At summer camp it’s not automatic

We’re away from our parents.

We have a shot at being somebody new (if camp’s not too
long, that is).

We’re with others who egg us on.

There’s swimming, so sexual baiting’s easy. We never
think we’ll reel him in, though.

There’re the outbuildings with mattresses and the soft
grass beyond the nature trail.

There’s opportunity between scheduled activities.

There are counselors with like intentions.

Whatever happens is over by Labor Day. (Or April if May
if we’re careless. Ask around your cabin if you came
unprepared.)

My guess is that most of our first-times were with a
boy we knew forever. We hated the guy in fifth grade,
had a crush on him in sixth, spurned him in seventh,
thought he was cute in eighth and giggled to our
girlfriends about him looking down our blouse. In ninth
the two of us were watching Ghostbusters because we
couldn’t think of what else to do. We were maybe still
the taller, but more ticklish. From there it wasn’t
that far to having the sex we swear we never planned.
We knew we had to finish before his folks returned, was
all. But it took so long to get there, longer than we
would have had at camp.

But where could be a better story setting for a
disappearing act with a new friend? Camp is where
writers send their virgins.

I would appreciate feedback on this one. Just don’t
hammer me because it’s not great literature. Did you
ever encounter a well-developed male character at camp?
This is just a camp story, for heaven’s sake.

CHECK-IN DAY

When you’re not quite fifteen, life’s issues tend to be
the social ones. The big issue, of course, is boys.
That’s pretty much the reason for coming to camp, to
meet boys your folks won’t even know about, to discover
stuff. Back home, everybody knows everything, but
camp’s what you make of it.

It wasn’t as if Sandi hadn’t been to camp before. She’d
been lots of times. Well, three actually: after fifth,
sixth and seventh grades. It’s just that after eighth,
it’s Senior Camp because you’ll be ninth and tenth
graders. Older than that, kids have summer jobs or
maybe just think they’re too old. So camp’s where you
can be seniors when you’re really freshmen. That part
was neat.

Being just a ninth-grader in the senior group is a
little intimidating, Sandi might have admitted to her
closer friends. Not having actually been to high school
puts you at disadvantage to start with. Colored laces
in your tennies may have expressed your personality in
mid school, but maybe they mark you as a geek in high
school. You just aren’t sure. Maybe they do things
differently in bigger towns.

The way to handle such dilemmas is to pay attention.
While you’re still saying, “Hi, I’m Sandi,” you process
what they’re wearing, if they’re chewing gum, the size
of their makeup kit, clues all. Sandi didn’t define her
life around conformity, but she’d rarely opt for the
bold opposite. She’d leave her bags shut in case
something visible might identify her as being past
tense.

A few girls would have boyfriends from the previous
summer, but on the whole, every year’s an open, if
temporary, season. Lots of girls would have boyfriends
back home, so camp’s the chance to try somebody
different. They’d go back to their old ones, to be
sure, but they’d go back a bit more experienced. Just
here you have to cover a lot of distance fast. When
Dianne had said that last year, she drew her hand up
her thigh and the girls laughed.

Sandi had never had a hand there. At Junior Camp,
they’d pursued the breast part. To that end, girls
would bring their dress-up bras, otherwise lacy attire
with their fashionably-stonewashed outfits. Sandi had
tossed in hers in, not that she’d even find a
boyfriend, probably.

Their counselor Lee Anne Sandi remembered from last
summer. Maybe a little rah-rah, but that’s how college
girls get to be counselors. From the paper on the door,
five or her cabin mates she already knew: Dianne and
Tara were her age. Tish, Becky and Shannon, a year
ahead.

Sandi interpreted Antler’s schedule to Mona and Bets,
in ninth like herself. “No, we don’t actually eat then,
but we’re supposed to be on the way.” Somehow she
already knew that these two were like her, not that
experienced with boys.

Kara was going to be in tenth, but this was her first
year because she’d just moved from Michigan or
Minnesota, Sandi immediately forgot which. As soon as
the parents left, but without even bothering to shut
the cabin door, Kara changed her bra. Sandi wished she
were as fully shaped. She hoped Kara’s smile didn’t
mean that she’d caught her looking.

SNIPE HUNT

Every camp every year started off with a snipe hunt.
The cost of being new was your credulousness. Veterans,
having been new once themselves, would never reveal the
one camp secret that stayed secret.

“Listen up,” enthused the Activities Director after
campfire. “We want to catch a bunch. Your counselors
will team you up in twos.” The staff, winking at those
who knew, paired their charges, none of the new campers
noting that their partner was likewise novice.

“OK, sneak out in a circle. Go for ten minutes and then
sit tight, as quiet as you can. When you hear the
whistle, everybody jump up and yell and drive the
snipes back to the middle. They’re hard to see, so just
keep them moving.”

Sandi and Tara giggled, watching Kara and Mona look
expectantly for more guidance. There was none.

“Let’s go!”

The pairs faded into the woods. Not three minutes
later, those in the know were back. Sandi and Tara made
themselves comfortable poking the coals. Much, much
more than ten minutes later when the whistle signaled,
the campfire crew heard the distant shouts of crashing
snipe herders. The new campers were befuddled to see
the marshmallows in process when they converged on the
center. Next year they’d be part of the trickery.

Sandi passed Mona a gooey s’more. “So now you’re one of
us experts.”

“Guess so. The thing is, though, that Kara saw it
coming and so we hooked up with these two guys. It
wasn’t that long, but long enough to see how they kiss.
Kara’s tried to get her unsnapped, but she wanted to
make it harder. Ask her, if you don’t believe me.”

Maybe being an old-timer wasn’t better than being a
new-timer, Sandi realized. Nobody had tried to unhook
her bra. Of course, she’d have suckered and missed out
anyway.

Sandi roasted a marshmallow for Kara too. “Guess you
sorta tricked us in reverse.”

Kara inspected Sandi’s roasting ability. “Perfect!
Crusty outside and melted inside.” She ate the outside
and then the inside, one bite each, and licked her
fingers.

The race was on and Sandi was already seeing dust. At
least she got her s’more right.

FORETASTE

Becky leaned down from her bunk and announced with
authority, “Antlers gets the boatyard, everybody.”

Sandi missed the significance, but figured it might be
well not to reveal her ignorance. Bets, being new and
thus excused, had no such inhibition, “What for?”

Becky was only waiting to demonstrate her status as
second year. “For ‘Do it till Dawn’. We get the
boatyard.”

Authority Becky awaited Bets’ obvious follow-up,
“What’s ‘Do it till Dawn’?” The ninth-graders were
ears.

“You know, where we do it all night. You know, get
together with our steady.”

Sandi already felt left out. Not wanting to announce
that she had no boyfriend, much less a steady one, she
phrased her concern obliquely, “Well, it’s not like we
can bring our steadies from home.”

“No, and even if we could, you know, who’d want to?
Like here, maybe your steady’s just for here.” Becky
had one waiting at home, it seemed.

As Sandi and the other new girls didn’t want to expose
too much ignorance about the ways of Senior Camp,
discussion turned toward whether Lee Anne would enforce
the No-Talking-after-Lights-Out-plus-15 rule. They
figured she wouldn’t.

When the archery instructor got waylaid next day at the
equipment shed, Becky passed on the next bit of
information. “So here’s what you need to know. The
campers and the counselors both have it, but it’s
separate. Like you both know, but pretend you don’t.
Lee Anne’s date I’ll bet will be Sal.”

The girls knew Sal, counselor at the boys’ cabin Bear
Paw. He was the hunk swimming instructor who Shannon
claimed last year had slid his hand in her top. The
others found this plausible both ways. He’d brushed
several of them in more-accidental manners and Shannon
would be one who’d twist to help. She’d as much as said
so. “Have him float you one hand on your stomach, one
up high. It’s easier to get under your elastic.” Then
she paused, looking the conspirator. “His bottom hand,
oh God!” The others figured that Shannon was probably
still waiting. Otherwise she would have told about the
hand.

Becky continued, “The counselors sneak out after they
figure that we’re all asleep. Of course, they know
we’re not, but we act like it so they can go. Then we
sneak out too, except I guess we aren’t sneaking, since
they’re gone.”

“So where’re they sneaking, the counselors?”

“I think the Craft Cabin, but we’re not supposed to
know.”

“So where do we sneak, then?”

“We get the boatyard, like I said before, where they
pull the rowboats on the grass. Chris says I’ll like it
there.” Becky had to make it known that she’d already
secured her date. “He’ll get the guys to bring blankets
and stuff.”

The boatyard, thought Sandi? Antlers had to cease their
discussion, as the archery instructor had found the
extra bows.

Bets pulled Sandi aside when they were retrieving
arrows that missed the hay bales. More that missed than
hit. “Is she taking about making out?”

“I guess.”

INSTRUCTIONS

That evening the “Do it till Dawn” conversation
resumed.

“The guy you’re dating knows where we’ll be,” explained
Becky triumphantly. “The boys’ cabins get all mixed up,
but Antlers stays together. It’s better with your
girlfriends to talk to. There’s grass between the boats
and we each get our own place. We sit up for a while
and do things like wave at each other, but then he
pulls you under. Well, actually, maybe you pull him.
Doesn’t matter.”

Bets giggled, “Like do it by the water?” with the pride
of being first to get the meaning of “it”, as in “do
it.”

Becky gave a nod, “Us and our dates between each boat.”

“So it’s boat, boy-girl, boat, boy-girl, boat. That
way?” queried Bets.

“That’s how I said it,” a bit defensive, the reply.

“Just checking. I thought maybe you got in a boat. Then
the bench where you oar would be in the way.”

“We ‘row’ with ‘oars’. We learn all these boat words,
but we still have to wear life preservers,” from behind
Sandi.

Sandi phrased her next comment on the fly, a safe
guess, “And we sneak back before dawn. That’s the
‘dawn’ part.”

“Right. The girls one rowboat on each side of you come
at the exact same moment with you,” Becky beamed. “I
like to come once, really great. But after that we all
decide for ourselves.”

Afterwards, Sandi and Tara compared notes.

“She said ‘come’, I think.” Sandi wasn’t sure if Tara
was a virgin too.

“Well I haven’t” admitted Tara, answering that one.

“Me neither.”

This endeavor seemed both enticing and frightening.
Lots of Sandi’s friends had lost their virginities in
hasty moments with boys interested in little more than
gaining experience themselves, more a mental rush for
having done it that a physical one.

Sandi and her friends had figured out the mechanics
from movies. Sandi’s folks might think twice about her
renting an R, but other girls’ folks didn’t check.
They’d even watched X-rated at slumber parties. They
knew about women who razor, how they moaned impaled
time and time again. Some of the girls had seen movies
showing the penetration, but nobody ever brought one to
watch. Anyway, Sandi but knew that the video stuff was
probably faked.

But faked or not, it seemed real to girls in their
pajamas.

At twelve she liked to think about how a penis could
get long. She didn’t like it, though, when boys looked
down her dress. At thirteen she learned to kiss. Only
Michael, though, she’d let feel her blouse. In the
almost-year since turning fourteen, he’d made it
inside. Lots of slumber party talk dealt with getting
felt up. It’s sexy to get unhooked, but if he just pops
you out and something happens, you can just pop
yourself back in.

“Getting fingered” was good for whispered sleeping-bag
discussion. As Sandi’s friends used insertible products
of various Miss designations, having someone’s digit
instead didn’t seem impossible. But what if it was your
period? A finger is just a tampon with personality.
It’s all about personality.

Sandi knew that girls played with guys too. You pulled
on them up and down and made them come. If it got on
your clothes, your mom could tell. Of course, if it got
inside you, they agreed, your mom would know when you
missed your period. Either way, it’s hard to fool a
mom.

Some girls said that you didn’t have to play with it,
just make it really hard and let him put it in you. But
then he might push too hard and you’d get everything
bloody. There was the size thing. Her friends had
pictures of males far in excess of what they presumed
to be their own dimensions. Sandi once saw a male dog
stuck in a female.

Sandi figured it might be with Michael. But maybe
Randy. They’d held hands in the bus. Screwing seemed
far away from holding hands in the bus, but once these
kids did it right there in the very back seat. She’d
seen the stain.

But now they were talking about doing it right here in
camp!

Sandi wasn’t sure.

FREESTYLE

The Antlers-Bear Paw war began the evening following.
Returning to their cabin after campfire, the girls’
opened bags signaled something amiss. Their initial
consternation about snack shop money, cameras and
jewelry (which they weren’t supposed to have brought
anyway) seemed to be misplaced. Things just seemed to
have been rummaged.

In the midst the confusion, Mona again looked at her
possessions. “Hey girls, count your panties.”

Kara was the first to complete her inventory, “My black
ones!”

To a girl, a pair was purloined.

Lee Anne spoke with some certainty, “Some pathetic
boys’ cabin raided us.”

The thieves weren’t long unannounced. At lunch, Lee
Anne told them what she’d been informed. “Bear Paw did
it and we have to earn them back freestyle. Like
wrestling. One of us takes on one of them. We each
choose who.”

Sandi found this rather extreme for the return of their
panties, but didn’t say anything.

Becky turned toward Kara, “How ’bout you. You’re
probably the strongest. Ever wrestled?”

“Psych ’em out is how,” Kara deemed. It was decided.
Lee Anne sought the representative of Bear Paw to
accept the challenge.

That evening during free time, Antlers slipped toward a
grassy enclave around the corner of the lake. Sandi was
nervous, but there was safety in numbers. When Antlers
arrived, the arena was festooned with a clothesline on
which hung nine pairs of panties, Sandi’s near the
middle. The boys were huddled, guffawing, but mostly
looking at the ground.

Sal and Lee Anne joked as they settled on the rules, or
in the spirit of freestyle, a lack thereof. Kara and
Martin, a tenth grader who wore braces, would have at
each other until one surrendered. No hitting or
anything that would leave a mark. That was it.

“Come on Kara, nail his ass,” Tish encouraged.

Sandi heard comments from Bear Paw regarding squeezing
Kara’s breasts. That didn’t seem fair. Goosing a guy
wasn’t far from the girls’ minds, but they’d not say
it.

The two contestants circled one another for a moment,
concentrating. Martin dived and missed, Kara’s sidestep
establishing her agility. Martin’s next maneuver lacked
any sense of finesse. He rushed Kara directly, grabbed
her shoulder and tripped her. On the ground, Martin had
little trouble lying across her back, pushing her into
the grass. Bear Paw cheered.

Sandi abjectly decided that the contest had cost her
one pair of white panties. Boys have the brute
strength. But the counselors seemed in no hurry to
declare a winner. Perhaps sensing the referees’
acquiesce, Martin pulled Kara up enough to reach under.
The boys hooted at Kara’s struggle as he fondled his
targets.

Sandi looked at Lee Anne cuddling against Sal. Sandi
looked back at Kara, now giggling at Martin’s
attention. It wasn’t like he was inside her clothes or
anything, Sandi realized and relaxed just a bit.

Perhaps due to their initial exertion, the two almost
rested together, Martin’s hand now freely roaming up
from her waist under her attire. Kara was, if anything,
lifting herself to afford him better access.

A bolstered Martin rolled Kara on her back and used his
wrist to work her fabric upwards. He pulled her left
arm upward enough to jerk her sleeve over her elbow,
exposing half of Kara’s bra.

The boys were laughing, “Take it off. Let’s see ’em.”

Sensing dominance, Martin left her shirt hanging and
drew his free hand around to her bra hooks. Kara
wiggled in resistance, but not enough to dissuade him.
To Sandi, it didn’t look like an attempt to escape. The
unfastening clumsily accomplished, his hand returned to
pull her cups upward. Martin straddled her to show his
buddies her pale breasts, rising and falling, rising
and falling. Her areolae were pink; her nipples stood
erect for two cabins’ pleasure.

Sandi pressed her legs together.

The boys hooted even more as Martin began to extract
Kara’s other elbow from its sleeve. Sandi knew she
should be distressed at such public spectacle, but knew
that unless Kara called it quits, she’d watch.

Someone snickered, “Pants her.”

Oh God, thought Sandi, but she still knew she’d watch.
She hoped that nobody could tell that she didn’t want
Kara to concede yet.

After a long moment, perhaps sensing Martin’s diverted
attention, perhaps sensing the hungry eyes, Kara made
her move. She twisted to the side and rolled her
opponent over her. Martin was still trying to extract
his hand from her top when she had him reversed, her
thigh wedged between his legs, her arms grasping him in
battle embrace. No camper had expected this.

The girls cheered at their Amazon fortune.

Sandi sensed that even from the bottom, Martin could
yet retopple Kara. She lacked the weight to pin him.
But he didn’t rise. Rather, as could be seen from
Sandi’s angle, Kara was thrusting her leg again and
again against Martin. He tried to keep her at bay, but
again best seen from Sandi’s vantage, soon was rocking
against her pressure. As Martin succumbed to Kara’s
cadence, she covered his mouth with hers. His right
hand reclaimed her breast while his other hand al last
freed her right elbow from her tangle of clothing. She
lifted her neck so that he could push off her shirt and
pulled her arms inward so that he could at last remove
her bra.

Topless Kara controlled the rest of the match. Again
and again her thigh drove against her surrendering
victim. Some of the girls begin to count. One, two,
three, four, five, six, seven until Martin gasped and
shuddered, his face flushed. Kara grinned wildly and
thrust her leg more slowly against him until he lay
still. She gave him a kiss. Breasts proud, she flopped
on her back beside him.

After several moments, she nestled her head on his
shoulder and pulled his arm around her to shield her
chest. The two contestants were whispering to each
other. Kara rested a knee over his pants, but not
before Sandi could see the spot.

Sandi too was as wet as when she masturbated. Wetter,
even.

Antlers, knowing they had witnessed an orgasm, cheered
and claimed their underwear. Sandi, who had never seen
a male climax before, was surprised at its suddenness.
She was more surprised at her own arousal that begged
completion.

The Bear Paw boys faded away. Sandi heard one of them
say that Martin may have lost, but he’d had the most
fun.

The counselors seemed pleased too. Sal’s arms were
around Lee Anne’s shoulders, Lee Anne not seeming to
care that anyone could see Sal massaging her breast.
Sandi figured that given the event, maybe it wasn’t
even that big a deal.

Walking back, Kara analyzed, “Show ’em some tit and
they’re sunk. But you don’t want to win by too much,
you know. I gave him my panties that they stole for
doing a nice job getting my bra off.” Looking around,
she added, “It’s fun to watch, girls watching a girl, I
mean. Makes us want to get naked ourselves.”

They walked on. Kara thought again, “Hell, maybe I just
should have lost all the way. Win the damn thing and
your end up the horny one.” She laughed at the irony.

After lights out, Sandi replayed the contest in her
mind to protract her arousal. Kara being stripped, wide
eyed and laughing. Kara’s breasts. The turn-about.
Kara’s leg. Martin panting. Holding each other at the
end.

ENCOUNTER

Sandi wanted to meet boys, any boys, so when she passed
Sean and Jacob from Bear Paw on the campfire path she
smiled big. “Hey!”

“What’s up?”

“Not much. You guys?” She hoped they could tell she had
on her black bra.

“Just looking around, wanna come along?” the boys
exchanging glances.

“Sure.”

“Martin damn near gave Kara the kinda freestyle she
needs,” surmised Sean inaccurately, but adequately
conveying his bias as they walked. “He was just a
little too quick.”

“She did OK,” countered Sandi, titillated that he’d
opened the subject.

They headed toward the fire site, then across the
creek. They chatted about camp food. Sandi liked how
they laughed when she described the spaghetti as dead
white worms. Sean had a fun laugh, she decided.

Arriving at a mossy patch behind a fallen log, Jacob
flopped down, “Rest time.”

Sandi sat down beside Jacob and Sean claimed the spot
to her other side. They gossiped about the counselors.
They were pretty sure that Sal and Lee Anne were “going
out”. Sandi laughed with them at the verb choice.

“Come on, Sandi, it’s rest time,” suggested Sean,
stretching out. She followed suit. A boy on either
side, the sun through the branches, this was pretty
fine. Jacob and Sean seemed to have more “inside
information” (they laughed when they called it that) on
their counselors, but Sandi changed the subject when
things drifted too much that way.

“Hey, Sandi,” asked Sean, turning toward her. “Your
cabin set for ‘Do it till Dawn’?”

She wasn’t prepared for that one, but managed “Sure,”
so as to not sound fazed.

“Us too,” the reply. Then another surprise, “Ever been
kissed in the ear?”

Kissing was her business. “Maybe.” She started to sit
up.

Sean rolled his shoulder enough over hers to thwart her
escape and ran his tongue upward against her ear. “Like
this.”

“Don’t”. It tickled, she decided, but didn’t tell them.
She tried to act like it was no big thing, a guy
kissing her ear.

“Like this, then?” running his tongue inward. She
realized he was pinning her tighter with his shoulder
and that Jacob’s weight was restraining her other. She
minded the closeness, but found it exciting to be
between two boys.

“I said, don’t”, she repeated with what she hoped was
enough conviction.

“Ever done the rest?” Sean hooked a knee over hers.

“Let me up!” Fooling around was one thing, but not
here.

“Like had something funner than a tongue inside you?”
Sean now had a leg between hers, his shorts wedged
across her knee. She knew that he wanted her to wiggle.
But lying still might encourage him, too. Visions of
Kara’s freestyle came to her, but she knew she lacked
Kara’s attitude.

“Come on,” suggested Sean, straddling Sandi’s leg more
fully. “You’ll like it.”

They weren’t really doing anything, she hoped. She
didn’t want to be a prude. It was mixed up, what to do.
She pushed back just a little until she sensed the lump
in his pants. She hoped that it looked like she was
just trying to shove him off.

“I’ll bet mine’s the first big one you’ve felt, even!”
Sean grinned, now more aggressive with his hips. “We’re
just goofing around together,” as his palm crept to her
chest. “How ’bout you be my date at “Do it till Dawn’?”
seemingly serous.

That didn’t seem right, making her decide right now.
“Don’t know.” Sandi didn’t realize how hard her heart
was pounding until she felt its throb against Sean’s
hand. Jacob’s hand was on her other side. It wasn’t
fair, she thought, two against one. It had to be fair,
like it was for Kara.

One of the two was tugging her tee-shirt upward. “Wanna
give us a little souvenir?” Jacob was reaching for her
bra. “You donate or we liberate.”

She tried to buy time. “No fair!” Their intent made her
almost giddy. Maybe they’d let her take her bra off
under her tee-shirt, she wondered. It would be because
they made her. She pictured Kara’s breasts, how
everybody watched.

Sandi’s nipples showed through her now-exposed bra. She
wanted them to see.

“Lift up,” interjected Jacob. “We just want your bra,
is all. Come on. We’ll give it back.”

She remembered how she’d become damp when Kara was
bared. Kara just laughed afterwards. Sandi arched her
back so he’d find her hooks.

“Our cabin’s rematch,” declared Sean, letting her knee
stoke him. “You’ll love getting your cherry popped,”
Sean spoke in seriousness. “I’m not like Martin. I’ll
hold my horses, help you come too.”

“She going to fuck us,” laughed Jacob. “She really is!”

Oh my God, Sandi realized. With breath she didn’t know
she possessed she yelled, “Stop it!”

There’d been nobody to hear, she realized afterwards,
but the two boys looked startled and sat up, letting
Sandi scramble free.

“Hey, we were just kidding.”

“Well it wasn’t funny,” pulling her top down.

“Remember our date,” offered Sean, regaining his
coolness. “Bye bye, nice leg, till ‘Do it till Dawn’,”
drawing has palm across his crotch.

She realized that her knee hadn’t minded, just her
brain, just when Jacob said, “fuck.”

RETRIBUTION

The boys were braggarts; the story was already
circulating how the two had laid this girl who dared
them. It was true, Sandi knew, that she’d gone along at
first. Sean’s lump stroking against her. Him knowing
that she was pushing back. Them trying to get her bra
off. Scary, but exciting.

But everyone would believe the exaggeration; it wasn’t
how she wanted to be known when they said whom. Guys
like that never shut up.

It was Kara who could tell she’d been the one. “Sandi,
you didn’t give it up for those losers, did you?”

How did Kara know she’d have “given it up,” wondered
Sandi? Was her virginity that obvious?

Kara read her mind. “I can tell. You’re too precious.
That’s not the point, though. If it’s bullshit they’re
saying, we shut ’em up.”

Sandi told the story, even the part about pushing back.
That was the hard part to admit. She hoped that Kara
would understand, wouldn’t think that she was a prude
and wouldn’t think that she was a slut.

“They’re assholes,” summarized her friend. “You were
just swimming way too far from shore, sister. If you
hadn’t yelled, they’d have raped you and left you with
the blame. So maybe you learned something. But they’d
didn’t learn crap.”

Antlers began its quest for justice. By the next
evening, Lee Anne had conferred with Sal. “OK, listen
up now. Sal doesn’t want to know details, but you just
tell me where you want to get them.”

After tactical discussion, Becky told Lee Anne that the
boys might enjoy a little hike up to the Lookout Tower.
Sal accordingly sent the pair to retrieve a six-pack
said to be stashed.

Sandi could have participated, but Kara said she didn’t
have to. “You’ve dealt with those farts enough.” Thus
what Sandi knew about the retribution was what her
cabin mates shared.

Shannon and Becky had met the boys on the path and
induced them into the trees. “Salivating,” said
Shannon. The waiting Antlers had the boys on the ground
before they’d sorted out the turnabout. The girls who’d
suggested kicking their genitals blue had been
outvoted, at least temporarily. They’d wrenched the
boys’ arms backwards and used duct tape to bind their
hands.

“So we hear that you two are pretty good,” Becky had
said. “Sandi even said she felt your cock,” looking at
Sean, “and helped you come.”

Sandi was dismayed. She’d just bumped it a few times.

When Sean denied coming, “That’s not what you told Bear
Paw. You can’t lay a girl without coming,” ruled
Shannon.

Becky and Shannon goosed their captives. “Zilch down
there. Guess we gotta go the other way, then,” ordered
Shannon. “Roll ’em over.”

Shannon had a wooden spoon. “Vaseline?” she’d asked,
using the handle to dab petroleum jelly around their
butt holes. “Got the camera ready, Dianne?” But not
inserting was the girls’ choice of victory, something
for the two to think about.

The parting words were the best, Sandi thought. “You
guys figure out the tape. Watch out, though. Sometimes
when prisoners get free, the first one untied fucks the
other.” Becky said she just made it up on the spot.

In the report, Bets took her Sandi’s hand. “Now they’re
historical assholes, at least.”

Back in the cabin, Kara told everybody that Sandi was
one smart cookie, the way she’d yelled to stop them.
“Even if nobody can hear, chickenshits get worried.”

For the rest of camp, Sean and Jacob lived in the
shadows.

DEMO

“Listen up!” It was Lee Ann’s counselor voice. “Tonight
at lights out we have a demo on dating procedure.”
Needless to say, Sandi was curious.

That evening the girls, flashlights ready, gathered
around Lee Anne’s bed. Their counselor produced a
banana. “So let’s say that your steady is ready.”

At first Sandi missed the connection, but the
surrounding giggles signaled the obvious — this was a
penis, a big one at that.

“So maybe you already know this stuff,” looking at
Shannon and Becky, girls she knew did know. “Well the
tennis pros never stop practicing. Or maybe you don’t
plan on needing to know for a while,” glancing at Sandi
and several others. “Things sometimes just happen.
Maybe a guy pressures you but you can do something to
stay safe. So the thing is that no matter what he says,
you’re not going to do him unless he wears a rubber.
We’re talking non-negotiable, OK?”

A few nods.

“Like he forgets to bring one, you have one ready. Like
he forgets to put it on, you put it on him, OK?” more
emphatically.

They all nodded, Sandi fully. She’d learned about
condoms in Health Ed, the theory, anyway.

“I’ve got lots more in my blue bag, so you know where.”
Lee Anne dumped a selection of foil wrapped packages
onto her pillow. “Take one and open it. Just put the
wrappers back and I’ll get rid of them.”

Sandi selected a Trojan, a brand of which she’d heard,
and unwrapped her package. The latex felt slippery.

“They have expiration dates, even. Some of yours have
little ribs and stuff. They say it’s for us, but it’s
not really. Push the middle with your thumb. If it
doesn’t act like it’ll unroll, turn it around. It’s
hard to see sometimes. Try it.”

Sandi realized that it was hard to tell, even with a
flashlight.

“See the little pouchy place? You don’t want a bunch of
air in there, so sort of pinch it down when you start.
Like this.” She deftly deployed the condom on the
banana. “But use two hands. He likes your hands on him
anyway. Now pass around Mr. Banana and put yours on
him. Just roll it back off when you’re done. They say
don’t reuse ’em, but it’s up to you. They can slip off
afterwards, so get it out of you before stuff spills.”

Some of the girls giggled at their efforts, but Sandi
was dead serious in her practice roll. She’d heard that
gel was a good idea the first time.

“You can go home with poison ivy, but you can’t go home
with a baby. That’s the camp rule not on the wall.”

At breakfast, she caught Bets also slipping a banana
into her pocket. They blushed and then laughed.

JASON

Jason was a cute guy, both Sandi and Bets agreed —
nice looking, funny, not stuck up. Best the girls could
tell, he wasn’t taken, but sometimes that’s hard to
know for nice guys. They laugh around with everybody,
not huddle in a corner with their chick. The word was
that he was available, anyway.

Sandi and Bets debated the possibility of dating Jason,
“dating” in the camp sense, that is. You talked, got
seen together and made. You could end up doing it till
dawn. Maybe.

“Go ahead, Bets.” And Bets did just that. The talking.
The walking together. The petting.

“What’s he like?”

“Oh, just regular.”

“No, I mean what did he do?”

“I guess he kissed me.”

“So you kissed him back, right?”

“A little bit.”

“Did he, you know, try to?”

“Yeah.”

“Like inside your top?”

“Just a little.”

“You think he would?”

“Maybe.”

Bets had her steady. Sandi had missed a chance, but at
least Bets got there. When Sandi realized that she
wasn’t even mad at Bets, she realized that Bets was
really her friend. The two held hands as they walked to
breakfast.

KARA

Ever since Kara had beaten Martin at freestyle, Sandi
presumed her to be master of the male race. Sandi had
even asked her about testicles, functionally explained
in Health Ed, but practically yet confusing. Kara
seemed neither inclined to under- nor overstate her
experience. “I’ve maybe ping ponged five or six, guys
that is. Twelve balls, we’ll call it. They never say
don’t. Don’t squeeze them or anything, is all I can
report.”

A tenth-grader like Kara would have her pick at camp,
Sandi figured. There wasn’t a Bear Paw boy, Sal told
Lee Anne, that didn’t jack off after the freestyle
match. Antlers roared at the thought of a cabin-full of
boys huffing and puffing in their sleeping bags as they
dreamed about Kara’s breasts.

Sandi finally got up the nerve, “You know how you
pinned Martin, that time? Your leg did it, right?”

“Our secret weapon, I call it. That and his brain. My
buddy, Martin. I guess we have a little history now,
right? Everybody thinks we fuck, I guess.”

“I thought maybe since…”

Kara looked at her a moment and hit her shoulder.
“Jeeze, Sandi, it’s no secret in Antlers, anyway.”

“What’s not?”

Kara paused a moment, “Tish, you know.”

“Tish?” Tish was the reserved one. She knew a ton of
bad jokes, the standard prank menu.

Kara saw that Sandi didn’t know. “We’re in love, I
mean. The girl way.”

Sandi gulped. Kara and Tish, the girl way? She more-or-
less knew the disconcerting translation. Sandi figured
that she’d know one when she saw one. “Are you
lesbians, then?”

“When we get naked, anyway. I’ve done it more with
boys, but Tish makes me mushy.”

Sandi must have taken an inadvertent step backwards.

“Shoot, Sandi. I know you’re not.”

“How?” Witnessing Kara being stripped had led to her
own sleeping-bag fantasies. When they’d joked in the
cabin about Martin, she’d lain awake until the others
were asleep, not thinking only of Martin.

“I pay attention,” volunteered Kara, more explanation
being superfluous. “It’s OK, thinking about each other.
It’s about being girls. The thing is, though, I’m still
a shit-load smarter than you about boys, so you just
consider me a resource about long funny looking
things.”

Sandi nodded.

“And balls too, of course.” Kara fluttered her eyes.
“And here’s the way we can test the alternative.” Kara
leaned forward and kissed Sandi on the lips.

Not knowing what to do, Sandi stood there, nipples
hardening.

“See? It proves it,” confirmed Kara.

“Proves what?”

“If you were waiting for my move, you’d have melted
like your marshmallow. Nips are just a reflex thing. If
you thought I was weird, though, you’d be outa here. So
you need a funny long thing and figure I know what I’m
talking about.”

Sandi grinned.

“I told you I’m a shit-load smart about this stuff,”
Kara returned to her deadpan. “Probably you want to
feel my tits maybe? Nip on nip, us part-time dykes call
it. But sorry, sister,” ruled Sandi’s first known
lesbian, if only part-time. “So I’ll blow you a kiss,”
which she demonstrated with theatrics, “in your dreams
every time you remember me under Martin.”

“Remember what?” countered Sandi, scratching her head.

“Freestylers on both sides remember. In their sleeping
bags. Time to get you out of yours.”

Sandi had a full-time friend.

It was a few days later when Sandi took Kara up on her
resource offer. It was only a week till “Do it till
Dawn”. Were there just the Seans and Jacobs?

“Well,” weighed Kara, pleased, “you gotta tell me
exactly what to shop for. I know both aisles, right?”

“Like help me find a boyfriend.”

“Now how did I know you’d say that? Smarter than shit,
I tell myself when you forget to.”

“You won’t tell everybody, will you, that, you know,
that I…”

“Got a little coaching? Trust big sister on that one.”

STEPHEN

Lunchtime the next day, Kara cornered Sandi. “See that
guy at the table behind us, red and black shirt?”

“His name’s Stephen,” offered Sandi. She knew every
boy’s name.

“Right. Well he needs a girlfriend.”

“You mean…?”

“Right. Just doesn’t know much about taking initiative.
I think he’s cuter than shit.”

“You think so?”

“Remember who’s the expert here. Look at his eyes. So
just go talk to him. Not about going out or anything,
just stuff. But work the word ‘dawn’.”

Stephen wasn’t that hard to chat with. Talk bounced
between school, music, movies, camp and life in
general. She liked how he didn’t try to sound big-time.

But she had to find out. “Oh, gross, Stephen. I can’t
believe your cabin ate that many Skittles. That you
didn’t all barf in your sleeping bags.” Then she took
the plunge, “That you weren’t barfing it up till dawn.”
She paused, red faced.

Stephen paused too. “Uhh, no. We were just having a
good time till dawn.” Sandi detected the drop in his
voice. He was as red.

Sandi knew she had to be decisive. “So, wanna’ go for a
walk?”

At the appointed time the two headed along the lake
front. Sandi was nervous, but Kara said just be
herself, that she couldn’t do better than that. Kara
had looked at her and said that with no make up, no
special outfit, no nothing, Sandi was one sexy girl.

“Stephen, you going steady or anything?”

“Hardly. You?”

“Hardly.”

The two walked silently for a bit. “Stephen?”

“Yeah?”

“You ever wanted to go out?”

“I guess.”

“Me too.”

After another pause, Sandi pursued. “Maybe just at
camp, you know?”

“Maybe. But sometimes you just don’t…”

“I know.” She took his hand and they walked on.

“Sandi?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe, I mean, maybe we could hang out or something.
You’re kinda nice.”

Sandi recognized his thought as a compliment, not a
pick-up line gleaned from boasts in his cabin. “If you
wanted to. Just for here, you know.”

Stephen laughed, “Just for here.” He squeezed her hand.

Sandi liked him. She thought another minute and decided
to come clean. “You know how I said about you guys
barfing till dawn, the dawn part?”

He looked down, “I guess.”

“Somebody put me up to it, to check you out.”

“Somebody wanted to check me out?” now looking at her
curiously.

“I mean somebody was trying to help me check you out.
About the dawn part,” she added. “It doesn’t matter.”

Stephen tried to release her hand, but she held fast.
He looked down again. “I don’t know, I mean I do know
about it, but not about me.”

“OK. The funny thing is that the someone who tried to
help me just told me you were cute. The thing is,
you’re more than that. It was the wrong reason, this
dawn deal, but I’m glad she got me to try.”

The two faced each other and kissed. It wasn’t like
Michael’s back home. It wasn’t like Sean’s precursor to
assumed dominance. It was their way to think together
on the lake front.

Sandi swallowed, but had to know, “Are you a virgin
too?”

PREPARATIONS

“Do it till Dawn” was one day away. Walking to crafts,
Sandi turned toward Kara. “What are you and Tish going
to do?”

Kara looked upward, “Well, sure as shit, not show up at
the boatyard and give birds like you pointers.”

“Oh.” For some reason Sandi felt sad.

Maybe her tinge showed, as Kara followed up, “I think
there’s four of us not going, so we’ll be OK, maybe
have a girls’ party ourselves.”

Sandi started, stopped, and then started again. “Tara
and Mona?”

Kara saved the difficulty of ending. “Me and Tish are
just girls too. We’re going to tell stories and eat
stuff. Give me a break!”

“You’re not going to do it?”

“Do it? Are we talking about sex, per chance? Shoot,
no. It’s going to be a girls’ night, what half of you
in the boatyard will wish you stayed for.” Kara laughed
at her prediction.

Kara continued. “For me and Tish, it’s pretty much
whenever. It’s not like anybody notices when two girls
wander off. Not all the shit they’d think if you
slipped off with a boy.” She looked at Sandi, “Ever
think anything when you’d come back and me and Tish
would be reading side-by-side on her bunk?”

“You were just reading.”

“It’s best on your own pillow,” with a flutter of
Kara’s hand.

Later that afternoon, Kara signaled Sandi to wait in
the cabin till the others left. “You know, Sandi, what
I think is that maybe you should let them see your tits
at the boatyard.”

“Like you let Martin undress you that time? You wanted
him to, right?”

“Like I said, girls like to see each other get
stripped. It’s not like here in the cabin where we just
walk around naked.”

“I’ve never done it before. Been stripped, I mean.”

Kara reached around Sandi’s jersey, unhooked her and
slipped a hand over Sandi’s breast. “You’re so pretty.
So sweet.”

Sandi put her hands on Kara’s shoulders.

“Afterwards you tell me, OK?” Kara concluded. “We’ll go
for a walk. Like I said, nobody notices when two girls
go off.”

That night, Becky let everybody know that she couldn’t
hold off another 24. The rest saw it for what it was,
an opportunity to stay her self-perceived role as
leader in things illicit. Let her, thought Sandi.

When Lee Anne was in the shower, Becky made known her
plan. “Chris can’t go another 24 either. Once you get
in the regular groove, you know.” Sure, thought Sandi.
“So Lee Anne’s promised to sleep right through a little
activity. Don’t hear; don’t know, you know. ‘Course
maybe some of you sleep lighter.” She laughed for
effect.

Becky made sure they all knew when she let Chris in
sometime after midnight. She made sure they all heard
her toss her sleeping bag to the floor. She made them
hear every possible zipper and snap. She made sure they
all heard the condom process. She made sure they all
heard her gasp. She made them hear how actively she
finished.

Even Sandi could distinguish noises made in heat from
noises made for broadcast. The actual coupling lasted
not that long, not what Sandi had been led to believe
from the sagas she’d attentively heard Becky document.

Sandi knew the floor-rolling was for effect, but she
couldn’t refrain projecting herself expert in Becky’s
role. Sandi sensed that Kara knew when her hand took
the male role in her own sleeping bag. Sandi sensed
that she wasn’t the only one.

The next morning, Becky was pleased to make it known
that Chris would bring plenty of rubbers for all the
guys. “Free, even, ’cause he kyped them. We can’t just
keep borrowing from Lee Anne.”

When Sandi saw Bets, she knew that her friend had
masturbated too. The two held hands on the way to
breakfast.

Later that morning, Kara ended a wry observation about
mice in their cabin, “and the main thing is that
tonight’s your thing. Not just ‘you’ you, but you and
him.” She pondered a possibility, “If we knew which
boat, maybe I could get under the one beside you and
we’d have this cricket noise code. Like one chirp means
slow down.”

Sandi did her best to look thoughtful. “So what’s the
code if I’m facing the wrong way?”

“I’ll croak like a frog that swallowed our mouse.”

The laughing pair sat down with an arm around the
other’s shoulders.

Kara’s demeanor turned less frivolous. “Seriously,
Sandi, can I touch you just to remind me how pretty
you’ll be?”

“We’ll pretend you’re Stephen,” Sandi grinned, but then
added, “But if he’s off somewhere, you can be Kara,”
turning inward.

“Nips like jewels,” admired her friend, making them
emerge with barely a touch,

“Kara, there’s not like that because I’m… you know.
It’s because I care about you, sort of.”

“I know. Sometimes we get confused. I got some shit to
figure out too.”

BOAT YARD

Lee Anne hadn’t even bothered to change pajamas. She
just waved them goodbye, pointed toward her blue bag
and slipped out the door.

Tara, Mona, Tish and Kara, the four who’d opted out of
the boatyard plan, arranged themselves so they’d be set
to talk. The disparity didn’t escape Sandi. Left behind
were two girls who wanted to remain virgins and two
girls who could rape them in concert. Sandi wasn’t
exactly sure how lesbians went about this, but she’d
heard they know how. The ones they do it to rarely tell
and sometimes become lesbians too. It helps to be raped
the right way. But Sandi knew that wouldn’t happen
here, that Kara would probably help Tara and Mona
figure out how to decide when it was right with a boy.
The four homebodies had purloined a popcorn popper from
the camp kitchen. “We’ll save you some, we promise.”

Sandi, Dianne, Bets, Shannon and Becky arrived at the
boatyard two minutes after the appointed time. They
didn’t want to seem too intent. Stephen, Trace, Jason,
Chris and Art were waiting, likewise doing their best
to seem casual. Having made it there, no one seemed
sure of the next steps.

“Hi, guys,” offered Becky.

A few mumbles in return.

“So,” prodded Becky, “just a time to get together.”

She laughed awkwardly. One of the boys joined her,
probably assuming an innuendo. This event could fall
apart without more guidance, Sandi realized. Maybe that
would be for the better, as Stephen wasn’t even looking
up.

“So maybe we just choose our spots.” Becky looked at
Chris. “We’ll take the one close to the path. Anybody
comes snooping, I’ll stop them.”

Actually, thought Sandi, that was generous. The first
couple caught would be incriminated while the others
could be getting presentable.

Becky and Chris made their way between the first boats
on the bank. Shannon and Art were next, not looking at
their fellow campers. When Bets and Jason, hand in
hand, started for the third spot, Sandi caught
Stephen’s eye and bade him follow. He seemed relieved
being told. Sandi wanted Bets as a neighbor. Dianne and
Trace claimed the end space.

The blankets provided the boys’ excuse for protracted
arrangement. Sandi slipped off her flip-flops and sat
down while Stephen minimized the wrinkles, then crawled
on. Stephen sat beside her and the two looked across
the upturned boats.

The other couples looked confident to Sandi, though she
knew that Bets, for one, was nervous too. Bets caught
Sandi’s glance and mouthed, “OK.”

OK, what, thought Sandi? Bets was OK? You’re on your
own OK? Stephen was still looking at the water.

Sandi let her elbow settle in the crock of his. “Hey,
Stephen,” she whispered. “You know I really like you
for you, not what somebody tells you to do.”

“Thanks.”

“So we don’t have to do anything we don’t want.”

“OK.” He broke his lakeward gaze and looked at Sandi.
“Maybe you’ll kiss me, though?”

Sandi almost giggled in relief. Of course she’d kiss
him! She gave him one on the cheek, just lightly. Bets
and Jason were kissing too. On the lips. She twisted
her head around to find Stephen’s mouth.

He let her kiss him for just a moment, and then wrapped
his arms around her shoulders. She beckoned her tongue
against his. Sandi wanted Stephen.

Kara’s being undressed came to Sandi’s, how Kara had
said that girls want to see other girls. It took but a
moment for Sandi to pull her sweatshirt over her head.
Bets followed suit. To Sandi, they were stripping one
another. Somehow Sandi knew how Kara and Tish made
love.

She wasn’t sure if Stephen noticed her lace, but knew
when he saw her nipples harden beneath. She gave him
only enough time to barely squeeze before she thrust
his wrist around her side. He fumbled with her snaps
until a fortuitous squeeze disengaged all three hooks
at once.

She started to tremble.

She lifted her arms so Stephen could remove her bra.
The lake breeze swirled around breasts, ivory in the
starlight, areolae no larger than a teaspoon, nipples
pea-sized. She’d always seen them as pointy, a girl’s,
but here they looked rounder, almost a woman’s.

She lifted Stephen’s jersey and he pulled it off the
rest of the way. His nipples were as hard as hers.

Looking to the side, she watched Bets bare breasted. As
Stephen’s tongue again found Sandi’s, her friend
disappeared with a salute.

HULLS

The rest would be about boyfriends. Sandi pulled
Stephen onto their blanket so that whatever happened
now would be out of sight. The stars magnified the
sound of cold water lapping on the shore. Looking
upward, hulls were their walls on either side. The
constellations seemed close.

Stephen pushed his face to hers, “Sandi, you’re
beautiful.”

Maybe I am beautiful, she thought. To Stephen. To Bets.
To Kara.

Stephen bit his lip and placed his hand on her stomach.
He hesitated, then whispered, “I can do it, but maybe
not very good. Just if you want to.”

Whispers, breathing, muffled promises and proclamations
around them. Some Antlers were well on their way. She
sucked her tummy in as much as she could. “I want to.”

She worked her knee between Stephen’s thighs. Stephen
slid his hand to the snap on her shorts and twisted it
open. “Chris gave me something.”

Sandi lifted her hips. “Not this time.” They both knew
the meaning of “this time”; there’d never be another.
Practicing on the banana seemed so long ago, so
childish.

His hand played on her panties, her sparse hair
bouncing within. When her shorts intervened, Stephen
pushed them to her knees and then off. The two looked
at the fabric bulge between her thighs, the span of
ridge to dip to ridge. Sandi parted her thighs until
Stephen could trace two fingers along the cotton’s
outer sides and a middle finger along the depression
between. Her stripping should be perfect, as parley,
not as conquest.

Stephen’s touch pressed the cotton against her bud. Her
hips rustled the blanket, a whisper in the sounds of
the lakeshore, until he slipped within her panties,
through her wispy fleece, between her parting lips and
upon the seed-like hardness.

Sandi bounced with each tiny stroke. When his fingertip
slackened, her pursuit returned him to her tiny organ.
Her nose sensed a feminine overlay on the fresh lake
air, as her ears registered the arousal of those around
her. Her impending orgasm welled.

Sandi drew her hand up the inside of Stephen’s jeans
and had grasped his thrust before she realized what she
was holding. It was distinct even within the folds of
the denim, its hardness dispelling any question about
it being a delicate organ. Her other hand attacked his
belt. The button beneath required just a twist and he
was already lifting so she’d find his zipper. Beneath
that were his underpants, the final barrier just the
elastic. She slipped her hand within.

His penis seemed warm, moist, larger than she’d sensed
from the outside. Sandi realized what her friends meant
about masturbating a boy, how you could drive the
looseness up and down, slack skin on ready substance.

“You’re so big.” She wanted to say something and didn’t
know what else to say.

She pushed off his pants and pulled him toward her
until the back of his wrist lay on the back of hers.
Each could manually satisfy the other’s wide-eyed lust.
But wanting to be now a woman, she pushed Stephen’s
wrist away and pulled him nearer until their naked
erections caressed.

They held themselves so until the suddenness of her
pelvis broke the kiss and propelled him from her
clitoris, down her slickened labia and to her openness.

The woman part of her would know what to do, she
prayed. Indeed, her instinctive muscular contraction
succumbed to innate complicity as he penetrated. With
each push, Sandi felt her muscles relax; her tissue
soften; her juices smooth, her body tingle.

When Stephen was at last fully within, the two held
each other in motionless acknowledgement. It was only
after they were fully coupled that Sandi began again to
raise and drop her hips, rubbing his masculinity within
her flesh. Slowly they began intercourse.

Around them, muted cries of exhortation, exertion and
ecstasy mingled with the night. The rocking sounds of
boy on girl merged with the waves.

The two virgins concentrated on their stroking. Slumber
party stories were always about either foreplay or
climax. The time intervening was the delicacy of which
she’d not been told.

At last they begin their ascent toward orgasm.
Tenderness succumbed to puppy-like challenges unspoken.
Follow me. Take the lead. Hang on till I let you go.
Delighting caresses succumbed to smothering kisses.

His body drove against hers; hers thrashed back. The
two were fucking.

Sandi heard nothing, though afterwards Bets told her
that she’d gasped with each thrust.Sandi’s orgasm
soared above the boats, the boatyard, the camp, the
lake, everywhere.

Stephen shuddered her so much that she feared she’d
expel him, but she remained attached to accept his last
seeds. She squeezed and squeezed, and to her delight,
felt another wave herself.

Only in descent did Sandi realize that she was both
energized and exhausted. She’d made love. Perhaps she
hardly yet knew Stephen enough to love all of him, she
later admitted to Bets, but whatever stage this was,
they’d still made love. Bets had heard them and it was
real.

The plan, of course, was to do it till dawn. But
somehow all five Antlers knew that it was about doing
it once together.

She’d seen Bets stripped and Bets had seen her. That
was part of the story too. As Kara said, girls like to
see girls. But nudity residual to lovemaking was for
Stephen alone. The couple dressed lying on their backs.

Heads popped up between the hulls. With goodnight
kisses, the campers retreated. Sandi and Bets held
hands on the path to Antlers, each knowing that they
were wonderfully older.

CHECK-OUT DAY

When you’re not quite fifteen, life’s issues tend to be
the social ones. The big issue, of course, is boys.
That’s pretty much the reason for coming to camp, to
meet boys your folks won’t even know about, to discover
stuff. Back home, everybody knows everything, but
camp’s what you make of it.

Next year Sandi would be back. So would Bets. The two
didn’t know about Stephen or Jason. If the guys
returned, the girls would double date where they could
strip together and hear each other’s lovemaking. They’d
make the guys use rubbers.

If Stephen and Jason didn’t come back, at least Sandi
and Bets would know how to flirt. But Bets added, “You
know what? We’ll have a good time whoever shows up.”

The two would have a great time, acknowledged Sandi.
They ended up sisters, hands held for mutual
encouragement. The two checked in as girls who wanted
to discover something about guys. The two found guys
who were, in fact, the sort their parents might even
like. The two showed their breasts and felt the breeze.
The two lost their virginities just a rowboat apart.
They’d given themselves freely and to boys with whom
they wanted to share it. The fact that they both
climaxed was cause for more popcorn after they returned
to Antlers. Boys brag; girls celebrate, Kara had noted.

Kara had warned that afterwards Sandi would wonder if
it was right. Physically Sandi was a proud little hen,
but that didn’t say much about validity. She was happy
because Stephen was happy and she knew that he was
happy because she was happy. She and Bets decided that
some things are just meant to be circular.

Stephen had been so sweet; Sandi decided, that she
might love a guy like him even if they didn’t have sex.
Bets countered that sex was biologically necessary.
They both pointed out that the other was arguing from a
very small sample size. They’d give it more thought.
“No,” said Bets, “more practice.”

“Do it till Dawn”, Kara had observed afterwards, was a
camp activity like the snipe hunt; a “rite”, she called
it. She’d given Sandi her big-sister look,
illustrating, “Like now you don’t go goo-goo when you
meet two assholes on the path.”

Sandi and Bets were checking out as young women who
realized they would never discover everything. That was
the best part. Maybe next year they’d discover they
were a super canoe team. Maybe they’d discover
something more about guys, even. Probably about sex,
but maybe more. They’d do it together. Sandi had never
had a sister with whom to discover things.

She’d gained two sisters, actually. Kara’s was the hand
that led her to find her own pace, realize her
questions, discover. Kara may have been a “shit-load
smarter” about a lot, but was still a sister exploring
the world too. Sandi had never had a sister to help her
along the path. She’d never had a sister who after the
deed could tell her that even when the “wonderful”
dulls a little, it’s still “neater than ice cream.” How
could Sandi not love her?

Sandi cried when she saw Kara stuffing her duffel. It
didn’t matter what the others thought. She ran over and
gave her friend a big kiss on the lips. Quick as a
wink, before any of the others could register it, Sandi
flicked her tongue against Kara’s. Kara flicked back.
That’s how they said goodbye.

As Becky wouldn’t be back either, she took it upon
herself to transfer her authority.

“So Sandi, you get it going next year, OK? My idea is
you maybe draw names. Whatta you think? Horny, right?
Maybe then everyone will want to keep at it till dawn,
like it says. You gotta remind the new girls about
using rubbers. The thing is, Chris had me going so much
that I about peed. Really! He sucked me so hard that I
came in his mouth. Ever suck a guy?”

Sandi’s thoughts had already emigrated. Bets close by.
Stephen asking. Stephen deep inside. How she squeezed
him while he climaxed. How she and Kara the next day
walked to the mossy patch by the fallen log. How Kara
said nothing when Sandi put a blanket in her daypack
and had then put Sandi’s pillow in hers.How Kara
stripped her and she, Kara. When they’d kissed, how
she’d melted like a marshmallow.

Camp was about boys. She was pretty much about boys
too; Sandi knew that much. Kara was about discovering
that love’s a larger issue.

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