Arden and Gloria - A Summer Camp Romance

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | Epilogue

Chapter Two


The next morning Amy insisted that Gloria do pottery with her, and then laughed when clay got all over both of them. Amy secretly made the rough likeness of an erect penis, and laughed as she showed the slick, wet thing to Gloria.

"That's terrible!" squealed Gloria.

"They're not terrible at all," said Amy, her voice low. "You should try it. It's fantastic."

"Not on your life!" yipped Gloria. "You shouldn't be doing it either, you slut!"

"I'm not a slut," said Amy, with no trace of discomfort. "I just know what I like, and I like a nice hard dick way up inside me, that's all."

"Yeah, right," scoffed Gloria. "Until you get pregnant."

"You don't get pregnant if you plan things right," said Amy, looking around. "My sister and her husband wanted to have a baby and it took them six months! And they were trying!!"

"I'm not ready for that," said Gloria firmly.

"Girl, looking at how you've grown in the last year, your body is saying something completely different," laughed her friend. She leaned closer. "Mike and I are going to sneak off and do it tonight, after campfire."

"You're insane!" moaned Gloria.

"Nope," said her friend, mashing the facsimile penis into a round lump of clay. "Just horny."

In the afternoon, Gloria sat with a bunch of other girls and made friendship bracelets, with beads. It was comfortable sitting around, just talking about whatever. A shadow fell over her, and she looked up to see Arden standing over her.

"No canoeing today?" he asked.

"How does he do this to me?" she wondered, as her heart fluttered. He was just a boy. Why did she feel so awkward and ... goofy when he talked to her?

"Maybe tomorrow," she said, swallowing to get her dry mouth to work.

"It's a date," he said softly.

When he left, the girl next to her leaned over. "He's cute!" she whispered.

Gloria looked at her.

"Yeah," she said, uncertainly. "I guess he is."

"He likes you," said the girl. "I can tell."

"No he doesn't," was Gloria's automatic response. "He's like, sixteen or something."

"If you don't want him, can I have him?" asked the girl, giggling.

Gloria felt something tighten inside her. She wasn't aware that it was jealousy. She'd never been jealous, to her knowledge, in her life. It felt like what happened when her brother got to do something she wasn't allowed to do.

"Whatever," she said, going back to braiding the thread that would become her bracelet.

Gloria watched as her best friend, and Mike, slipped away from the camp fire at the conclusion of the festivities. Everyone was supposed to be going back to the cabins. It was half an hour before lights out, though that often got pushed back another half hour because the kids wouldn't settle down.

Gloria looked around, and drifted toward where Amy and Mike had disappeared into the darkness. She tried to be nonchalant about it, and tried not to get involved in any conversations. Eventually, she found herself on the fringes of the crowd that was slowly moving toward the trail back to the cabins. Looking around, and feeling guilty, she ducked behind a tree, and then faced into the woods. She'd walked around in these woods for years, and knew all the different unofficial paths that existed. There were shelters in the woods, where the groups met sometimes. The one nearest was the one that went with the ropes course, which her group was scheduled to do team-building exercises on tomorrow. It was the only place she could think of where Amy and Mike might have gone. Everyplace else was just woods. As she approached the shelter, she heard whispers.

"Hurry," came Amy's voice.

"I don't want to hurry," said Mike softly.

"Mmmmm, I like it when you do that," came her friend's moan.

"You have great tits, Amy," said Mike.

"They're not tits, you asshole," moaned Amy. "They're breasts."

"Whatever they are, I love to suck 'em," said Mike.

"Get your shorts off," came Amy's urgent whisper. "I want to see it."

"You can't see it," he said. "I'm going to play hide-the-sausage with it."

Amy giggled. Gloria snuck forward, moving slowly, and placing her feet carefully, feeling for sticks that would snap and give away that she was there. Her eyes had accustomed themselves to the darkness, after she left the fire ring, and she saw pale bodies ahead of her, under the shelter. Amy was sitting on the end of the picnic table. Mike was standing in front of her, leaned over, his face at her chest. She watched as Mike's hands shoved his shorts down, and he stepped out of them.

"Ooooo you're so hard," moaned Amy.

"All the better to fuck you," said Mike.

"You can't cum in me this year," came Amy's husky voice. "It's the wrong time of the month."

"OK," he said, standing up and moving forward between her spread thighs. She leaned back and Gloria saw his hand go to where his penis had to be.

"Ohhhh yeaaahhhh," groaned Amy, as he moved even closer to her. "I love that so much."

"You feel so hot, baby," moaned Mike.

They stopped talking then, and Gloria, her nipples tingling and her hand wanting to touch herself between her legs, inched closer. There was movement, and little sounds. Amy started panting, almost grunting, and she took one of her hands from behind her and put it between them.

"Almost," she moaned. "Donít stop."

"Oooooooobaby," groaned Mike, his pale buttocks moving faster. "Ohhhhh fuck!" he said, leaning over Amy, and lying down on top of her.

"Don't cum in me, you bastard!" hissed Amy, her whisper loud enough to be heard a long way away.

"Ohhhhhhh," he groaned, pulling her face to his, to silence her with his lips. Her hands beat at his back for a few seconds, and then her legs lifted up and wrapped around his back as she started moaning too, her lips mashed against his. His butt didn't move back and forth any more. It just looked like he kept trying to push harder. Gloria heard the legs of the picnic table slide across the concrete floor of the shelter.

Then it was quiet, except for the panting of the two teens on the table. Gloria felt like she was breathing just as hard, and possibly just as loud. She backed away, afraid that they'd hear her heart pounding in her chest.

"You prick!" came Amy's half-angry complaint. "I told you not to cum in me."

"I couldn't help it," he said. "It felt too good, baby."

"Baby is right!" snarled Amy. "If you knocked me up, we're both in big trouble!"

"I didn't knock you up," he said softly. "I love you. I wouldn't do that to you." He made it sound like he could only get her pregnant if he tried to get her pregnant.

"I love you too," said the girl, kissing her lover, her anger apparently forgotten. "Mmmm, you're getting hard again. We have to hurry!"

Gloria lurched into the cabin, feeling faint. She had half hurried out of the woods, trying to be quiet, and then ran along the path to the cabins. She got there just as the last stragglers were saying good night to each other, and going inside.

"What happened to you?" asked Judy, staring at Gloria. "You look like you saw a ghost."

"Nothing," said Gloria automatically. "I just got left behind. I got a little scared in the dark ... that's all."

Judy turned away to mediate an argument over whose turn it was in the shower, and Gloria sank down on her bed. She had seen them fucking! Right there on the table. Mike had put his penis in Amy and fucked her! It hadn't looked anything like she'd thought it would. Then again, she decided, she had no idea what it looked like. And Mike had spurted his sperm inside her too! Maybe even twice!

"Where's Amy?" came Judy's voice. "Her bed's empty."

Gloria felt panic. If Judy went out looking for them, would she find them like that? ... naked ... rutting ... fucking?

"I think I saw them talking," said Gloria, suddenly.

Judy dropped her shorts, and pulled off her T shirt, to stand only in panties. She slipped on her sleep shirt.

"Well, she'd better get her butt in here," said the counselor. "I'll be right back."

Gloria felt dread as the young woman stalked out, a flashlight in her hand. Then, within a minute, she was back, with Amy in tow.

"We were just talking," whined Amy, sulking.

"Talk during the day, not in the dark, when you're supposed to be in the cabin," said Judy stridently. "You know that."

"You're no fun," complained Amy. She looked over at Gloria and grinned.

Gloria stared at her friend. She didn't look one whit different than she ever did. She was dressed, now, in her shorts and shirt and shoes, just like she'd been at the campfire. You couldn't tell that she'd been fucking like crazy just minutes before this! She looked completely normal, and that was a source of amazement to Gloria.

"Lights out in ten minutes!" warned Judy. "I'm going to do my walk-about, and when I get back I want it quiet in here!"

It wasn't until Judy had been gone for five minutes, that Gloria noticed the flashlight, on Judy's bed. How could she do a security check with no flashlight?


In the morning, during Group time, they went to the ropes course. Their challenge that day was to get everybody in the group over the top of a twelve foot high wall. Only the previous two up the wall could help the others. The rest couldn't help, but could spot those trying to go up, for safety reasons. They had to plan carefully, because some were heavier or shorter than others, and would have a harder time. In the end, only Gloria and Arden were left standing on the ground, at the base of the wall. Arden simply put his hands on her waist and lifted her, his strength astonishing her. He sat her butt on his head and then, with both hands on her butt, pushed her higher. She put her feet on his shoulders and half stood, reaching for hands that were reaching down. In an instant she was over the top, panting. She turned to see Arden standing below, grinning up. Then, while she and one other person reached down, Arden simply squatted and jumped impossibly high. His hand was caught in hers, as the other person grabbed his other hand, and his feet climbed the wall until they pulled him over.

He stood, his body pressed against hers, on the small platform that was at the top of the wall, on the back side.

"Thanks," he said.

She stared into those blue eyes and felt weak.

"Uh huh," she responded.

"Canoeing later?" he asked.

"Uh huh," she said again.

He was waiting for her at the trail head that led to the boat house. Again, all he had on was cuttoffs and tennis shoes. They walked to the boat house without talking.

Once there, he picked a life jacket for her. He laid it down, and took the bottle of Nivea from her hand. She stood there, silently as he began to spread it all over her arms. He did her stomach next, and butterflies sprang to life as his hand slipped across her abdomen. When he did her back and sides, his fingers definitely lingered, coming up to the sides of her breasts. She thought to say "That's not skin!", but didn't. She held her breath, unable to say or do anything. She realized it felt good to feel his fingers there, but, at the same time, she felt a rising tide of panic.

She knew she was perfectly safe ... that he wouldn't do anything right here, in the daylight, in front of everyone. Then she realized they were the only ones in the boathouse. When he did her legs, he used both hands, one inside her leg, and the other outside, sliding them up until she went up on her tiptoes, thinking he was going to touch her ... down there! His hands stopped, just short, and he switched to do the fronts and backs. Then the bottle was back in her hand, and he was holding the life jacket for her as she stuck her arms through the arm holes. He turned her around, and she stared at his face while he fastened the life jacket in the front, pulling it together and mashing her breasts as he snapped it. He was looking at the inner slopes of her breasts while he did so. He turned her around, and she felt him touching her breasts again, as he adjusted straps. She realized she was holding her breath, and let it out. She felt hot, and suddenly wanted to be in the water, instead of the canoe.

She watched as he put on his own vest, looking at the rippling muscles under his skin. He tossed his head, the way a girl did, to get his long hair out of the way, but it didn't look feminine. Gloria found herself looking at the front of his shorts. There was a lump there. Boys all had a lump there. She knew that. She'd looked at those lumps before.

She'd never wondered what was making that lump looked like, though.

They paddled, and swam, and talked, just a little, but neither of them had a lot to say. In a way that was completely unfamiliar to her, Gloria realized that the not-talking didn't bother her. He didn't seem bored, or anything like that. It was more like they both just liked being out in nature, and had nothing really important to say. The longer it went on, the more comfortable she felt.

Well, as long as she wasn't looking at him. When he taught her how to trade places, without tipping the canoe over, and she was in the stern, she felt that nervous feeling come back, in her stomach, as she watched the muscles in his back ripple while he paddled. She couldn't steer like he did, and got frustrated when he pointed toward a tree that hung over the lake edge, and she couldn't seem to get the canoe to go that way. He swung around, effortlessly, and taught her how to do what he called a "J" stroke and then a "sweep" stroke. She felt awkward, at first, but caught on as he turned around and kept them moving.

When they got to the tree, he turned around again and sprawled, lying back, with his arms hanging over the front of the canoe. He just looked at her.

After maybe five minutes, she couldn't stand it any longer.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said. "You're pretty."

"Am not," she said automatically.

"Yes you are," he said firmly.

"Is that why you ..." She trailed off in horror, realizing she had been about to add, "touch my breasts?" She felt her face get hot.

"Like to look at you?" he finished for her. "Yes."

She looked away. Those butterflies were back in her belly.

"You're really shy," he pointed out.

"I guess so," she mumbled.

"Want to go skinny dipping?" he asked.

She was shocked, and her mouth dropped open. "We can't do that!" she gasped.

"Why not?" he asked. "Nobody would know."

"There are people all over the place!" she said.

"Across the lake," he replied. "We could swim here."

"I couldn't do that," she moaned.

"OK," he said simply.

Gloria felt panic. She had no idea why she felt that way, but it was clear in her body.

"You can," she blurted. She couldn't believe she'd said that.

"You don't mind?" he asked, his eyebrow rising.

"I won't look," she gasped, looking away.

"I don't mind if you look," he said.

Then, suddenly, he was over the side, and Gloria was hanging on to the gunwales of the canoe, steadying it automatically. His life jacket came off and he dumped it into the boat. He seemed to sink into the water, and his hands came up with his cutoffs in them. He dropped them into the bottom of the canoe with a wet plop. His tennis shoes followed, and then he was swimming off. Gloria watched as his pale buttocks appeared, briefly, just beneath the water, but then he was too far away to see.

She didn't know what to do. She felt like she should do something, but she had no idea what that was. He was twenty feet away from the canoe. She decided to follow him, to keep the canoe where he could reach it if he needed to. She floundered, at first, turning the canoe in a circle, until she remembered the strokes he'd taught her. The J stroke worked best to go in a mostly straight line, but she seemed to be crawling along.

He saw her coming and smiled, turning onto his back and started doing what she'd have called some kind of frog kick. She saw his thighs, just under the water, and some darkness there, where they met, but she couldn't see anything clearly. It was tantalizing.

"You're getting better," he called.

"I guess," she said.

He stopped, treading water, and the canoe started to slide by him. He reached out and grabbed the gunwale. She found herself staring into those amazing blue eyes.

"That's enough, for now," he said.

"You want to go back to the tree, to get back in?" she asked.

"No, I'll just do it here, if you don't mind."

"But ..." She started to speak ... to say that people would see him leaping into the canoe naked ... but it was too late. His body slithered over the side of the canoe and she grabbed the sides tightly as he ended up in a heap in the floor, just in front of her. Her eyes went straight to his penis, which was protruding from a nest of hair that, she errantly thought, was exactly the same color as her own. She was both surprised and a little disappointed when she realized it looked just about like Bobby's. When they were about ten, they'd examined each other's bodies one day, both curious. When she was twelve, she'd walked into the bathroom while he was standing there peeing into the toilet. Neither of them had been all that embarrassed about it. They were too good of friends to let something like that bother them. Arden's just looked like a pale, wrinkled sausage, with a tight, small round sack behind it. He had more hair than Bobby had had, but then that was several years ago too.

She watched as he got his shorts and worked them onto his legs. Then he had to lie back and lift his butt to get them up. The wet cloth dragged on his skin, and he had a hard time.

"I hate clothes," he muttered.

All the while she stared at what made him male.

When they got back to the boat house she went in first, while he took care of the canoe. She could have undone her life jacket, but she put the paddles away first. She knew she was waiting for him to come help ... to touch her. She tossed that thought around in her head, wondering about that. Why did she want him to touch her?

Then he was there, his hands doing exactly what she had known they'd do. He stood behind her, and reached around to unsnap the harness. As he dragged it off her breasts, his fingertips slid over both breasts, and both nipples. She felt almost-pain as her nipples were stimulated, and looked down to see that they were poking through the swim suit horribly. She actually wavered, her knees feeling suddenly weak, and leaned back against him. He couldn't get the jacket off of her that way.

"You OK?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said truthfully.

He turned her around, and looked into her face.

"I'm OK," she said, shakily.

He pushed the vest back, and his naked chest touched the tips of her breasts as he slid the vest back. Her arms went back, an automatic attempt to assist him, but all that did was push her breasts more firmly into his chest. She felt like she might actually pee herself, but didn't.

"Too much sun," he commented, pulling the jacket around her and turning to hang it up.

"Too much Arden," thought Gloria, as she watched him pick up her bottle of sunscreen.

"You want me to put more Nivea on you ... Nivea?" he asked, grinning.

Gloria thought that if his hands stroked all over her again, right now, she'd just crumple to the ground. All she could manage was a shake of her head. He handed the bottle to her, and they walked out of the boathouse together.

Friday - 2nd Wednesday

It was like that for the next six days. It was routine, now. They always went canoeing in the afternoon. He always applied her Nivea, and helped her with her life jacket, and, each day, his hands became more familiar with her breasts. He never touched her hips, but when they swam, his fingers seemed to stroke her arms all the time. It wasn't for any particular purpose. It was more like he just liked reaching out to touch her. His fingers on her breasts weren't insistent, either. They just seemed to linger longer, and move closer and closer to her nipples, as he helped her on and off, with her vest.

She never said anything. She couldn't believe she was letting this disturbing boy touch her like this, but she never made a move to stop him. He never said anything either. He didn't try to kiss her. But, every chance he got, his fingers traced across the full sides of her globes.

And every time she thought he might try to touch her, she waited for it to happen, instead of doing something to keep it from happening.

Every day he spent a little time naked, in the water. It wasn't a lot of time, but soon his penis didn't seem so odd any more, when she glimpsed it. He didn't put it on "display" for her, or anything like that. He was just completely unashamed about her seeing him naked.

That made sense to her. His family were all nudists, after all.

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