Chapter 20

The rest of June, Amy kept her distance but was always watching. She was more and more brazen as time went by. Two more mornings I found her snuggled into me, my morning erection wedged tightly in the gap between her thighs and her sex. Each time she mewled when I pulled away, but she never really tried to stop me. I would slip outside those mornings to jerk off before heading for coffee with Grandma.

At first, having the camp all to ourselves was amazing. Then, some of the luster wore off and we started to get bored. But as people started to show up here and there, we all wished it were back to just us and all the freedom we had. The weekend before the Fourth, loads of campers showed up. There was a palpable excitement now all around the old cabins. Moms and daughters were laying out in the sun around the pool, most working on tans, trying to get rid of any pale lines visible on their skin. Dads were talking with other dads about all manner of things while lounging in the hot tub or watching over their families. The kids filled the pool area and the hot spring, splashing and laughing as they played in the water. We no longer had the run of the old camp.

There were plusses and minuses to having the old camp filling up. First, was the grilling every day driven by middle-aged men thinking they needed to compete with everyone else. The smells and sounds were incredible. As a side effect, those guys who chose to throw down in an attempt to prove their prowess against everyone else always prepared more than they needed. They were more than happy to offer their surpluses to anyone willing to try it. We, the girls, and I, were the perfect taste testers.

Amy got all the attention from the older men, no surprise there. She even flirted with them as if she were getting paid. All the while she and the rest of us were stuffing as many burgers, steaks, ribs, and chicken pieces into our mouths as possible. The only complaint we got was that we didn’t dig into the sides each cook offered. Amy deftly explained that if we did, we wouldn’t be able to sample everyone’s food, and there was a ton of it for us to try.

The only downside, if it could be considered a downside, was that according to Mary, I couldn’t just bend her over wherever she wanted. That’s not to say she didn’t ask for it anyway. Thankfully, Amy and Sara kept us in line because at that point I was thinking with my dick nearly one hundred percent of the time I was awake, and asleep, if I was honest. The best part about my dick controlling me in my sleep, was I always seemed to wake up knocking on the door to paradise when I opened my eyes. I didn’t always enter, but the gate was right there, open, and willing if I so wanted.

The big news was that for the first time at The Windy Pines, there was going to be a competition for the best food on the Fourth of July. It would be judged by a select group of people, more than likely from the retiree side of the camp. I wasn’t even asked if I wanted to judge. Apparently, I was biased, not because I had been tasting the food already, but apparently Dad was going to test his mettle against all the other camper dads. It wasn’t until they showed up that I learned I was going to be helping him, so I guess it did make sense that I wouldn’t be a fair judge, potentially.

When Mom and Dad finally showed up, the three girls and I were there and immediately started helping them unload the car. Mom had a put out look on her face when neither Sara nor I came to greet her before piling up our arms with whatever we could. The bulk of what needed to be hauled inside was what Dad and I were going to be cooking.

“Leave the meat on the counter for now, Sam,” Dad called out as I took the first load from the truck inside. “I am going to have to season it before it goes in the fridge.”

“Got it, Dad!” I answered, yelling over my shoulder as I kept walking into the still dark cabin with my arms piled full of raw meat.

No sooner had I unloaded when Mom met me at the steps to their cabin.

“No hello for you mother?” she asked, a hurt look on her face.

“Mom,” I replied with a grin. “I am just helping to unload all of your things.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t deserve a hug,” Mom pouted. I smiled at the look she was giving me. I knew she wasn’t really that sad, but I still wrapped her up in a tight hug, feeling her breasts smash into my chest. “That’s better. Now go help your father.”

“Mom, you—”

“Just go help your dad before he starts dropping everything on the ground.” Mom laughed and nearly dropped the load she was carrying. “Gah, see what you did!” She somehow managed to regain control over her arms just in time to keep hold of everything.

I tried to scurry out of her way, hiding the huge smile on my face. Mom shuffled past me, her attention now completely focused on the stuff in her arms and no longer on me.

“Sam, help me with the charcoal!” Dad yelled from the back of the car.

“Coming!” I answered, picking up my pace.

“You are going to help me man the grill, right?” Dad asked as I joined him, grabbing the last grocery bags.

“Yeah, it’s going to be fun,” I answered. I really was excited about it. I wasn’t any good with the grill, not yet anyway, but I wanted to learn.

“Perfect, that means I can work on the sides while you handle all the meat,” Dad said as if it were no big deal and walked inside.

“Wait, what? I can’t...” I asked.

I just stood there for a few moments, two brown paper bags in my hands. I was completely stunned but Dad didn’t give me any kind of response, not even a shrug of indifference or backwards glance. He just walked inside. Every time I have tried to use the grill at home, the food was either still raw or burned to a crisp, neither of which I would have fed to a dog. Now I was expected to grill all the food? He’s joking; there is no way.

After we got everything unloaded and Dad got all the meat marinating or whatever it was he wanted to do, we all sat down for supper. It was crowded with all six of us in Mom and Dad’s cabin, but we managed. Mom threw together some tacos, which were always a fan favorite. Any chance of there being leftovers was gone the moment Mom brought out a bowl of her homemade guacamole.

“You don’t really want me in charge of the grill, do you?” I asked Dad, as I wiped my mouth with a paper napkin after scarfing down my third soft shell taco.

“Of course, I do, why would you ask that?” Dad replied but there was a choking sound coming from Sara’s direction. “Are you okay, Sara? Do you need anything?”

Sara shook her head no violently before saying, “Uhh, no. Sorry. I thought I heard you say you wanted Sam to run the grill.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Dad asked, looking genuinely surprised that Sara would even question the idea.

“He sucks at grilling!” Sara exclaimed. “Sorry Sam, I’m not trying to make fun of you, but you have to know you are the worst person ever to touch a grill.”

“Hey, that’s not—” I tried to protest.

“Don’t talk about your brother like that,” Mom cut me off, chiding Sara.

“It’s true though,” Sara tried to reaffirm her argument. “Isn’t it Sam?”

“I mean...” I stammered.

“That doesn’t matter,” Dad jumped in, stopping any further comment from anyone else, including me. “You girls are going to be there to help him, right?” Amy, Mary, and Sara all nodded together. “Then what’s the problem?”

“I just want to say,” Sara announced, getting everyone’s attention before finishing what she was about to say. “You all remember when Sam grilled chicken last time, right?”

I knew exactly when Sara was referring to. About a week before we headed to The Windy Pines, I tried to grill chicken for dinner because Dad was going to be late getting home. I was so excited. Mom bought some chicken legs and thighs for me to grill. I got everything seasoned how I thought Dad did it and took the chicken outside while Sara and Mom made potato salad and baked beans.