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    Ivor Slipper
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Summer Camp - 1. Chapter 1

Summer Camp

 

Probably I was very lucky as a child growing up because my parents tended to rather spoil me. I suspect now that was due to me arriving several years after both of my brothers. Tom was twelve and Alan was eleven when I was born, which was quite a difference.

I'm sure both of them loved me, but in many ways I existed in a different world to them. They also got on very well together, no sibling rivalry there. They were in different grades at school which probably made life easier for Alan as he always had Tom around to protect him – not that he ever seemed to need protecting. Both were very much into sports at school; football, baseball, basketball – basically anything that involved a ball and they would be playing it.

None of which is to say that they neglected me, but apart from family mealtimes we had little interaction. A lot of that was no doubt due to the fact that it soon became evident I was not going to follow in their sporting footsteps. I proved to be very uncoordinated and with two left feet despite their efforts to teach me when I was about to start at school and before they both moved away to college.

Thus, as I started my journey through school life, one thing I dreaded was PE. There were some exercises I could do, but once an inanimate object was introduced disaster ensued. I could run, provided it wasn't a sprint, but swimming was the one sport I really enjoyed. Somehow I came into my own in the water and my usual lack of coordination vanished.

So, I wasn't an athlete but I did devour books. I could happily spend all day reading during school vacations. While the other kids would be out riding their bikes around the neighborhood or gathering at the park for games of football or baseball, I liked nothing better then to sit in an easy chair in the backyard under the shade of a tree. With my book, a cooler with some cold soda and a few snacks I would be happy for hours while being transported to some magical world where I could vicariously participate in the adventures of various heroes.

I also found school to be academically easy and being a straight A student quickly became the norm. I was lucky in that the school had a very strict non bullying policy, so my somewhat nerdy nature never led to any real problems for me. Now when I said at the start that my parents tended to spoil me that didn't mean that I was showered with all sorts of toys and trinkets. This was in any case in the days before computers and the Internet changed everything. No, what I meant was that they didn't force me to do anything I didn't want to do. I had virtually no friends, never went on sleepovers and never had anyone to spend the night with me. I didn't know the word back then, but I was a budding iconoclast.

You can thus imagine my shock and horror when as we were eating dinner one evening my mom turned to me and said,

Adam, your father and I have been talking and we have decided that this summer you should go to camp.”

I almost choked on the piece of chicken I was eating at the time. Coughed, spluttered and replied,

Why? I don't want to go to camp. I'm not interested in going to camp.”

Your brothers both enjoyed going to it. Couldn't wait to get there as I recall.”

That was them. I'm not like them. I don't enjoy sports and games like they do. I like to be on my own.”

Ah, and that's another reason,” she responded. “You spend too much time on your own. You're fourteen now, you need to learn how to integrate, get on with other people and make friends.”

We argued for a while longer, but when my father added his voice in agreement I knew I was doomed.

There was also another reason why I didn't want to go to camp, but it wasn't one I could voice. Puberty had struck a year or so ago. Perhaps my father had discussed the birds and bees with my brothers but he certainly never did with me. Probably had my brothers been closer in age to me they would have explained things to me. As it was I had to find out for myself.

My search for explanations started the morning after I had my first wet dream. That occurred on a Friday night and I was horrified when I awoke to find my pyjama trousers wet and sticky. I thought I'd simply wet the bed and was disgusted with myself for doing so. But then I realised that wasn't the explanation as I removed my pyjamas, changed the bed and took 'the evidence' down and into the washing machine before mom was awake. When she came down later and saw the tumble dryer running she simply thanked me for being thoughtful and doing the washing for her. I had thrown a few other items into the machine as well to make it a little less obvious as to why it was running.

After breakfast I got my bike out and rode into town. I spent the entire morning in the library and when I emerged some hours later I had the answer to the question of what had caused my nocturnal emission. Not only that, I had the inkling of an answer to something else that had been puzzling me and which became more obvious as the months passed. I liked boys!

That was the only good thing about PE at school. I could see other boys in a state of almost complete, and sometimes complete, undress. Of course I couldn't stare. I didn't dare make it obvious I was looking. We may have had a non bullying policy at school, but I didn't want to be classed as a fag. However, a surreptitious glance or two was always possible and I think I became a master at doing so. It was even easier to see things at the pool, where, rather to my parent's surprise, I had become a frequent visitor the previous summer. They had been happy that I was out of the house while I was delighted that, it being an outdoor pool, I could lie on the grass pretending to read a book while actually boy watching. I quickly learned to do this while lying on my stomach to hide the inevitable reaction whenever anyone interesting came into view.

So now I knew what it was all about. I would usually come home from school, go up to my room and undress. Once naked I could stand in front of the mirror on my wardrobe door and play with myself while thinking of what I'd seen during the day. At night I'd lie in bed and toss myself off while picturing whichever boy I fancied at the time.

Everything there was under my control, but how on earth was I going to cope having to sleep in a room with several other boys when I'd never shared a room with even one? I was sure to spring a boner and someone was bound to see. Then the rest of my stay at the camp would be misery – and I was going to be there for three weeks! It was a ghastly thought. The days were going to be little fun as I read through the available activities from the prospectus mom handed me after our meal was finished. But the nights? They simply did not bear thinking about, but think about them I did.

As the time for my departure grew closer I worried more and more. I thought about climbing a tree and falling out in the hope of breaking a leg, but was too scared. I wished I could catch something contagious or the camp would burn down. Anything to stop me having to go there, but nothing occurred and so one Saturday afternoon in June my parents dropped me off at Camp Jehoshaphat – so named according to a note in the prospectus because everything there was jumping...

One of the few things I had liked on reading the details of the camp was that we would be accommodated in small cabins of just six boys. That, I reasoned, reduced my chances of being caught looking and indeed, with any luck, there might not even be another boy in mine who I wanted to look at.

The camp was located about two hours from the town where we lived. I guess you could say it was on the edge of wilderness as it was several miles from the nearest town with the last mile or so of the approach being down a dirt track. Good thing the weather was dry that day. I had no idea what happened if it was wet, but I did notice some sort of phone in a box where the track branched off from the road, so perhaps you called the camp and they sent something like a tractor to collect you. Anyway, we didn't have that problem so drove into the centre of the place. There were two or three large buildings and then off to the side were an array of cabins, almost equal numbers of large and small.

We got out of the car and went into the building that was marked as being the office. There to meet us was the owner, James T. Sloane according to the sign on the desk he was sitting behind. The name didn't fit for someone running a camp, but his appearance definitely did. He was tall, white haired with a beard. His face was lined and sunburned, but his eyes sparkled as he stood up to welcome us. He was also well built and quite old looking, although most adults looked old to me, but I guessed he was about the same age as my parents. He was dressed all in blue denim with a bandanna round his neck. When he walked round the desk to shake my father's hand I saw he was wearing cowboy boots, but no spurs! He definitely fitted my image of an old time cowboy, other than the lack of the requisite spurs. Apart from them the only other thing missing was his horse!

Introductions made and forms signed he then hollered “Taylor” and after a few seconds the door opened and this fit looking young guy came in, dressed in shorts, t-shirt and sneakers. I was told that Taylor would be the counsellor for the hut I would be staying in which was named 'Kiowa'. Then it was time to get my things out of the car, say goodbye to my folks while trying, without much difficulty, to look unhappy at being here, but not upset enough to need to shed a tear as they drove away.

We then walked across to my hut. As we did Taylor briefly explained how the camp operated. There was a mess hall where meals were served. I knew there was a rota for us kids to help prepare meals and clear away after, although there were a couple of cooks. Another large hut with a stage where entertainment would happen in the evenings. There was also an area for a fire pit for barbecues and where 'gatherings' would take place in the evenings. He didn't explain that further and I didn't ask what they involved. One other hut he pointed to contained the showers and toilets. He also pointed out the fields where games such as soccer and baseball were played and the lake. That was suitable for swimming once you had passed their ability test and there were also canoes, rowing boats and a couple of small yachts. Around the lake were woods and I could see that they merged into hills as the camp was located in a sort of bowl like depression. I had to admit to myself that the surroundings did seem quite pleasant. With any luck I'd be able to take myself off each day with a book and find somewhere in the woods where I could read in peace.

When we arrived at the hut and Taylor led the way in I found that it did indeed contain six beds with a space just inside the entrance where stood a small table. Then came the beds, or perhaps bunks would be a better description, three on each side. Beyond them was another door which he told me led to a toilet and basin which we could use if the need arose at night because we weren't supposed to be outside the hut after lights out, which apparently came at ten pm.

The four beds at the far end were already occupied. Taylor introduced me to Wayne, Jeff, Donny and Bryan, said that he'd leave me to unpack as he had to go back to the office to wait for a few more arrivals because he was the counsellor for both this hut and the nearby one named 'Cree'.

It soon became evident that the four knew each other. Indeed they went to the same school, but in a town that was a good fifty miles in the opposite direction to where I lived. They'd also been here before – for the last four years apparently and thought it was the greatest way to spend some of the summer vacation. I quickly decided that their little group wouldn't want to expand to include me as it was very evident that my interests and theirs were vastly different. That suited me, as long as they didn't decide to gang up on me. I'd read stories about boys being picked on and bullied at camps. I had no wish to find myself trying to get into an apple pie bed at night, or being stripped naked and having my dick and balls boot blacked. Hopefully they'd be too busy enjoying their activities during the day that they be too worn out at night to do anything other than sleep.

I guess it must have been half an hour later when Taylor came back bringing with him the final member of our group. That was the first time I saw Mark. He was quite tall for a fourteen year old, two to three inches taller than me I thought. He had what I'd call 'dirty blond' hair that formed a fringe over his forehead and was long and straight coming down the side of his face and to below collar length on his neck. The striking thing about him was his face. He just gave off an air of happiness. He was smiling and showing a set of perfect white teeth. Hazel eyes that seemed to hint of mischief. He was well built, but definitely not fat – just fit. There was just something about him that appealed to me and I sensed myself starting to go hard just looking at him. Fortunately Taylor suggested that he just dump his bags on the remaining bunk and we'd all go down to get something to eat after which he'd take us on the full tour.

So that was what we did. Naturally the other four walked together which left me with Mark. Luckily he seemed willing to lead the conversation and when it came to finding out where we both lived, it turned out we both came from the same town! In fact he only lived a few blocks from me, but his house was in the catchment area for both the other junior and high schools which sort of explained why we'd never met. Still it meant we could compare notes about teachers and lessons and see how each school differed.

Because it wasn't a proper mealtime we could only get toasted cheese sandwiches, but those followed by some ice cream filled some holes and should keep us going until the evening. After eating Taylor took Mark and I on the full tour leaving the other four to their own devices. Mark kept on enthusing about all the possibilities. “Hey, we've gotta get canoes out Adam.” “Hey, we've gotta go sailing, Adam.” “Hey, we've gotta swim over to the island Adam – you can swim can't you?” I nodded my head. “Great!This is gonna be so much fun.” And when he found out they had some horses - “We've gotta go riding, Adam!”

It was sort of infectious and I found myself being carried away with his enthusiasm, so I thought I'd get my own back. “Hey, we've gotta go climb that peak, Mark.” I said pointing at one in the distance. “Hell, why not! Great idea Adam,” he replied and laughed out loud as he finished. We both knew that the peak I'd pointed at was at least thirty miles away.

Taylor had informed us while we were on the tour that each day there were organised activities for which we could put our name on lists in the mess hall, but we didn't have to join those. After he'd left us Mark said that we'd see what was on offer each day for the next day and then if we wanted to, join. I was amazing myself that I was letting him carry me along with his enthusiasm; after all I was the boy who just wanted to go and find somewhere quiet to read one of the several books I'd packed. But he was so totally different to anyone I knew at school that I wanted to be with him, although I couldn't really understand why he'd want to be with me. After all I was pretty unremarkable – brown hair with a normal parting, grey eyes, average height, average weight. You certainly wouldn't pick me out in a crowd.

When we got back to the hut Wayne informed us that there was a six-a-side soccer contest between all the six berth huts. It would be played on a league basis over two weeks with each hut playing the other twice. Winning hut would get a prize – as yet unspecified. I said I couldn't play as I was useless, but he and his pals didn't believe me. They said we should get changed and go down the field and have a practice kickabout. So now I had my first real problem, getting changed in a small room with five other boys. Well, I managed without giving too much away, but while I kept on my white briefs, the others removed briefs and pulled on jocks. I'd never had the need to own one of those.

Once we got to the field and started kicking the ball around it very quickly became evident that what I'd said about being useless was absolutely correct. I couldn't pass the ball and I definitely couldn't tackle, so it soon became the five of them with me as a virtual bystander. That was until Mark had the idea of me being in goal. It did get me out of the way but the funny thing was that after a short while I started to understand what I was supposed to be doing and could use my brain to cut down the angle anyone had to shoot at. I still couldn't really catch the ball properly, but I could slap or punch it away and the goals we'd be using were smaller than for a normal game.

In the end I didn't do that badly and Mark was always telling me I was great. Rubbish I knew, but it made me feel part of the group even if nothing much was said by the other four. After we'd finished Donny suggested we had time for a shower before dinner. I'd been dreading taking a shower, but also looking forward to it – provided I didn't get caught looking. It was quickly apparent that Wayne, Donny, Bryan and Jeff had no hang ups about being naked and within a couple of minutes were playing grab ass. Mark and I stayed out of it, but I saw he was also looking at what they were putting on display, and like me he was getting a bit of an erection.

Dinner wasn't bad – burgers, beans and fries followed by ice cream and then there was a film show in the main hall. It was a sci-fi come horror movie, but nothing special.

 

------------

Thanks for reading - hope you enjoyed.
Always appreciate comments from readers.
Copyright © 2020 Ivor Slipper; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

14 hours ago, weinerdog said:

I was more like Adam's older brothers anything with a ball.Looking back on it I would love to have had the ability to read like Adam and to understand what heck I was reading.Like Adam I also was an expert at sneaking looks in P.E. without getting caught.Nobody ever called me on it lol.This story looks like it's going to be pretty good

Appreciate the comment @weinerdog. I was much more of an Adam type, mainly because of poor eyesight, although that didn't stop me from reading voraciously...

  • Like 5

Interesting start Ivor. I like the matter of fact style with no embellishment. Makes it all seem very plausible.

Looks like Adam and Mark are going to pair up well together and that's a good thing as the other 4 lads have no incentive or, I suspect, any inclination to add to their number. I never go the chance to go to camp but it looks like it could be fun, if you didn't get beaten up.

  • Like 4
6 hours ago, Bard Simpson said:

Interesting start Ivor. I like the matter of fact style with no embellishment. Makes it all seem very plausible.

Looks like Adam and Mark are going to pair up well together and that's a good thing as the other 4 lads have no incentive or, I suspect, any inclination to add to their number. I never go the chance to go to camp but it looks like it could be fun, if you didn't get beaten up.

Appreciate the positive comments Bard. I do try to make my stories plausible so glad to know you consider I succeeded.

  • Like 3

Ah, the dreaded annual camping experience some parents inflict on their kids!  Fortunately for me, a bookworm just like Adam, rural/small town Ohio isn't a place prone to such things.  You got your daily dose of outdoors either doing chores or playing with neighbor kids, so such structured events weren't necessary.
Mind you, this was back in the 60s and early 70s before paranoia about raising kids set in, so we roamed our local lanes on bikes, hiked in fields and groves of trees  or swam in ponds or streams or a neighbor's pool if one was available.

I whiled away many lazy days on my bike or in a tree house across the street on a neighbors farm in a centuries old oak.  We'd eat at friends' houses and were told to call if we were going to be there after dark, when we'd likely spend the night.

Who needed camp with an unknown mix of strangers back then?

  • Like 2
8 hours ago, ColumbusGuy said:

Ah, the dreaded annual camping experience some parents inflict on their kids!  Fortunately for me, a bookworm just like Adam, rural/small town Ohio isn't a place prone to such things.  You got your daily dose of outdoors either doing chores or playing with neighbor kids, so such structured events weren't necessary.
Mind you, this was back in the 60s and early 70s before paranoia about raising kids set in, so we roamed our local lanes on bikes, hiked in fields and groves of trees  or swam in ponds or streams or a neighbor's pool if one was available.

I whiled away many lazy days on my bike or in a tree house across the street on a neighbors farm in a centuries old oak.  We'd eat at friends' houses and were told to call if we were going to be there after dark, when we'd likely spend the night.

Who needed camp with an unknown mix of strangers back then?

Ah, the joys of an idyllic childhood in those pre-paranoia times.🙂 Now the kids are probably too hooked on their cell phone and Facebook friends to bother with real ones.

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