Camping – A Gay Teen Fantasy

Copyright, 2012, Patricia Steel ([email protected])

Do whatever you want with this story, only keep my name attached, please. Please report any and all orgasms arrived at through reading and masturbating to these words. I love knowing that I am deliberately manipulating your mind into an erotic state. Thanks, and Enjoy. This is FICTION, folks, and while it has its basis in reality, is not a true report of underage sex, or of underage persons watching other persons having sex. Please be adult enough, and responsible enough to understand the difference between the two.

When I was between the ages of 13 and 15, my parents would frequently go camping in the summer with one particular set of friends, who, I’d dare say were their best friends, overall.

I was an only child to my mother, and her husband, my stepfather. I think I enjoyed camping the most because it was a guarantee that even though he’d get really drunk, he wouldn’t beat either me, or my mom, with these friends around to see it.

They had a daughter about 17, and a son, about 19. It was the late 1970’s, so the boy had long, curly hair, seldom wore shoes or socks, or even a shirt or underwear.

Jeans were the wardrobe for just about every day…. jeans only… tight at the waist… although the waists were higher in those days than today. Still, on Kenny, he looked beautiful, all tan, smooth-chested, and having a 6 pak, even in those days. His long, curly brown hair hung down to his shoulders all the way around, and all he had to do was shake it in the morning, and he looked fine — fuck, he WAS fine.

Sometimes, I would bring along my, then, best-friend, whom we’ll call Mel. Mel was “out of the closet” with me, and we had “fooled around” a little in the past, but you wouldn’t call us “lovers” in any way, shape, or form. I had no idea “what” I was.. I didn’t consider myself “gay” back then, but I didn’t consider myself like everyone else, either. In truth, I didn’t know why I needed to “consider” myself at all. I still don’t, really.

Kenny had brought along his long-time girlfriend, Jean-anne. Jean-anne was a bitch, but Kenny was devoted, for the most part. She wasn’t pretty enough for him, was the general consensus. People used to say “she must have a golden pussy” for him to stay with her.

One night, it must have been really late, because my stepfather was in the tent, asleep, I woke Mel, and told him I had to go use the toilet, which was on the other side of the lake, and I wanted him to come with me. He grumbled, but he came with me.

Those old zippers were loud, but we managed them without waking mom or her drunken husband. Walking around the back of the tents, we came across Kenny’s and Jean-anne’s sleeping bag — there was no room in his parents’ tent for 5, and so they decided to sleep outside in a big sleeping bag. They weren’t sleeping though. I stopped, and watched, and put my glasses on… Mel ran into the back of me, and I told him to stop and watch, too.

There was Ken, leaning back on his elbows, with Jean-anne bobbing her head between his legs. His head was thrown back in ecstasy. We watched until he started bucking his hips into her face, and finally made a soft, quiet, sigh — not to wake the campsite — and evidently came in her mouth… At that, we hurried along our way, so as not to draw their attention. I wasn’t sure what the penalty for “watching” was — I had no idea if Kenny would mind or not, but I had a pretty good idea that Jean-anne, who was a bit of a bitch, in general, would probably have a shit fit about the whole thing…

We walked over to the toilets, and back — the whole thing probably took about 20 minutes, and then came back, being extra quiet as we neared the campsite once again… The fire was blazing brighter, and we could see easier… so we stayed back, still on the lake path, as we watched what was happening now. Kenny had her 2 hands behind her back, held together by one of his massive hands, and his other big paw was covering her mouth, keeping her quiet, I imagined, and he was pounding into her from behind, although it didn’t look like she was enjoying herself very much.

We moved down into the campsite, behind the tents, to get a better view, and we could see now, that he was actually pumping into her ass, and not her “golden pussy” at all. She basically screamed into his hand, and tried to get her hands free from his grip. She tried getting her ass away from his thrusting hips, but he kept advancing on her. There was no escape from him. I found this extremely erotic. The thought occurred to me “What I wouldn’t give to trade places with her right this minute”…

Finally, he pushed her down to the ground, but kept his hand over her mouth… they lay like that for a few minutes…. Mel and I retreated to the Lake Path, into the darkness, where we just stood and watched…

Eventually, Jean-anne pried herself loose from Kenny, and, finding her jean-shorts, and halter, stomped off towards the bathrooms, I guess to clean herself up a little. We thought we were concealed in the darkness, but as she passed where we were hidden, she turned towards us and yelled, “Fucking Faggots — go see HIM — he likes to fuck people up the ass!!”

“Oh, shit — we were busted”….. well… But Mel was pulling me back onto the lake path even further… a quarter mile around, away from all campsites, and he turned to me, and gave me a really nice, romantic kiss…. no tongues — we were just boys — but a kiss that ran all the way through me — I was still hard from watching Kenny and Jean-anne assfucking back at the campsite, so no problem there…

Mel dropped to his knees, undid my belt, and my jeans dropped to the ground. He pulled down my ‘tighty whities’ and took me into his mouth all in one motion….

I was never very long… about 6 inches, but I was always really big around… He had been trained in cocksucking by his older sister’s black boyfriend, who, he told me, was huge. When she was asleep, he’d come into Mel’s room, and get his cock sucked, because, well, Mel’s sister just didn’t do those things (at least not yet)… I could tell he had been well-instructed…. OH MY GOD — he made my cock feel so good… I wanted to “squirt” immediately, but that’s the problem when your best friend is sucking your cock — you don’t want the embarrassment of cumming too quickly, and so, I held off as long as I could, which wasn’t very long — maybe 3 minutes, tops… and, I couldn’t believe that anyone would do such a thing, but HE SWALLOWED IT ALL!!!! Did people normally do this?? It made me feel sooo powerful… So like a God…. yeah… the swallowing thing I liked a lot….

Then Mel said to me, “I want to do to you what Kenny was doing to Jean-anne.”

I was scared beyond belief… It must hurt, the way he had to put his hand over her mouth and all, of course, Jean-anne was a bitch, and a wuss, besides… and I was a guy, and I prided myself on being very pain-tolerant.

In response, I kicked off my sneakers, and tossed off my pants altogether, along with my shirt, and got on my knees.

Mel had saved some of the “goop” in his mouth, which he spit onto, and into (I hoped I wiped extra-clean at the toilets) my ass. I had seen him hard several times… he was not very long, or big around, so I didn’t think he would hurt very much, and I was correct… just a little pressure pain upon entry, which soon went away…

He started pumping at the rhythm which suited him best, and it felt kinda nice. —No, it felt fucking great — OK, maybe I was gay — did this make me gay?? oh who gives a shit… I liked dick up my ass, though, that’s for sure..

I started squeezing my sphincter muscle, and that immediately brought my best friend over the edge. He came inside me, and I could feel it as a slightly warm sensation. This was awesome. “Can you do this to me again sometime, Mel?”

“Sure, next time you sleep over.” He replied, catching his breath.

Getting dressed, we made our way back to camp. Kenny was covered to the waist with his sleeping bag, lying on his back, apparently asleep, so we tiptoed through camp to our tent front.

“Did you boys have a nice walk?” Kenny surprised me, talking in a low voice in the dark..

“Uh, Yeah, Kinda, Ken.” I stumbled out a reply.

“See anything interesting?” I thought for a moment how to answer that, and decided to be truthful.

“Yes, Ken, that we did. Sorry, didn’t mean to um.. whatever that’s called.”

“Be a peeping tom?? a Voyeur?? a couple of little perverts?”

“Yes, that’s basically it, Kenny.” [ok, maybe he wasn’t going to be cool with this afterall]

“Actually, guys, it kinda made it even hotter for me. It’s what pushed me over when she was givin me head. She does give great head, let me tell ya, but fucking her up the ass without her permission, and then holding my hand over her mouth was kinda a mistake.. still, when I saw you guys watching, I fucking shot cum up her ass, too. So, feel free to watch me anytime. I just won’t tell Jean-anne that you’re watching us in the future, though. She didn’t care much for that idea, either. But then again, she is a ranking bitch. You boys want a beer?”

“Um, sure, Ken, if you don’t mind?”

“Nah, I brought my own, so the old man can’t bitch about me drinkin’ his. They’re in the yellow cooler over there, grab yourselves each one, and come back and keep me company till she gets done shittin’ a brick. — Hey, at least I got her ass ready and opened up for the brick to come out, anyway…” and Kenny laughed out loud, and then remembered he had to be quiet.

We sat on a pile of leaves and grass, next to Kenny’s sleeping bag, and drank our beers (I never did acquire a taste for beer) while Ken told us funny stories associated with his sexual prowess. He showed us his cock, which was really quite impressive — hanging halfway to his knees. I’d say 10 inches or better, and almost as big around as our beer cans, and that was soft. He said one of the reasons he stays with Jean-anne is that she can deep-throat him. Not too many women can manage that, and “pardon me guys, I don’t know what you two have going on, here, but I’m not really into boys”. —We giggled at that, and thought he was extra -cool for being “fag-tolerant”

That camping trip stayed in my mind for quite a while, and every time Mel and I got together, we role-played “Kenny and Jean-anne” on his attic bedroom floor, with a sleeping bag.

Pathetic nerd-geek-boy-fags that we were.

Kenny died about 2 years ago, from some sort of “over the counter” and “prescription” drug interaction accident. I talk to his widow, who, THANKFULLY is not Jean-anne, and say, “I remember him fondly from my teens” — and she wonders why, I guess…