"The poor old guy nearly went crazy. I guess his wife must never have gone down. ...
"My head was getting dizzy from bouncing so hard, then ... it happened. He went wild, pulled my hair, beat on my head, and went completely mad as I made him dry."
CHAPTER I
Camp Deerwood July I
Dear Joey Baby:
Boy, is this a dumb place you wouldn't believe it! I don't know why my fucking stepmother ever sent me here, it's such a dumb place. Well, I do, too. She sent me here so she could get rid of me for a couple of weeks, or maybe longer. I wish you were here, Joey. You and I could have some screwing fun together. We could sneak away from this dreary camp and hide in the bushes somewhere long enough to have a go at it. You know what I mean. I sure miss you, Joey. I miss having you ram that thing of yours up my twat. Boy, do I ever like that. Mmmmm, baby, do I! But how are you, Joey? Do you miss me? Would you like to be able to crawl on top of me this very instant? I wish you could. It's so stupid being here with all these dum-dum girls. Honestly, I don't think there's a sixteen-year-old here who isn't a jerk. Talk about backward babes, boy, we've got 'em here at good old Camp Deerwood. And you ought to see the old broads that run the camp. Talk about your queers, man, have we got 'em here? We certainly have. Old bitches, most of them: they stare at you when you are getting dressed like they wanted to eat your snatch, which is probably what they want all right. Some of the counselors are okay, though. These are younger women, almost girls, in fact. So far I haven't seen much of these, the ones I have around me all the time are the old bitches, the ones that stare.
Hey, Joey, don't forget you promised to write to me. I know how boys are about writing letters, so I won't expect you to write a lot of them or even one long one, but I sure would like to have you write maybe a one-pager to me, will you? Rub your you-know on the paper (ha ha) before you mail it. I'll kiss the spot. That ought to give me the hots for a while. Maybe I'd better not do this, though. Getting the hots in this dumb place might be awful, if you know what I mean. Anyway, do write to me.
Boy, Joey, I should never have brought up the subject of the hots. Just writing those words on paper have made me horny with my pussy itching. Gee, I wish you were here so you could stuff that hard tube of yours up my moist cunt. It's moist all right. You should feel the moisture running from it right now. I had to wipe it with several pieces of tissue just now to prevent the stuff from" dripping down my legs. God! How am I going to stand being here for two more weeks away from my guy? I tell you, Joey baby, I'll go nuts if you don't write to me right away. I just have to read something from you since I can't get anything else from you for two weeks. Please, Joey, sit down the moment you finish reading this and write to me. Write some exciting stuff, tell me how you'd like to fuck me, stuff like that. You know what I mean. Lay it on me, baby. Say anything you like. Spark me, that's what I mean.
Wait a minute, Joey baby I have to do something.
There, I feel better now, but it still didn't satisfy me enough. Oh, I forgot you don't know what I'm talking about. After all, you aren't here, Joey, are you? You're there at home reading my words. Well, I just had to do it, I had the hots so bad. I mean I had to poke my finger in the slot and rub the button off. Boy, if that isn't something, to think a girl like me should have to resort to masturbation to keep from going nuts. I tell you, Joey, I just hate that stepmother of mine, sending me off to this creepy place where I can't have you to crawl on top of me. I have an idea that this was one reason she sent me here. Imagine me, a sixteen-year-old being in this crummy camp with a bunch of wet-behind-the-ears children. (All these kids do here is giggle over nothing.) Anyway, I rubbed myself off and it helped somewhat, but I'd much rather have you stick that long cock of yours in me, baby. Boy, do I like to have that tube of yours fill me with sap. I like the way it fills me, too, if you know what I mean. I mean the way it takes up space inside of me, the way it moves in and out and makes me weak all over from the friction.
I'd better watch my language. I'll get the awful hots again and getting them is no fun when I can't get 'em off properly.
Oh, boy! I've been here two whole days and, as I guess you can tell from the way I've been sounding, I'm bored to tears. I tried talking to some of the other girls, but they were shocked out of their skins when I very casually mentioned that I'd rather be in your car with you, parked on a dark side road, than do all that swimming and athletic stuff. These kids thought I was awful for saying that. At least, they tried to act that way. I think some of 'em anyway, liked hearing me say it but were too afraid of what the others would think to listen to me anymore. This happened just a short time ago and after the girls had all left and I was alone, I decided to come to my cabin and write you a letter. You understand what I am talking about. I can say whatever I please to you, Joey, and you understand every word. That's one of the many reasons I like you so much. Make that love you so much. You're such a nice guy, Joey, even though my stepmother does tell me I shouldn't go around with you. That old bat. She doesn't want me to do anything that's fun. She wants me to do exactly as she says, which of course I don't do. What does she know about how a girl these days feels about things? She hasn't been a young girl in forty years. (Okay, okay, I know she's not that old.) She doesn't want me to go around with you because she doesn't want me to get any pecker. I know her. She wants all the pecker for herself, the dumb old broad. As if a young guy like you would want to top her, for example. You could have more fun with a pillow, Joey.
Hey! I got to go outside for a moment. One of the wardens just shoved her ugly old head through the door and said all girls had to be outside for an inspection, or something. What are they going to inspect our crotches?
I'm back now, Joey. Some dumb girl lost her watch and was accusing practically everyone in the camp of stealing it. She found it on a rock right where she had left it, according to one of the other girls. All the girls in camp are kind of mad at her for accusing them of stealing the fool thing. All the girls except me I couldn't care less about her accusations. Nuts to that dum-dum.
Now where was I before I was interrupted? Oh yes, I was talking about my stepmother. But never mind. I don't want to talk about her, the old bat. Have you seen my father since I came here? If you haven't, and if you do before you write back to me, will you tell him I miss him? I can't write to him, the old bat would hide my letter from him, I know she would. Oh, how I detest that woman. I don't know why dad ever married her. I guess he needed someone to crawl in bed with but why her? If worse came to worse, he could have well, I'll say it. I know you won't be shocked, Joey, because you understand me and know how I am put together, but if worse came to worse, my dad could always count on me to help him.
There, I said it. I'd be happy to fuck my father!
I don't care. I meant it. I would do anything for my father. I would have gone to bed with him if I had thought it would have prevented him from leading a life of hell with that old bat. I know that's the sort of life he has. She's just impossible to live with, to even be around, but there I go again, talking about my stepmother.
Joey, have you been out with any other girls since I've been gone? Of course, by the time this reaches you, I will have been gone only about four days, but I wish you would tell me the truth. Please don't ever fib to me, Joey. If you've been out with another girl, tell me. That is, tell me if you want to. I'm not demanding that you do. Anything I can't stand is a person who makes demands on someone else all the time. I'll have to watch myself in this respect. It's very easy to get caught up in making demands on someone you like.
"Wait a minute, Joey. Someone is at the door and I'll have to stop for a time.
It was just one of the kids. She wanted to borrow a dollar from me. I gave her the buck and she thanked me about a hundred and fifty times for it. She wasn't a bad-looking brat. Had big titties. I'll bet you a dollar she's never let a boy grab her there. Dumb thing. I could just tell. These dumb virgins all have that don't-touch-my-titties-or-pussy look about them. Anyway, I gave her the dollar and she's gone, so I can continue writing this letter to you. What was I talking about before she came to the door? Oh, yes, I was asking you if you'd been out with any girls. Well, come to think about it, I guess I'd better not ask you that. It would only make me miserable if you wrote back and told me you had been out with someone. Still I hope you won't lie to me, Joey, and knowing you as I do, I don't believe you will. By the way, be sure to address your letters to Miss Edy Dorn, Camp Deerwood. The old broads say all mail must be addressed in that manner, I don't know why. Guess they think it teaches girls to be very proper about such things. Seems to me, however, they are teaching us to tell other people how to address an envelope, and this strikes me as being kind of snooty, as if we were saying other people didn't know how to address an envelope to a girl. Well, to hell with that. I don't know why I'm talking about that dumb stuff. Far as I'm concerned you can address my mail any old way you like as long as you don't call me a whore on it.
I wonder what it's like to be a real whore, Joey. Have you ever seen a real whore, a woman who walks the streets for money? I don't know if I have or not. I'll bet they have fun. Imagine having a different guy sticking it into your cunt every hour or so. Boy, I think that would be great, don't you, Joey? Hold it. What am I saying? Of course you won't think it's great. You're a man. And especially you won't like having me say I think it would be great. Sometimes I'm kind of dumb, Joey. I say things without thinking. Actually, I didn't really mean that about it being great. I mean the whore bit. It would probably be an awful way to live. All those dirty bastards crawling on top of you all the time. I'll bet that lousy stepmother of mine would like it, though. She's such a stinker. Sometimes I think she'd fuck with a. . . well, never mind. I'm not going to put that down on paper, you'll just have to guess what I meant.
Hey, Joey baby, you know what? For some crazy reason I've got a case of the hots again. I guess it's because I'm talking to you on paper, it makes me feel as if I'm next to you. Boy, what am I going to do, being up here at this stupid camp for two more weeks? I tell you, I'm going to flip if I don't see you, somehow or other. Do you suppose you could swipe your dad's car and drive up here someday? Man, would it ever be nice to meet you just outside the camp and go for a ride in that car. Think of the session we could have, in the car, or lying on a blanket in the bushes. There're plenty of bushes around here, Joey. Nobody would see us. Even in the daytime. All these stupid people here do is swim and play tennis and so on. Hell, who wants to play tennis? Only thing a tennis racket is good for is to stick the handle up my you-know-what. Whew, I wonder what that would feel like? Bet it would be better'n nothing. I'd prefer having your cock stuck up my slit. You know that, Joey, or you ought to.
Talk about interruptions, which I wasn't, of course, but I have to stop this now ... one of the old broads (camp counselors) just stuck her head in the door and told me to come to dinner. I'll be back after awhile, baby.
I'm back.
What a stupid meal. Pancakes and sausage. That's breakfast food, not dinner stuff. These dumb broads who do the cooking don't know much about it. Not that I'm any great cook, but I at least know the difference between breakfast and dinner food.
Gee, Joey, I miss you so much.
How I wish I could see you, put my arms about you, have you put your arms about me. Oh, baby, it's awful being at this stupid camp. I feel like doing something wild and desperate, and don't be surprised if I do.
Hey, Joey. Do me a favor. Right now, stick your hand down inside your pants and finger your bobo for me, will you? Give it a couple of good jacks. One for you, one for me. Boy, how I'd love to get my fingers around that dink of yours. Oh, baby, just thinking about your prick makes me want to cream in my panties. You know something, Joey? If I had you here this very minute I'd lip that dink of yours until you'd cream all over Camp Deerwood. Wow! What a sight that would be. These dumb girls here would be scared out of their tennis matches if they ever saw real male come. Take my word for it, they would. What an awful bunch of clucks they are. I tell you, I've been here only a short time but already they get on my nerves. You ought to see them first thing in the morning, right after their dumb thirty-and-back swim. They salute the flag, for Pete's sake. Honest they do. Saluting the flag is okay, I guess, but not when they force you to do it. Then it becomes stupid.
Oh, the hell with those dumb girls.
I want to talk about you. I mean I want you to write and tell me all about what you've been doing. If you want to, I mean. If you don't want to, that's okay. I'm not going to make a lot of demands on you. Not me. Not ever. But like I said before, Joe, I sure wish you could get your dad's car and come up here someday real soon. I know. It's a long way from the city to this camp, but you could drive it in a day, couldn't you?
I guess I'd better get off that. I'm just being selfish. For you to take your dad's car and drive up here ... well, that would get you in bad trouble with your folks, so I'll shut up about it. All I'm trying to tell you, Joey, is how much I miss you and how much I'd like to see you right now. This very moment.
Boy, I'm getting the hots again. My pussy is itching something terrible!
Guess I'd better knock this letter writing off for a time. Maybe I'll add more to it tomorrow. 'Bye for now, Joey baby.
Well, here I am back again and I'm taking up where I left off yesterday, Joey. I still would like to see you, if only for an hour, but I know I might as well forget about it if I didn't want to go nuts. Let me tell you what happened last night. Remember my telling you about this girl who borrowed a dollar from me? Her name is Irma. Irma Welch. Boy, is she a dumb ass. You'd never guess.how dumb this girl is. I mean she doesn't know anything. She acts like she was brought up in a Spanish convent, though to tell the truth, what I know about Spanish convents is practically nothing. Well, anyway, I went for a short walk after supper and she followed me. I heard someone walking behind me I was about five hundred feet from the camp and in the woods. I turned around real quick and saw this girl, Irma. She waved her hand at me, which was awful stupid of her because she was only about ten feet away.
"Hi," she said. "You taking a walk?"
I stared at her, hardly believing what my ears had heard. What did she think I was doing selling life insurance? "Yeah," I said. "That's right. You got it correct the very first time. I'm taking a walk."
She trotted up to me for all the world like a puppy. "Can I ... can I take a walk with you, huh?" Her brown eyes looked like a mutt's eyes, too. Big and soulful and ready to go all scared at a moment's notice.
I took it easy with her. "All right," I told her.
"You can take a walk with me, though I'm not going anywhere. No place to go. Nothing but woods and lake, that's all there is in this godawful place."
She smiled shyly. "You don't like it here at the camp, huh?"
I frowned a bit. She might be pumping me and, having gotten my low opinion of the camp, she might go back and curry favor with the counselor broads by squealing on me. I don't trust females. Sure I know. That's a ass thing to say about members of my own sex, but it's the truth I don't trust females. Not even myself, sometimes. "The camp's okay," I told her. "Don't you like it?"
She grinned kind of oddly. "Sure. I like it fine. I like it just fine. It's a good camp. I'm having lots of fun at Camp Deerwood."
The hell she was. I could tell by the look in her eyes. She didn't like this place any better than I did, but probably for different reasons. "That's too bad," I said rather coolly. "Have you complained to the counselors about the camp?"
Her face became a bit white and her fingers flew to her mouth. "Oh, my goodness no. I wouldn't dare complain about it. Besides ... Here she lifted her head up a bit and tried to stare into my eyes in a straight manner, I guess you would call it. It didn't quite come off that way. She had to shift her glance elsewhere a couple of times in the following ten seconds. "Besides," she went on, "Camp Deerwood is a very nice place. The people who run it are very good to us girls."
I felt like throwing up at hearing this piece of nonsense, but I didn't, of course. I just looked at her shy face and decided to scare the living hell out of her.
"Kid," I said, "have you ever been socketed?"
Her big brown eyes got bigger. "Have I ever got ... what?" she asked, her voice faltering.
I changed the wording a little. "Have you ever been spoofed?"
"Spoofed?" Her face was a puzzle. "What does that word mean?"
I sighed. "Okay. I'll ask it straight. Have you ever been fucked, kid?"
Her face became as red as it is possible for a face to be. "What a terrible thing to say."
"What's so terrible about it? Don't you ever get hot pants, kid?"
She looked down at the ground. "Yes," she said, softly, very softly. "I have them right now. That's why I followed you into the woods."
I rubbed my upper lip nervously. What was she a Lesbian? "Why follow me, kid?" I asked roughly, calling her kid over and over again because it made me feel good, not because I was any older than she. "I'm not a guy. I can't do you any good."
Her face was very red now. "I saw you playing with yourself in your cabin awhile ago. It made me hot. I thought I might be able to..." Here she did look me straight in the eye. "I thought maybe I could help you a little if you'll let me." She bit her lips and I saw her hands tremble. "Will you ... please?"
CHAPTER 2
Talk about being surprised. Joey! Boy, was I ever. The look in this girl's eye was really something else. Lust, baby, just pure, plain old lust. This shy kid was a sucker, or at least she had strong tendencies. She wanted to make love to me. Boy, did she want to make love to me! I could see it on her face in her eyes, this urge she had, and it was, as I just stated, really something. I hate to put it this way because you may not understand how I mean it, but the look of lust in her eyes was frightening. I don't mean it frightened me. In fact, I'm not sure how I mean this. Maybe I mean it was frightening to see her come alive sexually right before my eyes and for her not to be quite aware of what was happening. I was fairly certain she didn't know, not really, what she was asking for.
"You want to help me, kid?" I asked, hardly believing I was doing so.
"Yes, if you'll let me. I know you got the well, the hots, and I got 'em, too, so I'd be glad to do something for you. I..." She broke off, bit her lips and averted her eyes.
"What is it you want to do?" I asked my pulse racing, I tell you, Joey, I was shaking inside something terrible and that surprised me a whole lot. Did I want this girl to fool around with me? Was I so hard up for your cock, Joey, that I was will to settle for this dum-dum's efforts, whatever they might be?
"If we could go behind that bush over there," she said, her voice faltering, "and if you'd be good enough to take your pants down."
"You want me to take my pants down?" I asked, my heart thumping like crazy. "What are you going to do if I take them down?"
The girl reddened even more and still averted her eyes from my gaze. "I'll. . . I'll kiss it for you. I mean, I mean I'll kiss it."
"You want to kiss my cunt, Irma? Well, I'll be damned."
She looked alarmed now. "Please," she begged. "Don't swear. Swearing .makes it seem so very dirty."
How about this girl, Joey? She wanted to kiss my pussy but thought my words were dirty. Wow! What a girl. "You must be kidding," I told her. I searched her large brown eyes for something, I wasn't sure what. Could be she was a weirdo, a psycho, something, and I thought searching her eyes, looking into them deeply, might give me a clue. Of course it didn't. "Irma," I went on when she seemed unable to speak momentarily, "do you realize what you just did? You propositioned me, girl to girl."
She knocked her brown hair away from her face, for it was very long and hung down over her face and shoulders. It actually covered her face much of the time. I got the idea that she liked it to do this because it gave her something to hide behind when she was embarrassed or self-conscious. "I know what I said to you. Don't you want to go behind the bush and take down your pants, Edy?" Her brown eyes looked into mine and, brother, were they ever pleading with me.
The hots came over me as they do when you give me one of those sexy looks, you know what I mean, Joey. "Come on, kid," I told her. "You want to get between my legs. Let's find out what you got in mind."
I took her hand and she clutched mine fiercely. We went behind this bush she had pointed out and I examined the ground. It looked fairly clean, there were lots of old leaves around, and so I made up my mind quickly. Pulling my panties down to my knees, I lay down on my back and stared up at the girl. She was biting her lips and flushing like mad.
"I'm scared," she whispered, but I noted she was breathing fast and hard. "Will you promise not to tell anyone if I suck you?"
"Won't tell a cat, kid. Get with it." I was growing hotter by the moment.
She dropped to her knees near me and ran her hands over my legs. It felt pretty good but not great like when you do it, Joey baby. The next thing I knew she had run her tongue up my thigh all the way to my juicy hole. She ran her tongue through the hair and dipped it into my box while I nearly flew up and hit the tree branches.
Irma lifted her head a little and looked at me. "That feels good, huh? You like that, huh?"
"Yeah, kid," I answered, breathing heavily. "I have to admit that feels pretty fair."
She pouted. "Why do you always call me 'kid'? I'm as old as you."
"Don't you like it, kid?" I asked. "Why not? What's wrong with it?"
"Makes me feel so awful young and dumb. I'm not dumb. I know about sex and stuff."
"If you know so much why are you yappin' about it? Get busy. You wanted to fool around, so fool around, damn it."
"There you go, swearing again," she pouted, but she also lowered her mouth to my pussy again.
I closed my eyes this time and, boy! did I get a thrill. This girl stuck her tongue up my pussy about four inches or more. Then she pulled it out and it rubbed my button, causing me to gasp and cry out at the same time. Now, Joey, baby, I imagine you don't want to read about me being tongued off by this girl, so I won't spend a lot of time on it. I'll just tell you that I got 'em off real good. Make that pretty good. Irma is going to be my pal for the next two weeks, you can depend on it. I know you won't mind, Joey. If I were going out with some guy and letting him cock me, that would be something else, but I don't think you have any reason to be ... well, jealous or anything. Have you? Write and tell me, Joey baby
All my love, Edy
Four days later Edy received a letter which she tore open and read immediately.
Dear Edy:
I got your letter and, brother, does that camp ever sound like a stupid place. I don't mind your letting that girl suck your cunt, but isn't that a pretty dumb thing to do? First thing you know you'll turn into a Lesbian. Is that what you want, for Pete's sake? How would you like it if I wrote and told you I'd just let some stupid fag go down on me? Huh? How could you? Answer me that, baby.
Love, Joey
Edy's face fell when she saw what a short letter it was. "He's mad as hell," she muttered. "I shouldn't have told him about Irma." She had no more than uttered these words when she realized this was nonsense. Joey had simply written this way to her to show he was a man, and men don't like having their females giving in to other females. For this reason he had been short to the point of curtness, but she knew he didn't really mind about Irma. "Goddamn it," Edy murmured. "I'd better write another letter to him. She got out her writing paper and a pen and started in.
Camp Deerwood July 5
Dear Joey:
Hey, baby, are you mad at me? I mean, really? You asked me how I would like it if you let a fag go down on you. I wouldn't mind, if that was all you could get at the moment. I wouldn't want you to prefer having a fag to me, but, like I said, if that was all you could get at the moment, what's wrong with it? It would be better than nothing, wouldn't it? Besides, I didn't get all that worked up about letting Irma tongue me off. Boy, you should have seen her run away when I blew and started pulling her hair at the same time. I guess it scared the hell out of her. Maybe she thought I was psycho, or something. I lay there on those leaves and laughed my fool head off at the look I had seen in her eyes. Man, what a dumb girl she is. I hope I never impress anyone with being as dumb as she is. I really believe having a boy's prick rammed up her a few times would do her a world of good, as my father always says. A world of good, I mean, not the other part. You'd never hear my father using language like that. Or would you? Gee, I don't know. Well, never mind about my father. I want to talk to you. First thing I want to say is this: The moment you read this letter I want you to sit down and write a long letter to me. Please do this, Joey, If you only knew how I ache to see you, to touch you, you'd understand why I want to read your letters. I mean long letters, not just a few lines like the one you just sent me. Honestly, I ought to be mad at you. Imagine. Your girl gone away for two weeks or, who knows? maybe all summer, and all you can write is a few lines, mad lines at that. You should be ashamed, Joey. No ... I take that back. You have a perfect right to be mad ... only I hope that you aren't mad now ... by the time you read this. Are you?
I have something else to tell you, something a lot more exciting than going on about that dumb kid, Irma. After supper last night I took a little walk into the woods all by myself and guess what I saw? One of the younger counselors was sitting on the ground with a man, a guy about twenty-five or so. He wore overalls and looked like a farmer, but he was no rube, Joey. He had his hand under the girl's dress and was feeling her up good. By the way, this Miss Horton is about twenty-five years old and a very pretty, well-stacked brunette. She's also a nice woman. She smiles all the time and seems to like her job. In this respect she's not like some of the others, especially the old broads who run this camp. They act like they hate everything except getting a peek at one of the young girls' titties. Well, anyway, this farmer I found out he was actually a farmer later, and that his name was Jules was feeling up Miss Horton something wonderful. Boy, did I get a charge out of spying on them. Miss Horton acted like she was hot as could be and it goes without saying that Jules was, the way his face was lighted up and the way he acted. Made me get wet pants just from watching them. I tell you, Joey, I had more fun watching them and seeing their passion than I had with Irma. Oops! Forgot. Forgot J. wasn't going to talk about what she did to me.
Well, anyway, I stood there, or squatted there for an awfully long time and watched Jules make love to Miss Horton. Boy, I was so hot I could hardly keep from running up to them and asking them to let me in on it, to make it a three-way deal, but, of course, I didn't. I suppose I would have stayed there for two or three hours if they had, but darkness came on about then and I heard her telling him they had to stop because it was a rule she had to be in camp before darkness fell. When I heard this, I ran quickly and quietly back to camp and went straight to my cabin. (By the way, the girl I had that first day as roommate got sick and had to be sent home, so I'm alone in the cabin now. They wanted to move another girl in with me, but I told them I liked it the way it was.)
(Wouldn't you know it, Joey? I had no more than writen those words down about liking to be alone in the cabin than one of the old broads brought Irma to the door and informed me that Miss Welch would be my roommate for a while.)
Well, anyway, I arrived back at my cabin with the worst case of hot pants you ever saw. There was nothing else to do, so I used the handle of my hairbrush. Worked okay, but nothing like yours, Joey. You have the best "hairbrush handle" I ever felt.
As I said before, they brought Irma to move in with me, so I suppose I'll have my hands full warding her off all the time. No kidding, Joey. I'm not going to give in to that little Lesbian ... not all the time, at least. Now don't you get all jealous and everything. I love you. I can't help it if they moved her into my cabin, and I also can't help it if I get hot pants now and then. You'll just have to get used to the idea, Joey, but then, I know you and you won't really be jealous, despite the short, cute letter you wrote. like I said before, baby, sit down and write me a nice letter. A nice letter is all I'm going to have of you for nearly two weeks, or maybe longer. Please, Joey. Please write me a nice, long letter? Will you, honey? If you do, I promise that when I get home, I'll fuck with you all night long first chance I get. Which is to say, of course, the first night my stepmother leaves town with daddy for the night. This doesn't happen often, but it does happen, the old bitch.
Hey, Joey, remember me telling you about the man named Jules that I watched screwing Miss Horton? Well, he just came to the camp and cut down some trees for us, for. the old broads, I should say. They hired him, I guess. I got a look at him close up and he's a real man type, you know what I mean. like you, Joey. Real male. Boy, I don't blame Miss Horton for letting him fuck her. I would myself.
Oops!
Sorry, Joey. Didn't mean to say that. I was just kidding. Anyway, this Jules wouldn't look at me for two seconds, not when he's got a real woman like Miss Horton. Not that I'm not a real woman, because I am, but Miss Horton, well, she's more his age. One thing I didn't tell you about this Jules guy. I saw his cock when he was fooling around with Miss Horton in the woods. You wouldn't believe it if I told you how big he is, Joey. Honest to Pete, I think he's got something wrong with him. No guy should have a dick that long and that big around. It reminded me of my cousin's Shetland pony. I saw the pony one time when it had a hard-on. Wow! Well, this Jules guy, his dick is almost as big. Hell with Jules, Joey. I want to talk about you.
Have you been out with any girls since I've been at camp?
Have you? Please be honest with me and tell me if you have. Otherwise when I comeback to town all the girls will snicker behind my back, thinking they know something about my boyfriend that I don't. You know how some of these damned girls are, they like nothing better than to hurt somebody's feelings. Sometimes I'm ashamed to be a female, I honestly am. Boys and men aren't nearly as bad as females in this respect. Boys and men lie a lot, but at least they don't try to hurt a girl's feelings all the time. Not with their mouths anyway.
Wait a minute. Irma just came in and wants me to do something for her. No. Nothing like that, Joey. Not sex, I mean. At least I don't think so. She just wants me to help her fix something or other ... I'll write more a bit later.
Whew, that Irma, is she ever something! I don't know what to make of her. All she could talk about was Jules and how big his prick looked through the cloth of his pants. All this time I thought Irma was an out-and-out Lesbian and now she starts raving about the size of Jules' thing. She asked me a half-dozen times if I had noticed the man's dick as he squatted on his haunches to rest in between cutting down the little trees. I didn't say much, didn't tell her I had seen him fooling around with Miss Horton in the woods. You could have knocked me over with a feather when old Irma started talking about him. like I said, I was sure she was strictly a pussy-kisser. Guess I was wrong, eh? Well, anyway, I guess I like her better now than I did before. Before I thought she was dumber'n hell. Now I just think she's dumber'n anyone ought to be, which is an improvement.
Hey, Joey. I had a dream about you last night. I think I started to tell you about it awhile ago, but I got sidetracked. Anyway, in my dream, you were trying to do it to a female dog. How about that, baby? By the way, tell me something. Do boys ever think or talk about doing it to female dogs the way girls sometimes talk about male dogs? Come on now. Tell me truthfully, do they? It may surprise you to know that some girls confess that they sometimes think about letting a male dog fool around. Well, not really, I guess, but they fantasize about it. The reason they do this fantasizing about male dogs is ... well, a dog can't tell on you, you see. Young girls, thirteen or fourteen, are generally scared to death to fuck or not for fear the word will get around. Do boys really tell other boys as often as I've been led to believe? Oh, boy! What a dumb question I just asked. How would you know how much I believe about this. I've never told you. The truth is, I don't know. Oh, the devil with it. I don't know what I'm talking about here.
Irma is lying on her cot looking at me oddly. I get the feeling she is remembering how she kissed my pussy in the woods. Makes me goose-bumpy all over just thinking about that. Wonder how I'd like kissing a pussy? Tell you one thing, Joey, if I have to stay here much longer that's what I'll end up doing. You know me, Joey. I'm a hot-blooded gal. I need my kicks. When I get the hots ... well, I really get 'em.
You know what that dumb Irma just asked me, Joey? She asked me if I'd ever sucked a boy's thing. That's the word she used. Thing. I laughed and asked her a question in return. I asked her why she wanted to know. She reddened and wanted to know if I was mad at her. Good grief, she's such a dum-dum. I never saw anyone as much of a dum-dum as she is. Brother! Anyway, I told her I wasn't mad at her and repeated my question. She told me she wanted to know because she was interested in all kinds of sex talk. How about that? She's interested in all kinds of sex talk. I asked her if she didn't mean all kinds of sex and she got even redder and mumbled something or other and then buried her face in her pillow.
I laughed again and told her I was sorry if I had embarrassed her, but for the life of me, Joey, I couldn't see how what I had said could embarrass her. She sat up a moment later and asked me point-blank if I had a regular boyfriend who "did it" to me. I didn't figure that was any of her business and I told her so, but not angrily. Didn't make any difference. She burst into tears anyhow.
"Irma," I said kind of sharply. "Cut it out. You act like a twelve-year-old sometimes."
She stopped crying immediately and wiped her eyes with her knuckles, like a small boy does sometimes. "I know I do, Edy," she said. "I can't help it. I'm so awful dum and stupid. I'm not a bit smart and ... and ... sophisticated like you."
This kind of puffed me up a bit, I don't mind telling you, Joey. Imagine me being called sophisticated. Gee, it pleased me, I have to admit it. I smiled at her. "You do all right, Irma," I told her, trying to be as kind to her as I could. After all, Joey, she was turning out to be better than I had thought she was. I mean, not as dumb as I had thought.
She wiped her eyes with her knuckles again. "I don't do anything right, and you know I don't, Edy. I'm too dumb to ever do anything really right."
"Don't be so hard on yourself," I said quite innocently, but this remark turned her on something fierce.
She jumped off the bed. "That's the way I like to hear people talk," she cried, though I still didn't know what she meant. I hadn't put it together yet.
"What?" I stammered.
"You said 'hard-on.' Tell me about boys and their hard-ons, Edy. Tell me all you know about it. Have you ever had a boy's hard-on in your ... mouth?"
I drew back a little, so to speak. She was getting rather personal again, but the more I thought about it, the more I relaxed. What the hell else did I have to do besides write this letter to you, Joey? I figured I might as well get a charge out of old Irma. I decided to talk real dirty and see what happened to her. "Sure, Irma," I replied, speaking slowly for dramatic purposes. "I've had a boy's hard-on in my mouth. Lots of times."
Brother! You'd have thought I had tossed a bomb on her cot. The way she jumped off it and ran over to mine where I was writing the letter on a book propped up on my lap, my legs drawn up under me. I
"Tell me more about it," she cried, her eyes as filled with lust as when she had pussy-kissed me. "Tell me about having a boy's thing in your mouth. Oh, it must be delicious to do that." She flung herself on my bed and grasped my leg and began to drool at the mouth. "Tell me," she begged. "What does a boy's prick taste like, Edy. Tell me ... tell me, darn you. Don't torture me this way."
CHAPTER 3
I tell you, Joey baby, this kid was so intense she nearly broke me up. I had to fight myself to keep from laughing in her face for a few moments. Finally, I got control over my emotions and managed to keep a straight face and looked deeply into her eyes. "It tastes like your. . . finger, Irma, except that it has a ... nice, delicious odor to it. . . like nothing you've ever smelled before." I watched her eyes as I spoke and sure enough the lust that was in them grew like crazy. What a girl this kid was turning out to be. I'd figured her all wrong at first. Nothing unusual about that, if you will recall something, Joey baby. I had you figured wrong at first. Remember when I called you a mama's boy and the way you slapped my silly face? Boy, did I deserve that. You should have belted me a good one. I had it coming. Shit, what an awful thing to call a guy. Hardly anything any worse than calling him a mama's boy, in my opinion. And was I wrong. Whew. I was never so wrong in my life, which I found out that very night in your car. Some mama's boy you were, the way you reamed me. Gee, honey, just thinking about it makes me hot all over. How long have I been in this awful camp five years or what? It seems like five years.
To get back to Irma. Well, she was clutching my leg, like I told you, and looking all intense and excited and hot and everything else you can think of and I knew she was dying to have me tell her the details about having a boy's dingus in my mouth. So ... I laid it on her. I laid it on pretty strong. In fact, I was getting a kick out of seeing her turned up so high from what I was saying. I told her exactly how it felt, how long it took to make the boy flow, and then I began crying out passionately about how much I missed you and your cock.
"Oh, do tell me about him, your Joey," she cried, her brown eyes as big and round as could be.
"Well," I told her, "Joey is just about the nicest guy in the entire world in my opinion. He's handsome and cute and nice and good-looking and..."
"How big a thing has he got?" she wanted to know eagerly.
You'll forgive me, Joey, for fibbing a little to her. I told her you had more than ten inches and when I said this she just about flipped.
"I didn't know boys got that big," she cried. "I thought only middle-aged men were that large."
"Middle-aged men?" I said, astonished. "Where did you get that idea? Who told you that?"
"A middle-aged man," she said, and I glanced at her sharply to see if she was being cute, or something. She wasn't. Her expression was perfectly serious.
"He was kidding you, Irma. Age has nothing to do with it, the size, I mean. It's what a guy's born with. It's how much talent he's born with." I giggled at calling it talent.
Irma giggled, too. "Can I use my talent on you, Edy? I mean, right now?"
"What's your talent, pussy-kissing?"
She flushed. "Yes. I guess so. I'd like to ... to ... well, you know what I mean."
"You want to stick your tongue up my box. Right?"
"I don't care what you call it. I want to do something." Her expression changed from an ordinary one to an extremely passionate one, if I was any judge. "Believe me, Edy, if there was a boy or man handy who was willing to give me a good reaming I'd go to him, not to you. Please," she added, alarm in her eyes. "Please don't be offended at that. It's just that I'd like to be fucked and can't get it."
"I know what you mean." I said soberly, my pulse quickening. "I could use a man myself." (Meaning you, of course, Joey.)
"There are no boys here," she said as if I needed to have that explained. like hell I did. "So," she went on, "I have to do whatever I can."
"And you think I'm the answer. Is that it, Irma?"
She flushed again and averted her eyes momentarily. Then she looked me boldly in the eye, which surprised me. "I don't mean to insult you, Edy. It's just that you turn me on a lot."
Just to see what she would say in response, I asked her a question. "What do you think about sneaking out of the camp tonight and walking to that town we passed through when we came here? We could probably find a couple of boys who'd fuck us. Then we could come back to camp and sneak into our cabin and no one would ever know."
Once again she flushed. "You know we couldn't get away with that. They check the cabins two or three times a night. They'd be bound to discover we were gone. Besides ... I'm not so sure I could let just anybody do it to me.
"Okay," I said, pulling my leg away from her arm. "Forget I ever mentioned it. It was a lousy idea anyway." I pushed my writing materials away and got off the bed and walked to the john. That's what it was, too a John. No shower or bathtub, just a squatter. Oh yes, a washbowl. I washed my hands for something to do, dried them and returned to the bedroom portion of the cabin. My eyes may have bulged a little. That nutty Irma was lying flat on my bed, her skirt pulled up, her panties down, her box exposed. She also had unbuttoned her blouse and her titties were in plain view. "Hey," I said slowly, my heart thumping fast. "What have you got on your mind, kiddo?"
"Lock the cabin door, please, Edy. Then come and lie down with me."
I nodded excitedly and went to lock the door. Then I got on the bed and pulled up my dress. I wondered if we were safe or if I was being a fool for allowing her to talk me into the situation. I didn't feel right, so I got off the bed and looked at her titties. Then I pulled my panties off and moved closer to the bed. Reaching down, I took each of her titties in my hands and fondled them passionately while I pushed my box close to her face.
"Kiss me," I told her. "Kiss me good, kid."
Well, Joey, that girl really kissed my pussy. She licked my legs and crotch and inserted her tongue up inside of me and wiggled it about in such a way that I nearly lost my mind from sheer pleasure. Hell, how I blew and blew and blew. It was almost as good as that time you put the blocks to me in your car, the time in the cemetery. Remember that, Joey? Remember how you got down on your knees in the front seat and I spread my legs as wide as I could. You pulled my box up to you and stabbed it with your prong. Boy! I don't believe I'll ever forget that session. I hooked my legs together behind your back and you placed your hands under the cheeks of my butt and brother, did we have a session. Remember it, Joey?
Of course this thing that Irma did to me wasn't anywhere near as great as the cemetery scene with you. All I am saying is, it reminded me of the passion I had that time. I'll put it this way. Irma was pretty good at it. I guess this was because she is such a wildly passionate girl, though you'd never know it just by looking at her or talking to her. You'd think she was too slow or dumb or something to ever enjoy sex. Not so.
This Irma gal is really something. Funny thing. I'm positive she isn't queer in the real sense of the word. I mean, she doesn't like girls to the exclusion of boys. I thought this at first, but I don't now. Oh, the hell with talking about her. The reason I do is because there's so little else to write about. Please, Joey, be nice to me. Sit down and write me a long letter right away. If I don't hear from you soon, I swear I'll die.
Love, Edy
The next day she received a letter from Joey. Apparently he had written again without waiting to receive her letter. She tore the envelope open eagerly and sank down on her bed to read it. Irma wasn't in the room, so Edy could rub her box now and then as she read the thing and no one could see her doing it.
Dear Edy baby:
I'm sorry I wrote that snotty letter to you.
I've felt like a heel ever since, so even though you haven't written back to me, even to give me hell, I'm sending this along in the hopes you will forgive me for being such a mean bastard.
There's not much happening here. I did go out with a girl last night and I feel kind of guilty about it. I know. I shouldn't feel that way. I remember the talk we had before you went off to camp. We promised that if we went out with someone else we would tell the other and let it go at that. No guilty feelings, nothing. Well, I've just told you, but I still feel guilty. The reason I feel guilty is, I suppose, because she let me go all the way with her and it was good. I hope you won't be mad at me for doing this. I don't think you will. Anyway, I'm going to tell you something about it because outside of telling you I love you and miss you, I don't have anything else to say. You know how I am, how most boys are about writing letters. It's just not my bag. I write like an idiot, my handwriting, I mean. You probably won't be able to read most of it.
This girl I went out with funny thing I don't even know her name. I picked her up on the street and asked her if she'd like to go for a ride. Hey ... she was in my car before I could get the door open, almost. Talk about eager to get laid, this gal was not just eager, she was crazy to get laid. So ... I drove out into the country (don't worry; it wasn't the place where you and I always go. I wouldn't let any other broad, excuse me, any other girl go there with me; that place is just for us.) I parked the car and before I had the headlights turned off she had unzipped my fly and was snaking her hand into my pants. Man, did I get a hard-on in a hurry. She surprised me further then by bending over and taking my prong between her lips and sucking it. Honest, Edy, I'm not making this up, not that it was all that hard to believe, but it is rather unusual. Usually, a girl waits for the guy to make at least one overt move. That's your word, Edy. Overt. I remember you using that word. You're so much better at using words than I am and I've learned a lot from you, more than I ever have from any of the English teachers, those dumb slobs. They can't teach anything, the ones I've had. All they can do is holler for more money, which I guess they're entitled to. What the hell am I talking about? I started out to tell you how the girl went down on me and here I am yapping about English teachers. That's what I meant when I said I didn't have anything to say. Anything interesting, I should have said. Well ... I told you about the girl and how I don't feel quite as guilty as I did when I began this letter. To tell you the truth, Edy baby, I'd much rather read your letters than write one, but you probably know that without my spelling it out. Please ... be ... no ... I won't say that ... you do what you want to do, honey. If you see some guy up there who turns you on, go ahead. Lay him. But tell me about it right away. Okay? Write to me again, baby.
Love, Joey
Edy put the letter away after reading it through twice. Her twat was pulsating with desire for Joey. Moisture ran down from her slit, making her thighs damp. She shivered as she lay on her cot and thought about Joey's prong and the way he could use it. She liked to think about Joey's prong. She remembered the first time he had laid her. It was as vivid in her mind as were the past ten seconds. She and Joey had been ... She was obliged to interrupt her thoughts because someone was standing at the door of the cabin looking in at her. She blinked her eyes and saw immediately that it was the farmer named Jules. Her heart jumped crazily and she pulled her dress down instinctively. She was amazed when Jules opened the door and stepped inside.
"Excuse me, Miss," he said. "Are you the one called Edy?"
"Yes," she replied, looking at his crotch, and not wanting to. That is, she wanted to, but she didn't want him being aware of her stare. "Yes, I'm Edy. Edy Dorn is my name. Did you want me for something?" She caught her breath as the words escaped her lips.
He grinned. God, what a big, handsome bastard he was. He looked like a big Swede, or what she thought a big Swede should look like. "Did you know the entire camp has gone on a hike? How come you didn't go with them?"
"I told the head counselor I had a headache," Edy heard herself say.
Jules ran his fingers through his very blonde hair and stared at her legs with his light blue eyes. He grinned again. "I saw you were alone, so I thought I'd drop in and say hello to you."
Edy swung her legs off the bed, her skirt creeping high on her thighs. "Hello," she said, smiling seductively. God, how she'd like to have this big bastard on top of her. "Your name is Jules, isn't it?"
He moved a step toward her. "Yes. Do you mind if I talk to you for a while?"
She half closed her eyes and looked straight into his blue ones. "No, I don't mind," she replied softly, seductively. "Happy to have you in my cabin ... alone with me, Jules."
He blinked ... once. Then he grinned again. "If you don't mind my saying so, you're a very pretty girl, with all that long blonde hair, those blue eyes and those big..." He stopped.
"Yes? Those big what, Jules?"
He laughed. "Better not say it. Might get into trouble with the old girls."
"But they're not here, so how can they hear what you have to say?" Edy was fascinated by this big guy. He looked all male and four yards wide. She tried to imagine what it would be like to have him topping her and filling her with his tube.
Jules approached the bed. "Okay," he said easily, "I'll say it. Your big tits. You have nice, big tits. I'd like to fondle them, kid."
"
Edy wasn't too fond ordinarily of being called "kid," but when this big guy did it, it didn't seem to matter much. "You making a pitch for me, baby?" she said, not intending it to come out as a question, which it did.
Jules sat on the edge of the cot and the thing threatened to tip over. "Hey," he cried. "These cots aren't built for. . .you-know-what, are they? Pretty flimsy things."
"You mean, don't you, that the cot wasn't made for fucking?" Edy couldn't see any point in wasting time on build-ups.
"You get right to the point, I see," he rumbled deep in his throat. "Good. I like a girl who's not afraid."
His brows shot up. "Really, kid. Have you been laid by a man or just some punk?"
Edy didn't care too much about this sort of remark, but she didn't want to turn him off, so she simply smiled and said, "If you're such a man, why don't you get swinging, buster?" She had no more time to say anything because the big man was already on top of her, ripping her pants down her legs savagely. She closed her eyes as he brutally rammed his prong into her, filling her more than she had ever known before. It was all she could do to take that much cock. She gasped as he pumped his wicked, large tool into her cunt and in no time at all she felt her body shudder violently as the orgasm happened.
Camp Deerwood July 7
Dear Joey:
Boy, have I got something to tell you, honey. I've just had the world's largest cock in me. Now don't get all mad or anything. You promised not to, you know. This guy (that Jules fellow I told you about, the one I had watched with Miss Horton). . . well, he came to my cabin today and laid me just like that. I was a push-over for him. Man, I'm telling you I could no more have resisted that big ape than I could have gone all summer without eating. He just looked at me and I knew he was going to sink the shaft in me, the sooner, the better. Now, please, Joey, don't be jealous. This guy doesn't mean a thing to me. He's just a big, adult substitute for you. I nope you realize the truth of this.
Anyway ... he really fucked it to me. I swear I went off three or four times in a row before he squirted a drop in me. But squirt in me he did. It was really strange the way he did this, too. He would squirt a little and then stop. Stop squirting, I mean, not pumping his prong into me. He never stopped that once. Then he would squirt a little more into me. It was very hot and when I felt it strike my cunt walls I nearly went out of my head from the wild pleasure of it. I suppose a lot the excitement I felt was due to the fact that he is a lot older than I am. As a matter-of-fact, he's pretty old, probably twenty-five or so, I don't know. At any rate, he's awfully old for me.
Wait a minute, Joey. Irma just came in and wants me to do something or other. That girl. She's always wanting me to help her with something.
Damn, she wanted me to fix the elastic on her panties, the little phony. She just wanted to watch me while I handled her panties. True, the elastic was broken, but it looked like it had been cut. I fixed it easily enough, tying a knot in the thing. I tossed the panties to Irma and she thanked me and slipped them on quickly, wiggled her butt about and sighed. I grinned at her, knowing she was getting a charge out of this. I thought maybe she would leave then, but she didn't. She just sat down at the foot of my cot and looked at me.
"Hey, Irma," I said. "I'm writing a letter to my friend," meaning you, of course, Joey. "Don't stare at me so hard."
"You got it this afternoon when the rest of 'em were out for a hike, didn't you, Edy?"
I blinked. "How did you know?" I asked, astonished, for I was certain no one had seen Jules here.
"I watched the whole thing, Edy. Isn't he wonderful."
I stopped writing altogether now. "What do you mean you watched the whole thing? What whole thing?" My heart was thumping slightly, but whether it was from anger or passion I wasn't sure.
"I dropped out of the hike when I saw you weren't in it. Made an excuse, told Miss Horton I'd been having trouble with irregularity, like they say on television. I told her I had to go back to the camp. She told me it was all right, of course, and I came back just in time to see Jules enter your cabin. I sneaked up close and watched what he did to you. Oh boy, it nearly drove me crazy, the way he pumped that awful thing into your ... your ... well, you-know-what."
I was slightly annoyed to hear she had spied on me. "You mean my cunt, Irma?" I asked testily. "That's what I always call it. I never call it my 'you-know-what' and neither does anyone else who isn't a complete jackass."
Her face fell a mile. "Oh ... now ... you're mad at me ... aren't you, Edy? Gee ... I'm awful sorry." She dropped her eyes and turned her head and I saw a tear run down her cheek.
Well, you know how I am about emotional exhibitions like this, Joey. "Come off it, Irma," I said as kindly as I could. "I didn't mean to make you cry. Please stop."
"I can't help it. You're the best friend I've got at the camp and I had to go and spy on you and Jules. I don't blame you for hating me."
"I don't hate you," I said, frowning. "Cut out the dramatics, will you?"
"I'm not being dramatic. I'm not being anything. The reason I'm not being anything is because I'm not anything. I'm nothing, just pure old stupid nothing. I hate myself." She began to cry like crazy now.
There was no other way I could think of to make her stop it, so I reached out suddenly and slapped her face hard.
The change in her was terrific. Not only did she stop crying but she lifted her dress over her butt, pulled down her pants and begged me to spank her.
"I don't want to spank you, Irma," I told her, astonished at this turn of events. "I'm not your mother."
"Please," she begged, the tears flowing down her cheeks again. "Please beat me. I need it so. I want you to beat me terribly. I'm an evil girl. I must have someone beat me."
CHAPTER 4
Well, Joey baby, what can you do with a nut like this except what I did? I pulled her over my lap and spanked her butt until it was red. Then I pushed her away and she fell to the floor, which I hadn't meant her to do. She let out a cry and I swear, Joey, that she actually enjoyed hitting that floor so hard. What a weirdo she was. She got up after a moment and lifted her dress again, her panties still down around her knees. She came close to me and put her hands behind my head and looked at me in the strangest manner imaginable. Her hands clasped behind me, she pulled on my neck while at the same time allowing her front to press against my side. I was half lying down now and half sitting up, but when she pulled harder on my neck I sat all the way up and looked at her bare tummy, which was exposed to my view. I stared at her navel and smiled tensely. This kid was making me hot and I knew it. What's more, I think she knew it. I looked at her furry place and the moment my eyes traveled to the spot, she pressed it against my arm and began rubbing it up and down against my flesh. I felt moisture coming from the opening that was hidden by the fur. My breathing became rapid and I knew I was about to kiss a pussy. First, however, we had to have the cabin door locked. I told her to do this and while she scampered across the room, I pulled down my panties. Having pulled them down, I decided to remove them. By the time she had returned to the bed, my cunt was exposed to her view, my legs spread apart, but only a little. Girls should never spread their legs wide at first. I have found this to be true. A girl who spreads her legs wide at the beginning runs the risk of cooling off the other party. I think this is because the cunt should be hidden as long as possible from the sex partner. It turned her on. I think it did.
She clasped her hands behind my neck again and pressed her furry spot to my lips. Boy, Joey, you wouldn't believe how hot I became. It was something else, the way I felt. I smelled her furry spot and noticed how clean and nice the odor was. I brushed my lips and nose through it while she moaned and pulled on my neck with more strength than I would have thought she had. This kid was really turned on now and when I placed my hands on her butt cheeks and pulled her to me even more, she groaned and began to pump her loins about, much in the manner of a guy fucking. I had to hold her firmly to make her stop this. She finally got the idea and stood leaning over me, draped over me, I was about to say, her box against my lips, her stomach going in and out fast. I noticed that her stomach was wet from perspiration and wondered what the remainder of her body must be like if her stomach was perspiring that freely. I kissed her cunt and she sighed and moaned almost at the same time. She was holding on to my neck so fiercely now that I thought she was going to break it. I mumbled some words up at her to loosen up a little, but because my mouth was buried in her fur and because she was in such a far-out, hot state, she wouldn't have heard me anyway, I forgot about her yanking on my neck and concentrated on dipping my tongue into her cunt. The first time my tongue entered her, she shuddered like someone who is ill. The second time it entered, she shivered and hung onto me even more fiercely.
"Suck me off, honey," she cried thickly. "Suck off my box."
I pulled back from her fur. "Don't pull down so hard on my neck," I told her firmly. "I can't enjoy your box if you keep trying to push me lower than I need to be."
"Sorry, honey ... oh ... oh ... my God ... I love this ... suck Irma's cunt, Edy. Make me cream."
I wondered where she had picked up that word. Cream. Man's word. Women don't cream, do they, Joey? I always thought only men creamed. The guys juice. Isn't that what they mean by cream? Oh nuts. Why am I asking questions of you, Joey. I just want to tell you about this session with her. Well, anyway, not to go on and on about it, I began to lick her box and to dart my tongue in and out of her, trying to run it over the bottom each time. Apparently, I was doing it the right way because, believe me, Joey, this kid went absolutely out of her mind during the next ten minutes. Or twenty minutes. Or whatever length of time it was. To tell you the truth I don't know how long I tongued her pussy. In one way it seemed like a very long time and in another it seemed like only a minute or two. Everything is relative, isn't it? Isn't that what the science teacher always used to say? Still does, for that matter. God, I'm glad I don't have to take science again this year. I hate that dumb stuff.
Hold it, Joey. I'm getting off the subject. Well, this nutty Irma, after being kissed and tongued by me and blowing off an awful lot of times, flopped down on the bed and with her cunt still pressing against my mouth, began to kiss my box passionately. I closed my eyes, occasionally tonguing and kissing her, but for the most part allowing her to kiss me off. Brother! Did she kiss me off? like crazy, she did. That girl kissed me off better than anyone has ever done it.
Well, Joey, anyone except you, of course. You're the greatest ... in every way. When I say this kid, Irma, did it to me beautifully, you have to remember that I'm here in this godawful camp where sex is practically nonexistent, though anyone reading my letters to you might not think so. But you know me, Joey, baby. I need an awful lot of very hot sex.
Anyway, old Irma lipped and kissed and tongued me until I had had three orgasms, one following almost immediately after the other, and by the time the third one had taken place, I was as weak as a kitten. So was Irma, by the way. She collapsed on the bed, her head still between my legs, her own legs still over my shoulders, her pussy only inches from my lips. I kissed her once or twice and then pushed her off.
"I'm tired, Irma," I told her. "Got to take a rest, kid."
"I love you, Edy," Irma squealed. "I just love you all over, every inch of you. You're so wonderful." She looked at me boldly now, there was none of this eyes-averted stuff now. Irma was growing up!
Boy, Joey, this kind of shook me up. I wasn't too sure I wanted a girl telling me she loved me. Made me feel kind of like a Lesbian. Hell, baby, I'm no Lesbian. I don't mind trying anything having to do with sex, but this bit about having a girl say she loves me ... well, you know what I mean, baby. Piss on that stuff. If anybody's going to tell me he loves me, I want that person to be you, Joey. And by the way, man, how about writing and telling me exactly that. Think you can swing it. 'Bye for now, Joey, baby. Keep your dick hard for me, honey.
Love, Edy
P.S. It is now the same day, only late at night. Irma is sound asleep and snoring like an idiot.
She has her own cot, of course, and you should see the way she is sleeping. Her titties are exposed purposely! I saw her pull them out of her nightie before closing her eyes and she has kicked the sheet off her lower body. Here's the thing that makes me laugh, Joey. You won't believe it, but she has her thumb stuck in her pussy. How about that? I don't think I ever heard of a girl using her thumb. It never occurred to me, I know ... Hey ... I just tried it and it works pretty good. One thing about using the thumb is that while it is shorter than your middle finger, it is thicker. I kind of go for thick ones, but you know that. I've often told you how much I enjoy your thick cock. Anyway, this Irma ... boy ... is she ever a character. She sticks her thumb in her box the way very little girls suck their thumbs. I have to admit it's kind of. . . cute, though, I hate that word "cute." I'll never forget the time you called me cute and I sulked half the evening. Do you remember that time, Joey?
Oh, boy. I guess I'm tired. Think I'll knock this off for now and seal the envelope. Seems to me I write letters that are a whole lot longer than you do, Joey. Please write me a long one, won't you? 'Bye for now, honey.
Three days later Edy received a letter from her stepmother. With distaste, for she recognized the handwriting. She opened the envelope and sitting down on her cot, read the letter with every possible bit of dislike.
Dear Daughter: (Edy snorted when she read the salutation. She wasn't that broad's daughter and never would be.)
I can't understand why you haven't written your father or me. You ungrateful girl. You don't appreciate the sacrifices your father and I made for you, the ones we made for you in order for you to attend that exclusive summer camp. Not every girl has the opportunity to attend such an exclusive and, I might add, expensive camp as Camp Deerwood. I think the very least you could do is to write to me. Heaven knows I try to make you a good girl. It's been extremely difficult for me to bring you up properly. Your father while he is a fine man and makes very good money is certainly not equal to coping with a young, headstrong girl like yourself. I'm sorry, but I must demand that you write to me daily from now on. I had intended keeping you at the camp for only two or possibly three weeks, but your complete neglect of your father and me forces me to write to the head counselor and tell her we want you to remain indefinitely. Now don't argue with me. It's all settled. You are to remain at camp until they teach you proper manners, something that I seem to have failed, though heaven knows I have tried very hard. You are simply a very ungrateful girl and I have given permission to the head counselor to have you severely punished if you break the camp rules. In fact, I have told her that she should give you the extra treatment, as I believe it is called. You'll find out what this consists of if you get out of line too far. Now then, I insist that you sit down and, if not to me, then to your father, write a long letter. It wouldn't hurt you to tell him how much you love him and how you appreciate all he does for you. You don't need to tell me this. Tell him. I don't need your thanks, just your obedience. I hope you take this to heart and understand me, girl. I shall take no disrespect from you, now or at any other time.
Your loving mother Verna Dorn
Edy threw the hateful letter on the cot and doubling up her fist, beat her pillow until her arm became tired. "That dirty old bitch," she muttered angrily. "Writing me a letter like that. Goddamn her. I hate that lousy broad."
At that precise moment Irma walked into the cabin and heard her. "Hey, Edy," she cried, her face showing concern. "What's buggin' you, honey?"
Edy wasn't the kind of person who ordinarily allowed others to read her mail, but in the case of her stepmother's letter she didn't mind at all. Picking the hateful paper up she handed it to Irma. "Read this and see if it would make you mad. It's from my ever-lovin' stepmother, the old bitch."
"Whew, you sure look mad, Edy. What'd she do roast you for something?"
Edy waved her hand. "Read the godawful thing. It's self-explanatory." Edy coughed. "My stepmother is such a lousy bitch she couldn't write anything to anybody that wasn't a roast."
Irma took the letter over to her cot and lay down and began to read it. When she had finished she looked at Edy sympathetically. "You're right, Edy. She is a bitch, a very hateful one at that. How can you stand living with her?"
Edy shrugged. "I can't. One of these days the cops are going to arrest me for committing murder, sure as hell. If I were eighteen, I'd be long gone from my father's house. I've been thinking about cutting out anyway, eighteen or not. I don't trust myself around that female. About the only good thing I find in being here at camp is that I don't have to look at my stepmother or listen to her awful mouth."
"I see what you mean, Edy." Irma brought the letter back and handed it to Edy. Edy glanced at it, frowned and tore it up, throwing the pieces in a wastebasket.
"I feel like getting drunk, Irma. You know any way we could latch onto a bottle or something? Wine, maybe or even beer."
Irma shook her head. "We can't leave the camp without permission. You know that, Edy."
"Listen, I'm so mad I'm about ready to try sneaking out of camp after dark, walking to town and getting a bottle and a guy and having me a ball. How about it? You want to try it with me?"
"Edy, we can't buy a bottle. We're too young. You know that."
"Hell, there's no problem there. First thing we have to do is to pick up two guys who are old enough to buy it. From there on it's simple. We get drunk and fucked and maybe, if the guys are okay, we'll get a ride back to camp." Edy looked at Irma seriously. "How about it. Have you got enough nerve to try it?"
Irma looked frightened. "I'll do whatever you want me to, Edy. If ... you want me ... to sneak out of camp and go to town ... then by God, I will. I'm your friend and what are friends for?"
Edy looked at Irma quickly. "Look," she said. "Don't put this on a friendship basis. I'm talking about going to town and having a ball and seeing if we can get away with it. I don't want you to go just because you're my friend."
"I want to go," Irma cried fiercely. "Of course I do. I'd like a guy just as much as you would."
Edy breathed a sigh of relief. This was one area she hadn't been certain of whether or not Irma would go along with getting fucked by an older and strange man. "Good," she said. "We'll go to bed early and when it's good and dark outside we'll cut out for town through the woods."
Irma's fingers flew to her mouth. "Through the woods. Do we have to go through those awful dark woods?"
"Not really. We'll stay in the woods just long enough to get away from the camp."
Irma let out a long sigh. "Oh ... that's more like it. I'm scared to death of the woods, especially at night."
"Just as soon as supper is over, we'll tell the head counselor that we're sleepy and want to skip the night exercises. Then we'll come here, put on something decent, something as sexy as we can dig up from all this junk clothing we were allowed to bring here. Then we'll turn out the cabin lights, stick our pillows under the sheets to make it look like we're in our cots, and then off we go. I hope you're a good walker. It's quite a ways to the town, you know." Edy coughed again. "Probably someone will see us on the road, hopefully a couple of young guys, but not too young. If this happens, we're in. We'll have a ball with 'em and won't have to walk to town."
"Boy, Edy," Irma cried, her voice lowered as if someone might be listening. "Just think. You and I are going to get fucked by some old men tonight. Wonderful. Wonderful."
"Cool it, Irma," Edy said carefully. "We don't have to settle for real old men. Nothing over forty, I'd say."
Irma was rubbing the front of her body between her legs. "Oh, I can almost feel that old man's prick in me already."
Edy just smiled.
CHAPTER 5
July 10 Camp Deerwood
Dear Joey:
I'm not sure I should tell you the details of what happened to me last night, but knowing you as I do, I'll take a chance and give you the low-down. Besides, I feel like talking about it and after I have written this letter I'll read it. If it sounds too ... frank ... too far-out. . . then I'll just tear it up and not send it. That way you won't know what happened, though to be absolutely truthful about it, I want you to know. I think I owe it to you to tell you the whole truth and nothing but the truth, as the saying goes.
Well, Joey, Irma and I sneaked out of camp last night and headed for the highway where we got picked up by a couple of middle-aged married men. We didn't want to go out with them, but, even more than that, we didn't want to walk all the way into the town. So ... we got in the car when they stopped (they said they were going to a lodge meeting, but they soon forgot all about that) and they took us to the town and parked on a side street so no one would see them with two young girls. One of the men, the one I was with, Mr. Murray, went and bought a bottle of wine three of them, in fact. We drove out into the country and drank the wine. Irma got quite high (so did I) and she began begging the man she was with in the front seat "to do it" to her. That's the way she put it. Well, this old guy was tickled to death, you can bet on it. You should have heard these two middle-aged men laughing and carrying on the way they did. Boy, were they ever having fun, and I have to admit I liked them for it. I like to see people have fun and show you they like having fun with you. I mean with men, Joey. (I get my words turned around sometimes as I'm sure you must have noticed by now.)
Mr. Murray got pretty high himself. He had his arm about me and kept kissing me on the neck and trying to get lower down. I mean I knew he wanted to suck my titties, so I just pulled them out and told him to "suck away, daddy." Boy, you'd have thought I just handed him two million dollars. He became so excited that he tore my blouse yeah, I was wearing a lousy blouse, having nothing better to wear. My stepmother saw to it that I had nothing but dowdy clothing when I left for camp.
Well, he got one of my titties in his mouth and started to suck on it, and all the time he was breathing like a dog that's just run a mile on a hot day. He kept saying how wonderful I was, how hot I made him feel. Well, he kept on sucking that titty till I thought the fool thing would fall off in his mouth. I wanted some more action than just having my titties sucked, so I unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock and bending down, took it in my mouth and really went to work on it. The poor old guy nearly went crazy at this. I guess his wife never went down on him. Matter of fact, I doubt he'd ever been sucked off. That's the way he acted, so frantic and wild and hot and everything. Boy, did he fill my mouth in a hurry, too. I hadn't gone down on him more than half a dozen times when he exploded in me, while at the same time he was pulling my hair so hard it hurt like mad. I sucked him dry, but I wanted more from him, much more. However, I knew he was an old guy and would need some rest and time to recuperate, so I told him to open another bottle of wine and he did. We slouched down there in the back seat and drank wine and played with one another for an awful long while. After a time he became hard again and I told him to get on top of me and put the blocks to me but good. The old guy got very excited at hearing me put it this way. He kissed me all over my body I was half undressed by now and told me I was the most wonderful little girl he had ever known. He also told me if there was ever anything I wanted, any time, all I had to do was to call him at his office, very discreetly, of course, and he would see to it that I got what I wanted. He asked me if he could go out with me again before I returned home from the camp and I told him it all depended if Irma and I got away with sneaking out this time. I explained about the camp and told him how strict they were, and so on. He said he would see if he couldn't get someone to have a talk with the head counselor, whatever he meant by that.
Well, here I am, Joey, at the exciting part and I find I don't want to tell you too much about it. Guess I'm afraid you'll get mad at me. The old guy did get on top of me and fuck me. He took his sweet time about it and, boy, did I like that. You know something, Joey? Old guys aren't nearly as bad as everyone our age thinks they are. This Mr. Murray was awful nice to me. Of course I was being pretty nice to him, too, letting him screw me. After all, I'm only sixteen years old and he must be forty-five or so. All guys that age love to get their hands on girls my age. There's only one thing they like better getting their whangs into us. Well, he got on, like I said, and rammed his dink into me and pumped for at least a half hour. Boy, did I get hot and bothered before he was through. There's something about having a guy's stiff cock inside you for a long time that works a girl up something awful. I mean, especially an old guy. With an old guy you just know for sure that he's having the time of his life. He's comparing your young ass with that old stuff he's got at home and ... well, there just isn't any comparison and you know he knows it. You also know he'll be eternally grateful to you for letting him use his shaft in you. When a young girl lets an old guy do it to her and especially when she gets a kick out of it, same as he does, you know he's aware of it. This makes him feel awful good, makes him feel young and virile and ... well, just wonderful. An old guy will do anything or give anything to have this same experience again. Again and again and again, just as often as he can and as often as you'll agree to let him have it.
Finally, he blew in me after I'd had a couple of fine orgasms and then he just lay there on top of me, breathing very hard. I knew he was pretty much used up by now. After all I had sucked him off before and going off twice in a couple of hours is asking a lot from a forty-five-year-old guy. That is, I guess it is. He didn't tell me this. I'm just speculating about it, but going off twice seems like quite a bit for a man his age.
"Thank you, my dear girl," he said at length. "You're a beautiful little girl and if ever I can do anything for you, get in touch with me, dear."
"You're welcome, Mr. Murray," I told him. I bit my lips and tried to figure out if Irma and her old guy were through in the front seat. They were very quiet so I thought they must be. "Will you and Mr. Hart drive us back near the camp now? Irma and I have to get back before they discover we aren't there.
"Certainly, my dear. Sammy," Mr. Murray called to his friend in the front seat, "if you and Irma are finished we'd better take the girls back."
Well, Joey baby, you won't believe this probably, but they took us back to within a hundred yards or so of the camp and Irma and I ran quietly and quickly to our cabin and climbed into bed as fast as we could get undressed. The next morning I expected the head counselor to demand to know where we had been, but to my astonishment no one, appeared to have missed us. They knew nothing at all about Irma and me sneaking away the night before. Poor Irma was scared stiff all that day, but when evening came and no one had said anything to either of us, she relaxed. When we were alone in our cabin we giggled a lot and talked over the events of the night before. She had had just as much as I had, it appeared. She liked her Mr. Hart just as I had my Mr. Murray. Screwy deal, no?
How about it, Joey? Tell me something. Have you ever done it to an old woman? Write and tell me about it if you have. I'd like to watch you screw an old woman. I'll bet it would be a kick to see a boy do that. I wonder if old women are as hot about young guys as old men are about young girls. This Mr. Murray, I'm not positive, but I have the feeling that if I sucked him for the moon he'd try to get it for me. I have another feeling. I have a feeling that someday, maybe not too far off, I may need the help of Mr. Murray. My stepmother, she's up to something, sending me off to this stupid camp presumably for two weeks but more than-likely for the whole summer. I wonder what it is she is trying to do. Joey, would you call up my father and ask him how he feels. No, wait a minute. Don't do that. He'd think you were off your rocker. Just find out some way without him knowing if he is all right. That damned stepmother of mine. Wouldn't put it past her to poison him. Oh, I hate that bitch. Who knows, maybe that old bat sent me to camp just to get me out of the way so she could do her dirty business toward my dad. Don't laugh, Joey. That woman is capable of anything. Maybe she's having an affair with some bummy guy and was afraid I'd find out about it. There has to be some reason for her insisting to my dad that I be sent here for an indefinite period. I don't buy this bunk about the camp teaching me how to behave like a lady. Hell, Joey, you don't teach that crap to girls in a camp. You spread that bull over them in a private school where they are practically prisoners.
Well, never mind all that stuff. I do hope you'll see about my dad, though. I'm having funny feelings about him, for some crazy reason. I wish he would write to me, but I don't suppose he will. Not that he wouldn't like to. It's just that he is so busy, his life is not his own. I hope you never get that involved in business, Joey.
The only business I'd like to see you spend all your time in belongs to me my pussy. Pussy business, now there's a real business. It has only one type of customer to please. That customer has a long, red nose that gets very hard when excited.
Hey, Joey. You still haven't written and told me if you were going out with any girls. Who have you been out with? Anyone I know? Was she were they any good? I mean, did you sink your old shaft into her cunt and make her cream like you used to do to me. "Used to do?" Boy, what a sad phrase. Makes me feel like I'm never going to see you again. Why don't you swipe your dad's car and come up and see me? No ... I brought that up once before, didn't I? It wouldn't be any good. You'd get in trouble and they wouldn't let me out of the camp with you. No, it wouldn't work, Joey. Damn it! I get so mad sometimes being here with you at home I could ... I could bust someone on the nose.
Shit! Imagine me busting someone on the nose. Little old weak me. I couldn't hurt a fly, let alone bust someone on the nose.
Hey, I must close this now. They're ringing the bell for lunch. I'm in my cabin because I told them I had a bad headache. Otherwise, I'd be out swimming or boating or some such fool thing. Till later, baby. ...
I saw this guy Jules again, Joey. Boy, is he ever a big, handsome stud. He looked me over and grinned at me and I had the feeling he wanted to fuck on the spot, right in front of everybody. You know what? I think I'd have let him. I don't care anymore what the head counselor thinks or what she writes on her reports, or what she tells my stepmother. I know now, or at least I think I know, that she is telling my stepmother everything she knows about me. I catch the head broad looking at me every now and then, and brother! When she looks at you, she looks a hole through you. She's about the same type of bitch that my stepmother is neither one of them is two cents worth of female, if you know what I mean. They are some kind of sickening, half-male creatures who have the organs of females. Goddamn such women! I hate them! Wanting to compete with men. That type of bitch. Demanding equality all over the place. The silly asses. They've already got nine-tenths of everything. Why do they want to drop down to mere equality?
Hey, I'll bet I'm boring you with all this yapping.
I'll stop it.
Damn it, here comes Irma. I'll have to stop writing for a moment because I can see she is upset about something and I'll have to comfort her, I suppose. This poor kid ... I feel sorry for her.. .sometimes.
Well, it seems this Jules guy got Irma away from the camp and fucked her behind a bush. Oh, boy! No one even saw them. Wish it could have been me instead of her. No, I don't mean that, Joey. Cool off now. Don't get all mad and everything. I didn't mean that remark. It's just that I miss you so much, miss that long hard prong of yours, I sometimes wonder if I'll ever have the chance to get you between my legs again. It seems like years since the last time you spooked me. I don't mean spook in the regular sense of the word. I mean it as being good, baby Oh, how I wish I could have you on top of me this very minute.
I was telling you about Irma. Well, she burst into the cabin looking scared to death.
"What's the trouble, Irma?" I asked. I was lying on the bed writing this letter to you, Joey, as you know. "You look white as a sheet."
"I think one of the counselors saw me."
"Saw you what?" I asked. (Remember, I'm starting at the beginning, Joey, and at this point I didn't know Jules had taken her into the woods.)
She began to cry and threw herself down on my bed, not her own. I moved over a bit, not wanting her to get tears on your letter I mean my letter to you. "This Jules guy," she mumbled. "I let him take me into the woods."
My heart picked up a few beats. "You did. Honestly?"
"Yes. I went to the woods with him and he got me down on the ground, pulled my panties down and stuck his rock-like thing into me before I could tell him not to."
Well, Joey baby, I knew this was just so much malarkey. Irma wanted him to fuck her. I know her by now. She's almost as hot as I am, most of the time. "What makes you think someone saw you?" I asked.
"That Miss Horton. You know how she is. She saw us coming out of the woods together and you should have seen the funny look on her face. I know she'll go and tell the head counselor. Boy, am I going to get it."
I laughed.
Irma stopped her silly crying long enough to look at me sharply. "What's so funny?" she wanted to know.
"Miss Horton won't tell the head counselor, Irma. Miss Horton has been laying Jules right along, whenever she gets the chance, that is. That's why she had a funny look on her face. Miss Horton was jealous and mad probably, but you can just about bet on it, she won't tell the head."
"You mean she's afraid the head will find out about her and Jules?"
"Sure. Miss Horton will be keeping a close watch on you from now on but not because she is a counselor. She'll be doing it because she probably wants Jules all for herself."
Irma had now stopped crying altogether. "Boy, Edy, I don't know what I'd do without you. You always seem able to straighten me out."
"Yeah, Big deal," I said, not without bitterness. "Big me. You get laid by Jules and I'm around to straighten you out afterwards. Nuts."
Irma blinked her eyelids. "Hey," she said. "Do you like Jules or something?"
"Sure I like him. I mean, he's a big guy, isn't he? I don't care for him, if that's what you mean, but I'd like to be laid by him."
"Gee, you're not jealous, too, are you, Edy?"
"Nope. I've got a boyfriend at home. His name is Joey."
"Sure I know you have Joey at home, but how about up here? All you've got here is me." Irma giggled when she said this.
I laughed. "Yeah, I've got you and Mr. Murray and Jules and. ... "
Irma was running her hand up my leg. "Edy," she said softly. "Let's have sex ... you and me. Want to?"
"Nope. I'm writing a letter to my boyfriend."
"Please ... this guy, Jules, didn't satisfy me."
Well, Joey, you wouldn't believe the passion of that girl. My God, she was all over me in a flash. Her mouth was seeking out my pussy, my titties, my everything. She even kissed my ass-hole, though I don't know what pleasure there is in that. Some people might like it, not me. But the big deal that I have to tell you, Joey, is not how hot Irma became, but the fact that Jules walked into the cabin and caught her sticking her tongue up my box. Honest to Pete, Joey baby, I was actually so embarrassed I wanted to die. Didn't seem to bother Irma any. She stopped just long enough to see Jules in the cabin and then tried to go down on me some more. I told her to quit it and gave her a push.
"Why don't you let her suck your box, Edy?" Jules asked in that deep voice of his. "While she's sucking you, you can take my cock in your mouth and make me flow. How does that strike you, honey?"
Honest, Joey, before I could move he was on the cot with Irma and me and had his prick out of his pants. I'll tell you what happened in my next letter. Ain't I mean, baby? Write to me.
Love, Edy
CHAPTER 6
Dear Edy:
Seems to me you're having a hell of a wild time up there at that awful dumb camp you keep referring to. You keep saying, "Now, Joey, don't get mad at me for telling you about how I laid this guy the other night" and all that stuff. Why shouldn't I get mad? You're supposed to be my girl, but all I read in your letters is how you went out with some old man or else your roommate is doing sex things to you or else some farmer named Jules is hanging around the place. I thought that camp was supposed to be a strict and terrible place. That's what you said. But how can it be a strict and terrible place and still allow you to have so much sex? Me, I don't like it. You asked if I had ever been out with older women. Okay, I'll tell you baby. I'm going out with one right now. Ever since you have been at camp I've been going out with her. She has me over to her house every night and we fuck and suck and drink and have a wild old time, all of the time. How do you like this, Edy, baby? How do you like hearing that I'm going out with a female all the time?
She's not the only one, either. I've been going out with some pretty hot girls, too, when I can find the time for them, that is.
I don't know anything about your dad. Besides, why should I be looking after him? He's your father, not mine. If you'll spend less time screwing and sucking and more on writing to him, maybe your dad will get in touch with you and tell you how he is. As for your stepmother, well, I don't like her very much, either, but I get sick of hearing you call her an old bitch all the time. You aren't the only person in the world who has trouble getting along with parents, you know, but to hear you talk, you are. That's about all I have to say now ... because I have a date with this nice, older woman, the woman who has me over to her house every night. See you later, kid. Hope you like it okay at your goddamned Girl Scout camp. Good place for little kids, I hear.
Take it cool, Joey
Edy read the words with tears in her eyes. How could Joey write such a mean, nasty letter to her? It was extremely obvious that he was very angry with her. She didn't believe what he had said about being with the older woman every night. This was a bit too thick. Joey was merely trying to make her jealous. She smiled slightly when she read the letter for the second time. The words were so unlike Joey, for he wasn't really the jealous, resentful type. Maybe she had laid it on a bit heavy in telling him about Irma and Mr. Murray and, of course, Jules. Well, she would write what she wanted to write and if Joey couldn't accept her for what she was ... then he'd have to learn to do it. She waited for perhaps an hour and then she took out paper and pen and wrote him another letter.
Camp Deerwood July 14
Dear Joey:
Received your wonderful letter and must say I was surprised at how angry you appear to be, you poor thing. However, I'm happy to find out you are having such a wonderful time crawling in bed with some old woman. No doubt she gives you money for your services, eh? If so, how much? Don't do it to her, Joey, boy, for less than two dollars. You're worth at least four. I should know.
All my love, Edy
Dear Edy:
How would you like to take a flying suck at my ass?
Joey
Camp Deerwood July 18
Dear Joey:
I'm surprised at you writing me such a mean and short letter. I thought you loved me. I guess you only love me when I'm close at hand so you can stick it in, eh? When I'm not there you hate my guts. Right? Really, Joey, you sound just like a little boy, all mad and hurt about nothing at all. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, telling me to take a flying suck at your ass. How vulgar can you get? I'm quite angry at you, Joey, and if I were you, I'd sit down and write a nice letter to your girl and maybe even apologize to her for being such a boor. Do I make myself clear?
Edy
Dear Edy:
I'm sorry I got so mad at you. I shouldn't have written that one sentence letter to you and told you to ... well, you know what. I really like you, baby, and wish you could come back to town soon. How much longer are you going to stay at that stupid camp? Please let me know. Your father, I found out, has been slightly ill at home, but it is nothing very serious. Your stepmother told me. I went there and asked her. She treated me pretty good. I mean she didn't act mean to me or anything. Maybe you just don't like her because she married your father, Edy. Have you thought about that? I'm telling you the truth. I used to think she was just as mean as you always said she was, but when I went there, as I just said, she was very nice to me. Even gave me a bottle of beer. Well, it's late and I'm tired. Am going fishing tomorrow with another guy and have to get up early. I'll say good-bye now and please don't stay mad at me, Edy. I love you. Honest I do.
Joey
Edy put the latest letter from Joey away in a box where she kept her correspondence and walked slowly to her cot. Being at this camp was a lot like being in a prison, she imagined. There was never anything exciting or interesting to do. Who wanted to go swimming for eight hours a day, or bird-watching for four hours, or fishing, or hiking? Nuts to all of that crummy stuff. Edy knew what she wanted to do and it didn't include any of these aforementioned amusements.
"Anyway," she murmured. "It's nice that Joey isn't mad at me any longer." She was puzzled, however, at his statement that her stepmother had been nice to him. Edy knew very well that Joey despised her stepmother, though he hadn't been around her very often. Edy had always felt that Joey despised her stepmother because she herself did so. Oh well, it was no great matter. Her stepmother was a louse and that was that. If somehow or other she had melted her icy heart long enough to give
Joey a bottle of beer, it would have to be regarded as one of those astounding happenings that take place in everyone's life. Edy knew perfectly well that her stepmother wouldn't repeat the act of kindness in a hundred years. Kindness and consideration were foreign to Edy's stepmother.
Irma entered the cabin a moment later and surprised Edy by asking her if she thought they could get away from the camp again and go to see Mr. Hart and Mr. Murray. The girls had obtained phone numbers to call in case they wanted to see the men again. The phone numbers weren't those assigned to the men's homes.
"I don't know," Edy replied to her question. "I mean I don't know if we could swing it again. Let's face it, Irma. We were very lucky that first time. Next time we're bound to get caught."
"Just the same, Edy, I want to take the chance. I got hot pants something awful. I swear I can almost feel old Mr. Hart's prick inside of me." Irma giggled like a twelve-year-old.
Edy smiled. "I know what you mean. My Mr. Murray was pretty darned good, too. I was really surprised. I had always thought middle-aged men were no good, that they got only partway hard and all that."
Irma giggled again. "We found out differently, didn't we, Edy? Boy, that Mr. Hart. . . he's as hard as a rock. Harder than a rock. It hurt me when he put it in ... but it hurt good," she added. She came over to Edy's cot and ran her hand up Edy's leg, and because Edy was wearing no panties, she inserted two fingers and began to finger-fuck her.
Edy sighed while her body jerked with pleasure from the two-fingered caress. She could have had an orgasm if Irma had kept on with it, but the other girl withdrew her fingers and began to lick them.
"Mmmmm, I'm so hot," Irma murmured. "I could ... do anything. Anything at all. You name it, I'll do it. That's the way I feel, Edy."
Edy was hot, also, now that she had felt the fingers in her box. It required very little to set Edy up. "I'll tell you what," she said. "I'm willing to try to leave camp tonight if you are."
"I'm game," Irma said quickly, her eyes hot and lustful.
"We have to get word to either Mr. Murray or Mr. Hart so they can pick us up outside the camp. How are we going to do that."
"I could ask Jules to do it for us."
Edy raised her brows in surprise. "Really? Have you got that much influence over him?"
"I don't know, but I can try. Provided, of course, that he is working in the camp today."
"All right. He might squeal on us or blackmail us into submitting to him later for keeping quiet about it. . . but ... " Here Edy smiled. ". . . what's so terrible about being blackmailed? Go and look for him. Tell him to call Mr. Hart where you were told to call. . . have Jules tell Mr. Hart to pick us up at the same place on the road he they did before. Hurry now. Go and look for Jules. I've got a letter to write."
Camp Deerwood
Dear Joey:
This is going to be a very short letter, baby. I just want to tell you I think you are very, very sweet. It was sweet of you to write that nice letter to me telling me you were sorry. I'll write more later, darling. I'll have more to tell you then. 'Bye for now.
All my love, Edy
P.S. I decided not to mail that short letter without adding to it. Now that I have something to say, I'll put it down. Please, Joey, don't let yourself get all mad and everything again. You wanted me to tell you the truth about what I do while I'm away from you, so that's exactly what I'm going to do. Tell you the truth. Remember ... I love you ... and you alone. Nobody else.
Well, Irma got the hots today and wanted us to sneak away from the camp again and meet up with these two middle-aged men I told you about. She got a message through to them and they were more than happy to pick us up about a mile from the camp after dark. We had no trouble in sneaking away at all. We sort of had a partner in the scheme this time the guy named Jules. He-likes us. You know why, of course. He's going to ride both of us every chance he gets from now on just for helping us and for keeping his mouth shut about our escapade. Okay. Fair enough. He may not get as much as he thinks. Irma and I just may ... say a few words about him and Miss Horton, just sort of spread a rumor about the camp. That'll fix him. Of course we won't do this if he acts halfway decent toward us from now on. We'll only spread the rumor it's not just a rumor by the way, but the real truth only if he gets too all-powerful in his demands on us. You know how men are when they think they have a woman, or in this case, two women, eating out of their hands. Oops! I made a mistake in saying that to you, Joey. After all, you're a man. Well, you will be in another year or so. You see how much confidence I have in you, honey? I tell you just everything without even thinking.
So ... what happened? You want to know!
Well, we got out of the camp and by going through the woods as we did the first time, we came out onto the highway and a few minutes later we saw the headlights of a car approaching, so we ducked off the road until the car was nearby and when I saw whose car it was, I let out a holler and so did Irma. It was Mr. Murray and Mr. Hart and, boy, were they glad to see us.
I climbed into the back seat with Mr. Murray and right away he kissed me passionately and ran his hand underneath my skirt. Pulling my panties down, he stuck his forefinger in my twat and began to finger me off. Boy, I became so hot I nearly exploded then and there. I spread my legs and lay back on the seat.
"Oh, Mr. Murray!" I cried, begging him. "Please kiss me off. Please?"
Mr. Murray was absolutely delighted. It was dark in the car, but I could tell from his tone of voice. "Oh, my dear young lady, how wonderful a creature you are. You cause me to positively break out with passion. I should be most grateful for the opportunity of kissing you off."
How about that, Joey baby? He'd be most grateful for the opportunity of kissing me off. I thought I was the one who should be grateful, but here he was saying he was grateful. The next thing I knew he had gotten down on the floor of the car, had lifted my legs, after removing my panties, of course, and placed them over his shoulders, his head between them. I joined my ankles behind his head and lay back on the seat and waited for his first whiskered touch of me.
Boy, when I did feel his beard, his whiskers, call 'em what you want to, touching my flesh between my legs, I let out a moan that caused Mr. Hart in the front seat with Irma to inquire if something was wrong. I didn't answer him and neither did Mr. Murray because he was now licking my cunt and smacking his lips and breathing quickly and pressing my hand against his cock, which he had taken from his pants. Brother, was he hard and wet.
Oh ... daddy....
The way that old man kissed my cunt was really something else. You'd have thought he hadn't kissed one in twenty years and for all I know he might not have. I get the feeling from him that his wife is a cold, old piece of pork fat, if you know what I mean. What is worse to eat than a cold, old piece of pork fat? Anyway ... he licked my box, he kissed it, he ran his tongue up and down it, he darted his tongue into it, he made little circling and sucking movements with his tongue on my button and, boy, did I have an orgasm and a half. Wow, Joey, it was tremendous. I'm going to try to remember, if I can, just how he did it and teach you to do it the same way, not that you need to be taught anything about sex, Joey honey, but only that Mr. Murray's way of cunt kissing is so crazy good.
Just thinking about it now as I write these words makes me want to cream in my pajamas.
You should have heard old Irma in the front seat. Boy, was she moaning and murmuring words like I never heard before. She was saying things like, "Make me cremate, make me expostulate, make me vivulate. I'm a hot pile of female cunt tissue and I need to be blown."
If I hadn't been so hot, myself, Joey, I would have laughed my ass off at those crazy words of hers. Mr. Hart was fucking her. I knew that much. He wasn't kissing her off the way my Mr. Murray was doing to me. Well, about the time I had my second orgasm, my Mr. Murray let out a cry that sounded like a strange bear or something and stopped kissing my cunt. He raised up and threw himself on top of me heavily and I felt his big hard cock shoot into me. Boy, did he fill my body. He filled it deep and wonderful. Then he pulled it out and when he did, his cock rubbed my button and I cried out. Immediately, he rammed it back into me, again rubbing my button. I cried out again and from that point on I don't know what happened it was all so hectic and wild and wonderful that even now I'm all hot and bothered from thinking about it. Think I'll stop for a while and play with my bunny, Joey
Well, I did it, Joey. I masturbated, using two fingers and had a fine time too; fine for a masturbation job, that is. I never have gone in for that sort of thing, much preferring to save my passion until the real thing is ready to enter my body.
like your prick, Joey baby. Oh, I wish you were here now.
But let me get back to telling you what happened in that parked car. After Mr. Murray had kissed me off, fucked me, filling me with his paste, we all sat there and talked and drank wine. We drank a lot of wine, too. Several bottles. I was getting pretty high and Irma was in the clouds. She was so much in the clouds that she suggested we swap partners. This kind of scared me a little but the men were all for it. Before I could say much, Mr. Murray was in the front with Irma and Mr. Hart, to whom I had not paid a great deal of attention, was in the back. He started right in kissing my legs and running his tongue up and down my thighs, moaning and groaning something awful.
"Mr. Hart," I said, moaning a little, for he was making me very hot, "why don't you let me suck you?"
You would have thought I had offered him his life. "You mean it?" he asked. "You really will suck me?"
"Yes," I said. "Stick it in my mouth and come, please. I want to swallow your come." I wanted to see how hot I could make him. The truth was I was just a little mad at Irma for suggesting the swapping of partners. I had always thought of myself as being the senior partner when it came to things happening with the two of us, and here she was acting as if I needed to be led. So ... I thought I'd make Mr. Hart just twice as hot for me as he had been with her. That ought to show her something or other.
Yeah, I know. This sounds catty and just like a female ... but Joey, baby, that's what I am a female, which means I have my catty moments as much as any other female does.
This Mr. Hart was so excited by my offer that, by the way he was moaning and spitting up and all, I was afraid he might have a heart attack or something, but he didn't. He just pulled down his pants, straddled me and stuffed his prick between my lips. Wow!
Was he ever wet and hard and hot!
I could hear Irma and Mr. Murray going at it in the front seat but didn't pay much attention to them. I had what I wanted now. I had Irma's guy's cock in my mouth. Boy, did I ever suck that prick of his. I really gave him a working over, Joey, baby, just like I used to do to you sometimes, you remember?
Hey, Joey, do you remember the first time I sucked you off?
Do you?
It was in your old beat-up car and we were parked near the football field. The game was over and almost everyone had gone home except you and me. Remember how we waited until they shut the lights off in the stadium and then when it was dark and we were sure no one was around you asked me how I would like to try something. I asked you what it was you wanted me to try and you told me you wanted to be kissed off. Boy, I can still remember how hot that made me. I can remember how much you came in my mouth, too. It was all I could do to swallow all of that stuff.
It was the same way last night with Mr. Hart. Boy, did he blow a lot of paste into my mouth. He kept on blowing and blowing while I swallowed as fast as I could. I didn't quite make it. Some of it drooled down my chin and onto my blouse. I had to wash the fool blouse out during the night and in the dark, too. If one of the counselors happened to see the thick-crusted spot on it, they might get wise to what I had been doing. I know that every woman who is experienced knows what male crust looks like on clothing. I heard my stepmother tell that to my father one time.
Hey, Joey ... Irma just came into the cabin and she looks sick. I'll have to knock off for now. Bye, baby
Love, Edy
CHAPTER 7
Dear Edy:
I must say you are a most ungrateful girl and I'm extremely angry with you. Why haven't you written to me and your father telling us how you are enjoying the lovely camp vacation we arranged for you? I must say you are provoking me to the utmost of my capacity to retain my good nature. I have seen the boy Joey and he tells me you write regularly to him. Why then have you written regularly to him? Why haven't you done so to your father and me?
I demand that you write to us and that you do so immediately upon receipt of this letter. Do you understand, girl? I hope for your sake that you do. Your poor father hasn't been feeling well and it distresses him terribly to discover he has such an inconsiderate daughter. Now then, young lady. You will sit down and write to us and do it well, for your father's sake, or I'll make it my business to know why you haven't.
Your loving mother, Verna Dorn
Camp Deerwood July 18
Dear Verna:
I'm sorry my father is ill. I hope you take good care of him. Please tell him if he will write to me just a few lines I'll be glad to write back to him. I would like to come home and this is why I am writing this to you. Please see to it that I am released, and I think released is the correct word to use, from the camp immediately. I am sick and tired of staying here. If you do not arrange for me to come home, I will have my father do it for you.
Edy
Edy read the letter she had just written to her stepmother and frowning, licked the envelope and sealed it. She took it to the mailbox that hung from a post at the center of the camp and left it. She then returned to her cabin just in time to see Jules walking away from it. She watched him for a few moments, but when the big man disappeared behind a clump of bushes, she entered the cabin and lay down on her cot. Irma was lying on her cot and when Edy entered she looked away quickly.
"Something bothering you, Irma?" Edy asked without looking at her roommate.
"It's Jules. He insists on my meeting him in the woods tonight after lights-out."
"I saw him leaving when I entered. What did he do threaten to tell on you if you didn't meet him?"
"Yes. I told him I was sick. He said that was okay. If I was too sick to meet him you'd have to."
Edy felt a chill pass up and down her back. "All right," she said nevertheless. "I'll meet him. Did he say whereabouts in the woods?"
"He said to walk straight out of the camp and he'd be watching for me or you."
"And you want me to go? Right?"
"I wish you would. I feel lousy, Edy."
"Okay, we have to pay our debts, Irma, and we owe Jules one."
"Fuck him good, Edy," Irma whispered.
"What did you say?" Edy was almost shocked at hearing such a remark from Irma. After all, Irma was the girl who had complained about Edy saying the word "damn" one time, about three weeks before.
"I said, fuck him good, Edy. Fuck the cock off him. That's what I'd do if I didn't feel so bad."
"By the way, what makes you feel bad? Are you really ill?"
"Sick to my stomach, I guess."
"Something you ate?"
"Yeah. Mr. Murray's prick last night."
Edy laughed. "I did a bit of prick-eating myself. Didn't make me ill."
"Maybe you're used to it. I'm not."
Edy laughed again. "You'll get used to it if you hang around with me, Irma."
Irma ran from her cot to Edy's and lay down beside her and whispered, "Isn't it exciting to go down on a man, Edy?"
Edy smiled and patted Irma on the butt. "I think it is. I'm glad you think so, too."
"I never did that before, Edy. Do you believe that?"
Edy patted her on the butt again. "Sure. Why not. There always has to be a first time for everything."
"Had you ever sucked off a man before?"
Edy blinked. "Sure. Quite a few times. Why?"
"I was just wondering. You've had a lot of experience with men and boys, haven't you?"
"With boys, not much with men."
"Do you think Mr. Murray and Mr. Hart have big ones?"
"I think so. Mr. Murray especially. Mr. Hart is very passionate, though, and knows how to use his very well."
"Gee, I like those old men. They're so nice to us, so considerate of us and everything. They're not nearly as selfish as boys, do you think?"
"Some boys are very selfish. A few aren't."
"I wonder what it's like to be married and have to fuck with the same man for years and years."
"You've got me there. How would I know? I'm only sixteen, too, you know."
"Are you excited about meeting Jules in the woods after dark."
"Sort of."
"Gee, you have a lot of nerve, Edy. That Jules, he kind of scares me. The way he looks at me sometimes well, it just scares me."
"He's okay, I think. Just a big slob of a farmer. He won't hurt anybody unless, of course, you refuse to spread for him."
"That's what I'm talking about. What would he do to a girl if she didn't feel like fucking him?"
"I don't know. Why bother to find out? He's good. Why not just screw him instead of fighting him off, refusing him, whatever."
"Don't you ever get mad if you get the feeling a man or boy is using your body to satisfy his lust?"
Edy laughed. "Of course not. I'm using his body to satisfy mine."
"Do you really do that, Edy?" Irma's brown eyes were very large.
"Of course I do, and so do you. Didn't you use both Mr. Hart and Mr. Murray to satisfy your lust last night?"
"Yeah ... I guess I did. Kind of."
Edy spread her hands. "Well then ... what's the beef about Jules?"
"I don't know. I just don't like him trying to force us to let him do it to us so soon."
"Did you expect him to wait until our parents had sent for us to come home?"
Irma giggled. "That would have been a dirty trick to play on Jules, wouldn't it?"
"Jules has to take it when it's available, baby, and that's right now. Tomorrow, as far as he knows, we might be gone from the camp." t "I guess you're right, Edy, but then you always are."
"Hardly that," Edy replied, laughing and knocking her long, blonde hair away from her eyes. "I wish I were, though. It must be nice to be right all the time. My stepmother thinks she's right all the time, but that's not what I mean. I mean to be really right all the time, or at least most of the time."
"Do you suppose," Irma said, changing the subject abruptly, "that both of us could go into the woods and do ... a ... a ... well, you know what I mean ... with Jules?"
"You mean do a triple deal with him. A three-way fuck?"
Irma averted her eyes. "You must think I'm awful for suggesting that."
"Gee, no. I think it's a great idea. Who does what to whom?"
"Oh, I'd leave that up to you and Jules."
"Thought you said you were ill."
"I er was ... but I kind of got over it. You see. ... "
"Okay," Edy said good-naturedly. "Come along if you want to."
It was dark now and the camp was quiet as it usually was after dark. Camp Deerwood had all the nighttime activity of a deserted church, Edy had discovered, not to her displeasure. It made it easier to sneak out of the camp when the others were not sitting around a campfire singing dumb songs and giggling. The two girls reached the edge of the woods and even though it was a moonlit night they couldn't see too well. Certainly they could see no sign of Jules. They waited on the spot for perhaps five minutes before Edy suggested they move along the edge of the woods, should Jules be looking for them at another location. Edy hardly thought this would be the case because she had taken note of the fact that Jules quite often frequented this particular spot. It was the same place she had seen him fooling around with Miss Horton. She had also seen him standing here during the daytime watching some of the young girls. Jules was a cocksman, no doubt about it. It might be that she, Edy, had been missing out on a good bet by not pursuing him more. She had fucked with him the one time and then had almost forgotten about him.
Irma grabbed her arm and uttered a low cry of fright, or at least it sounded that way to Edy. "There," Irma said. "I saw ... something . . .moving."
"Only a small wild animal, Irma. Let go of my arm. My God, you squeeze hard, kiddo."
"Gee, Edy, I'm scared out here in the dark."
"It isn't the first time we've been in the woods in the dark. Why be scared?"
"I don't know. I don't think Jules is here. I have a feeling he isn't."
"We'll walk about a little more and then if we don't see him we'll go back to the camp."
"All right." Again Irma clutched Edy's arm fiercely.
"Let go of my arm, damn it," Edy said firmly.
"Don't swear at me, Edy ... please?"
"My God, are we back on that don't swear kick again. What's the matter with you?"
"I told you I was sick."
"Then go on back to the cabin and I'll wait for Jules."
"I guess I will. You won't be mad, will you, Edy?"
"No. Go on. Run back to the cabin. Don't let anyone see you."
Without another word, Irma turned and ran back toward the camp while Edy watched her with difficulty until she disappeared from view. Edy turned her face away from the lights of the camp and tried to look into the woods for some evidence of the big guy, Jules. She walked slowly into the woods and had gone about twenty yards when she was frightened almost out of her wits by rough hands grabbing her and throwing her to the ground. She sensed that it was Jules, though she couldn't see him.
"Jules," she said, "it's me Edy. Take it cool, man. You're hurting me."
There was a brief silence broken only by the sound of the man's breathing. "Okay, kid," the man said and it was Jules' voice.
Edy felt her scalp tingling. "Hey, do you always treat your girls this rough?"
He ignored her question. "So you came instead of Irma. Well, no matter. You'll do just as good."
Edy was slightly irked by this, but she mentally shrugged it away and told herself that she had come to the woods to be fucked, so what difference did it make what he said to her? A screw was a screw, even in the woods at night. "Get on top of me," she whispered.
He laughed. "You don't have to whisper. Nothing here to hear us but a few deer or a bear."
"A bear!" she cried. "I'm afraid of wild animals, big ones."
He chuckled this time. "You're afraid of big ones, kid? That's what you're going to get. A big one rammed up your tight, little cunt. Pull down your pants. I got a hot, hard cock for you, baby."
Edy felt her scalp tingling again as she did what he had requested. Her pants off, she held them in her hand so she wouldn't lose them in the dark. She parted her legs and big Jules got on top of her and stabbed at her with his rock-hard prick. It slipped into her and she cried out from the pain of it.
"Shut up," he told her. "You can talk to me but don't yelp like that. You'd be surprised how far sound travels at night."
Edy stopped "yelping," though she hadn't thought her cry was by any means all that loud. When a girl is flat on her back with a large, satisfying prick buried in her cunt, working in and out and rubbing her sensitive spots, she doesn't argue with the man on top of her. That is no time to argue and fight it's a time to submit and love. The cock that was in her filled her inner body completely and reached far into her in a most gratifying way. Edy lost no time in becoming aroused to the point of having a breathless orgasm. She clawed at the big man's back and tried to pump her loins upward to meet his down-rushing body, but he was much too heavy and powerful for her to budge. All she could do was to lie there and enjoy it to the fullest. Jules fucked her savagely and when it came time for him to go off, he literally exploded in her cunt, filling her crevice with thick, sticky sap.
Camp Deerwood July 24
Dear Joey:
Boy, am I ever bored with this dumb camp. There's absolutely nothing happening here at all. I've been here for nearly four weeks and it looks like my stupid old stepmother intends to keep me here till school starts in September. Damn her! By the way, Joey, how is my dad? Did he get over the illness? If you should see him will you tell him to write to me. There's no use in my writing to him my stepmother would intercept the letter and not let him see it, if I said one word about anything at all, about how I disliked this camp, how I hated her, or anything else. My dad would never see the letter unless I was goofy enough to lie and tell him what a fine, wonderful time I'm having at Camp Deerwood.
Joey, how are you getting along? Have you been out with a lot of girls? I'll bet you have. Are any of them as good as I am? Come on now. Tell me the truth. You don't write very hot letters, did you know that? I wish you would. Gee, I'd like to read a hot letter from you, full of love and sex talk and everything like that. That's all I can write today. I'll write again when I hear from you.
All my love, Edy
Four days later she received the following letter from Joey:
Dear Edy:
Well, you wanted me to write a hot letter to you, so here goes, baby. How's your old twat? Does it miss my probing prick very much or are you getting all the cock you need from other guys? I guess you probably are. Probably you're getting it all the time. I noticed you didn't mention anything about getting screwed in your last letter like you did in most of your other ones. That's okay with me. You see, I'm getting more than I can handle myself. I've been laying this older broad and,, man, is she ever one hot bitch. She sucks me off constantly and begs me to squirt more down her throat. So, being me, I do so. This broad has a husband, so I have to be careful about when I fuck her and so on. She's kind of a nice old bitch, and by this I mean she gives me lots of spending money just to keep her hole filled with cock. I've half a notion to go into the stud business. Man, what a terrific way to make money. I suppose some of the broads you'd have to lay would be pretty sad you'd have to cover their heads with a bag before you could get a hard-on, or something.
Hey, what's happened to your friend Irma? You haven't said too much about her lately. Is she still going down on you when you're alone in the cabin with her?
Well, that's about all I have to say right now, baby. I got to go see my old broad and give her a good working over. Wish you were here. I might give you a piece, too, when I have the time. 'Bye now.
Joey
Edy slammed the letter down on the cot and doubled up her fists in anger. "Why that bastard," she muttered. "Who does he think he is, telling me if I were there he might give me a piece if he had the time?"
Irma had been taking a nap, but now she heard Edy and sat up on her cot and blinked her eyes. "Is something wrong, Edy?"
Edy directed her blazing gaze at Irma. "That sonofabitch," she said. "Come here, Irma. I want to kiss your cunt." Somehow this seemed to be getting back at Joey for his rude remarks.
Irma troted over to Edy's cot and lay down beside her. "Oh, good," she murmured. "I'm kind of hot right now. Maybe I'd better lock the cabin door first, huh?"
"Hell with it," Edy said. "If I want to kiss your puss, I will."
"Wait. I want to lock the door. I'm afraid some snooping counselor might come around and peek in and see us."
Edy threw up her hands. "Lock the door or don't lock it, I don't care. Anyway ... I've lost my desire to kiss your "pussy. Go back and lie on your own bed, will you?" Her tone was extremely cross and she knew it, but she couldn't help speaking in this manner. Joey had hurt her feelings badly.
"What is wrong, Edy? Did I do something to make you mad at me?"
Edy took a deep breath and finally gained some semblance of control over her emotions. "I'm sorry, Irma. This letter from my boyfriend. It made me angry. What he said upset me and I'm taking it out on you. Please forgive me. You're a nice kid and I ought to be ashamed of myself."
Irma, who had started to climb off Edy's cot, lay back down. "You're nice, too, Edy. You're the nicest person in the whole world."
She sounded so much like a small but sexy child, that Edy felt a wave of weird passion spreading over her. Reaching down, she poked her finger in the general direction of Irma's cunt. Irma evidently saw it coming and flipped up her dress. She was wearing no panties and Edy's finger accidentally entered her box.
"Oh," Irma sighed. "That feels so ... good ... Edy. Fingerfuck me, please. Fingerfuck me off ... honey girl."
CHAPTER 8
Camp Deerwood July 28
Dear Big Shot Joey Boy:
Thanks for your stinker of a letter, buster. As for Irma (you asked about her, remember?), I just got through going down on her. I liked it, too. She's more fun than you ever were, Joey, baby. At least, she's a real human being and not a goddamned phony jerk bragging about his conquest of some dirty old broad who pays him for his dinky little screw job, you sonofabitch. Do you know something? I'm glad I came to this lousy camp. It gave me the chance to get away from you and your jerky ways and to meet at least two or three other people. I like these other people, too. They're real people, not underpaid pimps. How could you have written me such a nasty letter, Joey Brown? It was the most horrible thing I have ever read. Who is this dirty old broad you've been laying for handouts? Why didn't you tell me her name, big shot? Were you afraid to? Were you afraid I might tell her sometime how you used to fuck me for nothing? You'll note I emphasized the words "used to." That's quite natural because you'll never have me again, you phony ass-hole. I hate your lousy guts. There's only one person, at the moment, that I hate as much as I do you that's my stepmother. You two would make a good pair. Say, buster boy, there's an idea for you. Why not sell your so-called stud services to her? She'd be just lousy enough to buy you for peanuts, but then, you can't expect to get more than peanuts out of your feeble endeavors, can you?
I'll see you, jerk, Edy
Dear Edy Big Mouth:
I just read your dumb letter. What the hell is eating you, or should I say who is eating you? You sound like one of those stupid dyke bitches that hate a guy just because he happens to be a guy. Why don't you join the Woman's Freedom Movement? Man, would those awful-looking broads welcome someone like you, with open arms and legs as well. You'd fit in with those stupid female excuse me, non-female asses perfectly. You say you have never read such a horrible thing as my letter, or at least you made some such stupid remark. I threw the letter in the garbage, so I can't check it to make sure what you were screaming about. Well, listen, baby. The one you wrote to me was even more horrible. I never knew you could be such a dumb broad. You have been writing to me for a month telling me about all of your many conquests and begging me not to get mad, but the moment I tell you I have a broad on the string you blow up and call me the worst names you can think of. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. You're the one who's been doing all the screwing and sucking and playing around, not me. I'll tell you what you can do. You can write and beg my forgiveness or you can go straight to hell and boil in dyke oil. Take your choice, big mouth.
Joey
Camp Deerwood August 2
Dear Joey:
I'm so terribly sorry for having written you that foul letter. I don't know what came over me. Maybe I'm just a big mouth like you say and don't deserve anything nice from anyone, but I think what has happened is that I can't stand it at this camp any longer. It is now the second day of August, which means I have been here five weeks, or almost so, and it is driving me nuts. I have written to my father asking him to let me come home, but he hasn't replied, though enough time has elapsed for him to have done so. Maybe he doesn't want me to come home, ever. Will you please, Joey, ask him for me? Ask him if I can come home. Even with my stepmother in the house I'd rather be home so I can see you every day than be here. The counselors say this camp stays open till Labor Day. Joey darling, I'll be dead before Labor Day arrives, honest I will. I can't stay here for another month.
I'm terribly sorry I became so upset and said what I did about you and my stepmother getting together. You're far too good for anyone like her, Joey. I don't know why I said that to you. I guess, as I've already said, it's because of this camp, of my being stuck here for what seems like forty years. Please, I want to apologize to you and, yes, ask your forgiveness. Please, Joey, please write to me and tell me that you forgive me.
All my love, Edy
Jules came to the cabin and told Edy and Irma that Mr. Murray and Mr. Hart wanted to see the girls that night. Jules said he would see to it that the girls got to the road safely as well as out of the camp without anyone seeing them. Irma instantly agreed and Edy, though she was somewhat hesitant about going now that she felt repentant toward Joey, did so, also, though she took her time in thinking it over. Jules eyed her strangely and left the cabin, though he hadn't actually been inside, but only at the door.
Irma turned to Edy. "What's the matter, Edy. You didn't act as if you wanted to go out and have a good time with the men. Don't you feel good?"
"I'm okay," Edy said. "It's just that for once in my life I'm not very hot-blooded at the moment."
"Want me to play with you and get you going, huh?" Irma's brown eyes peered into hers lustfully.
"No thanks, Irma. I'll be okay later on, I suppose."
"Have you been fighting with Joey again?"
"Somewhat. I shot off my mouth to him and made a fool of myself."
Irma nodded sympathetically. "I know how you feel. That's always been my hang up, shooting off my mouth and saying the wrong thing." She eyed Edy lustfully again. "Sure you wouldn't like me to tongue your pussy for you? I could go in very deep and make you come, Edy. Wouldn't you like me to make you come like crazy?"
Edy smiled. "Do you want to really?"
"Oh, Edy, you're my best friend and sometimes I think you could almost be my one and only lover. Of course I want to. I'd love to make you come, dear." Irma patted Edy's thigh suggestively. "How about it? Want me to stick my tongue up your crevice, baby?"
"You have changed, haven't you, Irma? You have changed for the better, I must say. I like you this way. Let me see your tongue," Edy added playfully. "I want to see how hard it is."
Irma giggled. "Doesn't get hard, just limp and wet and hot."
"You make me hot when you talk this way," Edy said, smiling. "I could use a little heat. I've been down in the dumps for days."
"I know you have. Ever since Jules fucked you in the woods that night. You never have told me much about it. Didn't you like it?"
"Yes," Edy confessed. "I have to admit that Jules was very good that night. Only thing I didn't like was lying down in the woods on the damp ground. It was just my imagination, of course, but I could almost feel slithery things running over my feet and arms. That was only at first, of course. When Jules started pumping that big tool of his into my cunt, I forgot all about the slithery things."
"He fucks awful fast and ... well, kind of brutal-like, don't you think?"
"The brutality is what a lot of women would give anything for."
"You mean sex brutality, don't you?" Irma was lying on Edy's cot now and running her hands up and down Edy's thighs.
"Of course. I wouldn't want a man to walk up to me on the street and hit me in the mouth. I only want him to hurt me when he puts it in."
"Is your Joey brutal with you?"
"No. I wouldn't say he was. He gets rather rough sometimes, especially when I'm acting cool to his advances."
Irma giggled. "I can't imagine you acting cool to a guy's advances, forgive me for saying so, Edy."
Edy smiled again. "It does seem out of character for me, doesn't it?"
"Have you always been a hot girl, Edy?" Irma's hand was now poised directly over Edy's pussy. Because Edy wasn't wearing panties, it was relatively easy for Irma's forefinger to snake into the slit.
"That feels kind of good, Irma," Edy said before replying. "Yes. I've just about always had hot pants, since I was about eleven years old."
Irma moved her finger in and out slowly and Edy shivered with pleasure. Spreading her legs slightly more, she leaned back against the pillow heavily and opened her mouth. "You certainly are a good finger-fucker, Irma. I didn't know you had such a talent."
"Oh, I love you when you talk that way to me, Edy. Tell me when it feels good and when it feels bad."
"Oh, it doesn't feel bad. It just feels good. My goodness ... " Edy flopped down flat on her back and spread her legs wide. "Go in as deep as you can, Irma. I'm awful hot now, honey."
"I want to use my tongue. Do you mind?"
Edy felt a thrill pass through her. "Do I mind? Of course I don't mind. I can hardly wait for your tongue to enter me, honey."
"I like it when you call me that. It makes me feel good. I. . . " But Irma's further words were cut chort because of the fact that she was kissing Edy's cunt, running her tongue back and forth over it and then, finally, plunging it deeply into the hot, wet slit. Edy almost had an orgasm immediately, and this struck her as being little short of incredible.
"Wow," Edy cried, gasping hard for air. "You're really turning me on this time, Irma. Mmmmm, that feels wonderful. , . go deep, baby, real deep and be ... sure to touch the ... button." Edy could scarcely speak, her passion was so intense.
Irma stopped her tonguing momentarily. "I'm going to make you blow like you never blew before, Edy. That's because I want you to be very happy. You've been too let down lately."
Edy waved her hand. She was too excited to say anything at the moment. When Irma attacked her pussy again, Edy nearly jumped from the bed. She was extraordinarily passionate now and wanted to do an oral job on Irma. Reversing positions quickly, she lifted the other girl's skirt and pulled her panties down far enough to get at" the delicious furry spot. She had no more than attacked the lovely place when it all came to an abrupt end.
"What's going on here?" a stern voice asked from the doorway. "What are you girls ... doing?"
Edy moved away from Irma and Irma moved away from Edy, but neither was fast enough. The counselor, Miss Horton, a dark-eyed brunette of twenty-five, well-stacked in her own right, had caught them in the act and everyone knew it. Miss Horton moved farther into the room and closed the door behind her, though it was quite hot in the cabin.
"Well," she said. "Which one of you is going to tell me? What's going on here?"
Edy looked at Miss Horton, but Irma looked at the floor. "Just what you think, Miss Horton," Edy heard herself say.
"I think I saw two young girls performing in a most ... unusual ... manner," Miss Horton said strongly, but there was no rancor in her tone.
Edy took a deep breath. "There are no boys around this place, Miss Horton. What would you have us do?"
"That's not for me to say," Miss Horton replied, her face slightly red. "Young girls in our care aren't supposed to be. . . making substitutions for boys ... "
Edy knew this was her chance to score a hit on Miss Horton and perhaps to close her mouth about what she had seen. "We can't very well sneak into the woods at night, Miss Horton. Someone might see us ... with someone." She emphasized the last word.
Miss Horton flushed deeply. "I er beg your pardon."
"I said," Edy repeated, "that we can't sneak into the woods and meet a man ... say, someone like ... Jules, the farmer, or handyman around the camp, whatever he is."
Miss Horton's face was very red now and her poise was down the drain. Edy had taken her apart and it was evident from the agonized look on her pretty face. It seemed a shame to Edy to have to resort to such tactics, but sometimes it was necessary. A girl had to protect herself.
"I ... don't intend to report this ... episode," Miss Horton said quietly. "Please ... don't let me catch you at ... it again. That will be all, girls." She turned and opening the cabin door, stepped outside. She didn't look back.
Edy grinned. "She's caught up. She won't say a word about it. She knows I saw her in the woods with Jules. She won't turn in a report, just as she said."
"I'm scared, Edy. If she ever tells on us ... my mother and father will kill me. I know they will."
"Don't worry. They'll never know about it. Parents are always the last people in the world to learn about their kids."
"Parents are pretty dumb, aren't they?" Irma replied, giggling nervously.
Edy shrugged. "They're no dumber than we are. They've just had more time to make it known."
"Hey, you're smart, Edy. You're just awful smart."
Again Edy shrugged. "No, I'm not. If I were, I'd be able to Figure out how we could go down on each other right now."
"Maybe we could go for a walk in the woods together."
"Nope. That's out. Miss Horton is going to be watching us like a hawk. There's only one way to beat her."
"What way is that?"
"We have to tell Jules to get her into the woods and while she is there, maybe we can sneak out of the camp and ... well, meet our old guys again."
"Oh yes, I'd like that," Irma said eagerly. Then more soberly, "But just the same, I'd like to suck your pussy now."
"Sorry. That's out for now. Miss Horton might have more guts than I think she has. We have to wait a bit and find out."
Camp Deerwood August 3
Dear Joey:
By now you have received my other letter apologizing for being so mean to you earlier. I haven't as yet received a reply from that one, but I'm writing you again anyhow. Boy, did I have a happening. As you know, my roommate is named Irma. I've told you about how she and I get together for a litle pussy-eating when we're hard up for our loved ones at home (that's you, Joey baby). Well, we were on my cot awhile ago going at it like mad when in walks one of the camp counselors, a woman named Miss Horton. I think I may have mentioned her to you some time ago. (By the way, I hope it's okay for me to tell you about what happened. I mean, I didn't want us to have any more fights. All right?) As I was saying, Irma and I were lying on my cot and we each had the other's skirt up and were pussy-eating like crazy. Wow, what a hot scene and in walks this Miss Horton. She tried to read the riot act to us, but I just told her, indirectly, about having seen her and this Jules guy (he's that big farmer I told you about) fooling around in the woods. She got red in the face and stammered around all over the place, mumbled a few words about not turning in a report on Irma and me and left the cabin. Boy, did it ever make me feel good to put down one of these camp counselors, they're such a prissy lot, though I admit that Miss Horton isn't, or doesn't seem to be. The fact that she was fucking Jules in the woods seems to indicate she's okay.
That Irma, she's really something. Boy, is she a hot gal! She's almost as hot as I am sometimes.
"You know what, Joey. I'll bet you could have a ball fucking her. Maybe we can arrange something between you two sometime, as soon as both of us get out of this dumb camp. Boy, I'd like to watch you fuck her. Do you think there's something wrong with me because I'd like to watch you fuck her? I wonder if I'm what they call a voyeur. If I am, then I guess everyone is, huh?
Anyway, I'm trying to get to the real point of this letter, besides, of course, telling you about being caught. I'm going to get Jules to entice Miss Horton into the woods tonight, or if not tonight, then tomorrow night, and at the same time have him get Mr. Murray and Mr. Hart to pick Irma and me up in the car. I want Jules to bring Miss Horton along and all six of us will have a sex session. This means we'll have to go somewhere, just where this will be I don't know.
I'll leave that part of it up to Mr. Murray and Mr. Hart. I'm trying to get something on Miss Horton, so I'll be sure she won't tell on us. If my goddamned stepmother ever found out I was doing things with a girl, she'd have me put away for life. I know she would. She'd like nothing better than to get rid of me so she could then get rid of my father and inherit all of his money, instead of having to settle for only a little bit of it, the way his will is set up. I know about my father's will. He told me. He also told me never to mention it to anyone, including you, Joey, so please ... don't betray me. Accidentally, I mean.
I have to go now and find Jules. I want him to get the message through to Mr. Murray and Mr. Hart.
Please ... Joey? Don't be jealous of what I'm doing with these men. I don't care anything about them. You enjoy your old women while I'm here and I'll enjoy my old men, or maybe I should say old man, as Mr. Murray is the one I really go out with. Mr. Hart is Irma's guy.
Guy! Some guys these men are. Both are almost old enough to be our grandfathers.
Love, and write to me, honey, Edy
When Edy had written the letter she sealed it in an envelope and placed it under her pillow. When evening arrived she still hadn't placed it in the outgoing mailbox at the center of the camp.
CHAPTER 9
Everything had been arranged by Jules and the four people waited at the side of the road for the car to show up with Mr. Hart and Mr. Murray in it. Irma was shivering. Edy was grinning to herself in the dark and trying not to stand too close to Jules who had his arm about an extremely silent Miss Horton, who had, Edy found out, been very reluctant to go out in the company of the girls. Jules had practically forced her to accompany them, saying he might drop a hint to the head counselor about his activities with Miss Horton if she didn't go with them. Or so he had told Edy. Edy wasn't quite certain if she believed this or not, but it made little difference. Miss Horton was here and she, too, was waiting for the car to arrive, which it did after some ten minutes of waiting. Everyone climbed into the car; no one seemed inclined to talk much and in another ten minutes they climbed out of the car and entered a dimly lit home located somewhere in the country and not too far away from the camp. Mr. Murray broke the seal on a bottle of whiskey and everyone had a drink. Still no one was saying much, but Edy noted that Jules had lost little time in getting his hand under the skirt of Miss Horton. Everyone was sitting on the carpet, the older men using B chairs to lean their backs against. Edy leaned over Mr. Murray and felt of the front of him. Mr. Murray pressed her hand down hard on him and she felt his cock growing.
"Let's go to a bedroom," she suggested.
He shook his head. "We three men have agreed to do all our fucking in front of the others if it's agreeable to you ladies."
Everyone nodded, including Edy who was somewhat astonished at this turn of events, an astonishment she was to lose rather quickly. Mr. Murray pushed her down on her back and sat straddling her chest looking down at her.
"Would everyone care to watch Edy suck me off?" he asked loudly.
Everyone in the circle said "yes" about the same time, everyone with the exception of Edy, who had mixed feelings about it, for the time being. She was perfectly willing that the others should watch her get fucked, but she wasn't sure she wanted to suck a cock in front of them. She wondered what Joey would think of all this. He probably would have mixed feelings about it, too. She had no more time to wonder about anything, for Mr. Murray, panting rather hard, had removed his cock and was inserting it between her lips, while all the others leaned forward to watch Edy do the suck job on him. She felt terribly self-conscious for a few moments, but this passed and the only other feeling she had was that of a wild kind of passion that came over a person when he put on an exhibition for others to view. There was something so forbidden, so utterly forbidden about this sort of thing that it made it appear far more sensational than it may have been. At any rate, Edy was nearly beside herself with excitement and urge.
Mr. Murray unbuckled his belt and opened his trousers, shoving them well down on his massive thighs. His body was powerful and well shaped. Obviously he was a man who believed in keeping in top physical condition. Edy had removed her mouth from his prick momentarily to inspect the head of it in a loving and excited manner. She wanted to see his cock this close to her lips so she could remember how it appeared just prior to her doing the suck job. It looked beautiful to her and, as her passion swept over her in waves, she seized the older man's cock with her hand and stuck the head between her lips. Running her tongue over it, she heard him gasp and felt his body stiffening greatly. He was in control of himself enough so that he didn't sit on her with all his weight, thus shutting off her breath. Had he done this, she wouldn't have been able to suck his stick successfully because the person underneath must breathe properly to do it well. Mr. Murray's cock, she discovered now, had a wonderful, delicious taste to it and she wanted badly to bite down on it ever so lightly, which she did. He gasped when she did so, apparently in fear, but when she relaxed her teeth on his hard flesh he breathed easier and began to pump himself into her. She didn't want him to do this. She wanted him to sit still and permit her the privilege of sucking him off through her efforts alone. Apparently he understood this now, for he held his body still as she sucked frantically.
Edy was dimly aware that the others were crowded around close and were watching her every move in utter fascination. This served to spur her on and she speeded up the tempo considerably, causing Mr. Murray to rock back and forth slightly, moaning and groaning with pleasure as he did so. This, in turn, spurred Edy on even more and now she began to suck the stiffened, rubbery cock while at the same time rubbing her tongue over the head of it feverishly and with great rapidity. This caused Mr. Murray to sway back and forth and murmur unintelligible words. The man's face broke out in a savage sweat, his eyes became mere slits, and his breathing turned so rapid and hoarse-sounding that it appeared he was having difficulty getting enough air, which didn't, however, affect the profound look of sensual pleasure that covered his face. His mouth began to drool somewhat as he leaned forward, pumping his loins ever so little, his cock going in and out of Edy's mouth from his effort alone. Now, because she was growing tired, Edy stopped her head movement for the most part and allowed the middle-aged man to fuck her in the mouth. He sensed that she wanted him to come in her now, apparently, for he increased his speed of movement and she felt the hardened prick stabbing at her in earnest. She closed her eyes as the others seemed to hold their breath and then, while Mr. Murray let our a roar of pleasure that could have been heard a block away, Edy felt the hot, stinging pleasure of his spunk stream striking the roof of her mouth. Frantically, eagerly, she swallowed his manhood, taking all that he could ejaculate. Even when he had ceased to flow in her, she sucked on him and, as if by magic, another small spurt of juice flew from the tiny opening in the end of his lance.
Then, breathing hard and shaking, Mr. Murray removed his cock from her sweetly aching lips and rolled over on his back, moaning in the most remarkable manner imaginable.
Edy waited until her own breathing process was somewhat restored before she wiped her lips unconsciously and sat up to stare at the others so, close at hand. Without an exception, every eye was filled with complete and utter lust. In no time at all, the others were busily engaged in sexing someone else. Only Edy and Mr. Murray were excluded from the circle.
Camp Deerwood August 4
Dear Joey:
Boy, did I have a time last evening! You wouldn't believe it. No, I don't mean that. You would believe it, if I told you. You have always believed me, no matter what I told you. The reason for this, Joey baby, is that I have always told you the truth, as far as I know. I said "as far as I know" becaus sometimes you will tell something to a person that isn't true but won't know it at the time. There ... got that out of the way.
As I started to say, boy, did I have a fine time last evening. Irma and I went out with those two middle-aged men again, Mr. Murray and Mr. Hart, only this time we persuaded Jules to come along and bring Miss Horton, the counselor. (She's the best counselor at the camp, by the way. She's really quite nice. The rest of them are, I think, mostly Lesbians. They look like it and act like it.) Well, we all got out of the camp okay. That is Irma and Miss Horton and I did. Miss Horton had to sneak out the same as Irma and I did. I was going to try to fix her in some way, and by that I mean make sure I had something on her so she couldn't turn me in, turn in a bad report on me, that is, but after being with her an entire evening and getting to know her very well indeed, changed my mind about doing such a thing to her. I wouldn't think of doing anything to hurt that woman now. What's more, I don't believe she would ever harm me, or Irma, for that matter. As I said, she turned out to be a very nice woman. The way I'm talking about her makes her appear to be very old, like maybe thirty-five or something, but she's not that old she's about twenty-five at the most.
I keep getting away from the subject. Guess that's because I hardly know where to start to tell you about it. I'm still up in the air from all that hot-blooded sex stuff. I feel almost as high from what happened last night as I did after we had our first fucking. Remember that night, Joey? Brother, were you worked up and passionate.
We went to some big house in the country. I never did find out where the place was located. I mean, I didn't pay any attention to where we were going once all six of us were in the car. I suppose the reason for this is because Mr. Murray had his hand under my skirt and inside of my panties all the time we were in the car. That man, wow! He finger-fucked me all the way to the house. I had two orgasms in the car, but this wasn't the really great part of the evening. The great part was the exhibitions we put on for the others. I went first don't ask me why. It just happened that way. I sucked Mr. Murray's cock while all the others crowded around and watched. Maybe I shouldn't tell you this, Joey, but I can't be dishonest with you. I just can't.
After I had finished with Mr. Murray, it was time for Irma to do her bit. You should have seen this girl, the way she stripped off her clothing and sat down on Mr. Hart's face, after telling him to lie flat on the carpet. The look on her face was something out of this crazy world, believe me. You never saw such raw lust. I have to confess that I sat there on the floor along with the others and watched her work Mr. Hart over. She, as I said, was sitting on his face while he tongue-fucked her, but at the same time she bent over and was sucking his hard-on. Gee, Joey, that turned me on something wonderful. When I come back to town you and I will have to organize orgy parties and get people together to do this same thing. It is unbelievable. The effect it has on you is terrific. Even now, as I recall how I felt last night, I find it difficult to believe that I was as turned on sexually as I actually was. I have never known such a feeling. As I said, it is unbelievable, what it does to you. Irma was like a panting sex machine. She never stopped working Mr. Hart for even one moment. One time he tried to push her cunt away from his face momentarily to catch his breath, I believe but she pushed her box down onto his mouth so fiercely that I guess he gave up trying to breathe better and just went on with the act. Mr. Hart, despite his breathing troubles, was having himself one hell of a ball. The way he groaned and moaned and made unintelligible sounds ... well, it was really wild.
Oh, Joey honey, it makes me so hot to write about this. I wish you were here so you could fuck me all day long. My God, how I need to have your long whang rammed up my twat. I tell you, honey. I can't stand not seeing you. I'm slowly but surely going crazy in this damned camp. Well, maybe not crazy, but you know what I mean. Everything I do sexually is done because I can't get my hands on you, darling. Honest, that's the whole truth and nothing but.
Oh, baby, I'd love to suck your joint right now.
Excuse me a minute, Joey. Miss Horton just entered the cabin. I have no idea of what she wants, but I'm not afraid of her. I like her. As I told you before, she's a very nice woman. You should have seen what she did to Jules last night with the rest of us watching...
Well, Miss Horton seemed worried. It seems someone saw her leaving the camp last night. She didn't say who this someone was, but I gathered, or maybe I just imagined, that it was the head counselor, who is an old biddy of a
Lesbian if I ever saw one. Boy, what an awful-looking, tough old broad she is. She's the type of broad who reminds you of your rough Uncle. Well, Miss Horton asked me to say she was in my cabin last evening. She asked me to tell Irma to say the same thing. It seems that the camp owes her six weeks back pay and she is afraid the head counselor will try to fire her without paying her, using the excuse that Miss Horton is unfit to be a counselor, when, as a matter-of-fact, she is probably one of the few halfway normal females on the staff. How can people be so dumb? I mean, I know I just know that most parents would believe the head counselor if she said she was removing Miss Horton from the staff for immorality, but these same parents wouldn't for one moment ever question the morality of a Lesbian. Parents won't even admit to each other that Lesbians, for the most part, work as counselors in this sort of camp. This isn't just my idea. Miss Horton, who has worked in several summer camps for girls, says it is true. She even said this camp had less Lesbians than most of them, which is really surprising, because almost all of them, except Miss Horton look like queers to me. Don't misunderstand me, baby. I have nothing against queers. They have a right to live and love the same as anybody. What I can't stand is for a queer to be a queer and then hide it from others while at the same time put down other people, such as Miss Horton, for being normal. I hope you get my meaning here. I'm not too sure I made it clear enough. Anyhow. . .
Last night was wonderful, but it would, naturally, have been twice as wonderful if you had been there, so I could have sucked you off instead of Mr. Murray. Know what I mean by this? I mean I love you, you nut.
Edy
P.S. Are you getting enough fucking out of the old gal, whoever she is? Why don't you write and tell me her name, Joey honey. I'm terribly interested in who she is. Please tell me. I may want to have a look at her sometime just so I'll know what my competition is. I'm just kidding, of course, but I would like to know who she is. Will you tell me, baby? Gee, I hope so. By the way, I have written you two or three times since I last heard from you. Won't you please write to me soon, honey. And see if you can find out when my stepmother is going to permit me to come home. Gee, baby, I'm so sick of this camp even though I have been having some wonderful fucking. Wonderful or not, it's not the same as being in bed with you, Joey. There, I said it again. In my book, baby, you're the greatest of them all. Absolutely.
Love, Edy
CHAPTER 10
Edy:
I have read one of your recent letters to your "friend" Joey Brown and I must say I heartily disapprove of the language you use in writing to this young boy. He was good enough to show me one of your letters, though I admit I had to apply certain pressures to him. I am thoroughly ashamed of you for such filthy talk. One of the reasons I sent you to the very high class Camp Deerwood was that I hoped against hope that some sense of propriety and manners from those estimable ladies, the counselors, might rub off on you, but I am afraid it has done little good. You are still the vulgar-talking little tramp you have always been, though heaven knows I have struggled mightily to improve you.
I have not informed your father as yet of your filthy letters. I shall not do so unless you make it necessary, in which case you may be quite sure, young lady, that I will.
To put the matter bluntly you make me ill. I am positively sick to my stomach. You are a degenerate little fool and I intend to dispose of you and your filthy talk just as soon as I can do so in a manner that will not attract any publicity. Heaven knows you have ruined my name and your father's name already to a considerable degree and you may depend on it, young lady, that I shall not allow you to harm us anymore.
I have sent instructions to the head counselor to keep a night watch over your cabin. We shall see if you are then able to sneak away in the night and keep a rendezvous with those old degenerate men of whom you speak so glowingly. I am warning you here and now. If you should succeed in running away from the camp (this will be highly unlikely, for, as I have said, I am instructing them to watch you closely henceforth), I fully intend to call in the police and have you and your friends arrested. Perhaps I cannot do much to you other than have you put away in a school for wayward girls, but I can definitely have those men arrested and thrown in jail for contributing to the delinquency of a minor.
Now you behave yourself, young lady, or so help me you'll wish you had never been born.
Your mother, Verna Dorn
Camp Deerwood August 10
Dear Joey:
You can just forget my humble letter of apology, you jerk. What do you mean allowing my stepmother to read my confidential letters to you? What on earth is wrong with you, Joey Brown? You know how I despise my stepmother and how she hates me. Those letters I sent you were from my heart and they were meant for only you to read. But you had to show them, or one of them, to her, didn't you? Damn you. Do you know something? I think I hate you. I really do. I think I really hate you now. Of all the contemptible things to do, your letting her read my letters is the very worst.
Oh, if I had you here I could slap your face so hard.
Oh, Joey, baby, how could you have done such an awful thing to me? Don't you realize what you have done? You have given my stepmother the very thing she needs to get rid of me for good. It's only a question of time before she tries to have me put away in a girl's vocational school, which is just another way of saying prison. She can do it. She knows people who have the power to put girls away, like judges and those kinds of people. I just can't believe that you would throw me to the wolves. She must have tricked you in some way.
When I began this letter I was terribly angry at you, but now I'm cooling off a bit and all I can say is why, Joey? Why did you let her read my letter to you? Please ... please write and tell me why you did this terrible thing to me. I know. You think I'm making a big thing out of little or nothing, but believe me, Joey, I'm not. I know my stepmother and you do not. You may think you know her, but you don't. If you did know her you would never have shown her my letter. Honestly. I'm not a crybaby, as you very well know, but I'm all uptight inside now and I feel as if I could cry for a solid week, I'm so unhappy. Please write and explain. You must explain this terrible thing to me. You simply must, Joey Brown.
Edy
Dear Edy:
I just read your last letter and can't say that I like being called a jerk. Where the hell do you get off calling me names and what letter of apology are you talking about? You apologize in one paragraph and call me lousy names in the next.
I let your stepmother read your letter, you say. Well, nuts to that. What makes you think I let her read your letter? I didn't let her read anything. I did lose one of your letters somewhere, but I don't see how she could have gotten her hands on it. I certainly didn't lose it at. . . her house. I don't go to her house. You ought to know that. Anyway, I'm sore at you. All you've been telling me about for the past six weeks is how dumb that camp is in one line and in the very next line you're telling me what a ball you had sucking someone off. How do you think I like that kind of crap? I mean, what makes you think it's okay with me for my girl to be screwing every old man in the country up there? I don't like any part of what you're doing, and if you don't like hearing me saying this, or reading my words, I should say ... then, I guess you can just go to hell, like I told you once before.
Joey
P.S. Don't write me anymore dumb letters. I'm not going to read 'em. I don't want to hear about you fucking all them old guys. Boy, are you ever a lousy pushover. I'll bet you'd take on a hound dog if you couldn't find a guy.
Camp Deerwood August 14
Dear Big Shot Joey:
Well, here was go again, having another fight by way of the mails. You sound like you're furious at me. Nothing new about that. I called you a jerk, because goddamn you, that's what you were when you gave my letter to my stepmother. You deny you did this. I say you are a fibber. I know you gave it to her. She as much as told me so. As a matter-of-fact, she did tell me you let her read it.
Anyway, I wish I had you here, Joey Brown. Believe me, I would get you aroused and when your cock was big enough I would take it in my mouth (lovingly, of course) and bite the goddamned thing off.
You deserve to bleed to death, you bastard.
You lousy, stinking, old-woman fucker. Stick your thumb up your ass-hole, prick.
You know who
It was nearly dark when Miss Horton came to the door of the cabin and asked Edy if she might come inside. Edy told her she could and started to get up from her cot. The only other furniture in this psuedo-modernistic camp was Irma's cot, a dresser and chest of drawers. When Miss Horton entered she looked about, evidently for a chair, but seeing none remained standing in the middle of the room.
"Sit on my cot, Miss Horton, please," Edy said, patting the cot. She wondered what it would be like to get between Miss Horton's legs, or better still, have Miss Horton crawl between her legs and use her tongue on Edy's cunt. "That's okay," Edy added, seeing the hesitation in the counselor's eyes. "I promise not to rape you." Edy said this with a twinkle in her eye, knowing full well that Miss Horton wouldn't object to her language as the other counselors would do. Object? They would raise the roof.
Miss Horton bit her lips first and then smiled and bit her lips again. When she sat down on the edge of Edy's cot, she looked at the girl and spoke almost in a whisper. "You must know that I have been assigned to spy on you and Irma," she said hurriedly. "So don't be surprised at anything I do. Understand?" Edy nodded. "Please tell Irma and also warn her to be careful about what she says to the other girls concerning me. That is, tell her not to praise me or anything of that nature. These old biddies who run this place are extremely suspicious."
Edy's lips parted, her heart picked up a beat. "My stepmother has been making trouble for me with the head counselor, hasn't she?"
"I'm not sure who did it, but the head told me I was to watch you two girls for a few nights to make sure you were in bed where you belong. If you ask me, I think the head would like to be ... in bed with you, with both of you, the old bitch."
Edy giggled but stopped it when she saw that Miss Horton wasn't smiling. "I'm supposed to be dropping in on you to get to know you better, in case anyone asks, any of the other girls, I mean." Miss Horton's face clouded. "I had better rephrase that. I am supposed to be your personal counselor for a time. There. That's what you can tell the other girls if need be."
"I don't have anything much to do with the other girls, Miss Horton. I think they're a dumb bunch and so does Irma. They're still playing with dolls, so to speak."
"Yes, I know, Edy. I find them difficult to deal with. I much prefer someone like yourself. I'm not passing out compliments, but you're so much more sophisticated than these others. I like sophisticated females and detest the other kind, no matter what the age, unless, of course, they are mere children."
"Miss Horton, you're a peach. I like you. If I were a man, I'd pull you down on this cot and fuck the hell out of your pussy."
Miss Horton's dark eyes twinkled, her large bosom expanded and her lovely mouth broke into a smile. She brushed her dark hair out of her eyes and stared deeply into Edy's. "You do speak freely, don't you, Edy. What a shame..." Here she lowered her tone considerably. ". . . what a shame we can't suck one another's cunt."
Edy felt her heart leap again. "Why ... can't ... we? Miss Horton?" she asked, her pulse racing.
"I'm afraid we'd be caught, my dear."
Edy looked at Miss Horton's rising and falling tits and she became excited immediately and to a very great extent. "Miss Horton," she said slowly, "I don't give a damn if I'm caught. Do you? I'd like to get my tongue up your cunt and make you cream."
"Are you really that way or is it ... " Miss Horton didn't complete the question.
Edy understood her. She shook her head. "I'm not a queer. I may be bi-sexual, I don't know. What I really am is a hot-blooded bitch." She giggled and held her hand over her mouth as she did so.
"I must say you're very cute when you giggle that way and I love hearing you talk in this manner. Perhaps later, when the entire camp is sleeping I may be able to sneak into your cabin and ... well, we shall see what'll happen. One thing what about your roommate? Will she go along with female lovemaking? You see, I don't know her too well yet, though I admit she did an excellent job of putting on an exhibition with Mr. Hart. My, she was a hot thing, wasn't she?"
"Yes, she was. She still is. Don't worry about Irma. She's just like I am ready at all times for anything having to do with sex."
"Anything? Anything at all?" Miss Horton's lovely lips were parted as her lustful dark eyes searched Edy's own.
"Anything at all. You heard me correctly. I love sex. I need it."
Miss Horton nodded. "You're very much as I was at your age, still am, for that mater. I need sex often, also. Well, I must go now. Remember what I told you. Speak to Irma about my ... spying on you two. Tell her it can't be helped."
"I will," Edy promised. "Be sure to come back tonight. Both Irma and I would like to explore your ... well, the place between your legs, Miss Horton." She giggled again.
Miss Horton got off the bed and when she did she allowed her body to rub hard against Edy's.
"You may count on my being here, dear. I'd like to get my tongue inside your box, too, you know. Good-bye for now." She left the cabin quickly before Edy could say anything more.
Edy sat up on the cot and rubbed her titties. "God," she muttered, "I'm hot. How come I get so damned hot at the worst possible times?" A few minutes later Irma entered the cabin and threw herself down on her cot and swore, something Edy had seldom if ever heard her do before. "What's with you, Irma? Do you have a hot cunt, today?"
Irma had been lying temporarily on her tummy, but now she flopped over on her back and stared at the ceiling. "I wish you were a guy so you could crawl on top and give me the works, Edy. My ... thing needs to be reamed."
Edy grinned. "Would my hot tongue be good enough for you?"
Irma sat up and swing her feet off the cot. "Hey, are you hot, too? I mean, would you like to kiss my pussy?"
"I'd love it," Edy said earnestly. "I'm hot."
"We can't do it, Edy," Irma said soberly. "They're watching us all the time."
Edy pretended not to know about the matter. "Why do you say that, Irma?"
"I heard two of the girls talking about us. When I asked them what they meant, they got red in the face and wouldn't tell me at first. I made them tell me. They said they had heard that we were going to be watched all the time to make sure we didn't get out of line. I asked them what they meant by getting out of line, and boy, did they ever get red then. One of them said it had to do with you and me sneaking out of camp at night. Naturally, I told these girls there was no truth in this, that it was only a vicious rumor, but I don't think they believed me.
"All right," Edy said after remaining silent for a few moments. "So we can't go down on each other now. We can wait till it gets dark, can't we?"
Irma giggled. "Guess so. Think you can stand waiting for it to get dark?"
"I can try," Edy said, purposely omitting telling Irma that Miss Horton would probably be in the cabin later that evening. Edy could not have said for certain that Miss Horton would engage in sex with them (even though she had said she would), but it seemed a reasonable thing to expect of her, after seeing what she had done to and with Jules in front of everyone in the old house.
After the supper hour, during which Edy and Irma made a point of sitting by themselves and away from the other girls, they returned to their cabin and lay on their respective cots waiting for darkness. Edy certainly had no intentions of going to sleep, but go to sleep she did, nevertheless. When she awakened with a start it was pitch-dark in the room, and as she sat up on her cot and listened, she heard the soft sounds of sex taking place on the other cot. Evidently, Miss Horton had come to the cabin and finding Edy asleep had engaged Irma in fun activity. Edy sat quietly on her cot listening to the labored breathing, the very soft and only occasional moans that emanated from the other bed, and felt her passion growing in leaps and bounds. She put her finger in her pussy and rubbed the little button feverishly, her body shivering with delight at this act of self-love. It wasn't enough, however. It was merely a temporary thing and entirely unsatisfactory for such a hot-blooded girl as Edy. She removed her finger after a few moments and tasted it, liking the scent of her own passion but wishing strongly that it could be changed into the odor of male sap. Edy sighed, lay back on her pillow and wondered if she would ever get over feeling hot all the time. She hoped she never would but knew at the same time that being this way was a pain in the ass when one couldn't obtain instant gratification.
She didn't hear the sound of someone approaching the cabin. She didn't hear the sound of that someone entering the cabin. She was much too intent on listening to the passion noises coming from the cot only three yards from where she lay. As she lay listening, she removed her pajama bottoms and this must have been a subconscious move, for no sooner had she removed them than she felt the heat of a body very close to her. It was at that precise instant that she also felt strong hands pushing her down still more flatly on the cot. She sniffed and caught the odor of pipe tobacco, knowing immediately who this person was. Jules.
Jules was in the cabin, holding her down, now lowering his powerful body to hers and, as she held her breath, pleasure running through her flesh and nerves, something hard and brutal forced itself between her legs. Instantly, she discharged, lubricating the entrance for the hard object.
The hard object was Jules' rigid cock.
He grunted when he rammed it all the way in.
He grunted again.
Edy sighed and grunted also when he began to pump the swollen tube into her eager body. "Oh God," she breathed, "how wonderful it is to be a push-over."
CHAPTER 11
The whole beautiful affair came to an abrupt end when the lights of the cabin were suddenly turned on. Edy felt and saw Jules yanking his prick from her cunt, saw him bound to his feet in confusion, saw him zipping up his fly, saw, also, Miss Horton rising from the other cot, her face wet from Irma's lubricating juices. The entire scene was one of frozen immobility for a brief moment. Then the head counselor, a Miss Broone (Edy had scarcely known her name; hadn't known it well enough to have recalled it later, at least), began to alternately stare from one person to another, a cruel, sadistic smile playing about her lips. She had a stick in her hand.
"Well now, what a lovely sight this is," she said severely. "One of our cabins has been turned into an orgy-house. Wonderful. Yes, indeed." She slapped her hand with the stick. "You, Jules, get out of here or I'll have you taken care of."
Jules left the cabin quickly. He said nothing.
Edy stared after his retreating figure for as long as the light from the cabin allowed her to view him. Her lips curled with something akin to disgust at the manner in which the farmer had run away. She had thought Jules to be a man. Now she suspected he was a man only as far as a hard-on makes a man a man, that there was little to him other than the physical. She shrugged. It mattered little to her what sort of person he turned out to be except that it bothered her somewhat to have misjudged anyone to that extent.
"Miss Dorn," the head counselor was saying to Edy firmly. "Can't you pay attention to me when I address you?"
Edy jerked herself out of her semifoggy state of mind. "Oh ... excuse me ... I didn't hear you. Will you repeat your question, please?"
"What makes you think it was a question, Miss Dorn?" the head counselor asked, slapping the stick against her mannish thighs. Miss Broone had iron-gray hair, cut short, and powerful-looking arms and hands. She was about forty, Edy had often thought. Her pale blue eyes bore into Edy's now and there was something close to lust in them.
Edy knew that one of the surest ways of dealing with older people was to shock the devil out of them in an off-hand manner. This is what she proceeded to do. "I have no idea if your remark was a mother-fuckin' question or not," she said coldly to Miss Broone. "Furthermore I don't give a shit. Now. . . what the fuck else have you got to say, old woman?" She stared defiantly at the head counselor. When the woman didn't reply, Edy continued. "Can't you talk, you old shithead? I'd like to ask you a goddamned question, bag. What the hell do you mean busting into my cabin that I pay for, and pay very dearly for, by the way. What do you mean busting in and scaring away the guy I'm fucking with? Come on, damn you. Speak up."
Edy ducked quickly as the stick came flying in her direction. She grabbed the stick from her cot and bounded to her feet. "Get out of here, damn you, you dirty old bag, or I'll knock your fucking brains out. if any. You pumped-up Lesbian beat it."
Much to Edy's surprise, the head counselor, after muttering words that were unintelligible, turned and left the cabin quickly. Irma giggled nervously and Miss Horton cleared her throat.
"I must say, Edy," Miss Horton said soberly, "that was quite a demonstration of courage."
Edy slapped the stick against her hand and walked to the dresser. She unlocked the door of the dresser all dresser doors were locked at this camp and removed her purse. Looking through it, she nodded. "I have about a hundred fifty dollars here. I'm cutting out. Miss Horton, do you think I could find a phone anywhere at this time of night ... I mean one that isn't ten miles from here."
Miss Horton smiled strangely. "The only one I know of is in the camp office, dear."
Edy looked at the brunette carefully. "I don't suppose you could get a call through to, say Mr. Murray, sometime tonight.
Miss Horton sighed, "Well ... I can try ... I'll have to wait till the head goes to sleep ... the head counselor, I mean."
"That old bat. Don't tell me she requires sleep? I thought only living creatures need sleep."
Miss Horton chuckled nervously. "She sleeps occasionally. I think." Miss Horton coughed. "If I live to be a hundred I'll never forget the look of utter defeat that was in her eyes when you stood up to her, Edy. That was beautiful."
Edy nodded absently. "All very well," she said. "But Irma and I, or at least I, have to get out of this camp tonight. I can't wait till the head gets in touch with my stepmother." Edy sighed. "Damn stepmothers. Why do I have to be annoyed with one being around my neck?"
"Edy dear, didn't you know?" Miss Horton said. "Every girl in this camp has a stepmother. That's what this camp is all about. It's a place for stepmothers to send their teen-age female nuisances that's the official word for girls like yourself, Edy, it's not my term for the summer. The idea is to get the girls away from their fathers so the stepmother can have full reign. No girl is allowed in this camp unless a stepmother sends her here. That's why it costs so much to stay here for a summer. The counselors soak the devil out of these rich stepmothers to take care of the unwanted brats, as they are called."
Edy turned to Irma. "Do you nave a stepmother? You never told me, did you?"
Irma nodded. "I don't like talking about her," she said.
"Another thing you may not know, girls, is this: Jules isn't a fanner who does odd jobs around the camp. He is hired by the camp, unofficially, of course, to seduce the girls. The stepmothers want the girls seduced if at all possible. They want to have something on the kids when they return home in the fall. For example, Edy, the first time Jules came to your cabin and made love to you there were people outside the door shooting pictures of the whole bit. They have cameras that work in the dark using infrared film. They don't need light. Also, each time you sneaked out of camp it was known where you went. Jules was supposed to make a full report on your evening out."
"But you were with us on one occasion, Miss Horton. You participated in the orgy bit. How come you..."
"They told me I had to go along with it," Miss Horton said simply. "You see, the head counselor and two other counselors, have a hold over me. What that hold is I'm not going to say, but I have had to do whatever they say."
"I see." Edy studied Miss Horton's eyes and strangely enough found she believed the woman.
"I don't quite understand all of this," Edy said slowly. "If they employ Jules to seduce the girls, why did the head bust in here a few minutes ago and break things up?"
"Because she already has enough evidence on you to give it to your stepmother. Now that the file is made up on you, there's no point in allowing you to enjoy Jules. My goodness, no. The head never wants to see any woman enjoy herself." Miss Horton made a face. "Unless, of course, the head is doing the seducing. That may come next for you, Edy, if you remain here. That old bat wants to seduce every young girl in camp. Just as soon as she discovers a girl's stepmother doesn't mind having this done to the kid, the head makes her move and tries to tongue the girl off. I'm not making this up. You had her pinpointed correctly. She definitely is a Lesbian."
"I want to get out of this camp tonight, Miss Horton, if you will make a call to Mr. Murray and have him meet me at the same place. I know he'll see to it that I get away from here." Edy cleared her throat. "Irma, you can come with me if you want to."
"I won't be able to make the call, dear," Miss Horton said thoughtfully. "That is, I'm fairly certain I won't. Perhaps I can."
"Well, I can always just run away hitchhike ... something."
"Why ... do you want to leave? Miss Broone knew all about your er sexual activity before."
"Because all of a sudden I'm sick of being treated like an unwanted disease. My stepmother, I'm referring to chiefly. That's the way she has always treated me, ever since my father got hooked into marrying her."
Irma was saying nothing during all of this exchange. She merely looked from one speaker to the other, apparently having nothing to offer of her own.
Miss Horton got to her feet and walked to the door. "If I were you, Edy, I'd stay here ... at least for the night. You can lock your cabin. The head won't bother you anymore tonight, I'm sure. Tomorrow you can make up your mind as to exactly what you want to do. I must go now. The head will want to have a talk with me, I'm afraid."
"Good-night, Miss Horton," Edy said. "Thanks anyway."
"Good-night, girls," Miss Horton said, and left the cabin. She returned almost immediately. Handing two envelopes to Edy, she said, "I almost forgot what I originally came here for besides, of course, spying on you." Here she smiled. "These letters. From your family, I suppose." She smiled again and this time left and didn't return.
Edy looked at the letters and put them in her purse without reading them. She wasn't in the mood for reading letters. Walking slowly to the door, she locked it securely and turned about to face Irma. "Well, baby," she said, "we're finally alone. Want to raise hell a bit?"
Irma looked troubled. "I don't think we'd better fool around now, Edy. Miss Broone will kill us if she catches us again."
"Fuck her," Edy said savagely. "I hate that bitch."
"Please, Edy. Don't hate people so much. Please?" There was a pleading look in Irma's eyes and it touched Edy.
"Okay, Irma," Edy said, and grinned. "I'll try to hold down my hostility toward certain people if it bothers you."
"It doesn't bother me, honey," Irma said. "Not really. It's just that I'd rather hear you talk about sucking a man's cock, or something like that."
Edy looked at Irma. "How would you like to hear me talk about honey-dipping a girl's cunt, baby?"
Irma blinked. "Oh ... I'd love to hear about honey-dipping."
Edy walked closer to Irma's cot. "Take out your titties," she said. "I want to look at them, maybe suck them for a time."
Irma giggled and sighed almost at the same time. "Oh, I love you when you talk this way. It makes me so hot."
"I talk about sucking tits only when there's no cock in sight, baby," Edy said, deliberately trying to sound sexy. She wanted to arouse Irma as much as she possibly could. "Come on. Take out your tits. I want to see 'em."
Irma giggled and pulled her small but pointed titties out of her nightgown. Edy sat down on Irma's cot and, reaching over, ran her hands over the other girl's titties. The titties were warm and soft and nice to the touch. Edy shrugged and bending her head, began to suck on one of them. Immediately, Irma sought to get her fingers into Edy's pussy. She didn't particularly want Irma to finger-fuck her, but what else was there at the moment? So lying down on the cot, with the other girl's tit still in her mouth, she pushed down her pajama bottoms and permitted Irma to insert her two middle fingers. Irma began quickly to masturbate Edy. Edy found she rather liked it. It was something to do, at least. Irma was a hot-blooded little girl and ... well, it was better than no sex at all. She continued to suck Irma's tits and Irma, in turn, continued to finger-fuck her. It felt so good to Edy that she finally stiffened her young body and knew the hot pleasure of an orgasm taking place within her. Afterwards, she shuddered and felt the approach of still another orgasm.
The look of wanton lust in Irma's eyes was something else, Edy noted, but she couldn't spend much time considering this, her own lust being too demanding of her. Edy quickly left the vicinity of Irma's tits and went lower on Irma, reversing her body as she made the move. Now her lips sought the furry spot and plunged deeply into it, her tongue feverishly darting in and out of the delicious wetness. Irma stiffened her body, cried out and began to finger-fuck Edy in a frighteningly fast manner. Edy went off quickly, but still she wanted more and sought to tongue off the girl on the cot with her.
"Oh, my God, Edy," Irma cried out. "I'm ... coming ... baby ... I'm ... oh ... God! Oh, my ... God ... oh ... oh . . .oh" Her voice trailed off as her orgasm apparently hit its peak and then slowly faded away.
Edy had fully expected someone to be stationed outside her cabin to keep an eye on her, especially after she had told off the head counselor in such frank language, but when, later, she unlocked the door and stepped out into the darkness of the night, there was no one about. At least, there were no sounds made even though she stood quietly for more than fifteen minutes, listening. It was much too dark to see anyone, but Edy knew that any person keeping a watch on her cabin would sooner or later make some sort of sound. No one can remain absolutely quiet for an extended period.
She wondered where Jules was and, recalling that he was hired to seduce the girls as ordered, she wondered how much he would charge for a seduction job on herself. Thinking about this caused her to chuckle softly.
"What are you chuckling about?" Irma called from the cabin doorway.
"Just thinking about something," Edy returned.
"Boy ... it's awful dark out tonight. I hate the dark."
"Do you? I rather like it," Edy said quietly. "Think I'll take a stroll."
"No, Edy. I mean, please don't leave me alone here."
Edy heard the sounds of fear in the other girl's voice, but she was in no mood to be a protector of young girlhood, or whatever. She had to get away from this cabin if she had to stumble about in the dark to do so. Moving away from it now, she heard Irma call out to her twice, but paying no attention, she kept on moving farther and farther away until she could barely see the light of the cabin. She knew she must be somewhere close to the woods, but so far she hadn't brushed into a tree or bush. Now she could see much better in the dark, her eyes having become accustomed to it, and just ahead, she noted, was the edge of the wood.
She wasn't afraid of the dark or the wood and boldly stepped into it, though being careful to hold her hands out in front of her to protect herself from running into a tree.
She hadn't taken more than four steps when something clutched her and roughly forced her to the ground. Her pajama bottoms were torn from her and, as she rested on hands and knees, she could tell by the odor that it wasn't a man.
"Oh dear," she murmured. "Fuck me. Fuck the piss out of me, beast, I need it so."
It made no difference to her that the male organ belonged to a giant dog. She needed to be fucked, and an organ was an organ, wasn't it?
"Fuck my cunt, beast!" she cried, beggingly. "Fuck it! Fuck it! Fuck it!"
The mammoth dog stabbed her deeply with his massive organ, working in and out of her cunt with lightning speed.
And then it was done, and she was left alone in the woods, every muscle in her body aching from the brutal dog rape.
She sobbed quietly for a long time and then, getting to her feet, staggered back to her cabin, where she fell onto her cot and slept like a baby.
CHAPTER 12
The next day when Edy awakened she sat up quickly on her cot and stared about the cabin. It seemed as though she had been dreaming, but in a flash she knew there had been no dream. It had been real. She had been taken by a large male dog in the dark. She lay back down and turned this remarkable happening over in her mind, a strange smile playing about her lips. "What a gas," she muttered. "What an awful gas, beautiful."
She glanced at Irma's cot, but it was empty. Her watch said it was ten o'clock. "There must be some mistake," she murmured. "Hell, they never let me sleep till ten before." She got up and dressed and looked out the cabin door. There were several girls moving about the camp and some, in the distance, were swimming in the lake, but strangely, there were no counselors in view. Edy continued to stare at the camp for perhaps five minutes, but she saw no counselors. "They're having a meeting in the big cabin," she murmured. "The head is probably telling them to watch out for one Edy Dorn." Saying this, Edy smiled to herself and went to the dresser to get her purse. She opened the purse and saw that she still had the same amount of money as the day before. For a brief instant she had wondered if the counselors might have taken the money from her purse while she slept. She wouldn't have put it beyond the realm of possibility for the head counselor to have done such a thing. "The old bitch," Edy muttered. "She's almost as bad as my stepmother."
She remembered the letters Miss Horton had given her the evening before. She opened the first one and read it.
Dear Edy:
I have written you several times, but you never seem to want to answer my letters. What is the matter, Edy? Why don't you answer them? Have I done something to offend you deeply? I know you don't like your stepmother, but she is my wife and I can't be constantly taking your part as opposed to hers. Doing this only means that my life is caught up in a constant turmoil. Please dear, write to your father soon.
I'm very lonesome for you and I wish you had not gone to that summer camp for girls, but Verna was insistent, so I allowed her to send you away for the summer.
I have not been feeling well at all but hope to be up and around soon. Verna takes very good care of me, brings me my medicine and reads to me at night when I can't sleep and all sorts of kind things of this nature. As I said, I hope to be up and out of bed very soon, very-likely by the time you receive this letter.
I'll have to stop this now as I hear Verna coming with my medicine, though I believe I have already taken my dosage for today. Write to me, honey.
Dad
Edy's face was twisted as she put the letter down. This was the first time she had received a letter from her father and she thought she knew why. Her stepmother had very-likely promised her ill father to mail the letters but had actually read them herself and burned them. What else could it be? Also, what about the few times Edy had written to her father this summer? What had happened to those letters? Her stepmother again. Her stepmother was an evil bitch and somehow Edy was going to take care of her, but how exactly she didn't yet know. There had to be a way.
"Lousy, dirty bitch," Edy muttered angrily. "I've got to go home right away. That damned medicine she's giving him it's more than-likely not medicine at all but some slow poison like arsenic." The more Edy thought about this the angrier she became and it was with great difficulty that she finally put the letter away in her purse and read the second one, her fingers shaking as she read.
Dear Edy:
Well, baby, I don't see any reason for us to fight and besides I have some things to tell you, by the way, so here goes.
First of all, let me tell you that I wish you were here in town, because, believe me, baby, I'd fuck that tight cunt of yours till blood ran out of it. Then I'd make you suck me off till your mouth became paralyzed. How would you like to have your cunt leaking blood at the same time your mouth got all stiff and everything?
I'd even tongue you off, baby, if you were here in bed with me. I'm writing this from bed. I mean, I'm in bed writing this. There. Got that straightened out. Oh, boy. Guess I got hot pants tonight. I'm very much in need and my old cock is as stiff as a hunk of lead pipe. Guess I'll have to jerk it off after I've written this letter to you. Maybe I'll spot the last page up a bit with my stuff how does that appeal to you? You could shove the page up your box and imagine it is my pecker.
Hey, this is kind of fun, writing this kind of stuff. Guess I'll do some more of it. While I'm writing it, I'll play with my peter and as you read the words you can picture how my cock looks, all stiff and red and with the skin stretched out. You know what my cock looks like, Edy baby. You know more about how my cock looks than anybody in the world except me. Of course I know more about it than you. I've been living with it longer.
Tell me something. As you read this, does your pussy get itchy to have my dink slip into it and pump?
Wow! That makes me hot, writing that last line.
Hey! Why don't you run away from that dumb camp and come home so Joey can fuck you?
Why don't you?
Come on, Edy, honey, get away from that dumb place. Come back to town and do NOT go to your stepmother's. Come to my place. If it's at night, tap on my bedroom window. If you arrive here during the day, call me up and I'll meet you somewhere with my car. We can drive into the country and fuck a few times before we decide on what you should do.
Oh baby, I'm so goddamned hot right now. I tell you. I could grab a bitch dog and fuck her.
(Edy's ears burned as she read this.)
I'm not kidding, Edy. I don't believe I've been this hot in weeks, not since you left for camp. Do you remember the last time I slipped it into you? We were parked in my car out at the edge of town, near that Sherman farm. I remember how I came right out and asked you if you'd rather fuck me or suck me off. You kissed my cheek and dropped your head in my lap, unzipped my fly and started to suck me off. Good, that felt good, the way your lips and tongue caressed me. Man, just thinking about it now makes me squirt a little which I just did, actually. I squirted and got my pajamas wet a bit. I'll have to wipe it up with some toilet paper. Excuse me a minute. (That's what you always say in your letters when you have to stop writing for a moment.)
Well, I got it wiped off. I blew off more than
I had thought. Whew, I was hot. I mean I am hot. I'm still hot as can be. If you were here ... but what's the use of talking about that you aren't here and it looks as if you won't be until Labor Day.
Don't ask me if I have some special information about the foregoing. I haven't. I'm just going by what you said in one of your letters.
Oh ... wish I had you here in bed with me, damn you. I'd fuck the life out of you ... I'd fuck you till you couldn't move.
Damn! I just squirted some more. Excuse me again, Edy, baby. More toilet paper is needed.
Hey, don't ever get mad at me again, baby. I promise, not to get mad at you, either, if you will me.
I just read over that last sentence. I hope it makes sense.
I'm not much for writing.
Guess you can tell that.
Trying to paragraph gets me all screwed up.
Where was I? Oh, I had just wiped up squirt number two. I sure wish you were here to ... lick it up with your lips instead of me using a dumb piece of toilet paper.
Is this too dirty for you, honey?
Gee, I hope not. All I can have with you now is to talk dirty in a letter. I sure can't get my cock into your cunt, can I?
Why can't you sneak away from that stupid camp and come home? I'll find a place for you to stay if you don't want to go to your stepmother's.
Your dad is awful sick, Edy.
I didn't want to tell you this, but he looks terrible. Your stepmother is with him all the time, though. I'll say that for her. She gives him his medicine a lot. I mean, I was there one day ... and saw her give it to him three times.
I don't know what medicine it is because she didn't have a doctor for him as far as I know.
I even asked your dad, when she left us alone for a moment, who his doctor was, and he said he didn't have one his doctor had moved out of town, or something.
Now ... don't go getting all mad at me. Your stepmother sort of crooked her finger at me. Dig?
It was just a piece of ass, baby. I figured your dad being sick and everything, he wouldn't care. Neither should you. Boy, this letter stinks.
Guess I'd better knock this off. You're probably so mad at me now you could kill me.
You'd better get home here and look after your dad.
That stepmother of yours, well, she's a bitch if I ever saw one.
No, I ain't going to say it. You'll have to guess what I've been talking about these past fifteen lines or so.
But I'll say this I think your stepmother wanted you in that camp all summer for reasons of her own. You figure it out, baby.
Lots of love and stuff, Joey
It was some time later that Edy took out her pen and paper and began to write a return letter.
Dear Joey:
Gee, honey, I was so glad to hear from you, but at the same time I'm all uptight about what you said about that old bitch and my father. Please, Joey. Please try and get a doctor to see him. I don't know how you'll do this, but maybe you can call the doctor and tell him to come to see your father, which will, of course, be my father and not yours. You'll have to figure out some way to get her out of the house, even if you have to knock her over the head, maybe. Now wait a minute. I don't mean that as I said it. I'm just trying to make you understand how serious I am about it. I want a doctor to see my father. That old bitch is poisoning him slowly, I know she is. I'm going to send this to you air mail so you'll get it sooner. If I could I would call you on the phone, but the only phone here is the one at the center of the camp and the head counselor would never permit me to use it after I gave her the rough talk recently. She is down on me but good, believe me. She hates my guts, so the phone call is out. Gee, I'm so worried about my father I'm almost out of my mind.
Get a doctor to see my father, Joey. I don't care how you do it, but do it.
And never mind about that piece-of-ass stuff.
It is early in the day and they don't pick up the mail until late afternoon, so I might as well write some more to you. I'll try to stay away from the subject of my stepmother and my father, but, gee, it's hard, honey, not to talk about it. I'm up here and all of a sudden I'm almost sick with worry.
I'll change the subject because I just have to, baby. Thinking about my father gets me down too much.
I know you'll get him a doctor. I just know you will, Joey. If you love me you will. Joey baby...
Oh, I forgot what I was going to say. I had to stop a minute and wipe my eyes. You know how I am about people who cry foolishly. Well, I just did. I cried like a damned baby, and foolishly.
Oh, I almost forgot I was terribly hurt for a few minutes when you told me in your letter that you had been screwing my stepmother ... and that she was the old broad you had been with for money.
Honey, I'm glad you did it for money.
Makes it seem better.
The old bitch.
God, how I hate that woman.
Oh, the hell with her, baby, just get that doctor for my dad.
I love you, Joey. I really do. I'm terribly sorry I've been unpleasant to you in some of my letters, but, baby, you don't know what it is to be stuck in this stupid girls' camp and not be able to ... do things with you, the sorts of things I was built for doing and I don't mean handball.
I wish I could kiss you, Joey.
I wish I could suck your cock.
I wish you could lip my cunt.
I wish we could go down on each other at the same time.
Goddamn that old bitch!
Please do what I asked you to do, honey, about my dad, I mean.
There. I won't say it again. I promise.
I love you.
Honest, I just love you to pieces, baby. Guess I always will.
If I had you here I'd give you the best fuck you ever had in your life. I would.
I really would, Joey.
You remember my talking about my roommate, Irma? Well, she's gone from the camp. The counselors came and got her about an hour, maybe two hours ago. They told her she was going home. Poor Irma, she wanted to kiss me good-bye but didn't dare do it in front of the counselors there were two of them, the head counselor, who doesn't like me at all, and another one, a flunky for the head and they wouldn't leave the cabin all the while Irma got her things together. She told me she would write to me for sure just as soon as she got home and I suppose she will, once or twice. I'll write to her probably and then one day both of us or one of us will decide there's not much point in keeping the acquaintance of a summer roommate and we'll stop writing. Gone. One friendship. It's kind of sad, Joey, to meet someone, to get to know them well, and then to be separated from them probably for the remainder of your life.
People are funny animals, baby.
Speaking of animals ... I'll have to tell you what happened to me at this camp ... one day ... I'll tell you ... not now, baby, not now.
Don't forget to get a doctor for my father, Joey. My God. . . please?
One of the counselors just came and told me to get ready ... that I'm leaving the camp as of this afternoon. Hey! Maybe I won't have to post this letter. Maybe I can be home before they pick up the mail.
I have no idea of why I'm leaving camp. With Irma they said her stepmother had ordered her to come home. (Oh, did I ever tell you? This summer camp is exclusive. No girls may come here except those who have stepmothers.)
Big deal.
I can't imagine my stepmother allowing me to come home. I wonder what she has up her sleeve, as my father used to say about my ... real mother. "Up her sleeve." What an odd expression. Wonder where it came from? Probably from the time when women hid things in their long sleeves. How about that for sheer brilliance? My answer, I mean.
God, Joey, I've missed you. It's going to be so wonderful to be home ... well, not be home ... it's going to be wonderful to be with my baby. I hope you've been saving all your steam for me. If I come home and find you've had so many girls this summer you have no room left for me, I'll just die, Joey.
Hey! I shouldn't have written that last bit ... just thinking about it as I read it over makes me feel low.
However, thinking about coming home to you makes me high, so it all evens out, Joey, darling.
Tell me something. Are you going to throw a big, fat fuck into me the moment we meet?
Boy, I hope so. I've been missing that long, hard prick of yours something awful. Believe me, Joey, it's been hell living in this stupid camp for girls. Awful damned kids, these girls. You should see them. I can even understand their stepmothers wanting to be rid of them for the summer.
My stepmother ... ha ... she's something else, the dirty old bitch. She sent me here to ... well, maybe I'd better not say that. I started to say so she could have a free hand with my guy. There, I did say it. Also, she wanted to get rid of my father. I can't prove this but my instinct tells me it's true.
Never mind, Joey. I'm not going to say it again. I'm not going to beg you to get a doctor for my ... but there, damn it, I did say it, didn't I? And after promising not to.
Joey, darling ... I can hear the counselor coming back for me. Wait a minute. I'm going to take a peek out of the cabin door.
Hey, Joey. You'd never guess who came here after me. Mr. Murray and Mr. Hart. Remember my telling you about them, about the fun I had with them? Well, the way they just explained it to me, they work for the camp. They take orders from the head. That's what they call the old biddy. The head. They're standing here letting me finish this letter to you. They say they will see that it is sent to you.
Funny thing about Mr. Murray and Mr. Hart, Joey baby.
Both of 'em are wearing some kind of white uniforms. They almost look like the "keepers" in a nut house. Keepers aren't supposed to take out their cocks in front of patients, are they?
Gulp! I have to stop writing now, honey. I got one cock in my mouth and another being rammed up my ass-hole. Wow, what a joint Camp
Deerwood has turned into.
* * *
Dear Edy:
I guess there is not much point in my writing to you again. My last three letters to you have been returned by some female doctor named Chisolm. She says no patient at Camp Deerwood is allowed to read letters these days. So ... you won't get this one, either, probably. Anyway ... I'm taking a chance and sending it to you. Dr. Chisolm can't do anymore than send it back to me. I'm getting along okay, just in case you do read this. Your stepmother is some hot piece of ass, believe me, I'm getting as much fucking as you are, I really am. Of course, I don't really believe you're getting as much as you say you are. Dr. Chisolm says all of the girls at the camp have sexual fantasies, and I suppose all the fucking you've been writing about is just in your mind. Anyway, if you do read this, try and smuggle another letter out to me.
That last one was a honey. Even though I couldn't believe a word of it.
Joey
By the way, this Dr. Chisolm tells me her maiden name was Horton and that you found out about it somehow and keep calling her that. She said she didn't know why.
