Paul Sutherland - Girl_s camp counselor

I took them several miles into the forest, and I would have walked all day with them if they hadn't started complaining. Some wanted to sit down and have a quiet cigarette, others wanted to go back to camp and sleep, and the rest didn't care just so long as I didn't exhaust them altogether.

This was something of a dilemma for me. I was used to handling classes of boys and girls, but not girls alone. Once again I found out what power they exert on a mere male when they're all in a bunch. Luckily a compromise presented itself to me in the form of a small lake, about an acre in area, lapping at the foot of a thickly forested slope.

"Okay, okay!" I shouted, and the chattering died down a little. "Here's a good place for you lazy people to take a break. Smoke, eat, swim, do whatever you like, but shut up!"

With shrill cries, most of them tore off their clothes and rushed into the cool waters. They dove and splashed, and I sat down with my back resting up against a tree trunk, to take in the sights.

Most of the girls were just budding, their buttocks still boyish and their legs long, stilt-like, vaguely gangling. Their little cunts were bald as eagles, and their tits, if they had emerged at all, still looked out of place.

Only a few were already ripe. One dark girl had a brown thicket of hair covering her generously proportioned box, and heavy, hard tits that barely quivered when she walked. Brownish pink nipples riding high, she walked with her shoulders thrown back, proud and conscious of the stares of the other girls. They cooed when they saw her pubic hair especially, checking their own cunts out, and those hanging between the legs of neighbors, before turning their gaze enviously back to the matted triangle of the precocious little woman.

This was the girl who hung around me for most of the afternoon, together with her friend. The little woman's name was Angela, her friend Doris. And where Angela was fully developed, womanly, and ripe, Doris was the opposite. Pale, skinny, blonde, washed-out eyes, a bony chest and protruding pelvic bones, even her cunt looked thin and undernourished.

They hung together by nature. Every good looking girl has a plain girl friend who admires her, envies her, and bolsters her ego whenever it's needed. Doris was Angela's fan club – and I wouldn't have minded becoming a member.

Apart from Angela's precocious development (she was just fourteen), she had the face of a sex symbol already. Oval, brown, her lips a red cupid's bow, her nose small and straight, and her eyes almond-shaped, turned slightly at the corners. She could melt a man just by looking at him.

Several times she walked out of the water directly at me, her long dark hair slicked back over her shoulders, her eyes deep and unfathomable, those round, high tits with the young nipples staring at me, and her smooth round belly with its triangle of hair swaying towards me as if she was challenging me to a sexual duel. Behind her, like the faithful servant, came Doris, pale, neutral, and thin, but always ready.

Angela would stand close to me, looking through me, her cunt inches from my mouth, and address Doris. They would talk about the weather, with Doris giggling asinine replies. Then she would turn and walk back into the water, her big round buttocks moving like oiled orbs. I knew I was staring, and I knew the other girls were watching my every move – but I couldn't help myself.

They swam for an hour and one by one retired, taking the towel out of their junior knapsacks and reclining in the shade, naked as the day they'd been born. What a feast for me! Trying to seem cool but inwardly burning, I looked up dozens of little cunts peeking back at me from innocently opened legs or provocative postures.

Angela was last to come out of the water and took her towel to stand in front of me again. With a distant look she began to dry herself, paying inordinate attention to her fully fledged tits, and drying her box as if she meant to wear the hairs off it.

Doris came up beside her and dried herself down too, graceless, awkward, trying to copy Angela and failing. I just sat there and looked directly into Angela's box. What was the point pretending I didn't care? The girls were all watching me like hawks, and doubtless Laura had told them of our midnight tryst.

"Why don't you take a swim, sir?" Angela said in a surprising voice. I had expected her to sound husky throaty as if she'd been smoking since the crib. Instead, her voice came out reedy and silvery, like a five year old boy without balls.

"I don't have my costume," I replied.

"Come on, sir!" all the girls yelled as if conducted, "take a swim!"

"We don't have costumes either," Angela reminded me primly. "Do we, Doris?"

"No," said Doris. "We don't have costumes."

"I'm sorry," I said firmly, "but that would contravene camp regulations."

"And I know something else that broke the rules," said a voice from the crowd. Laura stood up and gave me a big, cautioning smile. I sighed and took my clothes off and they all cheered, and dove into the water.

It was as if the fleet of Lilliput was after me. Dozens of girls jumped in after me, swimming with short, brisk strokes while I headed for the center of the lake to get away from them. Angela, it seemed, had earned her tits by exercise. Swimming. She was right behind me, no matter how I poured the juice on. And, towing along in her wake, was Doris.

The others dropped away as the three of us tore across the smooth surface of the lake. I kept looking around to see if they had given up yet, but no, there was Angela's head, just visible above the water while her strong arms dug in and out to keep her hot on my trail. And just behind her was the head of Doris.

We reached the opposite shore and sank down on the grassy embankment exhausted. Angela lay down beside me, her chest heaving, her tits quivering, wet and beat. And Doris lay alongside her, near death.

"You can certainly swim," I told Angela. And she, despite her tiredness, answered she could do more than swim – for the right guy. "Oh, come on," I replied. "You're only fourteen, what do you know about things like that."

"Enough," she said cryptically, and Doris added, "She knows everything."

"You'll only get me into trouble," I said, my eyes drinking in her firm tits and hard belly which were gleaming in the sun. "They'll fire me. You wouldn't want that would you?"

"It won't happen – if you cooperate."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"We know all about Laura and you," she said calmly, "and you have our word that it won't go any further, just as long as you cooperate."

I could hardly believe it! In her silvery angel's voice she was laying down the law to me as if she was the head of the toughest gang in town. Oh well, I thought, if they're going to blackmail me into it, I may as well enjoy it.

"Okay, I'll buy your silence with my cooperation. What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to make love to me," Angela said curtly, "and I want you to show Doris what it's like too."

"Yes," said Doris. "I want to know about it too."

"So what do you think is a good opening?" I asked.

Angela looked at me for a moment, then determinedly took my prick and tried to stuff it up her dark, downy cunt. I lay back and watched this little spectacle, letting her perform while I relished the electric tingles of pleasure shooting up through me.

In the end she became peeved and asked if I always let the woman do all the work. I laughed, and began to cooperate in all seriousness.

I motioned her to come sit on my face, and she straddled my mouth with tense excitement. Then I directed Doris to get her lips around my prick and make it stand up. She thought that sounded like fun and attacked my prick with gusto. And while her thin lips did their best to take all of my limpness inside, I let my tongue rove in Angela's softly overgrown cunt.