Chapter 4
A downhearted look on his face, Gary pushed the door to his cabin open and stepped inside, and fell into a chair.
Lorraine was on the couch, an afghan pulled over her legs, a book in her hands. A fire flickered in the fireplace. She was full from dinner and tired from a full day. It was the second week of regular camp sessions.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
"I got a call," he said. "Council wants me down in the city for a couple days. Something about some requisitions somebody made to beef up camp supplies."
"So? We'll go to the city."
"We can't. You have to stay here."
She was about to ask why, but she knew why. Gary had given up his apartment when they got married, and she had given up hers. They had signed a lease for a larger place, effective in September, after camp, but in the meantime, they had no place to call home except the cabin at Camp Bernhardt.
"Won't they rent us a hotel?" she asked.
"They're too damn cheap," he answered. "I'm staying with Ed Golbert, in his spare room. And it's a damn single bed. I'm sorry, baby."
She was disappointed. Since their arrival at camp, she had grown accustomed to his loving on a nightly basis, taking his muscle between her legs and wringing all the cum out of it she could. She almost lived for the pleasure with which he provided her.
But she had to be adult about it. He was a man with a job, and when the job called, there was nothing she could do but accept it, and await his return.
She was madly in love with him.
"When will you be back?" she asked.
"I have to leave Thursday," he said. Day after tomorrow, she thought. "I'll be back Saturday for the campfire."
She rose and put her arms around him. "It's okay, I'll be all right."
"You?" he said, jokingly. "Who cares about you? It's me I'm worried about. I think I'll go crazy without you."
"You mean it?" she smiled.
"Boy, do I mean it."
'Then let's go to bed. Now.
His smile faded, even though he was holding her by the buttocks, grinding his pelvis into hers. "I can't," he said. "There's a staff grievance meeting in 10 minutes."
"I can give you some head," she whispered in his ear.
"It'll take 10 minutes to get to the rec hall," he said. The recreation hall was a ramshackle wooden facility beyond the staff area, at the top of a hill.
"Well," she said, truly disappointed. "Hurry back."
"You can count on it," he said.
He was gone for hours.
She watched him go, his car leaving a trail of dust as it sped away. Barry stood beside her. "You're gonna miss him, huh?"
"I'll say," she answered.
"He's a great guy, one of my best friends. I suppose he's a great husband."
"We haven't been married long enough for me to be able to tell," she said. She liked Barry, and since he and her husband were so close, she felt comfortable talking with him. "But I love him. A lot."
"Lots of girls always fell for him, but he was never really interested. But you're a nice lady. I'm glad he married you."
"Why, thank you, Barry," she said.
They watched until the car was gone, and then
Barry went off to his program area, and Lorraine walked back to her cabin.
She wondered about what she would do today. It was only eight in the morning, and the day was fabulous. Maybe she would take a hike, or find a private area and soak up sun. The one thing she knew she would not do was lay that night with Gary.
That frustrated her, because the last two nights, something had been wrong. It wasn't something she could put her finger on, but Gary seemed to lack the spirit and conviction of his lovemaking. And last night, he had told her he was too tired. Oh, he had been sincerely apologetic, but still, it made no sense.
She wasn't worried about him. She had no fear that the magic had gone out of her marriage, or that the honeymoon was over, or some crazy garbage like that. It was just that she had spent so much time wrapped up in her aspirations and dreams that now, when she was finally engrossed in something real, something else spoiling it was an annoyance of major proportions.
She rationalized herself, out of it. Two days in the city, away from her, and things would be fine, just fine.
But that had nothing to do with the way she felt as a woman. Unsatisfied. She was like a kid who had just discovered candy-she wanted more of it.
She showered in icy water, and dressed lightly, for the weather had turned hot. She had decided to go up to Pine Flats, a three-mile hike. Off in the distance to the side of the Flats was a trail, that led to a series of potholes filled with water, icy cold water flowing from the melting snows in the higher altitudes. The pots were surrounded by flat rocks, and the sun shone directly down into the area.
But she decided to stop and have coffee with Grace first, if she wasn't too busy. She climbed the front steps and knocked on the screen; the sun was too bright to see at all beyond the screen door.
"Come on in!" Grace called, and Lorraine pushed her way in.
"Got any coffee?"
"Plenty, and some time to drink it, too," Grace said. She poured two cups, and they went out back to the deserted staff area. Only one of Grace's staff was there, wiping down tables.
"So you got some time on your hands. What're you going to do?"
"I thought I'd take a book up to Pine Flats, to the potholes," Lorraine said. "It's such a lovely day."
"Wish I could join you," Grace said, "but lunch awaits. You just finish one meal when suddenly it's time to whip another one together."
"Maybe I could pack a lunch," Lorraine suggested.
"Of course." Grace assembled a tuna sandwich, apple and bag of chips, and put them in a paper bag. Lorraine added her paperback and finished her coffee. "It is nice out," Grace agreed. "Maybe we'll go up there together on my day off."
"I'd like that," Lorraine said. She left, headed for the trail to Pine Flats.
Grace poured herself another cup of coffee, and contemplated. But her thoughts were almost instantly interrupted by a voice, a deep voice filled with sarcasm.
"Made friends, did you?" the voice said.
Grace turned and saw Bob Shuster leaning against the wall of the kitchen.
"Morning, Bob," she said. "What are you sticking your nose into now?"
"Just minding my own business," he said, approaching her and seating himself across from her. "But I know what I'd like to be getting my nose in."
"What's that?"
"Lorraine Kemper's pussy."
Grace sat bolt upright, stunned at Bob Shuster's bluntness. "Don't you have anything better to do?"
'This camp runs like a finely-tuned machine. I got all kinds of time. And I have a proposition for you."
"I don't think I'd be interested in any of your propositions."
"And I don't think you really have much of a choice. You see, I want you to help me get Lorraine Kemper."
She stared at him, dumbfounded. "You're out of your mind."
"I don't think so."
"Why would I do a thing like that? She's a nice girl, and Gary's a good guy. They deserve each other, and she certainly doesn't need to be involved with a loser like you."
"You never minded."
"I was never a nice girl," she said. "And girls who aren't nice girls use bad language. So fuck off, Shuster."
"No, I don't think I'm going to do that. You see, you are going to do what I say. Because if you don't, I'm going to Council to fill them in on your extracurricular activities."
Grace's heart missed a beat. "What do you mean?"
"You know damn well what I'm talking about. Your particular taste for young cock." He watched her as her face collapsed. He had her. "You see why I'm able to sit here and say what I want to you? You love that child-cock, don't you?"
"You're a shit."
"Maybe. Where'd she go?"
Grace didn't say anything.
"Tell me, Gracie, or I'll have your ass. You'll never work a camp again, and then you'll have to hit the street for that young stuff. You can get arrested that way. So answer up, Gracie. Where'd she go?"
"The potholes," Grace said reluctantly.
"Did I hear her invite you to go?"
"Yes."
"I suggest you go. There's a story I want you to tell her."
"I can't, and you know it. Lunch has to be done, too. I have to be here."
"You've got three young boys working here. They can handle a lunch. I'm sure you wouldn't object to putting them to work at more than tickling your damned clitoris."
"I can't.. . "
"You will, or I talk. Dig?"
She swallowed, hard. "Yeah, I dig."
"Have a nice trip to the potholes. I think I'll work on some pipe, myself." Eh stood and wandered away, his hands in his pockets.
Lorraine threw her cup, and watched it shatter against a rock. Why did things always have to be so damned complicated?
Lorraine skidded down the embankment to the first of the potholes, then picked her way over the rocks down three levels, and lay her blanket out over a flat rock. It was covered with blinding sunlight, and she slipped sunglasses on to cut the glare, then shrugged out of her robe.
She knew it would be warm, so she had worn only a bathing suit underneath her robe. She kicked off her canvas deck shoes, and stretched out on the towel. She read her book, laying on her belly, for a while, but the warmth of the sun on her skin tired her, and she dozed off after half an hour.
She awakened on her back, and saw the sun had risen considerably-it was at least one-thirty, she gauged, since she did not have a watch. She checked for sunburn, but she had apparently done enough turning in her long sleep to keep tanning evenly in the thin atmosphere, and she was in no pain. She opened the bag Grace had given her and unwrapped the sandwich, and began eating. When she needed to quench her thirst, she wandered to the sparkling clear pothole, knelt, and cupped her hands in the near-frozen water.
Her body did not hurt, but it was warm, coated in sweat, and the water from the pothole on her hand felt marvelous. She had only the towel she had been laying on, but she could not resist a swim.
A steep cliff rose above the opposite side of the pothole, accessible only by ginger climbing. But she had done things like that as a little girl, and she could not resist the temptation of such a climb now. She picked her way across a rock bridge, through which water cascaded from one pothole into another. Once across, she began working her way up the moss-covered cliff. Finally, she found herself on the shelf, and she leapt out into the clear air, and fell forty feet into the pothole.
The water splashed up several yards, and she went under a good five feet, and broke water after relishing the icy freshness of the pothole. When she blinked the water out of her eyes, she saw a figure standing by the pothole.
It was Grace. "Hi!" she called, and Grace waved back.
"That looks good," Grace said. "Why don't you come on in and find out." Grace shook her head and laughed. "Afraid not. I don't have that kind of courage. It looks good but it looks cold as hell, too."
"It is," Lorraine said. "I thought you couldn't get away."
"I . . . I didn't think I could. But my staff insisted they could handle a lunch. At any rate, they wanted to try it themselves once, so I got them started and headed on over. I was afraid you would already be gone."
"I fell asleep," Lorraine said, treading water. "Besides, it's so relaxing here. It's funny that the camp seems to be so full of hustle and bustle in the middle of such peaceful surroundings."
"It is hectic. You planning on staying in there until you turn into a prune?"
"Just coming out," Lorraine said. "Oh, God!"
"What is it?"
"I've lost my top."
Grace looked down into the crystal water and saw that it was definitely true. Her breasts were floating free in the water. "It was so cold I didn't even notice," Lorraine said, her face turning red. Grace saw her brief top floating over a small waterfall two potholes down.
"I see it," she said, and leapt up to get it.
"Hurry," Lorraine said. "I'm freezing."
Grace was gone for a few minutes, and came back empty handed. "Too late," she said, out of breath. "It went over the big one. No way I could get to it." She grabbed Lorraine's towel and held it out. "There's nobody here but us chickens. Why don't you come on out?"
"My.. . my hands are numb." She couldn't grasp the slippery wall of the pothole, and Grace saw her teeth chattering. Her lips had turned a startling shade of blue.
Grace bent over and pulled her out of the water by her arms, dragging her with every ounce of strength she had. She heaved, and Lorraine was out, floundering on the warm rock surface. Grace wrapped her in the towel and began vigorously rubbing her warm and dry. She turned her over and briskly ran the towel over her belly and breasts.
Her tits were soft and pliable, and Grace felt an old chill reviving itself deep within her. She tried concentrating on the half-frozen girl beneath her, her friend, the wife of another friend, but her breasts just felt so good.
Almost as though guided by another mind, another willpower, she let the towel slip away and caressed her breasts with her bare hands. The chill from the icy water had raised her nipples and hardened them to tiny pebbles, and Grace rolled them between her fingers.
Lorraine wasn't sure at first what was happening, since she was too wrapped up in the aching numbness that had stiffened her arms and legs, hands and feet. Now she knew something was amiss. "Wh.. . what are you doing?"
Grace didn't know how to answer, so she said nothing and continued kneading her breasts. Lorraine started to make her stop, but could not find her voice. She was repelled at the thought of sex with another woman, but what Grace was doing was so warm, so much warmer than the towel or the sun-heated surface of the rock.
Without thinking about it, Lorraine put her arms around the black haired, black eyed girl who was working so hard to warm her up. Grace acquiesced, allowing herself to be pulled close. As Lorraine hugged her, she wriggled her hand between their bodies and unbuttoned her own sport shirt, allowing her huge breasts to expand in their new-found freedom.
Lorraine had been fascinated by Grace's tits all along, and now they were pressed up against her own, and she felt wanton desire, and none of the attendant shame she knew she should have felt.
She rolled Grace onto her back and lay her head atop one of the breasts, and settled in the cushy softness of it. Against her cheek she felt one of Grace's nipples stiffening, and not from the iciness of the water. It was strictly from excitement.
Could she do this? Lorraine's mind was in turmoil, even though her body continued to react entirely to its instincts, its desire for Grace guiding her blindly.
Her lips closed over the nipple, and her eager tongue flicked over the distended pebble in her mouth. It turned moist but remained hard and hot. Lorraine used both hands to encase the other breast, and molded it with her moving fingers.
"Move . . . move over," Grace moaned. She had dug her fingers into Lorraine's rich, thick hair, but wanted to put it below her belly, where she had seen the bare outline of the blonde's luscious cunt.
Lorraine rolled off of Grace's sleek thighs, and Grace immediately dove her hand beneath her panty-like bathing suit, grabbing in a handful of her pubic hair.
Lorraine yelped as she felt her tender, delicate hairs pulled from her sensitive pubic skin, but then Grace's hand was pressing against her chilled pussy surface, rubbing and drawing warmth from deep within her.
The warmth turned to heat, and she felt her juices welling up. "Oh, no, we can't . . . " she hissed, but at that moment, Grace turned her hand so the flat was against Lorraine's pussy-slit, and guided it like a living dildo inside of her.
"No . . . mmmnmmph . . . ahhh," she moaned, and when the moan was out of her she took Grace's other nipple in her mouth.
"It's been a long time since I've had a woman, or even been interested in one," Grace muttered as she rubbed her hand against Lorraine's cunt, "but you brought it out in me. And I'm sure you'll like it. Nobody knows what pleases a woman better than another woman."
She pulled her breast away from Lorraine's hungry mouth, and slid down along her belly, rough with goose-flesh from her spell in the water, and down to her pussy. She pulled her hand, which had been almost entirely immersed in the wet pocket of her cunt-crack, out of the warm flesh, and licked it momentarily before dipping her tongue into the slit, between the pussy lips.
Lorraine arched her back as Grace sucked at the flesh between her lips, pulling the clitoris to the surface and capturing it between her teeth. She nibbled gently as her index finger glided up inside her vagina, and began pumping her.
She knew exactly what to do, because all she did was exactly what she would have wanted done to herself. Lorraine rolled and rocked, her nails digging into Grace's scalp, her teeth gritting and her throat gurgling with uncontrolled noises.
She climaxed in sudden jerks, her buttocks slamming against the rock as her entire body quivered and shook. And as she came, she muttered, "Fuck me, Grace, fuck me."
The words that fell from her lips seemed strangely alien, but they thrilled Grace to her core. She pulled her face away from Lorraine's climaxed-out cunt, and lay atop her. "You like my boobs?" she asked.
"I love them," Lorraine said, her voice a hoarse rasp accented by gasps.
Grace ground her own sopping cunt into Lorraine's, and pressed. The pressure of cunt against cunt passed through both of them like electricity being exchanged, and they held each other by the hips and pulled. Grace found Lorraine's lips, and forced them open with her own, her tongue furrowing into the wet cavern of her mouth.
Lorraine tasted her own cum, and tightened her grip on her lover. They rolled over so Lorraine was on top, and she raised herself off the rock, increasing the friction between their grinding pussies.
"I'm going to come again," Lorraine gasped incredulously, "Oh, God oh.. . . " She shivered, and the vibrations from her orgasm shook through Grace, her own clitoris exploding thousands of fireworks throughout her cunt, and up her entire body.
They rested together, the sweat of their bodies mingling.
'That was wrong," Lorraine whimpered.
Grace stroked her hair and shushed into her ear. "It's all right. It just happened. Things like that do sometimes. We'll just forget it, okay?"
But Lorraine had started to shake, shaking not from the chill of the water this time, but from the realization of what she had just done. Her mind was uncontrolled; she had never even considered having a woman before, and now that she had, she was dumbstruck by the fact that she liked it. Not as much as she liked having Gary, but it was completely different. There wasn't as much activity involved in her lovemaking with Grace, but there was more sensuousness, more tenderness.
Yet it was wrong, her mind told her. Absolutely, irrevocably wrong. And the two feelings warred with each other, pulling her apart, and she shook.
Grace wrapped her arms around Lorraine again, blowing softly in her ear and caressingly her back slowly, relaxing her gradually until she was just a sobbing bundle in her arms.
"It's okay, not a word," she said. She knew what she had to say next, and she loathed herself for it. "Listen, you'll feel better at the party tonight."
Lorraine looked up at her, pulling herself out of Grace's arms. She wiped her tears away and looked at her uncomprehendingly. "Party?" she whimpered.
Grace took a deep breath and launched into the lie Bob Shuster had prepared for her. "Sure, didn't you know about it?"
Lorraine shook her head, and it looked to Grace like the face of a child being comforted by a grown up. She wanted to shout, go home! Get the hell away from here and away from Bob Shuster while you can. But she couldn't. Not even after making love to her.
"I guess Gary forgot to tell you. I suppose he was in kind of a hurry, huh?"
Lorraine nodded.
"Well, down the road about 10 miles, there's a steak house, right by the river. About 15 of us are heading down there for a party, and you're certainly invited. We thought you were going, anyhow."
"You'll be there?" Lorraine asked.
"Not me," Grace said, laughing and despising herself. "I've got to prepare for tomorrow's cuisine. But the folks who will be there are good people, and you'll like them a lot. You'll have a good time, trust me.
She nodded again. "I guess we'd better be getting back," she said, and she stood and pulled her swim panties back on, then closed her robe around her, covering her breasts which now bore the impressions of Grace's probing fingers. It would take a few hours for the red marks to fade.
Grace clothed herself as well, and they walked back together, in silence. Grace left Lorraine when she got to the kitchen, closing herself in and leaning against the wall. She choked back tears.
Larry came in, a sack of flour in his arms, and settled his load on a storage shelf and smiled at her. "I've got a hot cock for you to suck," he told her.
"My God, you're an impudent little boy," she smiled at him cynically, and it took him aback. "Get out of here, just get the hell out of here!" she screamed, and he wasn't about to argue with her this time like he had the last. This was different; something was really wrong.
Lorraine, in the meantime, showered and then had two glasses of wine to calm herself down. Then she dressed, looking forward to mingling with a lot of people at the steak house.
She found Barry at the handicraft center, teachings homesick scout how to make a knife sheath. "It helps," he told her. 'They get homesick, and they come to me. The waterfront, the rifle and archery ranges, stuff like that is for kids who like it here. But Joey here misses his mom and pop, and doing stuff like this takes your mind off it and gives you something to think about." He ruffled Joey's hair, and the sad-looking scout mustered a smile for him.
"You're a good kid, Barry," Lorraine said "Do you have a car here?"
Barry turned red. "I did, but I kind of wrecked it."
Lorraine was sorry she had brought it up; she'd forgotten that he had rolled her husband's prize dune buggy.
"But I can borrow one, no sweat," he said, perking up. "Where do you need to go?"
"Some steak house down by the riverside, 10 miles or so down the road."
"Oh, sure, that would be Lester's," he said. "I'll take you. Come on."
Barry borrowed the keys to his tent partner's car, and they tore off down the road, in the same direction Gary had gone that same morning, so long ago.