Summer Camp - Cyd's Story

by HAL

Copyright© 2019 by HAL

Young Adult Sex Story: Read 'Summer Camp on the Lake' first. or second. It could work either way, hopefully. This is the story of Clive's girlfriend, Cyd. If Clive could be mistaken for Olive, then Cyd could be mistaken for Sid.

Caution: This Young Adult Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Humor   .

“Clive” said his girlfriend in a tone that he recognised as either ‘you’ve done something bad’ or ‘we need to talk’. “Clive can we talk?” Yup, here it comes, she’s breaking up with me, he thought. “It’s about the summer camps.” Oh shit! She’s heard about what went on. Who? How? He’d kept the delights of his summer camp escapades as quiet as it was possible to be, though his clear, unabashed, and very skilful techniques in bed (or in the field beyond the rugby pitches – an area officially left for hay making by the agricultural department, and used by everybody from Vice Chancellor Lomax and his third young secretary down to ... well down to students like Clive and his current girlfriend, who loved being fingered surrounded by knee high grass. Only the occasional overflight by the Army gave them some concern, so they used the grass nearer the trees now, better hidden from overhead view) were noticed by every girl who got to get him inside her pants. It was often that way round, once he’d demonstrated his kissing techniques.

Clive had had such a lot of practice over three summers in the USA, the word was out that he was a safe pair of hands – or rather sisters had suggested to younger sisters that they could do worse than book to go to SummaCamp as there was one who would teach them a lot and not go too far, at first. Parents were agreeably surprised to find their younger children willing to go to the same camp as their older girls, and pleased to see the older ones looking out for their siblings. Naturally they didn’t know that this included telling Clive the age and expectations of these younger girls. Clive never went beyond kissing and fondling with the campers, who were all too young for full sex; but the camp friends were a different matter. The leader of the camp found it gratifying that so many girls were willing to volunteer to move up to being helpers. She had a strong suspicion why, since she’d benefited from Clive’s accidental arrival that first year, but chose not to recognise it. He was good, kind, and definitely more flexible with Christian morals than might be normal, but some of the girls needed safe sexual experimentation. Her husband wouldn’t understand, she was sure, so he never found out; and Clive was the kind of boy who didn’t kiss and tell.

“Are you listening? You look distracted.” she said. “Good. Please, please don’t interrupt until the end.”

Cyd began her story. She was named Cyd indirectly because her grandmother loved Cyd Charisse, she (her grandmother) had wanted to be a dancer, and emulate Ms Charisse, but realised early that she wasn’t good enough. When her daughter was born, she named her Tula Cyd. When Cyd’s mother had her first child, she named her Cyd. Odd name, but it got her remembered.

“After you mentioned how much fun it was. I looked around for a summer camp for last summer, as you know. It did look fun. I found a Band Camp. I was very late applying, perhaps that was part of the problem. I rang them up. I got into loads of trouble because it cost Daddy a fortune for the phone bill. Anyway, they said yes, they had a place, someone had just dropped out so they needed a pianist. All I had to do was submit my forms. The line wasn’t good, and I had a cold. Probably didn’t help either.

Well, when I got there. I flew out the day after you, remember? No? Maybe not. We were only friends last summer term, please remember that. Well, when I got there, it ... Oh, how... ? Look, it was a boy’s camp. I’d said my name was Cyd, they heard Sid, of course. The forms didn’t specify gender, apparently the brochure did, but I didn’t read the detail. Detail has never been my strong point.”

“Bit of important detail.” Clive interjected “Sorry ... go on.”

“Thing is, they had no second choice. They needed a pianist to accompany people, to tune up against. It wasn’t just band music, they had jazz players, aspiring rock artistes, even some folk singers with guitars, and they had a small orchestra of wind and string players. They were really good, some of them. They ... what? Oh, yes, okay that can wait.

Anyway, turns out, they needed a pianist, and I needed a job. I played a piece for them. - Crocodile Rock by Elton John – and then my setting to Elegy on a Country Churchyard. They liked that and said I could stay. I really had no choice, I couldn’t come straight home again, Mummy would have smirked hugely about her little girl not being able to cope, and Daddy would have made pained, martyred expressions about the cost – which would be worse. I said I’d pay him back for the airfare. Of course I haven’t, and he knew I wouldn’t. Anyway, I couldn’t just turn round and come back.

So I made the best of a bad job. They put me up in my own room, all the other Mentors had to share.”

Clive was about to say something about the very idea of making her share with a bloke; but then he stopped himself, realising that that would have been his day dream ideal summer camp – until he went to SummaCamp and upped his game in reality. He just smiled at her.

“Well, I suppose it would be pretty strange to make me share with a boy. Anyway. Now you know. I feel better for telling you.”

Clive’s spider sense was tingling, “That’s it? Not one boy tried to get into your bed? You stayed celibate for the whole summer? As you say, we weren’t going out then, so anything you did was entirely reasonable.” As was anything I did, he thought.

“What? You think I became the camp bike? What kind of a girl do you think I am!” Once more, he smiled. Since, the night before, she had begged him to stop after five delightful orgasms (a celebratory reward for her good mid-term marks) with her legs in the air and him happily lapping a vagina that seemed to have a never ending flow of bubbly fluids, he knew precisely what sort of girl she was. He raised one eyebrow, a trick he’d practised all summer so he could get it just right; it always had the desired effect. “Well, there were one or two incidents.” she conceded, “But they weren’t my fault!”

“I would expect that even a bunch of wimpy flute players would hit on the prettiest girl in ... which State was it?”

“Wyoming, and not all male musicians are wimpy ... or gay.” she smiled at a memory. He patted the chair beside him.

“Shall I get some more coffee? I get the feeling this story may get more interesting.” He went off to get her a black coffee. She was stunning. Not necessarily beautiful, like Wynona-Lynn, one of the girls he’d introduced to threesomes in his spare time at his own camp; Wynona-Lynn was stunning with or without makeup, and with or without clothes, he mused. Cyd was different, she might even be ‘the one’. Tall – barely half an inch shorter than him – slim, without the girl-shaped hourglass that he had enjoyed with Winona-Lynn (or Mary-Lou, a girl whose hour-glass figure was more two-hour glass, but she carried it so well; she was very conscious of her own voluptuousness), but still with an erotic charge in her tight, tight jeans that, he was delighted to discover, didn’t hold her in at all for her bottom was as firm out of her clothes as in. She lacked the big busts of some of the girls from the summer, but she was the first girl whose nipples seemed to really have taste. He savoured the taste as he carried the cardboard ‘Cafe-U-Like’ drinks back to her. Then she looked up at him and he knew that he’d have to know everything; every detail; and he wouldn’t turn a hair at whatever antics she had got up to – and he doubted it could be much; she’d been quite innocent when they had first met; at least, he thought she had been.

“Look, nothing really happened, I just, ... well...” He took her hand and smiled reassuringly. “Okay, well, when I got there, there was a small group in uniform, a real marching band. They were marching up and down, practising some march or other. When they saw me, they nearly broke step. Nearly, but not quite. Then the leader called ‘Eyes Left!’ And as one, as they marched past, all swivelled their heads left to look at me and saluted! I went bright red. But it was flattering too.

At tea, I went in to the canteen and walked to a table with a spare place. These were some of the orchestra players; and they all stood up when I asked if I could join them. I thought I’d gone back to the 1950s. No, no, it was great. I was the belle of the ball!”

“You ring my bell too.” he smiled back. She tried to crack a smile at his poor joke, tried and failed. That was why he was beginning to think he loved her, she made an effort to pretend, but failed.

Would they have done that for any girl? Maybe, maybe not, she was very attractive. It had to help.

“The rule of the camp was that the Mentors sat with the campers, so I got to meet a lot of the campers. They were all very polite. No, no upskirt cameras, or robot controlled videos in the shower like in that awful film you made me watch.”

“None that you saw” Clive laughed.

“Don’t care what you say. They were really nice. I’m not sure many would have known how to build a robot anyway. They were all really dedicated to music. I had a list up which people could book my time on for playing accompaniment. Suddenly” she laughed “even the acapella group suddenly found they would like some piano support. Look, I liked them, they were nice boys, even the Rotten Apples – that was their group name, they thought they were hard, heavy rock, but their music was melodic and the lyrics were actually thoughtful and considerate. Anyway I thought they needed a reward, so I started wearing my blue skirt more.”

“Your blue skirt! The one that wraps round your tight little bottom like it likes you more than I do! The one that barely hides your -”

“Yes! Yes that one. But it gave me the freedom to play well, no fabric in the way.”

“None in the way of your -”

“Yes, okay.”

“Lucky boys.” Clive smiled again, she smiled back, he really was taking this very well.

“Anyway, I noticed a few of the musicians were spending equal time on their music, their instrument and my legs. I figured that I was helping them, they were learning how to read ahead so they had more time to look at me. And, yes, I was flattered.”

“It’s only flattery if it isn’t true. And you have stunning legs. Something you’ve in common with your namesake. I saw her in a film – Silk Stockings – a couple of weeks ago.”

“Look, you can admire them later; if you still want to after I finish.”

Soooo, it was going to get more interesting.

“The thing is, well, remember I wasn’t going out with anyone. I ... Mike was very good looking. He, umm, he played the saxophone; very well as it happens. We started playing duets and he was good -”

“You said that.”

“I said he was good looking, and played well, but he was good at playing duets too, and at improv. I mean improvisation.”

“Oh? Cos. I’m too stupid to know that?”

“Sorry. Well, we were playing late, and I was playing a piece of Beethoven, and he was improv-ing around it and turning it into a jazz piece. It ... oh it got me hot.”

“Hot? What you mean you were getting tired from playing the piano?” He maintained a straight face.

“No. I mean hot ... damp ... wet actually. I think it’s the vibrations from a sax, it turns me on. Anyway, he sensed I was focusing on him more than the piano, and, well I think he was a bit of a love-rat. He came on to me, and I didn’t turn him away. I ... that is, we ... started making out. The next thing I know, he’s pulling me through his bedroom window – there was a cctv in the entrance hall. And then I wasn’t wearing my blue skirt anymore.”

“You fucked him?”

“That’s crude. But yes, we made love. He didn’t even take off my knickers, he pulled them to one side and ... you know. That’s when I realised, he didn’t even try to make me come! You are way nicer like that.” Clive smiled, he’d had a lot of practice, with a lot of girls. He’d even made one girl come by just looking at her and telling her to clench her pelvic muscles. He may not have been born with the knack, but he’d learned it well now. “After he’d done me, he just fell asleep.”

“And you left?”

“Well, no. He was good looking, did I mention that?” Clive was starting to dislike him. “And I hoped he might wake and go down on me. He did wake, but he just wanted to have sex again; I told him off.”

“And left?”

“Not exactly, I ... let him. He was goo-”

“Yes, good looking, I get it. So, a good looking face and you drop your knickers?”

“It wasn’t just his face, he had a pretty good body too. And I hadn’t dropped them, I told you. Even that second time. He was very quick. I told him off, and left then. Well ... after he refused to go down on me.”

“Why? I’d do it in a flash if I was surrounded by sweaty boys and one hot girl.”

“Any port in a storm? He said it would be disgusting to lick up his own gizz. I was pretty annoyed with him, I wanted to know if brass and wind instrument players have better tongue control. Better than average, I mean, not better than you. Anyway ... Don’t keep interrupting, pleeeeaaase.” Clive had been about to speak again. “Well, I decided that if he couldn’t make me come. I++++++” here she dropped to a murmur and he couldn’t hear her.

“I didn’t catch that.”

“I said ... I’d make sure some of the other boys did. I’m not proud of myself.” But she was smiling. “The first boys should have been the rock group. But in fact it was the acapella boys. We practiced, and I thought they were maybe gay, that or bible class. They were so polite and respectful; I asked if they wanted to practice later, again. After nine, people were free to do what they wanted; there was little to do except watch TV, or play music. Or play games. We started with the music, they were really keen. They practised the same piece over and over, and over and over Bill got one note wrong. We took to calling him wrong-note Willie, until I saw he was upset by it. So I kissed him. The room went very quiet. Here we were, four boys and one girl in a practise room which had soundproofing – to stop the rooms from disturbing each other – and they were suddenly looking like thirsty men in a desert. Bill said he’d never kissed a girl before – he was tall, thin, very tidy and neat. So I kissed him again and gave him some tips about what to do with his tongue. Being a singer, he had good control. I pointed out that he’d better adjust his clothing before his wang broke off. He went bright red and then just pushed his hand down and adjusted it up. Then one of the others asked if I’d mind very much if he asked me to teach him too. That’s the way he put it. I was tempted to say ‘no, you can ask me, that’s fine’, but I thought he looked so pathetic. So I took his head in my hands and gave him a long, tongue-inserting, tight-hugging, kiss.

After that, the music was forgotten, and my lips were pretty sore by the time I’d gone round all four of them several times. They didn’t know where to put their hands. So I taught them the four positions – shoulders, then round the back to pull the girl in, then down to the small of the back – if the girl lets you, then down to the bottom. I had to explain that in a tight clinch like that, no girl wants to be stabbed by a jutting penis, but she might like to feel the hard rod between her and the boy; showing how much he liked her.

“And then?”

“Well, then we had to go to bed. Lights out, you see.”

“And? Come on, spill...”

“I told them that they could come round the back to my window, if they wanted. Bill was too nervous, but the other three came.” Clive arched his eyebrow, “Yes, yes, like I said, I’m not proud of what happened. They climbed in and we practised what they’d learned. Then we moved on to hand up the skirt. I was still annoyed with Mike.

I taught them what to do, gently stroking the backside, then slide round to the front and bring the girl on slowly. Don’t hurry, I said, and they didn’t. Then slide the fingers down inside the waist band, always be ready to retreat if she says no. Never force the issue because she might just say yes next time ... or the time after that. But, well, you know, if you force it, the girl will never see you again. So, by the time the third guy had carefully stroked me and coaxed me, I was really hot.

One of them asked if they could see. I asked if they wanted me to undress completely, and they nodded like a bunch of well-trained dogs. They were so desperate. So I said...”

“Yes? Come on, tell me the whole story.”

“I said that if they promised to each lick me to an orgasm, I’d undress completely. Naturally they said they would, if I’d teach them. So that’s what happened. End of story!”

“No, no, no, no. I want to know everything.”

“Well, okay. I suppose.

I undressed, and I thought their eyes were going to explode! They were out on stalks! So then I lay on the bed and Diego came over. I was shaving my bits last summer, so I was very exposed, I opened my legs wide, and became very conscious that the other two provided an audience. I gave a detailed tour of my genitals. They’d never seen one before! Then Diego pushed his face up between my legs and I gave careful instructions on the licking, the kissing, and the very, very, gentle nibbling. And I came, not as quickly as you can make me come, but it was quite exciting. Almost before he was out of the way, still licking his lips at the taste – a nice commendation, Silus Wang was taking his place. Half-Chinese I think. Like Diego, he was more enthusiastic than skilful.

Look, I swear, nothing more happened.”

He wondered what she meant, then realised. She was saying it wasn’t a gang bang. He had learnt to interpret womanly misinformation well by now. So if they weren’t a gang bang, who was?

“What? They left?”

“Well, soon. I ... I had to reciprocate. I mean it would have been rude. Noooo! Not blow jobs! No, I gave them all a hand job. Then they left. Each one thanked me, like they’d come for tea.

Next day, they apparently couldn’t keep quiet. Bill knew and asked if he could learn that technique too. So he came round that night. To my surprise, he was really, really good. I could tell he’d done something before. At first he denied it all, but I said I’d +++++++” again with the mumbling.

“What?”

“I said I’d ... I’d go down on him if he told me the truth. I mean he deserved it. Remember we weren’t going out then. He had been very, very attentive. He’s the only guy, apart from you, who thought to lick round beyond and that is so nice. Well, he even did that thing on my other hole. You know ... the kissy, tonguey thing. You DO know, stop trying to make me say it! Okay, he rimmed me. I’d never had that before. So; when I offered to go down on him, he told me; he and his sister had been kissing each other’s bits for a while. He promised he’d never had sex with her, but she had sucked him off, even though she pulled off before he came. And he’d licked her out numerous times. I got the impression that she was younger than him. I didn’t ask. Don’t ask, don’t know, seemed safer.

He took me by surprise and the first jet went in my mouth. I’m sorry if that grosses you out, but you did want to know. He left after. What? What time? Oh, I don’t know.”

Again, he knew that was a lie. She’d definitely know. “Was it dark, still?”

“Well, no, not really. It was getting light.”

“And you slept all night, no more hanky-panky?”

“No more what? Where do you get these phrases? Carry On films?” Actually, she was on the money there.

“Answer the question my delightful, love.”

“Wellll, okay. We stayed in bed, and ... does it matter?”

“You let him fuck you. Was he any good?”

“Yes, and no. We did finally have sex, but it was his first time. He hadn’t gone that far with his sister. I told him that he’d better not or I’d inform on him. Not sure how I’d know. Anyway, we did. And he wasn’t much good, but I told him he was good. It would have been rude not too since it was his first time.

The thing is, he told others, or somebody did. Before I knew it, I was being asked for accompaniment that didn’t involve the piano, if you get my drift.

I could have said no; I did a couple of times; and then, well Harry Kanes was just such sweet boy. He told me that he and his girlfriend had broken up, or would if he didn’t sleep with her. He told me he was soooo nervous, that he didn’t know what to do, and...”

“And you believed him? That’s such an old trick ... so I’ve heard.”

“No, I think he was genuine. He had lovely blue eyes, and long curly blonde hair, and a peaches and cream complexion, and ... well, it turned out he had an enormous ‘thing’, You know, his ‘thing’”

“His prick?”

“Ummm, yes. It was bigger than yours. Sorry, but I’m sure it was, and, well we only started kissing, but then I kind of felt down there and found this massive rod under his trousers. I asked if he wanted to see me naked – of course he did – so I told him to undress too. And he was huge! Well, look, I’m not proud of myself, I just had to try it, to see if it would all fit in.”

Clive was still smiling, but he had a slight tinge of green around the gills now, then she let the bomb drop.

“And he was only fourteen. I know I shouldn’t have, him being so young, but I couldn’t resist. Sorry, Are you cross?”

But he wasn’t cross or jealous, much, what he was, was getting hard himself. He’d had far too much fun over the summer to be more than a little jealous. After all, he was a little over average. If this boy was way over then good luck to him. Fourteen? The lucky swine.

“Anyway, that’s about it.”

“No, no, don’t tell me that. It was just getting interesting. What did you teach the lucky bugger.”

“How did you know? Oh, you didn’t mean that ... I mean. I... “ she looked embarrassed.

“What? You mean you let him take you up the arse? You naughty, naughty girl. What? Not just that?” she was shaking her head.

“I did, but I told him he had to let me do him too if he wanted me like that. It was out of badness really, I didn’t think he’d say yes. But that was after...”

Clive arched his eyebrow again, saying nothing. It was very effective.

“I started by stroking him a bit, then I wanted to see if I could get it all in my mouth.”

“No way! Not if he was as big as you say.”

“He was! And you’re right. Not just because he was so big, just as much because he blew his load when I wrapped my lips round his pointy end. I was taken by surprise, it went down the wrong way and he was very apologetic, but it wasn’t his fault. I was coughing and spluttering and bits of his cum were splattering out. Anyway, we fooled around for a while, until he was ready again and while we were messing, he admitted his dream. He was a virgin, but he really, really, wanted to try anal. I think he’d watched too much porn. I said that; but he told me he couldn’t get it out of his head, so I told him I’d let him; on one condition. That I could ram a Coke bottle up his jacksy after. I thought that would put him off, but he seemed delighted. Said he’d love to know what it was like to be made love to without having to try gay sex. That’s what he said. So I was stuck. You know I always keep my word.”

Clive smiled, that was true. After she lost the bet over the football match – something she knew nothing about, she bet on her team because she liked the ‘colour of their uniforms’. They’d bet that whoever lost had to run round the uni football field at 4pm naked. And she lost, and she did it! Luckily only the groundsmen were there to see, and they weren’t about to let on to the Vice Chancellor who showed off her hair muff and bouncy tits. He smiled again at the title, Vice Chancellor.

“So I let him, you know. He wasn’t too thick, thank goodness. And I made him promise not to go all the way in, him being so long, like. It wasn’t too bad. Yes, that’s why I wasn’t so shocked when you started playing round that hole. You were a lot better, have to say. He just wanted to push in. I had to make him take his time.”

“And after? You did the same? With a bottle?”

“I did. It was actually a Pepsi bottle” Clive really, really didn’t care which soft drink manufacturer provided the bottle for anal intercourse – but he never drank Pepsi after without thinking of where that bottle might have been, and hoping that the re-use policy involved very thorough washing. “I was sore and uncomfortable, but I insisted he take the same. He wanted to lubricate it, but I pointed out that he didn’t give me that option. But then he was as good as gold. He actually got off on it. I think he might have been bi-sexual. I saw him being more than a little affectionate with some of the other lads. Not surprising really, boys only camps must be like young offenders institutes, or boys’ boarding schools. Or girls, come to that. Any port in storm, eh?

So, well, there we have it. Oh, I feel better for getting it all off my chest.”

Clive looked at her chest and suggested she got the shirt of her chest too.

“Clive! We’ve got assignments to do! No, do the work and then we’ll see.”

“Okay, but I want to hear the rest later.”

“Okay. Oh!!” he had slapped her most attractive, firm, round behind as she stood up.

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