Lola and her friend, whose name was, quite appropriately, Summer, had dedicated themselves to taunting the C.I.T. camp guys with their flirtatious antics. They had solemnly sworn to each other an oath of “No Boys!” before camp even began. This was prudent as well as playful, for any counselors caught “fraternizing” with the opposite sex were swiftly and immediately shipped home without pay. Curiously, there were no rules about “fraternizing” with the same sex and so Lola and Summer kept each other in line by exploiting this loophole in the rules to the greatest extent possible — frequently in eyesight or earshot of the guys they wished to exquisitely torture for sport.
But now, on this Bacchanalia night, the impossible would be possible. The girls had worked themselves up into a frenzy just whispering about it to each other under the sheets after lights out all summer long. Having built up the momentousness of the occasion in their minds since first hearing rumors of it years ago, they could hardly contain themselves as first one and then the other traded fantasies of what would come.
When the last day of counselor camp was upon them, the first eight or so hours fell far below Lo and Summer’s expectations. It was filled with orders barked at them from the Headmaster to clean the latrines, scrub the mess hall, sterilize the kitchen, and do strenuous lifting and pulling of heavy equipment from the grounds to the shed. Lo and Summer kept up each other’s spirits until finally the last dish, last bunk, and last hammock was stacked, stored, and folded for the winter.
It was 6:00 and there was still about an hour of good daylight left. Now that the campers were all gone, the counselors, for the first time that summer, could crack open cold bottles and cans of beer as they sat around the campfire and barbecued their dinner together. But during that odd hour with the sun descending and casting magical light across the valley where the camp was nestled, the counselors didn’t feel so much frisky as literally “fraternal.” The camaraderie among them never felt so strong as it did then, reminiscing about the past summer with its mishaps and highlights. All the counselors felt a pang of love and nostalgia for the campers about whom they complained all summer long, but whose absence they now keenly felt with bittersweet sentiments. It was a quiet and reflective time watching the fire burn brighter as the sky grew darker.
But then, as they laughed and delighted in making their S’mores, a feeling of sexual energy filled them as if Aphrodite herself had cast a spell upon the shadowy circle. Lo and Summer weren’t the only female counselors among them, of course, and slowly, one by one, different guys and gals paired up and drifted off into the night. However, the women were outnumbered by the men and before too long the circle had reduced itself down to just Lo and Summer and six guys, all of whom had designs on one or both of the ladies.
The eight of them talked and eventually someone brought up the often observed hole in the wall of one of the boys’ cottages. “The Glory Hole” was the joke that circulated since time immemorial. Banter went around the campfire that that was just a legend. Others fervently disputed that claim. Finally Lo said, “Let’s check it out.” Everyone got up and went to cabin #3 of the boys’ side of the camp and at first one of the guys stuck his fingers through the wall on one side saying, “See, it could be big enough!” as Lo and Summer grabbed the fingers on the other side as if they were giving a hand job.
Then Lo got on her knees and put the boy’s fingers in her mouth — deep into the back of her throat. “Wow!” came the call from the boy’s side.
“It’s just the right height!” Lo called back.
And then, as you might expect, one of the daring boys — encouraged no doubt by a summer of celibacy — put his long, think cock through the half-dollar sized hole.
“Who is that?” called Summer.
“Guess!” was the response.
Lo took the delicious looking cock in her mouth and out rang the question, “Who is that?” from the guy on the other side.
Both Lo and Summer replied in unison, “Guess!”
The game went on for a while with the guys and gals taking turns until first one and then another exploded, and then each in turn, like popcorn, went off. Eventually they all had their chance.
When they emerged out of the cabins, the women were more eager than ever to be satisfied.
“Rope!” said Lo as she looked at the neatly coiled chords they had put in the corner after untying the volleyball net. Summer and Lo looked at each other and knew instantly what the other was thinking.
Lo slipped out of her shorts and her shirt and, with a bit of encouragement, she and Summer convinced one of the guys, who was supremely able with his knotting abilities, to tie Lo down to one of the cots. Summer slowly removed her own clothing and she tested the waters for the guys.
This little performance was enough to revive their spent energies and when Summer saw this she said, “Who’s first?” They all clamored to be first, but Summer picked one and, with ease of hand and nimbleness of fingers, she slid a condom on his cock. “Have her,” she said as she guided his cock between Lo’s spread legs. Summer, for her part, straddled Lo’s face and held the young man’s cock as he went in and out of Lo.
Lo screamed with delight and when the first participant was done, all she said was, “More!”
One by one the guys took turns with Lo until each had her. . . twice.
“What about you?” said Lo to Summer when she realized that they had nothing left to give her.
“Lo,” said Summer, whispering in her ear, “I never wanted them. I just liked hearing you talk about it. It’s you I’ve wanted since tenth grade.”
Summer untied her beloved and the two of them went back to their cabin where some of the other counselors were in bed with their various lovers. They got naked in the moonlight and slipped into bed together and Lo never slept as soundly as she did that night, held tightly in the arms of Summer.
[Excerpt from the story, “Summer Lovin’,” from the blog: mysexlifewithlola.com]