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Archive name: prepared.txt (mf, Girl Scouts)
Authors name: Jenny Wanshel (chilly2@biosys.net)
Story title : Be Prepared

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"BE PREPARED"
by Jenny Wanshel (chilly2@biosys.net)

The Dorothy Harrington Memorial Girl Scout Encampment 
is in theory miles and miles from anywhere else, up in 
the mountains. In actual fact when the Harringtons left 
the vast tract of forest land to scouting some of it 
went to the Boy Scouts, so there is a Boy Scout camp 
right down the road. 

For some reason the proximity of the two camps is not 
emphasized or even mentioned to parents, who might 
worry, I suppose. In any case there is a river, which 
you can clearly see on any map, separating the two 
camps. 

I have heard this river described as a "raging 
torrent". I suppose it may well be, during the spring 
runoff, but most of the year it is a narrow trickle 
running down the center of a wide sandy bed.  You can 
jump across it without getting your shoes wet, at some 
points.

Officially there is no connection between the two 
camps. They don't even acknowledge each other's 
existence. There are no jointly planned events, not 
even a dance.

Unofficially, however...

The question of the possible presence of boys nearby 
came up at a patrol meeting, while we were planning for 
our two week stay at scout camp. Amanda pulled out a 
badly xeroxed map of the camp area and marked the 
location of the boy's camp and the boundary between the 
two camps. 

"They're on the other side of the river," someone 
remarked. "Won't we-I mean they-need a canoe or 
something? If they wanted to come pester us, I mean."

"Ah yes, the "raging torrent". When I was there last 
year it dried up so much you could step across it. It's 
not much of a river. It's really more of a creek."

"Goodness! Then they could just come raid our camp 
anytime they wanted to, couldn't they?"

"Oh, it's a tradition. We always raid their camp on the 
first night, and then they raid us back."

"You mean, like a panty raid?"

"What's a panty raid?" Cecilia asked.

"Hush. No, it's more like they steal all the butter 
from the camp kitchen or something stupid like that."

How, and whether, there might be any interaction with 
the boys across the "river" was discussed at length, 
with Amanda assuring us that we would meet boys if we 
went; and since we were all definitely going, it was a 
good idea to be prepared.

At the next patrol meeting, the last one before we left 
for camp, Brenda reached into her backpack and pulled 
something out.

"Remember what you said about being prepared last 
week?" she said slyly. We looked at it, dumbfounded. It 
was a large box of condoms.

"I got these for the whole patrol. We can share. If 
anyone needs them, that is."

"Oh. My. God!" Susan and Darla squealed.

It was a measure of how little action Brenda imagined 
we might see that a single box of one dozen Trojans was 
supposed to last our entire patrol two weeks.

I rather expected that of the 12 condoms, 11 would 
still be left when we came home from camp-and the 
twelfth would have been blown up into a balloon and 
left in somebody's bed as a prank.

Darla and Susan both claimed that they had never even 
seen a condom before (hadn't they taken the same sex ed 
class I had?) so Amanda had to pull one out, open the 
tin foil pack and show them how it worked. Bunny went 
down to her Mom's kitchen to find a cucumber or banana 
and since neither could be produced she brought back a 
roll of frozen cookie dough, about 9 inches long and 3 
inches wide. 

"Okay, let's pretend this is the boy's penis," Amanda 
began.

Darla's eyes widened. Susan asked, "My goodness. Is it 
really that big?"

"No. Not unless the boy is Brad Dunleavy. Otherwise, an 
actual boy's penis is about half this size. We're just 
using this to demonstrate."

"That's good," Susan said solemnly, "because I know I 
could never get anything that big inside me." 

"You certainly couldn't", Amanda said. "That's why if 
you're out on a date with a boy and his thing is that 
big, you should immediately turn him over to Jenny and 
me."

Amanda gave me a big wink. She knew about me and Brad. 
She had been one of Brad's conquests herself. If 
conquests is the right word, since usually girls chased 
him and Brad just failed to run away very fast.

"Even something half that size...", Susan said 
dubiously, eyeing the kielbasa-sized tube of cookie 
dough and covering her crotch with her hands. "Will fit 
just fine. You'll see."

"Are you sure?"

"It opens up like a flower-pretty soon you'll be able 
to park a truck in there."

Gales of giggling as Susan looked mortally offended. 
"I know who can park a truck in hers," Bunny said 
slyly.

"Who?" Several minutes of vicious commentary about the 
alleged morals of girls not present and believed to be 
sluttier than us followed.

Eventually we got back to the condom demonstration.

"It rolls on like this, um, see-". It was really too 
small for the job and it broke.

"There," Amanda said. "Lesson One: It can break. Make 
sure it does not break when you do this with a boy, or 
you will be one pregnant and sorry Girl Scout."

"That reminds me of a rhyme I heard," Darla said.

"I met a boy, he sure was nice.  
He held my hand and he kissed me twice.
He kissed me good, he kissed me better. 
He reached right up underneath my sweater.
He touched my knees, he touched my thighs,
I gasped out loud and I shut my eyes.
I didn't say no, I didn't say maybe; 
And Ma, that's how I got this baby."

(That's as best as I can remember it, anyway.)

Another condom was tried-that left ten, which was still 
about ten times as many as I thought we needed-with 
better results. Amanda was able to roll it on 
successfully this time. 

"Here-this is all that stands between you and a baby," 
Amanda said, stretching the rubber taut.

"What if it breaks while we're doing it?"

"Half the kids in our school wouldn't be here if 
condoms didn't break."

Someone asked Brenda where she had gotten them and it 
turned out that since she didn't have the nerve to walk 
up to the drugstore counter and buy them (I know I 
blushed scarlet the one or two times I had done this), 
she had just carried a big purse with her and 
shoplifted them, while Cecilia acted as lookout.

Amanda suggested that next time they just ask her to 
buy them; she'd be glad to. 

"Don't they ask you for ID or something?"

"No. They don't care. I guess if you were 8 years old 
maybe they'd ask you if you were buying them for your 
mommy."

The question of which drugstore was the best place to 
go if you didn't want anyone you knew to see you buying 
embarrassing articles of personal hygiene was 
discussed. 

Actually, to this day I don't buy things like condoms 
or, god help me, vaginal yeast medication, in the 
neighborhood where I live. I'm too worried that one of 
the kids from the school where I teach will be standing 
behind me in line, and my presumed sexual habits would 
then become a hot topic of conversation in the school 
cafeteria.

Not that unmarried schoolteachers are expected to be 
virgins in these parts. Some teachers even brag about 
their latest boyfriends to the students, which is okay 
if you have braggable boyfriends. I'm afraid some of my 
little sexual escapades wouldn't stand much scrutiny. 
If you have a nice boyfriend who makes good money and 
takes you to Cancun for the weekend, that's one thing. 
If on the other hand, you just happened to be really, 
really horny one afternoon, and the batteries on your 
vibrator were going dead, and at that precise moment 
the UPS delivery man just happened to knock on the 
door.... 

All I can say in extenuation is that in a dim light, if 
you were a little drunk, the UPS man does look a little 
like Tom Selleck. And I don't usually get that horny. 
Hardly ever, really.

So, anyway, the condoms became the property of the 
patrol, and Amanda and I were put in charge of hiding 
them and smuggling them to camp, since we already had 
hiding places for our own birth control. 

The first hiding place I ever used was Barbie. Her head 
came off and you could put stuff in her hollow torso, 
although not much since she was so skinny. And I was 
pretty sure that Barbie was the last place my little 
brother would look if he was snooping in my room.

You couldn't store much contraband inside Barbie 
though-I wish they had made a extra large "Fat Camp 
Barbie" who had ballooned up to 300 pounds, because you 
could have put more stuff in her, but they didn't. I 
sometimes hid stuff under my mattress, like my copy of 
"My Secret Garden" and this copy of Playgirl that I 
found (and later got paranoid and destroyed-it wasn't 
enough to toss it in a trash barrel, I had to tear it 
up into little pieces and then scatter them in several 
trash barrels, after dark, skulking like a 14-year-old 
girl spy in pigtails. In retrospect I can't even 
imagine what I was thinking). Under the mattress was 
not a secure place since it was the first place anyone 
would look (it was certainly the first place I looked, 
when I snooped in my brother's room and found his 
secret cache of Playboys and an issue of Penthouse that 
really grossed me out).

We had storage space under the eaves on the second 
floor of the house and if you crawled way back in there 
there was a spot where the floorboards were loose and 
you could lift them up. 

Under the floorboards was insulation, and you could 
lift up a hunk of the insulation and bury something 
under it if it wasn't too big.  A dozen condoms, minus 
the two we had wasted showing Darla and Susan how to 
use them, would certainly fit. So I took them home with 
me and hid them, and Amanda agreed to smuggle them into 
camp with her camping gear.

If they were found I would just pretend I didn't know 
whose they were and look accusingly at my brother. 
Being a boy our parents probably wouldn't care if he 
was getting any. They'd probably be proud.

The day of the trip came and I passed the condoms on to 
Amanda, who made them disappear. She was good at that 
sort of thing. 

My dad gathered half of the patrol up in his car and 
drove us all to the rendezvous point where the bus was 
waiting. Cecilia sat next to him and flirted with him 
all the way there. Which made me want to pull out my 
Swiss Army knife and gut her like a trout. 

I suppose that was hypocritical of me since I was 
attracted to Susan's dad and flirted with him any 
chance I got, and I probably would have let him do me 
in a second if he had wanted to. But the fact that 
Cecilia obviously felt the same way about my dad did 
not make it okay. 

Susan's dad was an attractive, funny, young-looking 
man. I tried practicing my skills as a sultry 
seductress on him but he seemed oblivious when I 
squeezed in close and rubbed my breast against his arm, 
or when I stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek 
to thank him for some favor he had done. I don't think 
he was fighting the temptation to rip my Girl Scout 
uniform off and ravish my jailbait fanny-I think he was 
just immune to my charms. Maybe he was just too happily 
married to Susan's mom to notice.

Cecelia all too obviously had similar notions about my 
dad. I was glad when he dropped us off and left.

Our troop boarded a chartered bus which took us all the 
way up into the mountains upstate, and I am rather 
embarrassed to recall that we really did sing "99 
Bottles of Beer on the Wall" all the way through.

And so we arrived, just barely in time to miss lunch, 
at the Harrington Encampment, aka "Camp Winnemokee".

                      * * * 

We got placed in a cabin with a Senior Girl Scout named 
Sandra as our counselor. Sandra was 18 and was starting 
college in the fall. She was pretty lenient. Our troop 
leader was there too, staying in a cabin with the other 
troop leaders. 

After we got situated and fed in the mess house there 
was a great deal of work to be done. I got assigned to 
the latrine detail the first day.  This was an 
incredible stroke of luck-everybody has to pull latrine 
duty and I got to go down in the trench before it had 
been used, rather than after, which I hear is rather 
distasteful. 

Somebody had started the trench by making a cut with a 
backhoe, or something, and we had to get down there 
with spades and shovels and straighten out the sides, 
toss out the loose bits, and deepen it a little before 
it was used. So we spent a couple of hours tossing 
shovels full of dirt over the side of the trench. 
Occasionally one of the more butch counselors got down 
in the trench to help us deal with a rock.

It was a hot summer day and the sun beat down on us 
mercilessly. 

After the first hour we were sweating like pigs and our 
shirts were sticking to us. One of the older girls took 
her shirt off and then everybody did. There weren't any 
boys around to see so why not. It must have looked like 
one of those Womyn's Music Festivals. 

My bra was soaked, clinging damply to my tits. I didn't 
take it off. Mine were larger than the other girls' and 
I felt shy about exposing them. Somebody would have 
been sure to make wisecracks about a couple of loose 
boulders.

"What happened to the old latrines?" someone asked. 

Evidently the old cinder block latrine house at the 
other side of the camp had backed up and overflowed, or 
been shut down by the Board of Health, or both, so that 
we were reduced to crude makeshift field biffies worse 
than what you would find in a Boy Scout camp. All in 
all, pretty disgusting, and 4 out of 5 girls preferred 
to go in the woods.

Digging a ditch is hard work and when suppertime came 
around we had more appetite for the franks and beans 
they served in the camp mess hall than the food 
deserved. 

Afterward there was a ceremonial campfire circle when 
it got dark and we had a camp opening powwow. One of 
the counselors played guitar and we sang old beatnik 
hootenanny folksong standards like "Michael Row the 
Boat Ashore."

A peace pipe was passed around the circle but there 
wasn't anything burning in it because it's bad for your 
lungs. Later on though I believe some of the older 
girls went off in the woods and passed around a little 
pipe among themselves. 

It seemed like we had been up all night when we finally 
got to bed around 11. Sandra made us christen the new 
latrine before we went to bed. Another group of girls 
had been assembling nice splintery wooden seats with 
round holes in them while we had been sweating like 
coolies in the ditch, and they were ready to be used. 
Most of the girls wanted to go behind a bush in the 
woods rather than use those things, but Sandra 
explained to us that there was absolutely no going into 
the woods after sundown. Strictly forbidden. You could 
get lost in the woods and eaten by a bear or something. 

Later on after lights out she told us a spooky ghost 
story about a girl just like us who had unwisely gone 
out in the woods without her buddy, after dark. She 
thought she could walk 100 feet into the woods and then 
turn around and walk back. Surely she would see a faint 
light coming from the camp to guide her back.

When she turned around to head back she couldn't see a 
light. None at all. Nothing but pitch blackness. She 
could have yelled out a "hallo", or blown a blast on 
her whistle...but she hadn't brought her whistle with 
her and she felt embarrassed shouting. Camp was only 
100 feet away, she knew the direction. So she started 
walking.

They combed the woods for her for weeks but she was 
never found. Not a trace of her. They say her ghost 
haunts the woods, and you can sometimes see it flitting 
between the trees in the darkness, forever searching 
for her way back to camp. Shiver! 

We had uncomfortable camp beds and not enough blankets 
to keep out the night chill. I slept like a log the 
first night. The second night Amanda shook me awake 
around midnight and whispered in my ear that the raid 
on the Boy Scout camp was happening and did I want to 
come? I growled "no" and tried to go back to sleep but 
she dragged me out of bed and made me come along 
anyway. 

Well, obviously you have to wear your gang colors when 
raiding another gang's turf so she waited while I got 
into my G.S. uniform. We didn't wear our uniforms 
around camp much as a rule, except during formal 
ceremonies like bridging etc. 

Out in the parking lot near the road there were about a 
dozen girls assembled. Most of them were older than me. 
A girl named Shoshanna, whom I knew slightly, was the 
ring-leader. Shoshanna told me to go watch the troop 
leaders' cabin and warn them if anybody came out.

I stood watch for about 20 minutes and then a girl 
named Plum came to collect me-the troops were moving 
out. So I rejoined the group as they started hiking 
down the road.

The road led downhill through the woods. It was pitch 
dark-no street lights out there-but the sky was clear 
and the moon had risen, and there were about 10,000 
stars. We marched quietly down the macadam road in the 
darkness. Most of the road was lined with trees, but in 
some spots there were spacious, hilly meadows on either 
side of the road. 

It was a warm night in the foothills. It was as silent 
as a cathedral, except for the soft chirping of a 
million insects and the croaking of bullfrogs as we 
passed the pond. 

There was no traffic on the road, since there was 
nothing on the road except for the two camps and they 
were locked up for the night. We hiked two by two down 
the hill. 

I walked with Amanda and she told me in a whisper that 
Sandra had had an abortion, and other lurid gossip 
about various people around camp. 

I marveled at how many stars there were overhead. There 
seemed to be about ten times as many as there were in 
town. I could spot the Little Dipper and find Polaris 
but other than that I didn't know their names.

I could have oriented myself by the North Star if I had 
gotten lost, I suppose, but other than that I was 
completely deficient in sky lore. Later that summer a 
couple of parents took us out with a telescope for a 
star party and I learned to identify the summer 
constellations.

That star party was a memorable trip for me, by the 
way. We stayed out all night in pup tents on a hillside 
and cooked over an open fire.  I also had an encounter 
with a wolf-the two-legged variety, I mean.  Susan's 
dad was not interested in me, but that didn't mean all 
of the dads were immune to the lure of my bouncy young 
bottom.

Cassie's dad was a nice, ordinary looking guy who 
happened to be a school science teacher and an amateur 
astronomer. He was there with his wife and Cassie, of 
course, and our troop leader was there, so we were all 
adequately chaperoned. 

I got up just before dawn to go pee in the bushes. 

You weren't supposed to go pee alone, you had to use 
the buddy system.  I didn't want to wake the other girl 
in my tent so I went out alone and bumped into Cassie's 
dad, who was already up and around even though it was 
still dark, and he offered to come stand guard while I 
pee'd in the woods. 

So when I was done with my business there we were alone 
in the dark and he started saying something about how 
cute I was, and what a mature figure I had, and I 
started getting the idea. Since he smelled nice and I 
had woken up feeling a teensy bit horny I let him run 
with that line a little ways until he got the feeling 
that the feeling was mutual. 

He kissed me and I wound up unzipping him and feeling 
his man-sized prick while he rubbed my mound through my 
pajamas, and one of us orgasmed and it wasn't me, 
though I was pretty excited. When I got back to my tent 
the other girl was still asleep and I finished myself 
off with my finger inside my panties, stifling my moan 
of relief when it happened.

After that of course Cassie's dad wouldn't leave me 
alone and even made excuses to phone me at my house. I 
felt kind of trapped. I wasn't all that attracted to 
him; it had been just a spur of the moment thing for 
me. 

Finally we went to a motel and did it for 4 hours and 
he drove me home. 

I didn't see him again after that, except when he was 
with Cassie.  All of which is a story for another time. 
I felt deliciously wicked going to a motel with a grown 
man though.

Anyway, as I was saying before I interrupted myself, it 
was a beautiful starry night in the forest.

Even the creaking of a million insects was swallowed up 
by the immense black silence. It seemed to me that the 
hills were alive, and even the glittering starry sky 
seemed alive. We filed down the road quietly and as we 
approached the boundary of the boys' camp Shoshanna 
ordered us to be extra quiet and alert as we penetrated 
into enemy territory. 

Once we were on the boys' turf Shoshanna led us off to 
wait in the bushes while a couple of scouts went ahead 
to reconnoiter. Somebody had a bottle of peach schnapps 
and this was passed around and we each had a sip. It 
was thick and sweet and it made me feel a little warm.

The two girls who had been sent to scout ahead came 
back and reported that the way seemed clear, so we 
pressed on up the road to our destination, the entrance 
to the boys' camp. 

There was a big wooden sign arching over the road at 
the entrance grandly announcing "BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA 
/ SHOSHONE COUNCIL" with a picture of an Indian chief 
in his war bonnet holding a hatchet. 

We had three small buckets of paint and a couple of 
paintbrushes. Our mission: to deface this sign.

The portions of the sign we wanted to get at were a bit 
high up off the road and we didn't have a ladder. 
Somebody athletic had to scale the sign like a monkey. 

We found a trash barrel in the weeds and set it up next 
to one of the supports of the arch, and four of us took 
turns standing on it to climb up onto the sign.

A girl named Dovey was considered our best sign 
painter, so she took the can of paint and a brush. I 
held her by the waist so she wouldn't fall as she 
leaned out over the top of the sign, head down, and 
painted upside down. 

The Indian's hatchet was artistically decorated by 
Dovey with blood and gore, with large gobbets of blood 
dripping, EC comic book style, from his gory weapon.     

Shoshanna pronounced herself satisfied with this stage 
of the work and we climbed down. Meanwhile, two other 
girls had been rewording the lettering at the top of 
the sign. They must have been a lot more athletic than 
I was to get that high up on the arch over the roadway. 

They had carefully painted over part of the lettering 
in the sign, so that with a couple of little dabs of 
paint a B became a P and y became a g, and a couple of 
other letters were erased. 

"Boy Scouts" was now "P g S outs", and as one girl 
braced the girl with the brush to keep her from 
falling, a couple of new letters were lettered in. The 
sign now read "PIG SNOUTS OF AMERICA".

That was the front of the sign, facing the road. The 
first carload of boys to drive up the road in the 
morning would discover it. We placed the trash can in 
the middle of the road, under the sign, as a roadblock. 

Darla painted a pictographic representation of a Girl 
Scout on the trash can, a stick figure with a 
triangular skirt, two round circles for boobs and a 
Girl Scout cap perched on her curly hair, with a smily 
face. Under the picture she painted the Girl Scout 
trefoil and the cryptic letters CWWH, which stood for 
"Camp Winnemokee Was Here".

Then we tidied up and marched home, pleased with our 
night's work.  We were a bit exhausted the next day, 
but thankfully there were no more latrines to dig.

At dinner the camp director made an arch little 
reference to somebody "decorating" the B.S. camp (who, 
us?). We looked back with blank faces.

That night there was a retaliatory raid by the boys. 
They somehow broke into the storeroom and made off with 
our entire supply of toilet paper.

They left a little calling card sign of their own but 
it was apparently mildly obscene and had been covered 
up before I got a chance to see it.

It was a Sunday and the stores in the nearest town were 
closed. Somebody had to drive 36 miles in the jeep and 
buy out all the toilet paper on the shelves at the 
nearest open general store, and the cheers when the 
jeep got back, from girls who had been holding it in 
until the toilet paper arrived, were loud.

As soon as we got a chance to go hiking without a 
counselor we crossed over to the boys' side of the 
river to spy on them.

                     * * * 

Two Boy Scouts were pissing behind a tree. Neither was 
particularly distinguished in his manhood but I don't 
think Beth had ever seen a boy's thing before-at least 
a boy that was big enough to fuck her.  Beth was a 
virgin.

"Oh my god-you can see their wieners," Beth whispered.

"Here." I passed her the field glasses so she could get 
a better look. 

Beth's mouth hung open slightly as she watched the two 
boys urinate.

Finally they zipped up and the show was over.

"Let's follow them," she said as they hiked down the 
trail.

"If you want to see some boys, I know a really good 
spot where we can spy on them," I said. 

I hadn't been there yet but a Senior Girl Scout from 
another troop had marked the spot on my map. It took us 
nearly an hour of scrambling through the hillside 
thickets until we emerged, slightly scratched and 
muddied but triumphant, on a bluff overlooking a 
mountain pool that was the boys' swimming hole.

We peered out cautiously from behind the bushes and 
there they were: 

below us at least a dozen Boy Scouts were skinny-
dipping in the pool.

"Eep!" Beth said. I pulled her back and put my hand 
over her mouth.

"Hush! Do you want them to hear us?" I whispered in her 
ear. 

"We need some camouflage. Come here and help me." We 
cut some slender branches from the nearby bushes with 
my Swiss Army knife, which Dad had so nicely given me 
for my birthday-my favorite gift-and wove them together 
to make a little makeshift screen. 

We then belly-crawled back to the edge of the bluff, 
keeping the leafy screen in front of us, and peeked 
through the twigs and branches at the boys below.

The boys were completely oblivious to our presence. 
They were as naked as jaybirds. They were splashing and 
cavorting in the cold mountain water, and climbing up 
on the rocks to jump back in. I saw as much naked boy 
flesh in five minutes as I had seen before in my life, 
and I wasn't a virgin like Beth. 

Beth was riveted. She had the field glasses and every 
time a boy would climb out of the pool and expose his 
taut, pale little butt the glasses would slowly track 
him. She bit her lip in excitement and breathed faster 
when a boy turned around and exposed his penis before 
diving back into the pool. 

I had seen naked boys before-boys had even stripped for 
me at my request. (Or at least Robert Miller had). None 
of these boys had anything that would embarrass a 
horse. In fact you could stack all 12 of them together 
and not embarrass a horse. I suppose shrinkage must 
have been a factor-that cold mountain water probably 
didn't let them display to their best advantage. 

Still, my breathing was coming faster too, and I wanted 
Beth to stop hogging the binoculars. I had been skinny-
dipping myself a couple of times with boys and a couple 
of other girls, but because we were spying on them from 
hiding this was a lot more exciting. 

As each boy climbed out of the water and his wet skin 
gleamed in the sun, I felt my pulse quicken at the 
display of bare male buttocks, long legs and wiry young 
muscles. None of them was Playgirl material, but some 
of them were rather handsome.

One boy in particular impressed me. He was tall, with 
brown eyes, a firm jaw, wavy brown hair pasted back 
against his skull by the water, broad shoulders, and a 
torso that tapered down to his slim hips. He had 
strong, powerful-looking thighs and I could imagine 
what they would feel like hugging them between my 
thighs. 

I pressed my thighs together tightly to squeeze my 
pussy. No hands required. I gave myself a series of hot 
little squeezes while I watched the boy I admired shake 
his golden body in the sun.

From the way Beth was breathing I imagined that her 
nipples must be as hard as mine and the crotch of her 
panties getting a bit sultry. 

I wondered what would happen if these naked young 
studlings caught us spying on them. I imagined us 
surrounded by naked boys, their dicks slowly 
lengthening as they licked their lips and appreciated 
their two pretty Girl Scout captives. They would force 
us to take our clothes off-we would have no choice but 
to comply, of course-and we would shiver in our bras 
and panties trying to cover ourselves with our hands, 
as our Girl Scout uniforms came off. And then...

Well, of course, there was really no danger of us 
getting caught and unwillingly gang-banged. If they 
spotted us, which could happen at any moment if one of 
them happened to look up and saw the sun reflecting off 
the field glasses, all that would happen is that there 
would be a shout and we would run like hell. And it 
would take them 10 minutes to climb up that bluff and 
we would be long gone. 

In fact, I thought that if they knew girls were spying 
on them they would grab their clothes and run as fast 
as they could in the opposite direction, mortified that 
Girl Scouts had seen their little swinging penises. And 
then they would post a guard the next time they went 
skinny-dipping.

I was sorely tempted to shout "Yoo-hoo! Boy Scouts!" 
and wave at them just to watch them run. But that would 
have ruined it for the other girls who knew about this 
spot.

"What do you think of that boy?" Beth said, pointing to 
a boy who had just climbed out and was laying on a rock 
to sun himself. 

I borrowed the field glasses-they had to be pried out 
of her grasp-and took a closer look. He was slim and 
blond, with straight hair. Not as tall as the boy I 
liked. 

"He's cute," I whispered. "You like him?" 

"Yes, I do believe I fancy him a bit." 

"I like that one-over there-see? Splashing that other 
boy?"

I had to pass her the glasses back. 

"Oh, he's nice. He's a really big boy isn't he?" (She 
was referring to his height, not his dick size-sorry 
readers).

"He's such a hunk." As we watched he climbed out onto 
the rocks and you could see his firm manly buns. 
"Omigod, check out his ass." 

"That is a very sexy bottom he's got, isn't it," she 
said. I was pretty sure she didn't know what a boy's 
ass felt like. I'd had my fingernails digging into a 
few, although it was only a few at that stage in my 
life.

"I can't believe you can see their peter and 
everything!" she whispered, as my favorite turned 
around and displayed his. 

"Well, those aren't much. But they're all shrunken up 
because the water is so cold."

"Goodness! Are they normally bigger than that, then?" 
I giggled.

"Heh, about twice that big I'd say. I've only seen a 
few of course (ahem) but I'd guess they'd be bigger if 
they weren't in that water."

"I wish we could see them when they were, um, you 
know...hard," she whispered, blushing.

"Have you ever seen a boy with an erection?"

"No."

"Well, you could, you know. If you got that boy with 
the blond hair alone I guarantee he'd show it to you if 
you asked."

"Oh, stop it!", she giggled. "I'd die! Goodness, I'd 
have to have sex with him then, wouldn't I."

"Well, you could just say "Hmmph! I've seen bigger," 
and walk away.

And then he'd probably spend the rest of his life in 
therapy."

"Well, I wouldn't say that. I've never seen one at 
all."

"I know. Remember, everyone had to answer that question 
when we were playing Truth or Dare?"

"Omigod yes, and then Susie said-"

"-the only man she had ever seen with an erection-"

"-was her Dad! Omigod!"

"And Brenda said-"

"How big was it?"

"Omigod! I couldn't believe it!" 

"And then Susie said "This big!" and I held my hands 
about 6 inches apart the way Susie had.

"And Brenda said-"

"Oh, my Dad's is bigger!"" we chimed in chorus.

"I can't believe it!"

"Omigod, yes, wasn't that a scream!"

We giggled uncontrollably at each other and then we had 
to shush ourselves, hoping the boys didn't hear. They 
were making too much noise shouting and laughing at 
each other to hear us. 

After a while the boys got dressed and hiked back to 
their camp, and we returned to ours, pleased that we 
had spied on them without getting caught.

                   * * * 

That night I lay in my camp bed in the darkness for 
what seemed like an eternity. Beth and I whispered back 
and forth between our beds and other girls kept 
shushing us, but I don't know why. I'm sure they 
weren't going to sleep either. Finally, a hand tapped 
me on the shoulder and startled me fully awake. I had 
been drowsing off to sleep. It was Amanda, and she was 
rousing everyone who was sneaking out.

"Get dressed. Don't put on any lights," she whispered. 
Then she moved on to Beth's bed and told her the same 
thing.

We got our clothes on and followed her outside, 
following her silently single file to the edge of the 
camp and then down the trail into the woods. 

It was inky black darkness inside the woods. As soon as 
we were away from camp Amanda pulled out a big 
flashlight and shone it ahead of us to illuminate the 
trail. It was spooky as hell to see the darkness all 
around us and the one little circle of light on the 
trees in front of us. 

The limbs of the trees overhung the trail thickly and 
reached out at us like skeletal hands. The flashlight 
cast eerie shadows into the branches wherever it shone.

The dirt trail was well worn; people had ridden horses 
through there and it was beaten down hard. It led 
gently down the side of the hill, into the shadows.

It was as quiet as death. The air was still and there 
was no rustling of the leaves. You could hear the 
occasional hoot of an owl in the darkness, and the soft 
droning whisper of a million insects in the distance.

Halfway down the hill we ran into another patrol and 
scared the daylights out of them. They were headed down 
to the river crossing to fraternize with the boys too. 
Night maneuvers. Heh.

When we got down to the river crossing Amanda paused to 
pass out the condoms, one to each girl. 

"You don't have to use it," she said. "It's just in 
case."

"I'm not going to need mine," Darla said.

"Take it anyway."

As advertised, the river had shrunk to a trickle in the 
summer heat.  We walked across the wide, sandy bed in 
the moonlight and found stepping stones to cross the 
narrow stream. Darla fell in up to her knees and her 
shoes made a wet squishing sound when she walked for 
the rest of the night.

As we approached the boys' side I thought I heard male 
voices, but I couldn't tell where they were coming 
from.

We went about a quarter of a mile into the woods on the 
boys' side, pitch black except for the circle of light 
from Amanda's flashlight, before a boys' patrol 
intercepted us.

"Omigod," Beth whispered in my ear, holding my hand and 
clinging to me.

Amanda seemed to know one of the boys and she went over 
and spoke to him quietly for a couple of minutes, while 
the rest of us huddled nervously a good 20 yards down 
the trail from the boys. We could barely make them out 
at the edge of the darkness. They might have been cute, 
or maybe not.

Amanda came back and spoke to us. 

"It's okay. They're going to take us over to where 
everyone is hanging out. Just follow me."

We hiked a mile through the woods following the boys, 
who stayed just ahead of us. Eventually they led us out 
into a pretty little moonlit clearing in the woods. 

There must have been at least 35 boys and girls there, 
hanging out in little clumps of five and six. Somebody 
had a keg and there was a tape player playing music, 
but not too loud. The woods seemed to swallow up the 
sound.

I talked to the pimply faced boy who was managing the 
keg and got cups of warm beer for me and Beth. We sat 
on a rock at the edge of the clearing and sipped our 
beers thoughtfully. Amanda and Brenda were talking 
loudly with a group of four boys and a girl I didn't 
know, and they were laughing a lot. 

After a while Brenda came back and said that they were 
going to smoke pot with the boys and did we want to 
come. Beth looked at me and I looked at Beth and I said 
no, so Brenda went back to her group and they sloped 
off into the woods where they could smoke in privacy.

"This is boring," Beth said after we sat in silence for 
a few minutes.

"This is going to be the most exciting night of your 
life," I said, in the voice I used when I was imitating 
Amanda. "Let's go meet some of these boys."

A couple of boys had been lurking about 20 feet away, 
pretending not to notice us, and I decided to start 
with them so we walked over and introduced ourselves. 
Just that simple, although Beth's voice was quavering 
and so faint you could barely hear her. I felt kind of 
nervous myself.

"So, like what school do you go to? Mid-Valley? Do you 
know Dan Reynolds?" Et cetera; that sort of small talk. 
It was just an excuse to check them out and let them 
check us out, and after a while I decided we should see 
what else was available so we excused ourselves and 
moved on to attach ourselves to another group of kids.

"Oh look-a shooting star," Beth pointed.

"Where?" I missed it, as usual. 

A couple of tall boys walked over to us.

"Hey, is there a meteor shower tonight? Beth says she 
just saw one."

The boys craned their necks to look, and one of them 
thought maybe he had heard something about a meteor 
shower, maybe. So we spent about 10 minutes pretending 
to look for meteors to cover the fact that we didn't 
know what to say, but it gradually came out that their 
names were Chuck and Henry (aka Hank).

Neither of them was particularly bad looking. In fact 
they were kind of cute. They were a bit on the shy side 
and I suspected it must have taken all of their 
courage, possibly accelerated by a few pints of beer, 
to come over and speak to us.

Beth and Hank were having a slightly technical 
conversation about the constellations and what time of 
year you could expect the Perseid meteor shower that I 
could not follow. Chuck couldn't seem to make up his 
mind what to say to me so I asked him about his merit 
badges, which led into a discussion of some fine points 
of woodcraft lore, and he got me another cup of beer.

While he was gone I got Beth's attention and gave her a 
quizzical look. She was having a hard time tearing her 
attention away from Hank.

"Hank, can I talk to Beth for a minute?" I asked. I 
pulled her off to one side and asked her if she wanted 
to keep hanging out with these boys or if she wanted to 
move on and meet some others.

"Oh, I think I like Hank," she whispered in my ear.

"Okay. Well, do you want to, you know...go somewhere 
more private, maybe?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said, after a long pause. "What 
do you want to do?"

"Oh, I don't know," I said. "Let's play it by ear."

When Chuck came back with our beers I suggested we go 
for a walk in the woods and see if we could spot any 
deer. The boys had a light and by shining it into the 
darkness maybe we could see the eyes of a deer or 
raccoon reflecting the dazzle of the light.

So the four of us trooped off down a trail into the 
trees and started exploring. The boys managed to catch 
an owl in the light of their flashlight before it flew 
off in a flurry of wings. We wandered about for a 
little while, Beth and Hank following absent-mindedly 
behind carrying on their quiet little conversation and 
completely unaware of Chuck and me.

We came to a snug little patch of clear, dry ground 
bordered by big rocks. I suggested that Beth and I 
might want to sit down and rest, and I made sure that 
bashful Chuck sat down next to me with his arm around 
me. 

Chuck switched off his flashlight and there we were in 
the dark. It was a warm summer night in the forest, 
lonely and silent, pitch black except for the bright 
stars shining in the cold distance of space a few 
trillion miles over our heads.

I let my hand intertwine with his, and he squeezed it. 
I couldn't see what Beth and Hank were doing, if 
anything. I could see a dark mass moving toward my face 
and I realized that it was Chuck's head and that his 
face was only a few inches from mine. I guessed that 
maybe he wanted to kiss me and I brought my face close 
to his until I could feel his hot breath on my cheek, 
and then our foreheads banged together and I muttered 
"ouch!"

"Are you okay?" Beth whispered to me from a few feet 
away.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just bumped my head."

I took my glasses off and tucked them away in my pouch. 

I snuggled in close to Chuck and felt the heat of his 
tall strong body. He put his arms around me and his 
head gently came down again to find my lips, and this 
time he hit the mark. His lips touched mine delicately, 
just like the brush of a butterfly's wing, and then I 
softly rubbed my lips against his, just so you could 
barely feel it.

He gently nipped my upper lip between both of his and 
let go, and I did the same to him. Gradually our lips 
came closer and closer and our kissing got moister and 
moister until I opened my mouth and his tongue slipped 
in.

He clutched me tighter and I rolled into him and 
pressed my breasts against him. His hand stroked my 
back and touched my wavy chestnut hair.

We necked hard and after a little while I felt his 
hands reaching for my big soft breasts, and cupping 
them through my shirt. 

Without ever taking my mouth off his I unbuttoned my 
shirt so he could reach inside. 

I felt his hands clamp gently onto the big round cups 
of my bra.  Through the cotton I could feel his hot 
palms on my nipples. They started growing hard. 

He squeezed and palpitated my breasts gently and my 
tits felt tingly and swollen. My taut nipples strained 
against the inside of my bra. 

I got my shirt down the rest of the way and reached 
behind with both hands to unclasp my bra. Chuck made a 
little grunt of surprise or satisfaction when he 
realized that I wasn't pushing him away, just making 
things easier for him. I got my bra unhooked and pulled 
it off and let my tits swing free.

Chuck took one in each hand and lifted them like he was 
hefting the weight, and then his hands stroked over 
them gently, touching every inch of my breasts and 
lightly brushing over my hard nipples.

I knew that Beth and Hank were only about six feet away 
and I wondered how they were getting along, or if they 
were watching us, or what.  It was pitch black but even 
in the dark it must have been obvious that Chuck and I 
were making out hard.

Chuck put his lips on one of my nipples and sucked it. 
And then he did the other one. My nipples were tingling 
like they were on fire. I was excited, and the thought 
that Beth was possibly getting her nipples sucked too 
only a few feet away made it more exciting.

I got my hands into Chuck's uniform shirt and felt his 
strong chest muscles. I unbuttoned his shirt and 
touched his smooth skin.

He kissed me and I could taste my breasts on his mouth.

I got my arms around his back and pulled him to me and 
he mashed his strong chest against mine. My nipples 
rubbed his chest.

Chuck's hands slipped down and touched my skirt. Then 
they slipped down further and found the hem.

I was kissing him hard and I didn't give him any signal 
to stop.

His hand slipped up under the hem of my skirt and crept 
as soft as a cat up my bare leg. He found the little 
white cotton triangle of my panties between my thighs.

As his fingertips gently pressed my panties I felt them 
slide slickly along my lips, and I knew I was damp. 

One finger accidentally brushed the tip of my clitoris 
and I moaned softly into his mouth.

I tried to remember where I stuck that condom.

He insinuated a finger between my thighs and slid it 
softly along my groove. My thighs opened a little wider 
for him.

He pulled my panties down. I lifted my ass up off the 
ground to let him.

He sucked my nipples while his fingers found my clit. 
It stuck out hard and he flicked it gently from side to 
side.

I spread my legs wider for him.

His head wandered down my breasts, across my belly and 
under my skirt, and then I got a big surprise. He 
kissed my pussy.

I had read about this in books but no one had ever done 
it before.

His tongue licked up one side of my labia and down the 
other. 

He was doing cunnilingus on me.

I thought this was something older, divorced women with 
money hired gigolos to do to them.

I never expected a boy my age to do it to me for free. 
Without even being asked(!).

His big wet tongue licked up one side of my labia and 
down the other.  Over and over, with a regular, steady 
stroke. Sometimes it just barely grazed the side of my 
clitoris and sometimes it didn't.

Omigod, it was great. It was worth paying a gigolo for. 
I was definitely going to do this again.

My pussy lips were hot and swollen. He never took his 
mouth off them, caressing them with his hot tongue.

"Oh god, Chuck, that's incredible. Don't ever stop," I 
whispered. I don't know if he could hear me with my 
thighs clamped around his ears.

I heard a rustling sound and someone was touching my 
elbow. It was Beth.

"Are you all right?" she whispered.

"Oh yes. I'm in heaven."

"Where's Chuck?" It was pitch dark and she couldn't see 
him.

"Chuck is doing cunnilingus on me," I informed her. "It 
feels really good, too. How are you making out with 
Hank?"

I stroked Chuck's head as it bobbed between my knees. 
He kept licking me and never paused.

"We, um, you know. He sucked on my breasts."

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah, it was nice. I don't know what to do, Jenny. He 
wants to, he wants to, um..."

"How far did you go?"

"Just second base."

"Do you like him?"

"I think so."

"Let him have third base. Take your panties off and 
give it to him."

"Okay. Thanks Jenny."

Chuck's tongue stroked along the sides of my clit more 
insistently now, and my clit got very tender and curled 
up into its hood to escape his probing. My vagina was 
throbbing hot.

I lay back and closed my eyes and thought of 
England...no, just kidding.  I thought about how 
incredible his tongue felt on my pussy and how 
unbelievably hot and tense my pussy felt and how I 
could really use a good orgasm. A good hard one....

I let my mind float away as the tension built higher 
and higher. His strong tongue stroked my cunt again and 
again.

I stroked his hair. "Keep doing that, Chuck," I 
whispered.

At last I felt like I was going to burst. I felt like I 
needed to pee and I had to let go. 

There was a throbbing sensation in my clitoris.

"Don't stop!" I whispered urgently. "Oh please don't 
stop Chuck, please don't stop!"

I felt his strong, clever tongue stroking up the length 
of my hot labia...and then I blew up. My cunt erupted, 
my legs clamped around his head hard and I whispered 
"Don't stop now! Don't stop!" in a whisper that turned 
into a quiet shriek. My cunt felt like it burst, and I 
shivered from head to foot.

An intense wave of heat surged through me, shaking me 
like an earth tremor. My cunt throbbed and throbbed. 
After about 10 seconds I had to pull his head away from 
my cunt to make him stop tonguing me; I couldn't take 
any more. It felt wonderful.

"Jenny, are you all right?" Beth whispered. She and 
Hank had stopped whatever they were doing and were 
murmuring between themselves. 

"Yes, I am very fine, thank you," I whispered back. Had 
I made a noise or something? 

I lay back and Chuck crawled forward until we were face 
to face again and cuddled me. I smelled my cunt all 
over his face and licked his cheek to taste myself. 

"That was wonderful, Chuck. No man ever did that to me 
before."

"Thank you," he said. Thanking me?

Where had he learned to lick pussy like that, I 
wondered. "Where did you learn to do that?"

"Ah, I can't tell you. Just, um, you know. Girls."

I would hope so. 

Chuck took my hand and held it down between his legs so 
I could feel his erection.

I felt up and down his skinny, rock-hard, circumcised 
length, through his pants. 

"Do you want to do something to me now, Chuck?" I 
whispered.

"Yeah."

"Here, use this." I hunted around in the dirt trying to 
find my pouch and get the condom out of the pocket.

"It's okay, I have one," he said. I heard his pants 
unzip and then he was hopping around in the dark trying 
to get them off.

At last he got completely naked. I gracefully removed 
my skirt and spread my legs. It wasn't long before I 
felt something hard pressing against my pussy.

I reached down to grab him and guide him in. His dick 
was neither particularly large nor very small. It was 
extremely rigid. I guided it into my channel and he 
started working it up into me. 

He licked and nibbled on my breasts while he worked the 
first inch or so in and out of my cunt. After a while 
he let it slide in deeper and I sighed. He gave a few 
short strokes and a few deep long ones, back and forth 
like that. I was breathing hard, and he slid deeper 
into me, and just as I was beginning to enjoy it he 
shot his wad. 

One minute he was humping me hard and the next he 
collapsed panting on my chest. 

"Did you come?" I whispered. 

"Yes. Did you?"

"I came like a house on fire when you used your mouth 
on me. You were great."

He cuddled up next to me and sort of zoned out. Next 
thing I knew, Beth was whispering at my elbow again. 

"Jenny, are you there?"

"Yes." 

"I think we're going to try to do it! But the condom 
broke."

"You can have mine." I reached around until I found my 
shirt and handed her my condom. 

"Thanks!" Beth scooted away in the darkness and after a 
little while I heard her whimpering and ouching. She 
was a virgin and it was her first time.

"Oh...right there...please...ow...slow 
down...yeah...it's okay...go ahead, just go slow," I 
heard her whisper in her soft little voice.

I wondered whether Chuck was listening to Hank 
deflowering my friend too, or if he had fallen asleep.

I heard Beth gasp "oh holy god!" I don't think she was 
having an orgasm, I think that was the sound she made 
when Hank opened her up and broke the seal.

Beth moaned softly.

My arm was lying in their direction and I felt Beth's 
hand find mine and squeeze it. I squeezed her hand 
back.

It didn't take Hank long to finish. We all lay there 
for a while, me basking in a very pleasing sort of 
post-orgasmic bliss, until I heard someone blow three 
short blasts on her Girl Scout whistle.  It was Amanda 
hunting for us.

"We have to go, Chuck."

He roused himself enough to start getting his clothes 
on. Beth had heard Amanda's whistle too and was getting 
her clothes on. 

Chuck found his flashlight in the dark and led us back 
to the clearing.

Beth and I hung back and let the boys go ahead, and I 
gave her a tight hug.

"Oh, Beth!" I said.

"Oh, Jenny!"

"Was it okay?"

"I don't know."

"It gets better," I said.

We got back to the clearing and the boys said goodbye. 
I wondered if Hank would be boasting that he had popped 
a Girl Scout's cherry when he got back to his cabin. 

A group of girls was getting ready to go back. Some 
looked like they had been rolling around in the bushes 
like Beth and I had, and some looked like they had had 
too much to drink or smoke, and some looked like they 
hadn't even been spoken to by a boy and had been bored 
out of their minds.

"Did you have a good time?" Amanda asked. 

"I think so," Beth said. I could tell she was bravely 
holding back her tears.

"Yes," I said. I was thinking of the little piece of 
paper I had in my pouch pocket with Chuck's address on 
it. He sure had liked sucking on my tits, so I thought 
he might like to see me again, if we could figure out a 
way to get together. He lived about twenty miles from 
where I did.

A week later we went back home. Beth inherited all the 
unused condoms that were left over, since she was going 
to need them now that she was an ex-virgin.

Dad met us in the parking lot where the bus let us off.

"Did you girls have a good time?"

"Yeah, Dad."

"We had a wonderful time, Mr. Wanshel," Cecilia cooed. 
She looked up into his face with her big baby blue 
eyes, leaned provocatively against his new car, and 
touched his forearm flirtingly with her fingertips. The 
slut.

"Jenny," Beth whispered to me, "how are we going to see 
Hank and Chuck again?"

I was trying to figure out that one too.

Jenny Wanshel <chilly2@biosys.net>

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 12