barry Manilow songs for more than thirty seconds."
Ken directed Jack's attention to a large manila envelope
on the breakfast table, which turned out to hold Jack's
instructions for the weekend. The list was short: meet
the group Friday at 4pm by the campus store, bring
toiletries, necessary medications, comfortable footwear,
loose fitting sweatpants, necessary underwear and three
shirts.
He looked a second time, then checked in the envelope as
a thought occurred to him. No, there wasn't anything
mentioned about money. Come to think of it, from what
little Jack could recall of the previous evening the
topic of payment had never come up. He asked Ken, who
mumbled something about arts groups and literacy grants.
There was one strange item in the instructions.
Participants were directed to wear clothing designed for
comfort, and they specifically barred briefs for men and
athletic bras or pantyhose for women. Jack bristled at
the restriction; he liked the way briefs showed off his
assets. Oh well, a little shopping trip wouldn't hurt
him.
Thinking about briefs brought the previous night back to
Jack's mind. His tutor had not, as it turned out, been
wearing panties. A sudden rush of blood into his groin
reminded him he needed to call Sherry. He rearranged his
shorts and reached for the phone. She wasn't terribly
put out about his canceling their weekend movie,
although she expressed some surprise at his reason.
"A writing seminar? Jack, it's unlike you to be so...
studious." She emphasized the "oo" sound in "studious",
holding it long enough for Jack to picture the way her
lips were pursed as she giggled and hung up.
Was Ken staring at him? He turned around suspiciously,
but his roommate was merely sitting in his chair,
smiling faintly, headphones over his ears and a thick
book opened in his lap. The lack of sleep, Jack thought,
must be playing tricks on him. Anyway, between the
confused images of last night and his conversation with
Sherry, he needed a cold shower.
*
Friday afternoon found Jack standing nervously by the
bookstore, his gear in a backpack (including the newly
purchased boxer shorts). By the time 4pm rolled around,
there were a half dozen students gathered, two other men
and three women, none of them anxious to break the
common silence. At the stroke of four an SUV arrived
with Chris driving and an athletic-looking man in the
front passenger seat.
She introduced him as Greg, another tutor, and they
quickly got everyone into the vehicle with the guys in
the back seat and the girls in the middle. They started
off, the radio playing some foreign sounding music mixed
with white noise and fading oddly in and out.
Jack dozed for a good deal of the drive, as did his
fellow passengers. They left the city behind and entered
an area with tall trees as the afternoon gave way to
dusk. When the van finally came to a halt, everyone
piled out to stretch their legs, and Jack realized he
had no idea where they were. Trees, bushes, an open area
with a large grill and several long tables were visible
nearby.
At one side was a wooden cabin of recent construction,
and the sound of a river echoed in the air. "Pretty,"
said one of the girls. "Pretty bleak," grumbled one of
the guys. Chris and Greg wasted no time in chivvying
them into a line outside the wooden cabin for "check-in
and team assignment". There were already a number of
people in the line, evidently from the three other vans
parked nearby.
Inside the cabin, when it was Jack's turn, he was
greeted by an older couple who introduced themselves as
Carl and Maria Weber, "sort of den parents at Camp Get-
in-Touch". They went through his bag, checked his newly-
bought boxer shorts, and confiscated his CD player and
dress belt, telling him he would get those back at the
end of the session. They also asked him a few questions
to corroborate a medical form that he didn't remember
filling out.
Finally, both welcomed Jack to the seminar and expressed
their hope that he would find the experience insightful
and mind-opening. Carl shook his hand, and Maria gave
him a very thorough welcoming hug before they sent him
out of the cabin.
Conversation was scant among the group as they waited
for everyone to get through check-in. What little talk
there was revealed that they spanned the range from
freshman to senior, and all had coursework problems of
one sort or another. Eventually the last of their group
came through the cabin, and Chris and Greg joined them
holding clipboards.
Chris spoke up, "Okay gang, I've got Jack, Martha and
Tom, and Greg will have Sally, Nate and Shavonne. My
group follow me and we'll get you set up in our cabin."
The brunette set out into the woods, and Jack and his
new cabinmates followed uncertainly while eying each
other speculatively. Martha was a statuesque redhead who
radiated confidence and took the walk with long hip-
rolling strides. Jack found himself wondering what she
could possibly need from the seminar.
Tom, on the other hand, was a thin bookish type with
glasses and looked the type to need help at most
everything. Their cabin, when they arrived, was a low-
slung affair with an undecorated wood floor and spare
furniture, the only note of comfort being the four large
beds, two against opposite walls.
"Where's the bathroom," whined Tom. Chris waved a hand
toward the cabin door. "Those are outside; you'll get
that in the main camp tour and orientation. We'll go
there in a few minutes, but right now just grab a bed
and put your things on it."
Tom slunk across to the farthest bed on the right,
muttering under his breath about privacy. Jack took a
bed on the left wall to avoid Tom, and Martha took the
bed nearest the door, sitting down and bouncing
experimentally. "Nice mattress," was her only comment.
Chris seemed to find the appraisal humorous. "By the
time you get to bed, you'll appreciate it. Okay, folks,
it's a short weekend and you've all got a lot to do.
Let's go!"
The camp extended much farther than the greeting area
promised. The grounds included a swimming pool, frontage
on the river, a well-groomed soccer field, several camp-
simple restrooms (which Tom gratefully availed himself
of), and a roomy combination meeting hall and covered
dining area. There they found some thirty other students
gathered, and everyone found seats while the Webers and
the counselors took the front table.
Carl Weber came to the podium. "Welcome, folks. We're
glad you could join us for this weekend retreat. All of
you are having problems in focus, one way or another,
and we're going to give you some tools to help you
accomplish what you want in life. Or at least in
school." He chuckled at that, and his audience did
likewise.
"You've all had the camp tour and gotten your cabin
assignments, so we'll have a hike and some warm-up
exercises before dinner. The Romans had a saying, "mens
sana in corpore sano", a sound mind in a sound body, and
we adhere to that philosophy here. During the weekend
you'll probably experience a number of activities that
are new to you, from breathing exercises to different
ways to experience your surroundings. Pay attention to
your counselors, and feel free to ask questions, but
remember that this can only work for you if you're
prepared to have an open mind and work hard. Remember,
we're all here for the same thing - to help you be all
you can!"
And with that the meeting was dismissed. The groups
separated in various directions through the woods to the
various clearings scattered around the grounds. Chris
quickly rounded up her group, and Greg's group joined
them for what turned into a strenuous five-mile hike
through the woods. Even Martha looked winded by the time
they returned to the camp. They followed their leaders
to the meeting hall, where dinner was already waiting.
The food was spare but tasty, heavy on the vegetables
and fiber, surprisingly filling, and apparently the
seminar was to be meat-free.
After dinner the groups retired to their various cabins.
Chris gave them all ten minutes to bask in the after-
effects of their meal, and then had the three cabinmates
sit on the floor in the middle of the cabin. "This is an
introduction to meditation," she told them as she slid a
CD into a small stereo. Muted sounds of sitar and tabla
echoed in the room. Chris circled around and between
them, slipping a soft blindfold around each student's
head. Jack smiled as she put his on; he could tell she
was wearing that same perfume from when he had met her
over dinner.
The next half hour was a somewhat fuzzy lesson in
floating, focusing, hearing the music and not hearing
the music. "Meditation," Chris said at one point, "is
about focusing and losing focus simultaneously. It's
like the old joke about being told not to think about an
elephant. The only way to succeed is to allow the
elephant into you so that you can get past it." At least
half of this was gobbledygook to Jack, but he was trying
to keep an open mind.
"I'm going to give each of you a focus phrase now. The
next time you do meditation practice, I want you to
repeat your phrase until the words lose their meaning
and just surround you with sound. Tom, you're 'Scent of
Green Papaya'. Martha, you're 'Sliding on Silk'. Jack,
you're 'Hot Apple Pie'. Now I want each of you to repeat
your phrase, and keep on until you forget I'm here."
This, thought Jack, is just plain silly. Still and all,
he went along with the gag, and a strange thing
happened. First, he did forget about Chris and the other
students; it began to seem as if he were alone, floating
in the universe, a babble of meaningless syllables
echoing in his head. Then, as sudden and sharp as a
flashbulb, he saw meaning everywhere.
He could picture the Earth and planets orbiting the Sun.
He saw the beauty in the whorls of his fingerprints. He
understood women. The tax code made sense... well,
almost. He felt a touch on the back of his neck, and
sensed a familiar perfume. Somehow, he realized, Chris
knew that he'd gotten it. He felt oddly proud at the
accomplishment, as a student praised by his teacher.
After a time, Chris went around the room removing the
blindfolds. Jack and the other two each stood up and
shook their heads to regain their bearings. A low gong
sounded in the camp, and Chris nodded her head. "Time to
get ready for bed; we've got lights-out and one last
exercise, then you'll be up early in the morning!"
Somewhat subdued by their own individual experiences,
the three roommates quietly went through their things,
hiked to the restroom facility for tooth brushing and
other needs, and returned to the cabin. Tom had taken
his pajamas and changed in the restroom since there
wasn't any private area in the cabin. Jack, on the other
hand, planned to sleep in his sweatpants and shower in
the morning.
And then there was Martha. She stood up by her bed and
turned her back to the others, then smoothly pulled off
her t-shirt showing a broad expanse of evenly tanned
bra-less backside. Bending over the bed, she slid her
panties down her long legs and waited just long enough
to make it obvious that she knew everyone was looking at
her before pulling a thin nightgown over her head. Jack
clucked his tongue admiringly then rolled over and was
asleep by the time his head hit the pillow.
Somewhere in the middle of the night, or at least so it
seemed, something cold and wet woke Jack by running
along his spine. "Ice cube?" he grumbled in the dark.
"Good boy," came the melodic sound of Chris's voice,
"let's see how we're all doing!" A moment later, Jack
heard Tom whine "Ow... emery board? And why on my ear?"
There was silence for a long while. Suddenly a piercing
shriek tore through the cabin from the direction of
Martha's bed. Chris could be heard in the echoes,
quietly commenting "Yes, but what did it *feel* like?"
Martha's response was low, intense, and unintelligible
to the two men.
Chris continued to make the rounds of the room with odd
items pressed to unexpected places, occasioning
puzzlement from Jack and at least one embarrassed squeal
from Tom. Finally, she pronounced herself satisfied with
the results and told them to go back to sleep.
Jack slept, but not well. His dreams were mostly
unformed and unsettling. The cabin seemed too warm, even
after he finally gave in to necessity and stripped down
to bare skin on the sheets. Images of apple pies floated
in his head, and the sensation of riding a horse.
Toward morning, though, things took a turn for the
better. He found himself in a glade near the camp, and
Chris was sitting next to him. She moved into his arms,
his head spinning with her perfume. Holding his head
with both hands, she kissed him deeply; her tongue
seemed impossibly long, teasing along the roof of his
mouth and pressing against the back of his throat.
Meanwhile her fingers were dancing along the back of his
neck, little pleasurable jolts of electricity hopping
down his spine and centering in his groin. Then suddenly
she was no longer in his lap, but sitting behind him
with her legs wrapped around his and her nipples hard
little points in his back. Her fingernails were teasing
his own rudimentary nipples; he wanted to move but her
legs held his down. Someone gave him a glass of milk,
and he drank as fast as he could but it still spilled,
running down his chest...
*
Morning came far too soon. Jack's nose was stuffy, and
he had a horrid case of morning mouth, complete with
thick tongue. The outdoor air didn't seem to be agreeing
with him. Worse, when he got out of bed his gut gave one
premonitory twinge and he realized he desperately needed
to get to the bathroom.
He streaked for the cabin door, forgetting his lack of
clothes, and made barefoot tracks through the dew-
covered grass until he got to the facility. He said a
silent prayer of thanks at finding it vacant, and took
only enough time to lock the door behind him before
leaping the last few feet to the toilet.
About ten minutes later, he pressed the flush lever one
last time and staggered to the sink to wash his haggard
face. Something at dinner must have violently disagreed
with him. Worse, his bottom was throbbing; the attack
must have triggered a case of hemorrhoids. Just what he
needed to start the day.
After he cleaned up the bathroom, he walked, bowlegged
and suddenly aware of his nudity, back to the cabin. The
other students were gone to breakfast, but Chris was
still there. She took a look at his face and asked with
concern, "Jack, what happened?" Despite his
embarrassment he gave her the whole story. With a no-
nonsense tone in her voice, she gave him directions to
see the nurse. "And don't worry, I'll let your morning
session instructor know you'll be a bit late."
Jack put on a clean pair of boxers and sweat pants, and
headed across the campsite.
The nurse turned out to be Maria, the woman who ran the
campsite with her husband. She listened to Jack with a
soothing and sympathetic manner, and then asked him
politely to bend over the exam table and drop his pants.
He did so, with the usual unsettled feeling a man has
when hearing the snap of latex gloves behind him. Her
touch was surprisingly delicate as she applied a cream
to the irritated area. Next she put a cool hand in the
middle of his back, murmured "please stay as still as
possible," and slid a finger fully inside him. Jack
quickly developed an erection.
Every time Maria moved her finger, Jack felt another
pulse of blood run through his swollen cock. The
examination continued until he finally had to close his
eyes and surrender to the inevitable; his ass bit down
tightly on Maria's finger as his balls spasmed and
squirted their sticky load between his belly and the
table. He could feel his face flush hot with
embarrassment, but Maria merely waited for his bottom to
unclench before continuing.
Finally, she withdrew her finger and Jack heard the
telltale 'snick' of the latex glove popping off her
hand. "That must have been a bad one this morning," she
said with some empathy, "You need to put this ointment
on three times a day for a couple of days and you'll be
fine. I'll get you started." Jack felt her slide the
glob of cream between his cheeks and work it inside the
tight ring of his sphincter. It burned a little, but
that passed quickly and turned into a more general
warmth, hard to ignore but not unpleasant.
He stood there, getting used to the sensation, as Maria
went to the washbasin to clean herself up, then returned
and handed Jack a damp washcloth and the tube of
ointment. "I'm sure you'd like a little privacy to clean
up," she said, smiling. Jack nodded thankfully, waiting
until the door was closed to stand up and clean the
drying semen off his stomach and cock. He got dressed,
took the ointment, and went quickly out of the exam room
and back to camp.
*
His morning class was yoga and aerobics, and he found
the group stretching in a dell near the river. In the
absence of formal exercise clothes, everyone had
stripped down to either underwear or nothing at all.
Jack joined them in a series of deep knee bends; he was
distracted by the effect those had on his medicated
bottom until he got into the spirit of the workout.
After a while he had worked up a sweat to match his
fellow students, and the instructor led them to the
river for floating exercises. This consisted of floating
on your back and trying to stay in one place relative to
the riverbank using the least amount of energy. Jack
found it surprisingly easy. In fact, he almost fell
asleep twice during the practice.
Next on the schedule was lunch. Jack would have liked a
shower first, but the instructor had thoughtfully
brought towels so nobody had to get their clothes wet.
In the dining area, Jack decided to take the prudent
course and restrict himself to soup. Conversation today
was much quieter than it had been the previous evening.
Everyone seemed to be only halfway attentive to the
meal, as if their attention was distracted by something
inside that only they could see.
The afternoon class was creative imagery in another
meadow. The students were mixed from different cabins,
and his partners in this exercise were a thin blonde
named Becky, an athletic-looking Hispanic who answered
to Orlando, and a well-padded redhead who called herself
"Jade, as in Jewelry". Carl, the camp's den father, was
their instructor and he quickly got the session under
way.
"I want you all to sit or lie down comfortably, and
cover your eyes with these handkerchiefs," he explained,
"then we'll do some free association." Jack folded his
legs Indian-fashion while the others found their own
preferred position. When all of them were ready, Carl
called out "Fruit!" Becky came up with "Pineapple", Jack
said "Banana" for no particular reason, and Orlando
added "Melons".
Jack looked from Orlando to Jade, and decided the other
guy's mind wasn't completely on the task at hand. Jade's
response was "Mango", and next Carl prompted with
"Vegetable" which drew suggestions of Broccoli,
Cucumber, Carrot and Squash. Several more exchanges in
this mode followed, leaving Jack completely bemused as
to what they could be accomplishing.
After what seemed like a short time, but turned out to
be nearly an hour, Carl pronounced himself satisfied and
sent the students off for a quick break. Jack took the
opportunity to apply the second dose of the ointment
that Maria had given him. He shifted his feet restlessly
as the cream sent the same burst of heat through his
insides, then went off to continue his day.
The last afternoon session was led by Chris, who led
Jack and a dozen others hiking through the camp and into
the woods, finally arriving in a softly grass-cushioned
bower. "Sensory awareness," she said as everyone got
comfortable, "is about feeling, not about intellect.
Everyone please remove your clothes and find a place to
lie down. Don't worry," she chuckled seeing some anxious
looks, "we run a bug-free campsite here."
There was a rush of bustling activity, collisions and
apologies until everybody got settled. "Feel the grass
beneath you, not just as a carpet, but as individual
blades, each with its own edge against your skin. Find
the places where the ground still has the damp coolness
of dew. Let your arms and hands float by your side; let
your mind relax while the sensations come in."
Jack was having a hard time following the instructions.
For one thing, his head was on a hard spot in the
ground. For another, despite what Chris had said he was
sure he felt something crawling up his balls. He
wriggled to try and dislodge whatever it was, but
succeeded only in moving himself so that his asscheeks
were snuggled up against a tree root. He didn't want to
be the only one complaining, though, so he did his best
to relax.
The afternoon sun and breeze were certainly comforting,
and after a bit he found that he could indeed pick out
individual blades of grass against his back and legs. He
could even tell which of his chest hairs was being
stirred by the wind. His eyes lidded over, and he let
the warmth of the sun cover him like a blanket. Stray
puffs of air played tag from his head to his toes, and
back up between his legs. The grass beneath him shifted
and twitched like a living rug.
The next thing he knew, Chris was chucking him under the
chin. "Hey there," she said smiling, "I don't think
sleeping qualifies as awareness!" Jack looked around and
saw the other students already up, around and mostly
dressed. He blushed and pulled himself quickly to his
feet as the group got ready to head back to main camp
for the evening. Chris explained that they'd have a bit
of time to clean up before dinner, and that after dinner
there would be a full camp meeting for demonstrations
and awards.
As the group hiked back, Jack wondered what kind of
awards could be given out. He hadn't seen anything in
his classes that resembled a test. He eventually gave it
up as a waste of energy, and joined in the lines for the
cleanup facilities.
Dinner was - no surprise - pasta and vegetables. Jack
wondered if there was supposed to be a connection
between avoiding meat and being creative. After the
meal, Carl and Maria gave a brief speech about the
weekend being successful and reminded the cabin leaders
that the recognition ceremony would start promptly in an
hour. When they got back to the cabin, Jack was tired
and took a quick nap. His other cabin companions
likewise seemed to want to reserve their energy. Only
Chris seemed excited, watching them with an "I know a
secret" look on her face.
*
The haunting, bone-chilling sound of an oboe playing an
Eastern melody floats through the air. Chris gathered up
her charges and accompanied them through the dusky
twilight across the campgrounds to an open-air
amphitheatre. Jack and the others took up places on the
hillside and waited to see what the big build-up was
about, while Chris headed elsewhere. Down at the base of
the hill was a small table with two chairs, some papers
and trophies, a pitcher of water, a basket of fruit, a
boom box, a standing microphone, a video camera, and an
upright wooden frame resembling a reinforced doorframe.
There wasn't much time to wonder about that, however, as
Carl and Maria entered the field of view, followed by
Chris, Greg and the other cabin leaders. They were all
wearing something like academic gowns, and would have
fit in well at a college ceremony. Carl stepped to the
microphone and began the proceedings, thanking everyone
for their hard work and participation. After that, Maria
took the stage and flipped a switch on the boom box.
As the odd melodies echoed off the surrounding trees,
she announced recognition of seminar participants for
such obviously gag prizes as most return visits to the
salad bar, fastest 100-meter sprint to the restroom
(Jack was very glad not to find himself the winner
there), and longest time balancing on one foot.
After the "winners" had come down, claimed their
certificates, and headed back up the hill, Carl once
again took over the mike. "Every time we run this
seminar, some of our attendees surprise both us and
themselves by demonstrating great talents in a few
specialized areas. You were all accepted here with two
things in mind; what we could do for you, and what you
could do for others. We're all very proud that three of
you have earned the unanimous recognition of our
teaching staff for outstanding achievement in both areas
of focus. Would someone escort Orlando out here?"
At this point the Hispanic from Jack's free association
exercise came out, accompanied by a petite counselor
from one of the other cabins, both of them in the
academic gowns. As the music played, the counselor
unzipped the front of her gown showing that she was nude
beneath. She turned to Orlando and stood between him and
the audience to remove his gown, then stepped aside. A
soft gasp came from the gathered crowd. Orlando's body
had been oiled until it gleamed in the soft lights, and
he sported a massive cock in full rampant erection. A
few of the observers whistled in appreciation. The
counselor ran her hand under his balls and up the shaft;
her hand could barely wrap around the head.
Maria pulled a chair up, and she and the counselor
guided Orlando into the chair with his legs spread on
either side. With barely a trace of hesitance, the
counselor climbed up into his lap. Orlando held his cock
in place while the other girl positioned herself, and
finally, she began inching downward. The music faded,
and for moments the only sounds were the chirping of
crickets and the audible panting of the counselor.
Finally, and not without murmurs of disbelief from the
audience, the small woman was fully impaled, her bottom
resting between the bigger man's legs. With unexpected
grace, Orlando now stood up, his passenger wrapping her
legs around his back as she held onto him. Standing in
front of the audience, he sank quickly to his knees,
drawing a muffled squeak from his passenger, then rose
back up. He repeated the calisthenics, each time with
more alacrity, as his passenger writhed against him and
bucked up and down.
Finally she shrieked out in erotic ecstasy and dug her
nails across his back leaving long red trails. As she
did so, Orlando stood up straight and tall, and the
muscles of his legs went taut and starkly outlined. His
ass clenched visibly, and the girl atop him gave out one
last choked gasp before collapsing limply in his arms.
Maria and the other counselor came out again, and each
held the still-shaking girl by shoulder and hip, sliding
her off the big man as his cock popped free, shining
with their mingled juices and only half-soft. There was
some soft applause and a few whistles from the audience.
As the first group left the center area, Greg from the
other cabin led a nude and blindfolded Martha into view.
Jack blinked twice; the change in Martha from the woman
who had blithely shown off her nude body in his cabin
was striking. This Martha's body had been oiled in the
same way that Orlando's had, and showed in its entire
ripe splendor from the strong calf muscles to the
proudly erect nipples. Greg fastened her wrists to cuffs
at the upper corners of the doorframe, and her ankles to
matching ones at the base.
As Greg left, another counselor came out from the
shadows. This woman was dressed in the academic gown,
and carried a small bag with her. She reached out to
pinch one brown-tipped nipple, drawing a long sigh from
Martha. Smiling, the woman began pinching Martha's
nipples and rolling the ball of her thumb against them.
Martha responded by arching her back and pressing her
breasts forward to the teasing hands.
The other woman stepped back, drawing a pout from her
bound target, and knelt to pull a small nine-tailed cat
from her bag. She moved around behind Martha, and all
watching were able to tell when the little implement
made its first impact. Martha's mouth opened wide, but
no sound came forth. For some minutes, the woman
alternately stroked and whipped the leather implement
across Martha's backside as Martha's face showed both
the anticipation and the impact.
Finally, the woman dropped the cat and stood behind
Martha, sliding her arms around the hanging girl on
either side. She moved her hands sinuously down across
bare belly to the girl's inner thighs, pulling her legs
apart as a spotlight came into focus. Martha's pudenda
were obscenely swollen, dark red, visibly dripping.
The woman waved a hand and two of the counselors came
over to release Martha from the frame. They laid her
down, feet toward the audience, legs splayed widely. The
woman squatted over Martha's face and lowered herself
down slowly, balancing on one hand while her other hand
pinched and tugged at Martha's nipples.
The air of quiet intensity in the audience was palpable.
All eyes were on the two women, one rubbing her cunt
hard against the other's face, the other lying spread-
eagled, hips hunching fervently upward into empty air.
The woman on Martha's face came, crying out into the
night as her body stiffened.
When her eyes opened again, she dramatically licked her
index finger, reached outward, and flicked Martha's clit
just once. The reaction was explosive; Martha nearly
threw the other woman off her face as she bucked and
writhed in the throes of a massive orgasm.
Eventually Martha collapsed, limp and sweat-slick, and
the other counselors came from either side to assist her
out of sight.
Now, Carl and Maria took center stage again to announce
the presentation of the session's special recognition,
the camper who made the most unexpected progress. Heads
in the audience could be seen turning this way and that,
wondering who this unknown person was. Jack had the same
thought, when Chris showed up and took him by the hand.
Shocked, Jack followed her without hesitation.
She led him silently down through the audience to the
center of the glade, and stripped him of his clothing,
all the time stroking his shoulders and settling him as
she would a nervous filly. "Close your eyes, Jack, and
float with me..."
His eyes closed, then opened again unfocused. His
muscles relaxed, and he stood calmly as the unknowing
center of attention. "Feel the Earth Mother enter into
you," Chris prompted, and his cock jerked by steps to
its full glory. Her scent surrounded him, and in his
mind he was back in those hazy dreams. Chris spoke, her
words taking on the singsong quality of ritual, and her
hand slipped down between his bottom cheeks. The rush of
blood to his phallus made his knees half-buckle, so that
Chris and another counselor had to help him stand
upright.
As they held him in place, Carl joined them and with
quiet dignity slipped his robe from his shoulders. For a
man his age, he was in excellent shape. Carl lay down on
the ground between Jack's feet, and Chris and the other
counselor held the dazed man by the arms and sides
easing him downward until he made contact with the older
man's upright cock.
Jack felt the touch at his bottom, and he spread his
legs in an unconscious but well-trained reaction, his
anus widening and snapping against the entering tip.
Jack hunched down, his mouth gaping open, and worked his
way further by fractions of an inch, bobbing and
twisting like an Indian fakir until he was seated in the
older man's lap, his bottom filled and his breath coming
in quick panting gasps.
Jack's mind floated in an erotic haze, Chris's perfume
still deep in his mind, the feel of her finger exploring
his bottom as he parted his legs further. A warm breath
passed over his lips, and once more he was in the lust-
fevered dream as that long erotic kiss pinned him in
place, her tongue probing the reaches of his palate...
The watching audience could not know that Jack was
yearning for his lover's tongue; what they saw was
Orlando, his cock still gleaming from his earlier
encounter, placing the tip at Jack's lips. Jack reached
lovingly around the Hispanic man's upper legs to caress
the other man's ass, pulling his cock inside Jack's
mouth. Jack's body moved in a hundred different
directions, and the two other men followed his lead in a
dance with only one possible conclusion, a mutual
explosion from above and below, matched by the thick
slow spurting of semen from Jack's untouched cock as the
audience burst into spontaneous applause.
Maria, Chris and a few other counselors joined the three
men on the stage as the audience left by ones, twos and
threes to their cabins. In only a brief time, the glade
was once again empty save for the indentations in the
grass and a musky scent permeating the air.
*
Jack was in the glade again, only he knew now that he
was dreaming. Still, it was a pleasant dream and he had
no desire to wake up. He was swimming, and the water
around him was alive. It kissed his skin as he moved
through it, it grabbed and dragged at his cock, it
suckled at his toes.
Chris's perfume washed over him, and he felt her cool
hands once again slide down his back and into the space
between his rear cheeks. Her fingers applied cream to
his stretched hole, and he lifted his ass up to spread
his knees automatically. A puff of warm breath teased
the proffered entrance, but his instructor had other
activities in mind. She cupped his rapidly filling shaft
in her hand, and helped him turn over onto his back.
As Jack lay there, half awake and half in the erotic
dream that had consumed him, Chris straddled his hips
and slid onto his cock then rode him slowly for what
seemed like an hour. Eventually they both came, and she
collapsed on top of him with her full breasts bouncing
against his chest.
*
Sunday morning started with the shrill trumpet sound of
Reveille echoing through the camp. Chris zipped through
the cabin slapping the tired students on their
respective rumps. "Time to get up, kids. Polar bear
swim, then we hit the running path!" Thankfully she was
only kidding about the morning swim, but five minutes
later they were joining the other campers in a 20-minute
jog around the camp, beside the river, and finally to
the meal hall.
Jack was still tired; he'd been too sleepy last night to
remember much of the recognition ceremony, and he still
seemed to have cobwebs across his brain. The morning
exercise helped a lot. Jack looked around as he munched
on his pancakes, and noticed that the hall seemed less
crowded than the previous day. He looked more carefully,
and sure enough there were fewer people than he
remembered. For one, his cabinmate Martha wasn't there.
Before he could give the matter much thought, though,
Carl ascended to the podium for a going-away speech.
Certificates of attendance, duly marked as "suitable for
framing", were handed out, and in short order the
stragglers finished their food and were chivvied off to
their cabins for pack-up and checkout.
As Jack waited in line for the van to take him back to
school, he kept having the oddest sensation that people
were looking at him. Yet whenever he turned around,
everyone was engaged in normal conversation. He shook
his head; anxiety about his writing class must be
creeping back in. Shortly afterward, Chris and Greg
drove up and took their passengers back on the road.
Just as on the way out, the odd music was playing on the
stereo, and Jack took the opportunity to catch up on his
sleep. For some reason he felt dog-tired this morning.
When he finally got back to his own room, ensconced in
familiar surroundings, Jack booted his computer and took
a shot at the writing assignment. To his great surprise,
he zipped through it in no time and with hardly any
effort. Three pages later, he had a printout that was
undoubtedly the best writing of his college career. He
whistled softly, and decided to give Sherry a call to
celebrate.
Before he could do that, though, the back bedroom door
opened and Ken came out. "Hey, roomie," he boomed out,
"how did the weekend go?" Jack couldn't restrain
himself; he showed Ken the printout and gushed about how
amazing the weekend was. "And the oddest thing is that I
would have sworn all weekend that we weren't doing
anything to help my writing. I tell you, Ken, I owe you
a big one for this!"
Ken's response was a muted chuckle, and the enigmatic
comment, "I think I've already been paid." He reached
out and stroked a spot behind Jack's left ear, and
whispered something only half-intelligible. The change
in Jack was both sudden and subtle; his face became more
placid, his nostrils flared and his breathing deepened.
Ken smiled, and this time it was the smile of the
predator. He unbuckled his belt and slid his pants and
briefs to the floor.
"Here you go, Jack, do your thing!" Jack smiled like a
baby looking at candy, and massaged Ken's balls and
rising cock. Pursing his lips, he moved his face forward
smoothly to take Ken's length easily while his free hand
worked its way between Ken's asscheeks. It was only a
few minutes before Ken pumped a load into Jack's willing
mouth, filling it until thick strands leaked out one
corner and down onto Jack's knee.
The sound of slow applause broke the subsequent tableau.
"Damn," said Sherry, "I swear the boy's a natural." Ken
grinned at her nude form, his cock popping free from
Jack's mouth. Sherry had obviously been masturbating
furiously while watching the two men; her vulva was
swollen and dark red, and her nipples were standing out
like firm erasers. "He's good, all right," Ken agreed,
"would you like to try out the other end?"
"No thanks," Sherry said as she closed the distance
between them.
"I'm sure he's trained as well as your other roommates
ended up. Right now I need cock and I need it bad, so
you'd better not have given him everything!" She paused,
and turned toward Jack who was kneeling quietly in the
middle of the room, his eyes unfocused. "Go do your
homework, sweet Jack, and we'll talk about your trip
later." Sherry grabbed Ken by his cock and practically
dragged him back into the bedroom, slamming the door
behind them.
The sound seemed to rouse Jack, who got up from the
floor as if nothing untoward had happened. He went over
to his computer and started writing. The sounds from the
back bedroom percolated through to him, and he paused to
reflect on what a lucky guy he was. It sounded like Ken
was finally getting lucky too. Maybe he would set his
roommate up with Sherry; that would be a nice thing to
do, kind of like paying Ken back for helping Jack pass
his writing course.
Life was good.
///// Completed 12-25-2001 by Rajah Dodger
rdodger@hotmail.com
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 23