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Archive name: doit.txt (ff-teens, 1st-lesbian-expr)
Authors name: Holly Rennick (jlrennick@yahoo.com)
Story title : Do It Till Dawn 

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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2003.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
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Thank you for your consideration.
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Do It Till Dawn (ff-teens, 1st, bi)
by Holly Rennick (jlrennick@yahoo.com)

***

At summer camp it's not automatic.

***

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This tale expands a passing account in 
my earlier "Writers' Forum." This one is more an A B C 
sequence. You know the Y as soon as Sandi checks in to 
camp. Some of you will guess the Z.

You've seen the erotic fiction archives where topics 
fit into boxes? Stick this one in "Summer Camp", so 
often the literary setting for sexual awakening? It is 
such a handy setting.

We're away from our parents.

We have a shot at being somebody new (if camp's not too 
long, that is).

We're with others who egg us on.

There's swimming, so sexual baiting's easy. We never 
think we'll reel him in, though.

There're the outbuildings with mattresses and the soft 
grass beyond the nature trail.

There's opportunity between scheduled activities.

There are counselors with like intentions.

Whatever happens is over by Labor Day. (Or April if May 
if we're careless. Ask around your cabin if you came 
unprepared.)

My guess is that most of our first-times were with a 
boy we knew forever. We hated the guy in fifth grade, 
had a crush on him in sixth, spurned him in seventh, 
thought he was cute in eighth and giggled to our 
girlfriends about him looking down our blouse. In ninth 
the two of us were watching Ghostbusters because we 
couldn't think of what else to do. We were maybe still 
the taller, but more ticklish. From there it wasn't 
that far to having the sex we swear we never planned. 
We knew we had to finish before his folks returned, was 
all. But it took so long to get there, longer than we 
would have had at camp.

But where could be a better story setting for a 
disappearing act with a new friend? Camp is where 
writers send their virgins.

I would appreciate feedback on this one. Just don't 
hammer me because it's not great literature. Did you 
ever encounter a well-developed male character at camp? 
This is just a camp story, for heaven's sake.

CHECK-IN DAY

When you're not quite fifteen, life's issues tend to be 
the social ones. The big issue, of course, is boys. 
That's pretty much the reason for coming to camp, to 
meet boys your folks won't even know about, to discover 
stuff. Back home, everybody knows everything, but 
camp's what you make of it.

It wasn't as if Sandi hadn't been to camp before. She'd 
been lots of times. Well, three actually: after fifth, 
sixth and seventh grades. It's just that after eighth, 
it's Senior Camp because you'll be ninth and tenth 
graders. Older than that, kids have summer jobs or 
maybe just think they're too old. So camp's where you 
can be seniors when you're really freshmen. That part 
was neat.

Being just a ninth-grader in the senior group is a 
little intimidating, Sandi might have admitted to her 
closer friends. Not having actually been to high school 
puts you at disadvantage to start with. Colored laces 
in your tennies may have expressed your personality in 
mid school, but maybe they mark you as a geek in high 
school. You just aren't sure. Maybe they do things 
differently in bigger towns.

The way to handle such dilemmas is to pay attention. 
While you're still saying, "Hi, I'm Sandi," you process 
what they're wearing, if they're chewing gum, the size 
of their makeup kit, clues all. Sandi didn't define her 
life around conformity, but she'd rarely opt for the 
bold opposite. She'd leave her bags shut in case 
something visible might identify her as being past 
tense.

A few girls would have boyfriends from the previous 
summer, but on the whole, every year's an open, if 
temporary, season. Lots of girls would have boyfriends 
back home, so camp's the chance to try somebody 
different. They'd go back to their old ones, to be 
sure, but they'd go back a bit more experienced. Just 
here you have to cover a lot of distance fast. When 
Dianne had said that last year, she drew her hand up 
her thigh and the girls laughed.

Sandi had never had a hand there. At Junior Camp, 
they'd pursued the breast part. To that end, girls 
would bring their dress-up bras, otherwise lacy attire 
with their fashionably-stonewashed outfits. Sandi had 
tossed in hers in, not that she'd even find a 
boyfriend, probably.

Their counselor Lee Anne Sandi remembered from last 
summer. Maybe a little rah-rah, but that's how college 
girls get to be counselors. From the paper on the door, 
five or her cabin mates she already knew: Dianne and 
Tara were her age. Tish, Becky and Shannon, a year 
ahead.

Sandi interpreted Antler's schedule to Mona and Bets, 
in ninth like herself. "No, we don't actually eat then, 
but we're supposed to be on the way." Somehow she 
already knew that these two were like her, not that 
experienced with boys.

Kara was going to be in tenth, but this was her first 
year because she'd just moved from Michigan or 
Minnesota, Sandi immediately forgot which. As soon as 
the parents left, but without even bothering to shut 
the cabin door, Kara changed her bra. Sandi wished she 
were as fully shaped. She hoped Kara's smile didn't 
mean that she'd caught her looking.

SNIPE HUNT

Every camp every year started off with a snipe hunt. 
The cost of being new was your credulousness. Veterans, 
having been new once themselves, would never reveal the 
one camp secret that stayed secret.

"Listen up," enthused the Activities Director after 
campfire. "We want to catch a bunch. Your counselors 
will team you up in twos." The staff, winking at those 
who knew, paired their charges, none of the new campers 
noting that their partner was likewise novice.

"OK, sneak out in a circle. Go for ten minutes and then 
sit tight, as quiet as you can. When you hear the 
whistle, everybody jump up and yell and drive the 
snipes back to the middle. They're hard to see, so just 
keep them moving."

Sandi and Tara giggled, watching Kara and Mona look 
expectantly for more guidance. There was none.

"Let's go!"

The pairs faded into the woods. Not three minutes 
later, those in the know were back. Sandi and Tara made 
themselves comfortable poking the coals. Much, much 
more than ten minutes later when the whistle signaled, 
the campfire crew heard the distant shouts of crashing 
snipe herders. The new campers were befuddled to see 
the marshmallows in process when they converged on the 
center. Next year they'd be part of the trickery.

Sandi passed Mona a gooey s'more. "So now you're one of 
us experts."

"Guess so. The thing is, though, that Kara saw it 
coming and so we hooked up with these two guys. It 
wasn't that long, but long enough to see how they kiss. 
Kara's tried to get her unsnapped, but she wanted to 
make it harder. Ask her, if you don't believe me."

Maybe being an old-timer wasn't better than being a 
new-timer, Sandi realized. Nobody had tried to unhook 
her bra. Of course, she'd have suckered and missed out 
anyway.

Sandi roasted a marshmallow for Kara too. "Guess you 
sorta tricked us in reverse."

Kara inspected Sandi's roasting ability. "Perfect! 
Crusty outside and melted inside." She ate the outside 
and then the inside, one bite each, and licked her 
fingers.

The race was on and Sandi was already seeing dust. At 
least she got her s'more right.

FORETASTE

Becky leaned down from her bunk and announced with 
authority, "Antlers gets the boatyard, everybody."

Sandi missed the significance, but figured it might be 
well not to reveal her ignorance. Bets, being new and 
thus excused, had no such inhibition, "What for?"

Becky was only waiting to demonstrate her status as 
second year. "For 'Do it till Dawn'. We get the 
boatyard."

Authority Becky awaited Bets' obvious follow-up, 
"What's 'Do it till Dawn'?" The ninth-graders were 
ears.

"You know, where we do it all night. You know, get 
together with our steady."

Sandi already felt left out. Not wanting to announce 
that she had no boyfriend, much less a steady one, she 
phrased her concern obliquely, "Well, it's not like we 
can bring our steadies from home."

"No, and even if we could, you know, who'd want to? 
Like here, maybe your steady's just for here." Becky 
had one waiting at home, it seemed.

As Sandi and the other new girls didn't want to expose 
too much ignorance about the ways of Senior Camp, 
discussion turned toward whether Lee Anne would enforce 
the No-Talking-after-Lights-Out-plus-15 rule. They 
figured she wouldn't.

When the archery instructor got waylaid next day at the 
equipment shed, Becky passed on the next bit of 
information. "So here's what you need to know. The 
campers and the counselors both have it, but it's 
separate. Like you both know, but pretend you don't. 
Lee Anne's date I'll bet will be Sal."

The girls knew Sal, counselor at the boys' cabin Bear 
Paw. He was the hunk swimming instructor who Shannon 
claimed last year had slid his hand in her top. The 
others found this plausible both ways. He'd brushed 
several of them in more-accidental manners and Shannon 
would be one who'd twist to help. She'd as much as said 
so. "Have him float you one hand on your stomach, one 
up high. It's easier to get under your elastic." Then 
she paused, looking the conspirator. "His bottom hand, 
oh God!" The others figured that Shannon was probably 
still waiting. Otherwise she would have told about the 
hand.

Becky continued, "The counselors sneak out after they 
figure that we're all asleep. Of course, they know 
we're not, but we act like it so they can go. Then we 
sneak out too, except I guess we aren't sneaking, since 
they're gone."

"So where're they sneaking, the counselors?"

"I think the Craft Cabin, but we're not supposed to 
know."

"So where do we sneak, then?"

"We get the boatyard, like I said before, where they 
pull the rowboats on the grass. Chris says I'll like it 
there." Becky had to make it known that she'd already 
secured her date. "He'll get the guys to bring blankets 
and stuff."

The boatyard, thought Sandi? Antlers had to cease their 
discussion, as the archery instructor had found the 
extra bows.

Bets pulled Sandi aside when they were retrieving 
arrows that missed the hay bales. More that missed than 
hit. "Is she taking about making out?"

"I guess."

INSTRUCTIONS

That evening the "Do it till Dawn" conversation 
resumed.

"The guy you're dating knows where we'll be," explained 
Becky triumphantly. "The boys' cabins get all mixed up, 
but Antlers stays together. It's better with your 
girlfriends to talk to. There's grass between the boats 
and we each get our own place. We sit up for a while 
and do things like wave at each other, but then he 
pulls you under. Well, actually, maybe you pull him. 
Doesn't matter."

Bets giggled, "Like do it by the water?" with the pride 
of being first to get the meaning of "it", as in "do 
it."

Becky gave a nod, "Us and our dates between each boat."

"So it's boat, boy-girl, boat, boy-girl, boat. That 
way?" queried Bets.

"That's how I said it," a bit defensive, the reply.

"Just checking. I thought maybe you got in a boat. Then 
the bench where you oar would be in the way."

"We 'row' with 'oars'. We learn all these boat words, 
but we still have to wear life preservers," from behind 
Sandi.

Sandi phrased her next comment on the fly, a safe 
guess, "And we sneak back before dawn. That's the 
'dawn' part."

"Right. The girls one rowboat on each side of you come 
at the exact same moment with you," Becky beamed. "I 
like to come once, really great. But after that we all 
decide for ourselves."

Afterwards, Sandi and Tara compared notes.

"She said 'come', I think." Sandi wasn't sure if Tara 
was a virgin too.

"Well I haven't" admitted Tara, answering that one.

"Me neither."

This endeavor seemed both enticing and frightening. 
Lots of Sandi's friends had lost their virginities in 
hasty moments with boys interested in little more than 
gaining experience themselves, more a mental rush for 
having done it that a physical one.

Sandi and her friends had figured out the mechanics 
from movies. Sandi's folks might think twice about her 
renting an R, but other girls' folks didn't check. 
They'd even watched X-rated at slumber parties. They 
knew about women who razor, how they moaned impaled 
time and time again. Some of the girls had seen movies 
showing the penetration, but nobody ever brought one to 
watch. Anyway, Sandi but knew that the video stuff was 
probably faked.

But faked or not, it seemed real to girls in their 
pajamas.

At twelve she liked to think about how a penis could 
get long. She didn't like it, though, when boys looked 
down her dress. At thirteen she learned to kiss. Only 
Michael, though, she'd let feel her blouse. In the 
almost-year since turning fourteen, he'd made it 
inside. Lots of slumber party talk dealt with getting 
felt up. It's sexy to get unhooked, but if he just pops 
you out and something happens, you can just pop 
yourself back in.

"Getting fingered" was good for whispered sleeping-bag 
discussion. As Sandi's friends used insertible products 
of various Miss designations, having someone's digit 
instead didn't seem impossible. But what if it was your 
period? A finger is just a tampon with personality. 
It's all about personality.

Sandi knew that girls played with guys too. You pulled 
on them up and down and made them come. If it got on 
your clothes, your mom could tell. Of course, if it got 
inside you, they agreed, your mom would know when you 
missed your period. Either way, it's hard to fool a 
mom.

Some girls said that you didn't have to play with it, 
just make it really hard and let him put it in you. But 
then he might push too hard and you'd get everything 
bloody. There was the size thing. Her friends had 
pictures of males far in excess of what they presumed 
to be their own dimensions. Sandi once saw a male dog 
stuck in a female.

Sandi figured it might be with Michael. But maybe 
Randy. They'd held hands in the bus. Screwing seemed 
far away from holding hands in the bus, but once these 
kids did it right there in the very back seat. She'd 
seen the stain.

But now they were talking about doing it right here in 
camp!

Sandi wasn't sure.

FREESTYLE

The Antlers-Bear Paw war began the evening following. 
Returning to their cabin after campfire, the girls' 
opened bags signaled something amiss. Their initial 
consternation about snack shop money, cameras and 
jewelry (which they weren't supposed to have brought 
anyway) seemed to be misplaced. Things just seemed to 
have been rummaged.

In the midst the confusion, Mona again looked at her 
possessions. "Hey girls, count your panties."

Kara was the first to complete her inventory, "My black 
ones!"

To a girl, a pair was purloined.

Lee Anne spoke with some certainty, "Some pathetic 
boys' cabin raided us."

The thieves weren't long unannounced. At lunch, Lee 
Anne told them what she'd been informed. "Bear Paw did 
it and we have to earn them back freestyle. Like 
wrestling. One of us takes on one of them. We each 
choose who."

Sandi found this rather extreme for the return of their 
panties, but didn't say anything.

Becky turned toward Kara, "How 'bout you. You're 
probably the strongest. Ever wrestled?"

"Psych 'em out is how," Kara deemed. It was decided. 
Lee Anne sought the representative of Bear Paw to 
accept the challenge.

That evening during free time, Antlers slipped toward a 
grassy enclave around the corner of the lake. Sandi was 
nervous, but there was safety in numbers. When Antlers 
arrived, the arena was festooned with a clothesline on 
which hung nine pairs of panties, Sandi's near the 
middle. The boys were huddled, guffawing, but mostly 
looking at the ground.

Sal and Lee Anne joked as they settled on the rules, or 
in the spirit of freestyle, a lack thereof. Kara and 
Martin, a tenth grader who wore braces, would have at 
each other until one surrendered. No hitting or 
anything that would leave a mark. That was it.

"Come on Kara, nail his ass," Tish encouraged.

Sandi heard comments from Bear Paw regarding squeezing 
Kara's breasts. That didn't seem fair. Goosing a guy 
wasn't far from the girls' minds, but they'd not say 
it.

The two contestants circled one another for a moment, 
concentrating. Martin dived and missed, Kara's sidestep 
establishing her agility. Martin's next maneuver lacked 
any sense of finesse. He rushed Kara directly, grabbed 
her shoulder and tripped her. On the ground, Martin had 
little trouble lying across her back, pushing her into 
the grass. Bear Paw cheered.

Sandi abjectly decided that the contest had cost her 
one pair of white panties. Boys have the brute 
strength. But the counselors seemed in no hurry to 
declare a winner. Perhaps sensing the referees' 
acquiesce, Martin pulled Kara up enough to reach under. 
The boys hooted at Kara's struggle as he fondled his 
targets.

Sandi looked at Lee Anne cuddling against Sal. Sandi 
looked back at Kara, now giggling at Martin's 
attention. It wasn't like he was inside her clothes or 
anything, Sandi realized and relaxed just a bit.

Perhaps due to their initial exertion, the two almost 
rested together, Martin's hand now freely roaming up 
from her waist under her attire. Kara was, if anything, 
lifting herself to afford him better access.

A bolstered Martin rolled Kara on her back and used his 
wrist to work her fabric upwards. He pulled her left 
arm upward enough to jerk her sleeve over her elbow, 
exposing half of Kara's bra.

The boys were laughing, "Take it off. Let's see 'em."

Sensing dominance, Martin left her shirt hanging and 
drew his free hand around to her bra hooks. Kara 
wiggled in resistance, but not enough to dissuade him. 
To Sandi, it didn't look like an attempt to escape. The 
unfastening clumsily accomplished, his hand returned to 
pull her cups upward. Martin straddled her to show his 
buddies her pale breasts, rising and falling, rising 
and falling. Her areolae were pink; her nipples stood 
erect for two cabins' pleasure.

Sandi pressed her legs together.

The boys hooted even more as Martin began to extract 
Kara's other elbow from its sleeve. Sandi knew she 
should be distressed at such public spectacle, but knew 
that unless Kara called it quits, she'd watch.

Someone snickered, "Pants her."

Oh God, thought Sandi, but she still knew she'd watch. 
She hoped that nobody could tell that she didn't want 
Kara to concede yet.

After a long moment, perhaps sensing Martin's diverted 
attention, perhaps sensing the hungry eyes, Kara made 
her move. She twisted to the side and rolled her 
opponent over her. Martin was still trying to extract 
his hand from her top when she had him reversed, her 
thigh wedged between his legs, her arms grasping him in 
battle embrace. No camper had expected this.

The girls cheered at their Amazon fortune.

Sandi sensed that even from the bottom, Martin could 
yet retopple Kara. She lacked the weight to pin him. 
But he didn't rise. Rather, as could be seen from 
Sandi's angle, Kara was thrusting her leg again and 
again against Martin. He tried to keep her at bay, but 
again best seen from Sandi's vantage, soon was rocking 
against her pressure. As Martin succumbed to Kara's 
cadence, she covered his mouth with hers. His right 
hand reclaimed her breast while his other hand al last 
freed her right elbow from her tangle of clothing. She 
lifted her neck so that he could push off her shirt and 
pulled her arms inward so that he could at last remove 
her bra.

Topless Kara controlled the rest of the match. Again 
and again her thigh drove against her surrendering 
victim. Some of the girls begin to count. One, two, 
three, four, five, six, seven until Martin gasped and 
shuddered, his face flushed. Kara grinned wildly and 
thrust her leg more slowly against him until he lay 
still. She gave him a kiss. Breasts proud, she flopped 
on her back beside him.

After several moments, she nestled her head on his 
shoulder and pulled his arm around her to shield her 
chest. The two contestants were whispering to each 
other. Kara rested a knee over his pants, but not 
before Sandi could see the spot.

Sandi too was as wet as when she masturbated. Wetter, 
even.

Antlers, knowing they had witnessed an orgasm, cheered 
and claimed their underwear. Sandi, who had never seen 
a male climax before, was surprised at its suddenness. 
She was more surprised at her own arousal that begged 
completion.

The Bear Paw boys faded away. Sandi heard one of them 
say that Martin may have lost, but he'd had the most 
fun.

The counselors seemed pleased too. Sal's arms were 
around Lee Anne's shoulders, Lee Anne not seeming to 
care that anyone could see Sal massaging her breast. 
Sandi figured that given the event, maybe it wasn't 
even that big a deal.

Walking back, Kara analyzed, "Show 'em some tit and 
they're sunk. But you don't want to win by too much, 
you know. I gave him my panties that they stole for 
doing a nice job getting my bra off." Looking around, 
she added, "It's fun to watch, girls watching a girl, I 
mean. Makes us want to get naked ourselves."

They walked on. Kara thought again, "Hell, maybe I just 
should have lost all the way. Win the damn thing and 
your end up the horny one." She laughed at the irony.

After lights out, Sandi replayed the contest in her 
mind to protract her arousal. Kara being stripped, wide 
eyed and laughing. Kara's breasts. The turn-about. 
Kara's leg. Martin panting. Holding each other at the 
end.

ENCOUNTER

Sandi wanted to meet boys, any boys, so when she passed 
Sean and Jacob from Bear Paw on the campfire path she 
smiled big. "Hey!"

"What's up?"

"Not much. You guys?" She hoped they could tell she had 
on her black bra.

"Just looking around, wanna come along?" the boys 
exchanging glances.

"Sure."

"Martin damn near gave Kara the kinda freestyle she 
needs," surmised Sean inaccurately, but adequately 
conveying his bias as they walked. "He was just a 
little too quick."

"She did OK," countered Sandi, titillated that he'd 
opened the subject.

They headed toward the fire site, then across the 
creek. They chatted about camp food. Sandi liked how 
they laughed when she described the spaghetti as dead 
white worms. Sean had a fun laugh, she decided.

Arriving at a mossy patch behind a fallen log, Jacob 
flopped down, "Rest time."

Sandi sat down beside Jacob and Sean claimed the spot 
to her other side. They gossiped about the counselors. 
They were pretty sure that Sal and Lee Anne were "going 
out". Sandi laughed with them at the verb choice.

"Come on, Sandi, it's rest time," suggested Sean, 
stretching out. She followed suit. A boy on either 
side, the sun through the branches, this was pretty 
fine. Jacob and Sean seemed to have more "inside 
information" (they laughed when they called it that) on 
their counselors, but Sandi changed the subject when 
things drifted too much that way.

"Hey, Sandi," asked Sean, turning toward her. "Your 
cabin set for 'Do it till Dawn'?"

She wasn't prepared for that one, but managed "Sure," 
so as to not sound fazed.

"Us too," the reply. Then another surprise, "Ever been 
kissed in the ear?"

Kissing was her business. "Maybe." She started to sit 
up.

Sean rolled his shoulder enough over hers to thwart her 
escape and ran his tongue upward against her ear. "Like 
this."

"Don't". It tickled, she decided, but didn't tell them. 
She tried to act like it was no big thing, a guy 
kissing her ear.

"Like this, then?" running his tongue inward. She 
realized he was pinning her tighter with his shoulder 
and that Jacob's weight was restraining her other. She 
minded the closeness, but found it exciting to be 
between two boys.

"I said, don't", she repeated with what she hoped was 
enough conviction.

"Ever done the rest?" Sean hooked a knee over hers.

"Let me up!" Fooling around was one thing, but not 
here.

"Like had something funner than a tongue inside you?" 
Sean now had a leg between hers, his shorts wedged 
across her knee. She knew that he wanted her to wiggle. 
But lying still might encourage him, too. Visions of 
Kara's freestyle came to her, but she knew she lacked 
Kara's attitude.

"Come on," suggested Sean, straddling Sandi's leg more 
fully. "You'll like it."

They weren't really doing anything, she hoped. She 
didn't want to be a prude. It was mixed up, what to do. 
She pushed back just a little until she sensed the lump 
in his pants. She hoped that it looked like she was 
just trying to shove him off.

"I'll bet mine's the first big one you've felt, even!" 
Sean grinned, now more aggressive with his hips. "We're 
just goofing around together," as his palm crept to her 
chest. "How 'bout you be my date at "Do it till Dawn'?" 
seemingly serous.

That didn't seem right, making her decide right now. 
"Don't know." Sandi didn't realize how hard her heart 
was pounding until she felt its throb against Sean's 
hand. Jacob's hand was on her other side. It wasn't 
fair, she thought, two against one. It had to be fair, 
like it was for Kara.

One of the two was tugging her tee-shirt upward. "Wanna 
give us a little souvenir?" Jacob was reaching for her 
bra. "You donate or we liberate."

She tried to buy time. "No fair!" Their intent made her 
almost giddy. Maybe they'd let her take her bra off 
under her tee-shirt, she wondered. It would be because 
they made her. She pictured Kara's breasts, how 
everybody watched.

Sandi's nipples showed through her now-exposed bra. She 
wanted them to see.

"Lift up," interjected Jacob. "We just want your bra, 
is all. Come on. We'll give it back."

She remembered how she'd become damp when Kara was 
bared. Kara just laughed afterwards. Sandi arched her 
back so he'd find her hooks.

"Our cabin's rematch," declared Sean, letting her knee 
stoke him. "You'll love getting your cherry popped," 
Sean spoke in seriousness. "I'm not like Martin. I'll 
hold my horses, help you come too."

"She going to fuck us," laughed Jacob. "She really is!"

Oh my God, Sandi realized. With breath she didn't know 
she possessed she yelled, "Stop it!"

There'd been nobody to hear, she realized afterwards, 
but the two boys looked startled and sat up, letting 
Sandi scramble free.

"Hey, we were just kidding."

"Well it wasn't funny," pulling her top down.

"Remember our date," offered Sean, regaining his 
coolness. "Bye bye, nice leg, till 'Do it till Dawn'," 
drawing has palm across his crotch.

She realized that her knee hadn't minded, just her 
brain, just when Jacob said, "fuck."

RETRIBUTION

The boys were braggarts; the story was already 
circulating how the two had laid this girl who dared 
them. It was true, Sandi knew, that she'd gone along at 
first. Sean's lump stroking against her. Him knowing 
that she was pushing back. Them trying to get her bra 
off. Scary, but exciting.

But everyone would believe the exaggeration; it wasn't 
how she wanted to be known when they said whom. Guys 
like that never shut up.

It was Kara who could tell she'd been the one. "Sandi, 
you didn't give it up for those losers, did you?"

How did Kara know she'd have "given it up," wondered 
Sandi? Was her virginity that obvious?

Kara read her mind. "I can tell. You're too precious. 
That's not the point, though. If it's bullshit they're 
saying, we shut 'em up." 

Sandi told the story, even the part about pushing back. 
That was the hard part to admit. She hoped that Kara 
would understand, wouldn't think that she was a prude 
and wouldn't think that she was a slut.

"They're assholes," summarized her friend. "You were 
just swimming way too far from shore, sister. If you 
hadn't yelled, they'd have raped you and left you with 
the blame. So maybe you learned something. But they'd 
didn't learn crap."

Antlers began its quest for justice. By the next 
evening, Lee Anne had conferred with Sal. "OK, listen 
up now. Sal doesn't want to know details, but you just 
tell me where you want to get them."

After tactical discussion, Becky told Lee Anne that the 
boys might enjoy a little hike up to the Lookout Tower. 
Sal accordingly sent the pair to retrieve a six-pack 
said to be stashed.

Sandi could have participated, but Kara said she didn't 
have to. "You've dealt with those farts enough." Thus 
what Sandi knew about the retribution was what her 
cabin mates shared.

Shannon and Becky had met the boys on the path and 
induced them into the trees. "Salivating," said 
Shannon. The waiting Antlers had the boys on the ground 
before they'd sorted out the turnabout. The girls who'd 
suggested kicking their genitals blue had been 
outvoted, at least temporarily. They'd wrenched the 
boys' arms backwards and used duct tape to bind their 
hands.

"So we hear that you two are pretty good," Becky had 
said. "Sandi even said she felt your cock," looking at 
Sean, "and helped you come."

Sandi was dismayed. She'd just bumped it a few times.

When Sean denied coming, "That's not what you told Bear 
Paw. You can't lay a girl without coming," ruled 
Shannon.

Becky and Shannon goosed their captives. "Zilch down 
there. Guess we gotta go the other way, then," ordered 
Shannon. "Roll 'em over."

Shannon had a wooden spoon. "Vaseline?" she'd asked, 
using the handle to dab petroleum jelly around their 
butt holes. "Got the camera ready, Dianne?" But not 
inserting was the girls' choice of victory, something 
for the two to think about.

The parting words were the best, Sandi thought. "You 
guys figure out the tape. Watch out, though. Sometimes 
when prisoners get free, the first one untied fucks the 
other." Becky said she just made it up on the spot.

In the report, Bets took her Sandi's hand. "Now they're 
historical assholes, at least."

Back in the cabin, Kara told everybody that Sandi was 
one smart cookie, the way she'd yelled to stop them. 
"Even if nobody can hear, chickenshits get worried."

For the rest of camp, Sean and Jacob lived in the 
shadows.

DEMO

"Listen up!" It was Lee Ann's counselor voice. "Tonight 
at lights out we have a demo on dating procedure." 
Needless to say, Sandi was curious.

That evening the girls, flashlights ready, gathered 
around Lee Anne's bed. Their counselor produced a 
banana. "So let's say that your steady is ready."

At first Sandi missed the connection, but the 
surrounding giggles signaled the obvious -- this was a 
penis, a big one at that.

"So maybe you already know this stuff," looking at 
Shannon and Becky, girls she knew did know. "Well the 
tennis pros never stop practicing. Or maybe you don't 
plan on needing to know for a while," glancing at Sandi 
and several others. "Things sometimes just happen. 
Maybe a guy pressures you but you can do something to 
stay safe. So the thing is that no matter what he says, 
you're not going to do him unless he wears a rubber. 
We're talking non-negotiable, OK?"

A few nods.

"Like he forgets to bring one, you have one ready. Like 
he forgets to put it on, you put it on him, OK?" more 
emphatically.

They all nodded, Sandi fully. She'd learned about 
condoms in Health Ed, the theory, anyway.

"I've got lots more in my blue bag, so you know where." 
Lee Anne dumped a selection of foil wrapped packages 
onto her pillow. "Take one and open it. Just put the 
wrappers back and I'll get rid of them."

Sandi selected a Trojan, a brand of which she'd heard, 
and unwrapped her package. The latex felt slippery.

"They have expiration dates, even. Some of yours have 
little ribs and stuff. They say it's for us, but it's 
not really. Push the middle with your thumb. If it 
doesn't act like it'll unroll, turn it around. It's 
hard to see sometimes. Try it."

Sandi realized that it was hard to tell, even with a 
flashlight.

"See the little pouchy place? You don't want a bunch of 
air in there, so sort of pinch it down when you start. 
Like this." She deftly deployed the condom on the 
banana. "But use two hands. He likes your hands on him 
anyway. Now pass around Mr. Banana and put yours on 
him. Just roll it back off when you're done. They say 
don't reuse 'em, but it's up to you. They can slip off 
afterwards, so get it out of you before stuff spills."

Some of the girls giggled at their efforts, but Sandi 
was dead serious in her practice roll. She'd heard that 
gel was a good idea the first time.

"You can go home with poison ivy, but you can't go home 
with a baby. That's the camp rule not on the wall."

At breakfast, she caught Bets also slipping a banana 
into her pocket. They blushed and then laughed.

JASON

Jason was a cute guy, both Sandi and Bets agreed -- 
nice looking, funny, not stuck up. Best the girls could 
tell, he wasn't taken, but sometimes that's hard to 
know for nice guys. They laugh around with everybody, 
not huddle in a corner with their chick. The word was 
that he was available, anyway.

Sandi and Bets debated the possibility of dating Jason, 
"dating" in the camp sense, that is. You talked, got 
seen together and made. You could end up doing it till 
dawn. Maybe.

"Go ahead, Bets." And Bets did just that. The talking. 
The walking together. The petting.

"What's he like?"

"Oh, just regular."

"No, I mean what did he do?"

"I guess he kissed me."

"So you kissed him back, right?"

"A little bit."

"Did he, you know, try to?"

"Yeah."

"Like inside your top?"

"Just a little."

"You think he would?"

"Maybe."

Bets had her steady. Sandi had missed a chance, but at 
least Bets got there. When Sandi realized that she 
wasn't even mad at Bets, she realized that Bets was 
really her friend. The two held hands as they walked to 
breakfast.

KARA

Ever since Kara had beaten Martin at freestyle, Sandi 
presumed her to be master of the male race. Sandi had 
even asked her about testicles, functionally explained 
in Health Ed, but practically yet confusing. Kara 
seemed neither inclined to under- nor overstate her 
experience. "I've maybe ping ponged five or six, guys 
that is. Twelve balls, we'll call it. They never say 
don't. Don't squeeze them or anything, is all I can 
report."

A tenth-grader like Kara would have her pick at camp, 
Sandi figured. There wasn't a Bear Paw boy, Sal told 
Lee Anne, that didn't jack off after the freestyle 
match. Antlers roared at the thought of a cabin-full of 
boys huffing and puffing in their sleeping bags as they 
dreamed about Kara's breasts.

Sandi finally got up the nerve, "You know how you 
pinned Martin, that time? Your leg did it, right?"

"Our secret weapon, I call it. That and his brain. My 
buddy, Martin. I guess we have a little history now, 
right? Everybody thinks we fuck, I guess."

"I thought maybe since..."

Kara looked at her a moment and hit her shoulder. 
"Jeeze, Sandi, it's no secret in Antlers, anyway."

"What's not?"

Kara paused a moment, "Tish, you know."

"Tish?" Tish was the reserved one. She knew a ton of 
bad jokes, the standard prank menu.

Kara saw that Sandi didn't know. "We're in love, I 
mean. The girl way."

Sandi gulped. Kara and Tish, the girl way? She more-or-
less knew the disconcerting translation. Sandi figured 
that she'd know one when she saw one. "Are you 
lesbians, then?"

"When we get naked, anyway. I've done it more with 
boys, but Tish makes me mushy."

Sandi must have taken an inadvertent step backwards.

"Shoot, Sandi. I know you're not."

"How?" Witnessing Kara being stripped had led to her 
own sleeping-bag fantasies. When they'd joked in the 
cabin about Martin, she'd lain awake until the others 
were asleep, not thinking only of Martin.

"I pay attention," volunteered Kara, more explanation 
being superfluous. "It's OK, thinking about each other. 
It's about being girls. The thing is, though, I'm still 
a shit-load smarter than you about boys, so you just 
consider me a resource about long funny looking 
things."

Sandi nodded.

"And balls too, of course." Kara fluttered her eyes. 
"And here's the way we can test the alternative." Kara 
leaned forward and kissed Sandi on the lips.

Not knowing what to do, Sandi stood there, nipples 
hardening.

"See? It proves it," confirmed Kara.

"Proves what?"

"If you were waiting for my move, you'd have melted 
like your marshmallow. Nips are just a reflex thing. If 
you thought I was weird, though, you'd be outa here. So 
you need a funny long thing and figure I know what I'm 
talking about."

Sandi grinned.

"I told you I'm a shit-load smart about this stuff," 
Kara returned to her deadpan. "Probably you want to 
feel my tits maybe? Nip on nip, us part-time dykes call 
it. But sorry, sister," ruled Sandi's first known 
lesbian, if only part-time. "So I'll blow you a kiss," 
which she demonstrated with theatrics, "in your dreams 
every time you remember me under Martin."

"Remember what?" countered Sandi, scratching her head.

"Freestylers on both sides remember. In their sleeping 
bags. Time to get you out of yours."

Sandi had a full-time friend.

It was a few days later when Sandi took Kara up on her 
resource offer. It was only a week till "Do it till 
Dawn". Were there just the Seans and Jacobs?

"Well," weighed Kara, pleased, "you gotta tell me 
exactly what to shop for. I know both aisles, right?"

"Like help me find a boyfriend."

"Now how did I know you'd say that? Smarter than shit, 
I tell myself when you forget to."

"You won't tell everybody, will you, that, you know, 
that I..."

"Got a little coaching? Trust big sister on that one."

STEPHEN

Lunchtime the next day, Kara cornered Sandi. "See that 
guy at the table behind us, red and black shirt?"

"His name's Stephen," offered Sandi. She knew every 
boy's name.

"Right. Well he needs a girlfriend."

"You mean...?"

"Right. Just doesn't know much about taking initiative. 
I think he's cuter than shit."

"You think so?"

"Remember who's the expert here. Look at his eyes. So 
just go talk to him. Not about going out or anything, 
just stuff. But work the word 'dawn'."

Stephen wasn't that hard to chat with. Talk bounced 
between school, music, movies, camp and life in 
general. She liked how he didn't try to sound big-time.

But she had to find out. "Oh, gross, Stephen. I can't 
believe your cabin ate that many Skittles. That you 
didn't all barf in your sleeping bags." Then she took 
the plunge, "That you weren't barfing it up till dawn." 
She paused, red faced.

Stephen paused too. "Uhh, no. We were just having a 
good time till dawn." Sandi detected the drop in his 
voice. He was as red.

Sandi knew she had to be decisive. "So, wanna' go for a 
walk?"

At the appointed time the two headed along the lake 
front. Sandi was nervous, but Kara said just be 
herself, that she couldn't do better than that. Kara 
had looked at her and said that with no make up, no 
special outfit, no nothing, Sandi was one sexy girl.

"Stephen, you going steady or anything?"

"Hardly. You?"

"Hardly."

The two walked silently for a bit. "Stephen?"

"Yeah?"

"You ever wanted to go out?"

"I guess."

"Me too."

After another pause, Sandi pursued. "Maybe just at 
camp, you know?"

"Maybe. But sometimes you just don't..."

"I know." She took his hand and they walked on.

"Sandi?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe, I mean, maybe we could hang out or something. 
You're kinda nice."

Sandi recognized his thought as a compliment, not a 
pick-up line gleaned from boasts in his cabin. "If you 
wanted to. Just for here, you know."

Stephen laughed, "Just for here." He squeezed her hand.

Sandi liked him. She thought another minute and decided 
to come clean. "You know how I said about you guys 
barfing till dawn, the dawn part?"

He looked down, "I guess."

"Somebody put me up to it, to check you out."

"Somebody wanted to check me out?" now looking at her 
curiously.

"I mean somebody was trying to help me check you out. 
About the dawn part," she added. "It doesn't matter."

Stephen tried to release her hand, but she held fast. 
He looked down again. "I don't know, I mean I do know 
about it, but not about me."

"OK. The funny thing is that the someone who tried to 
help me just told me you were cute. The thing is, 
you're more than that. It was the wrong reason, this 
dawn deal, but I'm glad she got me to try."

The two faced each other and kissed. It wasn't like 
Michael's back home. It wasn't like Sean's precursor to 
assumed dominance. It was their way to think together 
on the lake front.

Sandi swallowed, but had to know, "Are you a virgin 
too?"

PREPARATIONS

"Do it till Dawn" was one day away. Walking to crafts, 
Sandi turned toward Kara. "What are you and Tish going 
to do?"

Kara looked upward, "Well, sure as shit, not show up at 
the boatyard and give birds like you pointers."

"Oh." For some reason Sandi felt sad.

Maybe her tinge showed, as Kara followed up, "I think 
there's four of us not going, so we'll be OK, maybe 
have a girls' party ourselves."

Sandi started, stopped, and then started again. "Tara 
and Mona?"

Kara saved the difficulty of ending. "Me and Tish are 
just girls too. We're going to tell stories and eat 
stuff. Give me a break!"

"You're not going to do it?"

"Do it? Are we talking about sex, per chance? Shoot, 
no. It's going to be a girls' night, what half of you 
in the boatyard will wish you stayed for." Kara laughed 
at her prediction.

Kara continued. "For me and Tish, it's pretty much 
whenever. It's not like anybody notices when two girls 
wander off. Not all the shit they'd think if you 
slipped off with a boy." She looked at Sandi, "Ever 
think anything when you'd come back and me and Tish 
would be reading side-by-side on her bunk?"

"You were just reading."

"It's best on your own pillow," with a flutter of 
Kara's hand.

Later that afternoon, Kara signaled Sandi to wait in 
the cabin till the others left. "You know, Sandi, what 
I think is that maybe you should let them see your tits 
at the boatyard."

"Like you let Martin undress you that time? You wanted 
him to, right?"

"Like I said, girls like to see each other get 
stripped. It's not like here in the cabin where we just 
walk around naked."

"I've never done it before. Been stripped, I mean."

Kara reached around Sandi's jersey, unhooked her and 
slipped a hand over Sandi's breast. "You're so pretty. 
So sweet."

Sandi put her hands on Kara's shoulders.

"Afterwards you tell me, OK?" Kara concluded. "We'll go 
for a walk. Like I said, nobody notices when two girls 
go off."

That night, Becky let everybody know that she couldn't 
hold off another 24. The rest saw it for what it was, 
an opportunity to stay her self-perceived role as 
leader in things illicit. Let her, thought Sandi.

When Lee Anne was in the shower, Becky made known her 
plan. "Chris can't go another 24 either. Once you get 
in the regular groove, you know." Sure, thought Sandi. 
"So Lee Anne's promised to sleep right through a little 
activity. Don't hear; don't know, you know. 'Course 
maybe some of you sleep lighter." She laughed for 
effect.

Becky made sure they all knew when she let Chris in 
sometime after midnight. She made sure they all heard 
her toss her sleeping bag to the floor. She made them 
hear every possible zipper and snap. She made sure they 
all heard the condom process. She made sure they all 
heard her gasp. She made them hear how actively she 
finished.

Even Sandi could distinguish noises made in heat from 
noises made for broadcast. The actual coupling lasted 
not that long, not what Sandi had been led to believe 
from the sagas she'd attentively heard Becky document.

Sandi knew the floor-rolling was for effect, but she 
couldn't refrain projecting herself expert in Becky's 
role. Sandi sensed that Kara knew when her hand took 
the male role in her own sleeping bag. Sandi sensed 
that she wasn't the only one.

The next morning, Becky was pleased to make it known 
that Chris would bring plenty of rubbers for all the 
guys. "Free, even, 'cause he kyped them. We can't just 
keep borrowing from Lee Anne."

When Sandi saw Bets, she knew that her friend had 
masturbated too. The two held hands on the way to 
breakfast.

Later that morning, Kara ended a wry observation about 
mice in their cabin, "and the main thing is that 
tonight's your thing. Not just 'you' you, but you and 
him." She pondered a possibility, "If we knew which 
boat, maybe I could get under the one beside you and 
we'd have this cricket noise code. Like one chirp means 
slow down."

Sandi did her best to look thoughtful. "So what's the 
code if I'm facing the wrong way?"

"I'll croak like a frog that swallowed our mouse."

The laughing pair sat down with an arm around the 
other's shoulders.

Kara's demeanor turned less frivolous. "Seriously, 
Sandi, can I touch you just to remind me how pretty 
you'll be?"

"We'll pretend you're Stephen," Sandi grinned, but then 
added, "But if he's off somewhere, you can be Kara," 
turning inward.

"Nips like jewels," admired her friend, making them 
emerge with barely a touch,

"Kara, there's not like that because I'm... you know. 
It's because I care about you, sort of."

"I know. Sometimes we get confused. I got some shit to 
figure out too."

BOAT YARD

Lee Anne hadn't even bothered to change pajamas. She 
just waved them goodbye, pointed toward her blue bag 
and slipped out the door.

Tara, Mona, Tish and Kara, the four who'd opted out of 
the boatyard plan, arranged themselves so they'd be set 
to talk. The disparity didn't escape Sandi. Left behind 
were two girls who wanted to remain virgins and two 
girls who could rape them in concert. Sandi wasn't 
exactly sure how lesbians went about this, but she'd 
heard they know how. The ones they do it to rarely tell 
and sometimes become lesbians too. It helps to be raped 
the right way. But Sandi knew that wouldn't happen 
here, that Kara would probably help Tara and Mona 
figure out how to decide when it was right with a boy. 
The four homebodies had purloined a popcorn popper from 
the camp kitchen. "We'll save you some, we promise."

Sandi, Dianne, Bets, Shannon and Becky arrived at the 
boatyard two minutes after the appointed time. They 
didn't want to seem too intent. Stephen, Trace, Jason, 
Chris and Art were waiting, likewise doing their best 
to seem casual. Having made it there, no one seemed 
sure of the next steps.

"Hi, guys," offered Becky.

A few mumbles in return.

"So," prodded Becky, "just a time to get together."

She laughed awkwardly. One of the boys joined her, 
probably assuming an innuendo. This event could fall 
apart without more guidance, Sandi realized. Maybe that 
would be for the better, as Stephen wasn't even looking 
up.

"So maybe we just choose our spots." Becky looked at 
Chris. "We'll take the one close to the path. Anybody 
comes snooping, I'll stop them."

Actually, thought Sandi, that was generous. The first 
couple caught would be incriminated while the others 
could be getting presentable.

Becky and Chris made their way between the first boats 
on the bank. Shannon and Art were next, not looking at 
their fellow campers. When Bets and Jason, hand in 
hand, started for the third spot, Sandi caught 
Stephen's eye and bade him follow. He seemed relieved 
being told. Sandi wanted Bets as a neighbor. Dianne and 
Trace claimed the end space.

The blankets provided the boys' excuse for protracted 
arrangement. Sandi slipped off her flip-flops and sat 
down while Stephen minimized the wrinkles, then crawled 
on. Stephen sat beside her and the two looked across 
the upturned boats.

The other couples looked confident to Sandi, though she 
knew that Bets, for one, was nervous too. Bets caught 
Sandi's glance and mouthed, "OK."

OK, what, thought Sandi? Bets was OK? You're on your 
own OK? Stephen was still looking at the water.

Sandi let her elbow settle in the crock of his. "Hey, 
Stephen," she whispered. "You know I really like you 
for you, not what somebody tells you to do."

"Thanks."

"So we don't have to do anything we don't want."

"OK." He broke his lakeward gaze and looked at Sandi. 
"Maybe you'll kiss me, though?"

Sandi almost giggled in relief. Of course she'd kiss 
him! She gave him one on the cheek, just lightly. Bets 
and Jason were kissing too. On the lips. She twisted 
her head around to find Stephen's mouth.

He let her kiss him for just a moment, and then wrapped 
his arms around her shoulders. She beckoned her tongue 
against his. Sandi wanted Stephen.

Kara's being undressed came to Sandi's, how Kara had 
said that girls want to see other girls. It took but a 
moment for Sandi to pull her sweatshirt over her head. 
Bets followed suit. To Sandi, they were stripping one 
another. Somehow Sandi knew how Kara and Tish made 
love.

She wasn't sure if Stephen noticed her lace, but knew 
when he saw her nipples harden beneath. She gave him 
only enough time to barely squeeze before she thrust 
his wrist around her side. He fumbled with her snaps 
until a fortuitous squeeze disengaged all three hooks 
at once.

She started to tremble.

She lifted her arms so Stephen could remove her bra. 
The lake breeze swirled around breasts, ivory in the 
starlight, areolae no larger than a teaspoon, nipples 
pea-sized. She'd always seen them as pointy, a girl's, 
but here they looked rounder, almost a woman's.

She lifted Stephen's jersey and he pulled it off the 
rest of the way. His nipples were as hard as hers.

Looking to the side, she watched Bets bare breasted. As 
Stephen's tongue again found Sandi's, her friend 
disappeared with a salute.

HULLS

The rest would be about boyfriends. Sandi pulled 
Stephen onto their blanket so that whatever happened 
now would be out of sight. The stars magnified the 
sound of cold water lapping on the shore. Looking 
upward, hulls were their walls on either side. The 
constellations seemed close.

Stephen pushed his face to hers, "Sandi, you're 
beautiful."

Maybe I am beautiful, she thought. To Stephen. To Bets. 
To Kara.

Stephen bit his lip and placed his hand on her stomach. 
He hesitated, then whispered, "I can do it, but maybe 
not very good. Just if you want to."

Whispers, breathing, muffled promises and proclamations 
around them. Some Antlers were well on their way. She 
sucked her tummy in as much as she could. "I want to."

She worked her knee between Stephen's thighs. Stephen 
slid his hand to the snap on her shorts and twisted it 
open. "Chris gave me something."

Sandi lifted her hips. "Not this time." They both knew 
the meaning of "this time"; there'd never be another. 
Practicing on the banana seemed so long ago, so 
childish.

His hand played on her panties, her sparse hair 
bouncing within. When her shorts intervened, Stephen 
pushed them to her knees and then off. The two looked 
at the fabric bulge between her thighs, the span of 
ridge to dip to ridge. Sandi parted her thighs until 
Stephen could trace two fingers along the cotton's 
outer sides and a middle finger along the depression 
between. Her stripping should be perfect, as parley, 
not as conquest.

Stephen's touch pressed the cotton against her bud. Her 
hips rustled the blanket, a whisper in the sounds of 
the lakeshore, until he slipped within her panties, 
through her wispy fleece, between her parting lips and 
upon the seed-like hardness.

Sandi bounced with each tiny stroke. When his fingertip 
slackened, her pursuit returned him to her tiny organ. 
Her nose sensed a feminine overlay on the fresh lake 
air, as her ears registered the arousal of those around 
her. Her impending orgasm welled.

Sandi drew her hand up the inside of Stephen's jeans 
and had grasped his thrust before she realized what she 
was holding. It was distinct even within the folds of 
the denim, its hardness dispelling any question about 
it being a delicate organ. Her other hand attacked his 
belt. The button beneath required just a twist and he 
was already lifting so she'd find his zipper. Beneath 
that were his underpants, the final barrier just the 
elastic. She slipped her hand within.

His penis seemed warm, moist, larger than she'd sensed 
from the outside. Sandi realized what her friends meant 
about masturbating a boy, how you could drive the 
looseness up and down, slack skin on ready substance.

"You're so big." She wanted to say something and didn't 
know what else to say.

She pushed off his pants and pulled him toward her 
until the back of his wrist lay on the back of hers. 
Each could manually satisfy the other's wide-eyed lust. 
But wanting to be now a woman, she pushed Stephen's 
wrist away and pulled him nearer until their naked 
erections caressed.

They held themselves so until the suddenness of her 
pelvis broke the kiss and propelled him from her 
clitoris, down her slickened labia and to her openness.

The woman part of her would know what to do, she 
prayed. Indeed, her instinctive muscular contraction 
succumbed to innate complicity as he penetrated. With 
each push, Sandi felt her muscles relax; her tissue 
soften; her juices smooth, her body tingle.

When Stephen was at last fully within, the two held 
each other in motionless acknowledgement. It was only 
after they were fully coupled that Sandi began again to 
raise and drop her hips, rubbing his masculinity within 
her flesh. Slowly they began intercourse.

Around them, muted cries of exhortation, exertion and 
ecstasy mingled with the night. The rocking sounds of 
boy on girl merged with the waves.

The two virgins concentrated on their stroking. Slumber 
party stories were always about either foreplay or 
climax. The time intervening was the delicacy of which 
she'd not been told.

At last they begin their ascent toward orgasm. 
Tenderness succumbed to puppy-like challenges unspoken. 
Follow me. Take the lead. Hang on till I let you go. 
Delighting caresses succumbed to smothering kisses.

His body drove against hers; hers thrashed back. The 
two were fucking.

Sandi heard nothing, though afterwards Bets told her 
that she'd gasped with each thrust.Sandi's orgasm 
soared above the boats, the boatyard, the camp, the 
lake, everywhere.

Stephen shuddered her so much that she feared she'd 
expel him, but she remained attached to accept his last 
seeds. She squeezed and squeezed, and to her delight, 
felt another wave herself.

Only in descent did Sandi realize that she was both 
energized and exhausted. She'd made love. Perhaps she 
hardly yet knew Stephen enough to love all of him, she 
later admitted to Bets, but whatever stage this was, 
they'd still made love. Bets had heard them and it was 
real.

The plan, of course, was to do it till dawn. But 
somehow all five Antlers knew that it was about doing 
it once together.

She'd seen Bets stripped and Bets had seen her. That 
was part of the story too. As Kara said, girls like to 
see girls. But nudity residual to lovemaking was for 
Stephen alone. The couple dressed lying on their backs.

Heads popped up between the hulls. With goodnight 
kisses, the campers retreated. Sandi and Bets held 
hands on the path to Antlers, each knowing that they 
were wonderfully older.

CHECK-OUT DAY

When you're not quite fifteen, life's issues tend to be 
the social ones. The big issue, of course, is boys. 
That's pretty much the reason for coming to camp, to 
meet boys your folks won't even know about, to discover 
stuff. Back home, everybody knows everything, but 
camp's what you make of it.

Next year Sandi would be back. So would Bets. The two 
didn't know about Stephen or Jason. If the guys 
returned, the girls would double date where they could 
strip together and hear each other's lovemaking. They'd 
make the guys use rubbers.

If Stephen and Jason didn't come back, at least Sandi 
and Bets would know how to flirt. But Bets added, "You 
know what? We'll have a good time whoever shows up."

The two would have a great time, acknowledged Sandi. 
They ended up sisters, hands held for mutual 
encouragement. The two checked in as girls who wanted 
to discover something about guys. The two found guys 
who were, in fact, the sort their parents might even 
like. The two showed their breasts and felt the breeze. 
The two lost their virginities just a rowboat apart. 
They'd given themselves freely and to boys with whom 
they wanted to share it. The fact that they both 
climaxed was cause for more popcorn after they returned 
to Antlers. Boys brag; girls celebrate, Kara had noted.

Kara had warned that afterwards Sandi would wonder if 
it was right. Physically Sandi was a proud little hen, 
but that didn't say much about validity. She was happy 
because Stephen was happy and she knew that he was 
happy because she was happy. She and Bets decided that 
some things are just meant to be circular.

Stephen had been so sweet; Sandi decided, that she 
might love a guy like him even if they didn't have sex. 
Bets countered that sex was biologically necessary. 
They both pointed out that the other was arguing from a 
very small sample size. They'd give it more thought. 
"No," said Bets, "more practice."

"Do it till Dawn", Kara had observed afterwards, was a 
camp activity like the snipe hunt; a "rite", she called 
it. She'd given Sandi her big-sister look, 
illustrating, "Like now you don't go goo-goo when you 
meet two assholes on the path."

Sandi and Bets were checking out as young women who 
realized they would never discover everything. That was 
the best part. Maybe next year they'd discover they 
were a super canoe team. Maybe they'd discover 
something more about guys, even. Probably about sex, 
but maybe more. They'd do it together. Sandi had never 
had a sister with whom to discover things.

She'd gained two sisters, actually. Kara's was the hand 
that led her to find her own pace, realize her 
questions, discover. Kara may have been a "shit-load 
smarter" about a lot, but was still a sister exploring 
the world too. Sandi had never had a sister to help her 
along the path. She'd never had a sister who after the 
deed could tell her that even when the "wonderful" 
dulls a little, it's still "neater than ice cream." How 
could Sandi not love her?

Sandi cried when she saw Kara stuffing her duffel. It 
didn't matter what the others thought. She ran over and 
gave her friend a big kiss on the lips. Quick as a 
wink, before any of the others could register it, Sandi 
flicked her tongue against Kara's. Kara flicked back. 
That's how they said goodbye.

As Becky wouldn't be back either, she took it upon 
herself to transfer her authority.

"So Sandi, you get it going next year, OK? My idea is 
you maybe draw names. Whatta you think? Horny, right? 
Maybe then everyone will want to keep at it till dawn, 
like it says. You gotta remind the new girls about 
using rubbers. The thing is, Chris had me going so much 
that I about peed. Really! He sucked me so hard that I 
came in his mouth. Ever suck a guy?"

Sandi's thoughts had already emigrated. Bets close by. 
Stephen asking. Stephen deep inside. How she squeezed 
him while he climaxed. How she and Kara the next day 
walked to the mossy patch by the fallen log. How Kara 
said nothing when Sandi put a blanket in her daypack 
and had then put Sandi's pillow in hers.How Kara 
stripped her and she, Kara. When they'd kissed, how 
she'd melted like a marshmallow.

Camp was about boys. She was pretty much about boys 
too; Sandi knew that much. Kara was about discovering 
that love's a larger issue.

THE END

****

Holly on the Web

Wherever you found this story on the web, thank you to 
the server. My problem is that I've no systematic way 
to update the various servers. As literary errors (or 
just poor word usages) are made know to me, I'll repair 
that which is salvageable on 
http://www.asstr.org/~Holly_Rennick/. My website's not 
much graphically, I admit, but HTML isn't my native 
language.

You can contact me via the site's message form, that 
HTML code by the smart people at ASSTR.

I won't be changing the story significantly, so if you 
didn't like it before, that much will remain the same. 
But if you did like it, an update may read a bit more 
cleanly.

Holly

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Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 26