Evelyn Sinclair - Friends of the teacher

Outside, the camp was still. No, there were shadows moving along one building. Soon, figures emerged. Young boys, no older than sixteen. One boy walked boldly toward the showers, the obvious and natural leader of the group. Just turned sixteen, he was slightly taller than the rest and had a freckled face and blonde hair and a little confident smile that made everyone remark that he looked just like his Dad, Lucas Lamont, the county sheriff. Lonny Lamont led his friends on their nightly ramble. They usually met in an arroyo outside the camp and waited for dark, smoking marijuana they got from a hippy commune nearby and made plans for the coming evening.

This particular night, none of them, including Lonny, had any money, so that canceled a trip ten miles down the highway to the local whorehouse. It was strictly a cash operation and Lonny knew he couldn't throw a scare into them through proclaiming he was the sheriff's son because his old man, Lucas, got paid handsomely each month for ignoring the operation. Besides, the bouncer there was a hard-nosed ex-fighter who didn't like Lonny ever since the night he had poured beer all over his head.

After they finished smoking their marijuana, passing a joint back and forth, it looked like it was going to be a dull night unless they took the trip all the way up into the mountains to the hippy commune, like they did last weekend, and gang bang one of the girls up there who got stoned on Christ's-knows-what and were willing to do anything. But the commune was a long drive on dirt roads and really a weekend thing. Finally, they decided to sneak around the camp and see what they could find. They hit pay dirt at the admissions office, taking turns watching old Tina get her ass tucked off by Jake Barnes. Jake was another tough one who didn't like Lonny. In fact, few people liked Lonny, feeling he was a smart aleck kid too big and brazen for his britches who got away with murder because his old man was the county sheriff. Had his father been anyone else, Lonny would have been in juvenile hall long ago. Lucas usually grinned when he heard about Lonny's exploits and smoothed everything over, explaining Lonny away by saying, "He's just sowing his wild oats, that's all. Always been a wild kid and never had no mother to raise him." It was true, Lonny's mother had died when he was an infant and Lucas raised him and maintained law and order in his bailiwick at the same time.

All of which had little to do with Jake Barnes who was fucking Tina with all his might. The boys took turns, looking through the window at naked Tuna with her legs jerking wildly in the air as Jake lucked away for dear life.

After they were through and Jake hauled himself to his feet to stagger away, the boys ducked and resumed their wanderings, staying in the shadows, slipping up to dark windows to peek in, their eyes glazed by the pot and their minds horny from what they had seen.

It was Lonny who led them along the back of the woman's shower, pausing where he knew each stall was and listening for the sound of water. Finally, at one stall, his grin tightened on his handsome hard face. Someone was taking a shower.

Motioning to his companions to be quiet and pointing at the wall, he took his switchblade knife from his pocket. It snapped open instantly, gleaming dully in the moonlight and making a faint oiled click. With the point, he pried loose a burred knot in a plank; a knot or whorl they had painstakingly carved out months before.

The knot in his hand, he brutally pushed away his eager companions and, squinting one eye, he stooped to see who was taking a shower. The scene that greeted his eye made his mouth fall open and jerk of hardness leap into his cock.

There was Wilma Gans, naked! Old Judd Gan's wife stark naked and hanging onto another woman! He had been right, he had known it all along! He had Wilma Gans fixed for a dyke and he was right! He crouched, tense, eager to see everything. To hell with the other guys, this was something he had heard about but never seen! This was going to be one hot show!

His pot-stunned mind took in the scene he saw through the knothole. Wilma had some girl with a fantastic build (Jesus, he had never seen a build like that one, not even on Rosemary, the highest priced whore at the whorehouse) and had her bent over so that her head fell back and her big round fits glistened wetly with the nipples taut and shaped like bullets. And they were rubbing their cunts together. At least Wilma was, with a savage grin on her face. Wilma was pumping those heavy strong hips back and forth in an obscene motion that made his prick jump erect in his pants! Wilma, If she had a cock, would be fucking this girl now. She was holding on around the incredibly slim waist of the girl and pumping her hips forward in a lewd way, smiling with delight as she looked down at the girl's breasts and licked her lips.

And the girl seemed to be enjoying it, relaxed, her head back, her long wet hair hanging almost to the floor, her arms limp at her sides. Only her legs and thighs showed signs of strain as she thrust them against Wilma's spread thighs. The expression on her face as she swung in and out of the water was one of pure bliss.

"Here." At the sound of Wilma's voice, he almost jumped. He was less than three feet from them. There's some soap on your body, let me get it off."

He crouched closer to the board, practically flat against it as if he wanted to push his way through it. There wasn't the slightest trace of soap on the wet body of the girl yet Wilma was running one free hand all over her body. Wilma had shifted, bending her own knees, forcing the girl to bend even further back where she hung helpless in the crook of Wilma's arm while her free hand caressed her shoulders and then, with Lonny breathing fast and hard and his prick swelling so much it hurt, he saw Wilma Gans put her hand on one of those big beautiful breasts and squeeze it.

He almost whooped for joy. The old bitch was actually making this chick, this stranger, right there in the camp shower! He batted away his friends who were trying to see, and watched, his mouth open and dry.

Wilma was squeezing that breast and massaging it, pretending to wash off nonexistent soap while the girl hung limp. He wasn't sure, but he thought he heard a little groan of pleasure come from the girl's lips above the sound of the splashing water.

Wilma was using her fingers to pretend to clean the nipple of her breast now and the nipple swelled and became even more pointed. Finally satisfied, Wilma moved on to the next breast, cleaning it slowly and sensuously, stroking it and using her fingers to pinch the nipple. And all the time her hips were pumping back and forth lewdly.

Beth felt transported. It was weird, something was wrong, all wrong, yet it all felt so good, so very, very good! Vaguely; dreamily, she told herself she told herself she had a long hard day and she was tired and needed a shower and she was out in the country with the working class now and they helped one another like this. And it felt so good! God, she was getting so excited and, despite herself, she wanted this interlude to go on a little longer. She knew or, rather, guessed, that her body was clean of any soap long ago. Still, it felt so good to be held and swung back and forth like this. And the other woman's hands on her body, stroking, massaging' arousing deep pleasure feelings inside of her. It was nice to have someone be nice to her body, someone like Wilma. There couldn't be anything wrong with it.

Wilma's hand was caressing her taut stomach now and it felt so good, making her body tingle all over. Each nerve seemed so delightfully and deliciously alive! Beth was feeling pleasantly drowsy and wished she could lie down somewhere and let Wilma just massage her all over until she went to sleep. Lonny had his face flat up against the board now with his eye practically bulging through the knothole. He was breathing heavily out of the corner of his mouth as he watched.