Chapter 10

The following day was the Fourth of July. Dwight Delozier always fired up a large barbecue cooker to slow-cook ribs and pork shoulder all day long. Most all of the families in the camp would fix a couple of side dishes and we’d have a large pot-luck picnic mid-afternoon.

At sundown, we’d go down by the lake and shoot off fireworks. For the younger kids, it was sparklers only. For us older kids, we’d light off firecrackers and shoot bottle rockets.

The Fourth of July at Aunt Susan’s was a huge festival day, and this year it had snuck up on me—I’d been too pre-occupied to realize it was coming until it was here.

That morning, I woke up early. Mom and Erin were both still asleep, and I decided not to disturb them. I quietly left the cabin and headed down to the clubhouse to fix myself some breakfast.

The camp was quiet as I walked down the hill to the clubhouse, and once inside, I saw that only Dwight was there. He usually got up early, to build his barbecue fire, and I felt a surge of pride that I’d risen before most of the rest of the camp.

Dwight looked up as I walked in. He looked startled to see me, but quickly smiled and waved.

I walked over to the kitchen area to fix myself some cereal. I noticed Dwight watching me the entire way. As I moved behind the counter and headed toward our stuff, Dwight didn’t move. He was facing the counter, mixing a bowl of barbecue sauce, with only his head turned to watch me. Dwight’s family’s basket of food was next to ours under the counter, so that wasn’t unusual. Only, something about his manner seemed a little odd. I couldn’t tell what it was, though, so I shrugged it off as I walked over to stand beside him.

“Morning, Paul,” the big man said.

“Morning, Dwight.”

“What’re you doing up so early?”

“Oh, I just got up early,” I said cheerfully. “And I came down to fix myself some cereal.”

He cut short whatever he was about to say as I parted the curtains and crouched down. I quickly stuck my head under the counter to rummage in our basket for some Froot Loops.

I was just about to put my hand on the box when I felt someone staring at me. I stopped mid-reach and looked to my right. There was somebody under the counter!

I tried to stand up and banged my head. With a curse my mother wouldn’t have approved of, I rubbed the back of my head and looked to my right again. I looked right into the smiling face of Terri, the woman staying in the cabin next to ours.

And that was the least of the shocks that I experienced. My eyes widened in disbelief as I took in the scene before me. We called Dwight “Donkey-Dick” for fairly obvious reasons. When his dick was hard, which it was right now, it was the largest penis I’d ever seen. It must’ve been almost a foot long!

As my eyes fully adjusted to the curtain-filtered light under the counter, I could see that Terri was kneeling in front of Dwight, holding his monster dick with her left hand. She put her right index finger to her lips and smiled at me.

With a wink, she opened her mouth wide and returned it to Dwight’s monster. She could barely fit more than a few inches in her mouth, but that didn’t prevent her from licking up and down the length of his shaft and sucking on the head; all while stroking his massive length with her left hand. My penis immediately sprang to attention.

I carefully backed out from under the counter, with the immense presence of mind to grab the Froot Loops that I’d originally come for. When I stood up, I was blushing. Dwight clapped a massive hand on my shoulder and leaned down.

In a conspiratorial tone, he said, “Now you know the secret of my early-morning barbecue sauce.”

I blinked at him.

“I mix my sauce, and she polishes my knob,” he said with a booming laugh.

Dwight looked down and saw my erection, barely more than half the length of the one that he sported. I was too stunned to try to hide it. With another booming laugh, he looked down to where his prodigious penis disappeared between the curtains.

“Another victim for you, Terri,” he said in a much more normal tone of voice.

With that, his powerful hand on my shoulder spun me to face the counter and shoved. I woofed into the edge of the counter, my erection parting the curtains and thrusting into the open area underneath the counters.

Dwight leaned over again. “When she finishes me off, she’ll polish your knob too,” he said with a wink.

Just then, I felt a hand wrap itself around my erection; Terri’s hand. She began to slowly stroke me and Dwight laughed again, seeing the expression on my face.

“Don’t worry, boyo. I’ve never met anyone like Terri. She can suck-start a Harley,” he said with another booming laugh. “Ow!”

He looked down at his massive manhood. “Sorry, baby, you know I love what you do.”

I tried to stifle my laughter, and was mostly successful.

“She really knows what she’s doin’ with a dick,” Dwight said in a much lower voice. “Now,” he said, sliding the bowl of barbecue sauce in front of me, “you stir while I supervise.”

He then gripped the edge of the counter with both hands and concentrated on the blowjob the petite blond was giving him. I, obediently, stirred the sauce.

In a few minutes, Dwight closed his eyes and leaned his head back, not making a sound. I could tell that he was rewarding Terri for her efforts. When his orgasm had subsided, he breathed heavily and opened his eyes, taking a half-step back from the counter. I surreptitiously looked down; his enormous erection had dwindled somewhat, but was still the size of a child’s arm.

Then I heard Terri scooting our basket out of the way. Dwight pulled the sauce back over in front of him as I felt Terri’s hot breath on my erection. She gripped my shaft and tugged, pulling my stomach all the way up against the counter. And then, I was inside her mouth.

“Now,” said Dwight, “I’ll stir and you observe.” With another booming laugh, he began to stir.

And Terri began to suck.

Her lips surrounded the head of my cock and she stroked my length several times. Finally, she began sucking in earnest. She would take about half my dick into her mouth and clamp her lips down, stroking her hand forward at the same time. Then she would withdraw her mouth, lips tight, while stroking toward my body with her fist. As she bobbed her head on my erection, she would swirl her tongue around the underside of my dick and shake her head from side to side, caressing my manhood with the inside of her cheeks.

I tried to hold out as long as I could, but my best wasn’t very good. Under her intense oral ministrations, I came in short order. I gripped the edge of the counter as I came, feeling my semen spurt into her mouth. She continued to pump the base of my dick as my orgasm subsided, milking me for all I was worth.

When she released me, I stepped back. I heard some shuffling and sliding from behind the curtains, and then Terri emerged. She was smiling like the cat that ate the canary, wiping the sides of her mouth with her fingers.

She looked at Dwight first, disapproval plain on her face. “Dwight, if I didn’t love your big dick so much, I’d never talk to you again.”

“C’mon baby, you know I love ya,” he said, his grin infectious. “You know I was only teasin’.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean you won’t get bit if you do it again,” she said, her voice softening a little.

“And you,” she said, rounding on me. “Give me a little more warning next time and I’ll spend more time on you. But this big jerk,” she said, pointing her thumb over her shoulder at Dwight, “pissed me off and I’m sorry you only got a quickie.”

“Um ... that’s okay,” I said hesitantly.

“Sorry, sweetie. Any time you want a better one, just you let me know.”

I blinked at her in surprise and shock.

She leaned close to me and said in a low voice, “I like your dick. It’s just the right size for sucking. If you want a repeat, you know where to find me.” With a wink and a pat on my ass, she walked away.

Dwight watched and then turned to me. With another conspiratorial wink, he said, “I just love making barbecue sauce!”

His booming laughter filled the empty clubhouse as I finally poured myself a bowl of Froot Loops.

After my pre-breakfast blowjob (which, I thought to myself, wasn’t all that unusual, even though it was from a different woman), I decided to sit out on the patio and enjoy the quiet of the camp.

The smell from Dwight’s carefully maintained barbecue fire was actually quite enjoyable; especially now that I understood what went into making his sauce! He tended his cooker like a mother hen, turning and basting and making sure his fire wasn’t too hot. The results should be spectacular.

I heard things starting to bustle in the clubhouse as families came down for breakfast. Then I heard the screen door open behind me and turned to see Gina coming out. Her hair was pulled back in a short pony tail, with wisps escaping to frame her oval face. She had European-style sunglasses perched on top of her head and carried a paper towel and a large orange.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked.

“Be my guest.”

She dragged a chair over next to me and sat down, spreading the paper towel on her lap. I was nervous being around her, just the two of us. I didn’t know why, but I was. There was nothing I could do about it, however, so I simply tried to enjoy her company.

“Where were you yesterday? Jenny, Manfred, and I were looking for you,” she said, beginning to peel the orange.

“I had to finish up some work I was doing for Aunt Susan,” I half-lied. I didn’t tell her that the other half of the day I wanted to be by myself.

“What were you doing for her?”

“Mostly lifting boxes and stuff.”

“Huh?”

“She needed help cleaning out her garage, and going through a bunch of her father’s stuff. The stuff in the boxes. So I pulled boxes off the shelf, helped her sort through them, and then put the re-packed boxes back on the shelf.”

“Doesn’t sound fun.”

“Actually, it was. Aunt Susan’s really kinda cool.”

She arched her eyebrow at me and popped an orange section into her mouth. She separated another one and offered it to me.

“Thanks. Where are Jenny and Manfred?” I asked around the orange section.

She shrugged.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“I think Jenny kinda likes Manfred.”

“Huh?”

“‘Manfred said this,’ or ‘Manfred did that.’” she said in a Jenny-falsetto. “That’s all she talks about.”

“Well, Manfred’s a pretty cool guy.”

“Yeah, I guess. But I’ve known Manfred since he was ten and really annoying. Besides, he’s too tall.”

“Not for Jenny, I guess. She’s taller’n me,” I said.

“Yeah, I guess.”

We sat quietly for a while. She’d peel an orange section off and hand it to me, then eat one herself. Pretty soon, we’d finished the entire orange.

“Thanks for the orange.”

“You’re welcome.”

“If Manfred and Jenny don’t show up soon, you wanna go down to the lake?” she asked.

“I guess.”

“Okay.”

When there was still no sign of Manfred or Jenny in ten minutes, we decided to head for the lake. Gina took her orange peel inside to throw it away, and I followed. Inside, many of the moms were busy working on food for the picnic later in the afternoon. Mom was there, chatting with some of the other women about what dishes everyone was going to prepare.

We decided not to ask the grown-ups about Jenny and Manfred.

“I gotta go up to our cabin and get my towel,” I said.

She picked up her own towel and a bottle of suntan oil from the back of one of the couches. “I’ll come with you.”

“Okay.”

We walked up to our cabin in silence. I don’t know why, but it was a comfortable silence.

Once there, I pulled my towel off the porch rail and draped it around my neck. We then headed back down the hill toward the lake.

“You’re different this year,” she said.

“Huh?”

“You’re different this year.”

“You mean like taller?”

“No, like ... different.”

“Well, you’re different this year too,” I said, somewhat defensively.

“Yeah, but mostly it’s just my boobs. With you, it’s something else.”

“It’s not my boobs?”

“No, dummy,” she said, laughing at me. “It’s something else. I dunno what though.”

“Good or bad?” I asked, suddenly a little worried.

“Hmmmm,” she said, deliberately letting me twist. “I’d say ... good.”

“Oh,” I said, suddenly blushing.

The rest of the trip down the hill to the lake was in silence. I wondered what about me was different. I didn’t feel different. Well, I did, really. I felt very different, but I couldn’t exactly tell Gina that.

When we got to the lake, we put our towels down on our loungers and took off our flip-flops. Gina tossed her sunglasses down on top of her towel and pulled the rubber band out of her hair, shaking it loose around her shoulders.

“Last one in is a rotten egg!” she shouted and dashed toward the water.

She beat me by a good three steps, arcing her luscious body into a distance dive. I followed right behind her and with a few powerful kicks, I caught up to her and tugged on her ankle. Despite the growing heat of the day, the water was cold enough to take my breath away.

“I don’t think I want anything to do with a rotten egg,” she said in mock disdain, breathing hard from the burst of exertion.

“Oh. Okay,” I said and began to swim back to the edge of the lake.

“Paul, wait!”

I stopped swimming and turned to tread water.

“I was only kidding,” she said in a fine imitation of exasperation.

“Even if I am a rotten egg?”

“Even if you are a rotten egg.”

“Okay,” I said, swimming back toward her.

When I’d almost reached her, she began kicking away from me, toward the raft, splashing me in the face and sending foaming waves in my direction. I quickly ducked under the water and kicked after her. I passed her by underwater and continued for the shadow on the surface that was the raft. I surfaced on the opposite side of it and quickly climbed up.

“Hey. Up here.”

She suddenly turned in the water and saw me standing on the raft.

“No fair.”

“How?!”

“You’re a better swimmer than me. Help me up.”

I reached down to pull her onto the raft, enjoying the view I got when her body stretched out as I lifted her. Once she was on the raft, she put both her hands on my chest and pushed, hard. I stumbled backward and off the edge. As I sputtered to the surface, I saw her looking down at me, grinning from ear to ear.

“That’s for beating me to the raft.”

By the time I climbed back on top of the raft, she was already lying down. She shaded her eyes with one hand and patted the spot next to her with the other. Then she put her arms back by her sides and closed her eyes against the glare of the sun.

Looking down at her, I marveled at all the changes her body had gone through in the past year. My gaze lingered on her round breasts, flattened to her sides, both nipples crinkled and erect from the cold water. I let my eyes wander down her flat stomach to the flare of her hips, and then to the small strip of jet black pubic hair at the junction of her thighs. There were drops of water beading the wiry hair, reflecting the sunlight like little diamonds.

Finally, hesitantly, I lay down on my back next to her. I closed my eyes and basked in the warmth of the sun on my front and the warm canvas raft on my back.

About noon, Manfred and Jenny showed up at the lake. They called to us and we swam over, climbing onto the warm coping bricks to stand dripping in the grass at the side of the lake.

“Where’ve you guys been all day?” Gina asked.

Both of them shrugged and Manfred grinned like an idiot.

“We were up in the clubhouse, playing ping-pong,” Jenny answered.

“You wanna go get some lunch?” Gina asked me.

“Yeah, I guess. You guys wanna come?”

“We already had lunch,” Manfred said guiltily.

“Okay, see ya later then,” I said.

Gina and I grabbed our towels and dried off, then headed up the hill.

When we arrived, the clubhouse was a hive of activity. Dwight was taking ears of corn wrapped in foil out to the cooker and the smells of wonderful dishes filled the air. Mom was nowhere in sight, so we headed for Gina’s mom.

“Hi kids,” Elizabeth said, stirring a boiling pot of macaroni. (I always loved listening to her clipped British accent.)

“Hi Mom.”

“Hi Elizabeth.”

“What can I do for you kids?”

“I was going to fix us some lunch,” Gina said.

“Sure, love,” Elizabeth said. “Don’t spoil your appetites for the celebration.”

“We won’t, Mom,” Gina said. Then she turned to me. “How about PB&J sandwiches?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Gina fixed us sandwiches, one for her and two for me. While she was fixing, I got two cold Cokes from our refrigerator. I took them to the table with paper napkins and Gina brought over plates of sandwiches and chips.

“Thanks,” I said.

She smiled at me and I thought I would faint. She was so beautiful. “You’re welcome.”

We ate in silence, enjoying watching the hustle and bustle of the clubhouse and the preparations for the late-afternoon picnic. After we finished our lunch, we headed back down to the lake. When we got there, Jenny and Manfred were out on the raft, and it looked like they were holding hands.

With a snort of what sounded like disgust, Gina began spreading her towel out on one of our loungers. I took my cue from her and spread mine out on the chair next to her. She bound her hair back and put her sunglasses on top of her head. Then she sat on the edge of the chair and opened her bottle of suntan oil.

I was completely mesmerized as she squirted the shiny oil into her hand and began rubbing it all over herself. I watched in wonder as she oiled first her shoulders, then her arms, and finally her breasts and stomach. I knew I was gawking, but I couldn’t help it. Watching her shiny breasts swing from side to side as she oiled her legs, I was brought back to reality by a familiar tingle in my penis.

“Do my back?” she asked, holding the bottle out to me.

“Uh ... sure.”

I squeezed more of the slippery oil into my hands and began to rub her back and shoulders. When I was finished, all too soon, she turned around.

“Thanks,” she said with a smile. “I’ll do you.”

I normally didn’t use suntan oil. I burned just fine without it. But I wasn’t about to say no to her. So I turned and she oiled my back. I then finished oiling my front, taking care not to come anywhere near my penis, lest I disturb the careful stasis I’d managed to somehow achieve in that area.

Once we were properly oiled up, we lay down on the chaise lounges and simply soaked up the sun, turning over once in a while.

We were lying on our stomachs when Gina raised herself up on her elbows and looked at me.

“I know what it is.”

“What?” I asked, opening my eyes. I couldn’t help it, my eyes were drawn to her dangling breasts like magnets. She looked so beautiful there that I felt my penis harden, despite my best efforts to remain flaccid.

“I know what’s different about you.”

“What?”

“You’re not talking all the time.”

“So?”

“Last summer, you were all nervous and talky.”

“So?”

“So? So?” she teased me. “Sometimes a girl likes to be around a guy who doesn’t talk her ear off.”

“Oh.”

“It’s nice.”

“Uh, thanks?”

She merely smiled at me, and I felt my penis stiffen further. She folded her arms and rested her head on them, looking at me. Her expression was indecipherable, but her lips quirked up at the corners and I smiled in return.

I wondered how much longer I’d have to lay on my stomach.

As it turned out, it was quite a while.

The barbecue picnic that afternoon was a huge success. The meat on Dwight’s pork ribs was tender and juicy, and almost falling off the bone. The women of the camp had fixed a magnificent meal to go with the huge quantities of pork barbecue that Dwight prepared.

Jenny and Manfred joined Gina and me, and we all had a tremendous amount of fun, the day’s earlier tensions forgotten.

After eating, we decided to go hang out in the clubhouse and play pool. None of us were any good, but we all had fun making lousy shots and cheering when one of us got lucky.

That evening, the fireworks were fantastic. Jenny’s dad John had brought a whole crate load, as had Dwight, and the two of them lit off huge rockets and roman candles. Seeing the other families with their fathers made me realize that I missed my dad. I could tell Mom did too.

Gina was off with her family, and Erin was with her friends, so for a while Mom and I were standing watching the fireworks by ourselves. Susan soon joined us though, and the three of us enjoyed the show together.

Susan leaned over to talk to Mom as the fireworks were winding down. “I’ve got another bottle of Chardonnay in the fridge, do you want to come over and help me with it?”

Mom considered for a moment, then nodded. “You want to come too, Paul?”