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Explorer

By: MindPortal



Winter typically means cold, wet, and snow. In California it's quite a bit different. Winter means the grass turns brown and it rains (sometimes), behold the glory of two season climates. I just returned from a "guys" weekend trip to the mountains. Since its winter it's nice to actually see and touch snow when you're not used to it. Pretty much every winter this group of guys goes up, I'm the youngest usually, and they're all 5-15 years older. Not to mention they're all married. We usually go up in the fall for an amazing Oktoberfest which became a yearly thing. I'll never forget the first year I was invited to go up. I was dating a girl at the time (my best female friend, that was ultimately a disaster and emotions are completely irrational) and she was pissed that I didn't tell her about it so I told my friends I'd stay. Experience is a great teacher, and I learned a lesson in regret that day. Although this wouldn't smack me in the face as hard until the next year when I eventually made it up and saw what I missed. Large groups of people (hundreds), lots of drinking, and loads of dancing, eating, and more drinking (also, drinking). 

We usually go up for a few days since it's about a two hour drive. One of the cool things about California is you can go Skiing and visit the Beach in the same day if you start early enough. I've heard wonderful things about Scotland too (one of the Developers I work with is an Americanized Scott, Hari krishna, and also one of the smartest people I know.) Although once you actually live in a "vacation destination" it can become pretty regular. After a weekend of drinking, smoking herb, and eating I arrived home later in the afternoon on Sunday and after seeing all the women on the slopes and thinking about ski pants, yoga pants, ass, ass everywhere I wanted to get off. We all have our stashes and it just wasn't doing anything for me. When I find something and I can come buckets to, it sucks that eventually it's not as exciting, too much of a good thing, perhaps? When I find porn I like to watch the whole video if I can, and then finish at an especially hot spot, usually waiting for visible orgasms, imagining being inside and feeling her gripping my cock is my favorite.

I found a website which accepts requests, and people will post if they're interested or not. After searching around a little bit and seeing what related items people searched for and then discovering requests, and finally somehow I come across your profile. Eventually figuring out I'm able to post requests, I'm not sure exactly what I want now, or how things work. Figuring maybe requesting things via messages is the way to go. After sending requests to a few people and you were one of the first one to get back to me that I am really hot for. You're just right and it's surprising you got back to me. My heart jumped "She's real!" when opening the reply. Amateur stuff is my favorite, watching real women masturbate is a massive turn on.

Reading your reply is exciting, and the part about getting super wet, is something I really want to see. I imagine wetness isn't that exciting for you. As a man, thinking back to the feeling of wetness against my tongue (I love when a woman grinds against my face), the taste (I jokingly say I want you inside me), how warm her body is, not to mention the whole trust thing with being comfortable and allowing me between "your" legs all come to mind. These thoughts are going through my head while reading your reply and then seeing your picture is hotter. "This girl is cute, and she's down to do this, this is awesome." What's strange is I don't even know you, and I want to be this complete freak and watch you. I've had a fantasy of not touching a woman at all, just being close, where we can see one another. It's an experience I want to share with the right person. Things like this I just don't discuss, and when things happen, I go with the flow and its less talking and more doing, ya know?

During this whole time I'm switching between last minute homework followed by wrapping up a quiz (intro to databases, an online course) and I'm totally distracted with thoughts of you and thinking about like your thighs against my ears lol. Wrapping up the quiz before the time limit I manage to type out what I'd like you to do. My thoughts are conflicted, one side I feel like a complete perv telling you exactly what I want you to do, turned on, and terrified I'll scare you away lol. At this point you've disappeared to do the movie, meanwhile I think "Well, that sucks!" and then your message came through. Reading about it being your first masturbation session of the day is a hot. This may be gross, but I'd love to wake a woman up with oral. It's also exciting knowing it's new for both of us.

Eventually the file uploads and by this point I'm swimming in thoughts about watching you. I love getting off to a woman getting off. Don't get me wrong, sex is great (I love being inside a woman and feeling the way they push against me, and how I want to push deep into them) but I just love masturbating to a girl doing the same thing. It's a bonus if she's doing it because of me. I like watching fingers find the right spot and being able to see what she's doing.

Beginning the download I get up to get a paper towel, not the classiest thing, but tissue is terrible when soaked with cum. After a seeming eternity the video downloads. I tend to masturbate at my computer. It's exciting seeing you wearing a skirt, filling my head with desire to stroke. I seriously love your figure, especially your legs. Your thighs are total buttons btw. Since it's been really warm recently, I'm in a t-shirt and shorts, unzipping I usually warm up by rubbing through my boxers. Teasing girls through their panties is exciting too, feeling warmth through the thin fabric is total boner fuel, just like seeing your black panties under your skirt. I wonder what you look like under them as I begin touching and feeling the warm tingle grow against my hand. I have really hot hands, it can suck for hand holding, but being felt up is apparently awesome.

Watching you warm yourself up and reposition I resist the temptation to pull myself out and rub. Wanting to do this is an understatement, it's a burning desire. After all I'm trying to pace myself, I want to last the whole video, until I'm aching and I have one of those pulsing orgasms where I tense up and think about you all around me, feeling each pulse, knowing I want the same from you, gripping me and moaning quietly.

Watching you continue to remove your panties and lay on your stomach I pull myself out and use my left hand, moving up and down. I grip at the base and then sorta squeeze again right below the head with each motion. Seeing your pussy is enough to get my breathing deep, slowly stroking, trying to keep with your motions, and mixing it up by grabbing my head (I'm cut btw). I fantasize about kissing your neck while you're playing with yourself. Like that sucking, licking, kiss so I can smell and taste your skin while whispering words of encouragement "Baby, I love the noises you make, imagine my head pushing against that spot above your hole" etc. I could get off to a woman's breathing, just listening to you breathe when you find the right spot is exciting.

The sounds of your wetness when you finger 'just right' and seeing it on your fingers, I imagine both that it's my cum and your wetness and using your hand on me. Wrapping your fingers around my shaft, finger tips along the nerve with your wetness between your fingers against my hard warmth. I think your wetness is so incredibly hot, wanting to lick your fingers after you pull them out and let me play with your lips, imagining what they feel like and how sensitive you are. I'm into textures; I'd be a total perv with your blessing. Imagining you letting me feel you, my fingertips pressing between your lips and tracing around your hole gives me horny butterflies feeling the pulse in my cock. Using your wetness to tease your clit but never touching it directly is how I'd tease you. I'd love to just push my head into you, enough to part your lips and slide up and down between them, focusing on your clit and then back down to your hole.

Stroking a bit faster thinking about this I can feel the cum building up. I love the feeling of entering a woman, feeling her take my head first, the way it spreads around the hardness, and the slick warmth pressing around me, taking me. It's hot. It's a big button to hear a sigh or an mmm when I'm entering with my fingers or my cock. I wonder what kind of noises you make?

Watching you put your feet and how your fingers wiggle inside, wondering what's going through your head. Seeing your legs, they look so smooth and soft, fills me with desire. Imagining what they must feel like wrapped around me makes me rub faster. Slowing down and just squeezing myself while looking at your breasts, wondering if you like them licked, held, or even touched at all is hot. You've got cute perky nipples that are welcome in my mouth anytime.

Watching you orgasm is so hot. Instantly I know what I want to cum to. I'm a dork and time my orgasms (as much as possible) to when I see a woman's when I'm masturbating. The flexing is something I never get tired of. Watching you cum, with your legs open, and the orgasmic clenching is so fucking hot. Wishing I was inside you at that very moment, wanting to feel your orgasm around me is all I think about. I'd love to learn what you like, and where, how so I could make you cum hard. It's a turn on getting someone off. Alternatively, I'd like for you to feel each throb of mine to let you know how hot you get me.

Thoughts about you cumming fill my head and make the ache from inside hard to resist. My thoughts are so carnal at this point, perverted stuff thinking about my cum mixing with yours. My focus is on your spread legs and listening to your hot breathing. Straightening my legs and pressing my back into my seat as my hand moves up and down in long even strokes. Julie. Cum. I feel the tingle grow and focus my fingertips around my shaft and massage along my sensitive nerve. My cock is kinda veiny; I've always wondered what it feels like for a woman. Feeling the cum welling up until I go as fast as I can, making little wet noises. My breathing is quickening and my ass tenses up while watching your lips spasm and seeing your hole. Quickly grabbing the paper towel and pressing my head into it and stroking once more, it happens. Feeling the cum exit my body as I orgasm thinking about your hot pussy stretching around me (this is my favorite thing to cum to, thinking about that warm tightness and just being inside the girl of my dreams), stroking again and quickly feeling another squirt, and another, each throbbing pump I wish was inside you... with your legs spread and you on your back. After the spasms die down just being inside you and holding you close enough to feel your heart beating would be the icing on the cake.

Explorers



High school was a good time for me. I did o.k. on grades and I had a girl friend and some buddies. My girlfriend’s name was Lana. She wanted to be a journalist. She wrote for the school newspaper and she was on the school annual staff. She and I became friends when we both joined the Camera Club late in our Freshman year. She wanted to learn about photography because she thought it would be useful in her journalism career. I joined because I wanted a hobby and it was one way of meeting some girls who were not hot for the jocks and who, like me, were on the edges of the school groups and cliques. Lana had a girl friend, Gayle, who was also on the annual staff. We had some good times together.

But more about Lana and Gayle later. I had three good buddies - Chuck, Kenny and Gene. We all met each other in study hall. All of us were new to the school. My folks and Gene’s folks had moved here because of better jobs. Kenny’s family had been living and working overseas and his dad had been transferred to his company’s local office. Chuck transferred from a different school.

We had another thing in common. We were all a year behind our classmates. I’m not the smartest person in the world and I had been held back in grade school. The same thing for Chuck. Gene had missed a year because of a horse riding accident and the constant moving around that Kenny’s family did because of his dad’s job had set him back a year too. We all turned eighteen during the summer before our senior year.

Kenny and I went out for basketball. Neither of us made the first team but we stayed with it all through high school because it was fun. Gene went out for the wrestling team and did really well in his weight class. He had done a lot of weight lifting when he was recovering from his injuries and he had stayed with it. Chuck was tall and skinny. He tried out for basketball but he liked track better and he became a fairly high rated cross country runner.

Anyway, the four of us hung out together through out high school. There’s a picture in our senior annual showing the four of us - Chuck, Gene, Kenny, and Gary (That’s me) - The Four Musketeers, Always Inseparable. We did almost everything together. We even got summer jobs with the same construction company.

Kenny’s folks built a pool in their back yard. When Kenny’s folks were away we all skinny dipped together. We’d seen each other naked in the school showers lots of times, so being naked and swimming together was no big deal. We thought it would be great fun if our girlfriends would skinny dip too, but we knew that would never happen.

Skinny dipping and being naked with other guys was no big deal until one afternoon when we started playing grab ass with each other. Gene and Kenny started wrestling. Chuck and I cheered them on. Kenny held his own for a long time but Gene finally pinned him. Gene was lying on top of Kenny when he pinned him. Gene rolled off Kenny and they lay there on their backs, laughing and panting.

Both of them had big hard erections. I looked over at Chuck. He was staring at their hard dicks and stroking his own. Gene pushed himself up on his elbows. He saw Chuck then he looked down at his own hard dick. He immediately rolled over onto his stomach. Kenny watched Chuck then he began to rub his own hard-on.

Chuck got on his knees beside Kenny. They got into a serious jack off session. Chuck starting panting and grunting. Kenny laughed as Chuck blew his load onto Kenny’s stomach. Chuck sat back on his heels as Kenny beat his meat and blew his load. Gene crawled over next to Kenny. He began to jerk his dick and soon his cum joined Kenny’s and Chuck’s on Kenny’s stomach.

The three of them looked at me. I was standing by Kenny’s feet. “Come on, Gary, let’s see you jack off.” Kenny spread his feet apart. I got on my knees between his legs and began to stroke my cock. The three of them watched as I jacked off and shot a stream of cum that landed on Kenny’s chest. He had pushed himself up on his elbows. He still had a hard-on. All three watched as I pumped the rest of my load onto it.

I took my hand off my dick. All of us were silent. I think we were all embarrassed. I know I was. Beating your meat and jacking off was done in private. Kenny was still reclining on his elbows. He looked at the cum spattered all over his stomach and chest and he started laughing. “Jeez, that was great!” Then he got and ran over and jumped into the pool. We all followed him. The cool water took care of the hard-ons.

Several days later when we were leaving work, Kenny asked me if I would stop by his house on my way home. I said “Sure,” and followed him across town. 

Once we were in the house, Kenny offered me a brew. We sat at the kitchen table as we popped the tabs. Kenny took a sip then he turned the can in his hands. He looked at me. He looked a little uncomfortable. “Could I ask you a really big favor?”

“How big?” I thought he might want me to set him up with Gayle or one of Lana’s other girl friends.

“Uhh, I, uhh, er, I uhh.” Kenny swallowed a big gulp of beer. “Uhh, I really liked it when you dropped your load on my dick and nuts. Would you do it again?”

I stared at him then I thought about all of us watching each other jack off. I had to admit to myself that I liked watching each of my buddies beat their meat. And I got a nasty thrill when they watched as I beat mine. Kenny was staring back at me. I took a long drink from the can, “Sure.”

Kenny grinned and drained his beer. “On. wow! Great!” He set his empty can on the table and stood up. I followed him through the house to his room. He closed and locked the door as soon as we were inside. Kenny started undressing. He was naked before I could get all my clothes off. He spread a towel on the carpet then lay on it on his back. He spread his feet apart.

I stepped between them and looked down at him. His soft dick flopped over on his thigh. His dick and nuts rested in a mass of sandy brown curls. We worked without shirts a lot and the tan on his chest and shoulders contrasted with his white crotch, thighs and legs.

I got on my knees between his legs. I took my soft dick in my hand and began to roll it and pump it. It began to fill my hand. Kenny never touched his dick but he was getting a hard-on as he watched me jerk my meat. It didn’t take long. “Here it comes, buddy.”

Kenny was panting as hard as I was, “O.K.”

I pointed my cock down at the root of his dick and shot a big wad onto his nuts. Kenny gasped, “Oh, yeah!” as I painted the underbelly of his erect dick with cum. I squeezed the last drops onto his dick then, for what ever reason, I wiped my dick head with the fingers on my other hand and then I licked them clean. I stood up and began to get dressed.

Kenny grinned at me, “Thanks, buddy.” He had smeared my cum all over his dick shaft and he was jacking off as I left the room.

Dumping my load on Kenny became a fairly regular thing. Several times we changed positions. After I painted his dick and nuts, I’d lay down and he would jack off over me and paint mine. The warm cum dropping on my skin did feel pretty good.

One afternoon Kenny wanted to compare dicks. We stroked ourselves until we were both fully erect then we faced each other while standing in front of the mirror on the dresser in Kenny’s room. Kenny looked longer. He slid his dick next to mine until his dick head touched my pubic hair. He pressed our dicks together. His looked to be about two inches longer than mine, but mine looked thicker.

He released our dicks. I was sort of shaky. I’d never let anyone touch my dick before. Lana and I had never gotten that far on any of our dates. Kenny opened a drawer in the dresser and took out a cloth tape measure. “Let me measure you dick.” He got down on his knees in front of me. “Hold your dick straight up.” I held it straight up while he put on end of the tape against the cock root at my nut sac. He stretched the tape to the tip. “Looks like seven and a half inches or a tad more.” Kenny moved the tape and I dropped my dick. He looked at it as it flopped and swung in front of his face. Kenny stood up and handed me the tape, “Measure mine.”

He was holding his dick upright as I got on my knees. I’d never touched another guy’s dick and nuts before. I put the end of the tape against the skin of his nut sac at the root of his hard dick. I pressed the end of the tape against his skin and stretched it up to the tip, “Nine solid inches, Kenny.” He grinned down at me as he dropped his dick. I rolled up the tape as his dick swung in front of my face. I looked at it and wondered what a dick would taste like. I wondered if I could even suck a dick. I handed the tape to Kenny as I stood up.

“Boy, Gary, we’ve got a couple of nice dicks that could give some girls some fun.”

“Yeah, if we had some girls right now.”

Kenny put his arm around my shoulders and he took my dick in his other hand. “Let me jack you off.” He steered me back to his bed and I sat down on the edge. He sat beside me and began to stroke me off. It did feel good. His hand felt much different then mine. I lay back. It didn’t take long before I was shooting cum onto my stomach. “How was that?”

I sat up, “Pretty good. Lay down and I’ll do you.” Kenny lay back and I put my hand on his dick. It felt warm and smooth. I closed my fingers around the shaft and began to gently pump. I used some of his pre-cum to lube my fingers. His dick felt good in my hand. Kenny came as quickly as I had cum. I held his dick until he stopped shooting his load. I used tissue to clean of my hand and wipe my cum off my stomach and dick.

Every time we got together after work we gave each other a hand job.

One afternoon a severe storm blew in. The lightning and wind were so bad that the construction job was shut down. We went to Kenny’s house. His folks worked late almost every day so we were pretty sure we’d have the place to ourselves all afternoon.

Kenny got out the usual two beers. “Want to watch a porn flick?”

“Sure.”

I followed him into the den. “I’ll be right back.” He returned in a couple of minutes with a tape cassette that he pushed into the VCR. We got comfortable on the couch as the tape began to play. It was three guys and two girls on a bed. One girl was getting fucked as she sucked a dick. The other girl was sucking the third guy’s dick as he ate her pussy.

We watched as they changed partners and positions several times in various combinations of sucking and fucking. Kenny opened his fly and began to stroke his dick. Mine was so hard it ached in the confines of my shorts and pants. I unbuttoned the waistband and unzipped the fly. Soon I was matching Kenny stroke for stroke.

“I wonder what pussy tastes like?”

Kenny looked at me, “You haven’t finger fucked Lana and licked your fingers?”

“Nah, her parents hardly let her out of their sight when we’re together. We don’t even get a chance to neck, let alone really make out.” I was getting warm so I pulled my shirt tails out and unbuttoned my shirt. I wasn’t wearing a t-shirt underneath.

Kenny nodded towards the TV screen. “She knows what her pussy tastes like.” The one girl was sucking the dick of the guy who had been fucking her. The other girl was alternating between the two guys as she sucked their dicks. Kenny was staring at the screen, “I wonder what it’s like to suck a hard dick.”

He was rubbing his thumb over his dick head as he smeared pre-cum around. I looked at him as I was leaning back and enjoying stroking my dick. I had my hand slid down my dick shaft when Kenny leaned over and pushed his mouth down over my dick. His move surprised me so much that I let loose.. He continued to stroke his own dick as his lips closed around mine. I didn’t know what to do. I thought about pushing Kenny away but I also liked the feel of his mouth on my dick.

He sucked for a couple of minutes. “Let’s go to my room.” Kenny jumped up, pulled up his pants and headed for the hall then he returned and shut off the TV and VCR and popped out the cartridge. “Can’t forget this. Let’s go and get naked!” As soon as we got into his bedroom, he threw his clothes off after he locked the door. “Get your clothes off and sit on that chair!”

I quickly undressed and sat on the chair. Kenny got on his knees in front of me. He gripped my dick and jacked it several times before he put it in his mouth. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as he tightened his lips around the shaft. I thought about the two girls in the video, but when I opened my eyes, it was my best buddy who was sucking my dick.

Kenny bobbed his head up and down and he played with my nuts. He continued to jack me as he sucked and it wasn’t long before I told him I was going to cum. He held my dick straight up as my load shot into the air then fell back on his hand and my thighs.

Kenny stood up and wiped his hand on his stomach. He walked over to the dresser and leaned against it. He stroked his hard-on. He would look at his hard dick, then at me, then he would stroke it some more. I knew what Kenny wanted. He wanted me to suck his dick.

I got on my knees in front of him. I thought back to when we measured each other. I wondered then what a dick would taste like and I wondered if I would even be able to suck one. Well, I could stop wondering. I was going to taste my first dick and I could stop wondering if I would even be able to suck one. I was more than able. I really wanted to suck Kenny’s hard dick.

My hand only covered half of his nine inch dick. I thought about the girls in the video again. I remembered one of them licking the guy’s dick head and licking the shaft. I held Kenny’s dick still as I looked at the head. It was wet with pre-cum. There was a big drop right at the pee hole. I hadn’t thought about swallowing anything because I wasn’t going to let him cum in my mouth.

It was now or never. Kenny gasped as the tip on my tongue touched the head of his dick. I licked off the drop of pre-cum. It had a sort of bitter salty taste. I ran my tongue around and over the smooth skin of the head. I remembered the girl licked the bottom of the guy’s shaft so I did that before returning to the dick head.

I held Kenny’s dick in front of my mouth. I ran my tongue over the head. I looked up at Kenny. His mouth was open, his nostrils were flared and he was staring hard at me. “I’m sucking your big dick, Kenny.” He just grinned as I put his dick head in my mouth and closed my lips around it.

I held myself still as I savored the taste and feel of having another guy’s dick in my mouth. It was warm and tasted good. The head was smooth and sort of spongy feeling. I took it out of my mouth and ran the tip of my tongue around the rim of the head. Then I put it back in and slid my lips down the shaft until they touched the hand wrapped around his dick.

The top of the head rubbed against the roof of my mouth as it slid towards my throat. I had half of my best buddy’s dick in my mouth. It was a mouthful. A nice tasty mouthful. As I bobbed my head up and down Kenny’s dick shaft, I alternately loosened and tightened the pressure of my lips. I’d stop when I felt the rim of his dick head touch the inside of my lips, then I’d swirl my tongue around.

When I’d take his dick deep back into my mouth, I’d run the head along the inside of my cheek. I switched hands on the shaft and used my free hand to fondle his nuts. Occasionally , I’d reach down and touch my own dick, which was a hard as a rock. Kenny was wiggling and groaning and mouthing cuss words. I smiled to myself. I must be doing something right as I sucked his dick.

I thought to myself, “Gary, you ‘re naked and on your knees with a dick in your mouth and a pair of nuts in one hand. You know what that makes you, don’t you? That makes you a cocksucker. If you have a dick in your mouth and you are enjoying sucking it, you are a cocksucker, Gary.”

Well, I had a dick in my mouth and I was enjoying sucking it. I was really enjoying it. I was probably enjoying it more than Kenny who was really twitching by now. Another thought, “Your folks don’t know it, Gary, but they’ve raised a cocksucker.”

“Yes,” I thought to myself, “You’re a cocksucker, Gary, you’re now a real cocksucker.

Kenny was panting and his cock was getting harder and more rigid in my hand and mouth. I knew from my own experience that he was about to blow his load. I took him out of my mouth. Kenny grabbed his dick and pumped it two or three times, then he let out a yell as he shot a stream of cum towards the ceiling.

I sat back on my heels and watched. My neck ached and my jaw was tired but it was worth it. I’d given Kenny a pretty good blowjob and I’d enjoyed myself while doing it. Kenny was laughing, “Gawd, that was great!. Let’s do it again!”

I stood up, “Nah, I’d better get home.” I got dressed. Kenny was still leaning against the dresser with his dick in his hand and a grin on his face when I left the room.

Needless to say, hand jobs were replaced by blowjobs whenever we got together after work or on weekends. I had to tell Kenny that we had to ease off, Lana was getting touchy about all the time Kenny and I spent together. Don’t get me wrong, we ate each other’s dicks every chance we got. 

And we were both becoming better at sucking cock. I liked to lick and nibble my way up and down the sides of Kenny’s nine inch dick shaft. It was better than eating corn on the cob. Kenny discovered that he liked to suck my nuts. He was very gentle and I enjoyed it. Kenny also became somewhat of a cum freak. He liked for me to stand in front of him and shoot my load onto his extended tongue. When I sucked him off, he’d shoot his load onto my chest or shoulders. Although, I let him paint my face a number of times.

We had a lot of fun 69ing. Kenny liked being on the bottom where he could easily alternate between sucking my dick and sucking my nuts. I tried to swallow as much of his dick as I could. I liked lying on our sides when we 69ed. It was comfortable and easier on the neck and shoulders. It really does get tiring kneeling over a hot dick.

The first time I let Kenny cum in my mouth was in a side 69. Usually when I felt him get ready to shoot, I’d take his dick out of my mouth and hold it. But this time, when I felt his dick become more rigid I tightened my lips around the shaft just below Kenny’s dick head. He shot his wads deep into my mouth. I could feel his cum pulsing through his dick. That was neat! After that I very rarely missed swallowing Kenny’s loads of cum. “Gary,” I thought, “You’re not only becoming a pretty good cocksucker, you’re beginning to like eating cum.”

Kenny liked the kneeling 69 better than the side by side. When I was on my knees over him, he sucked my dick and nuts and he began to play with my ass. Pretty soon he had my dick stuffed in his mouth and two or three fingers stuffed up my ass. I didn’t mind it. As a matter of fact, I sort of liked the feel of his fingers twisting and pushing into me.

I knew what was coming next as we continued our exploration into man-to-man sex. One evening after work I told Kenny I couldn’t hang out (literally), but that I had an errand to run. I drove across town to a n adult arcade. I had to show my ID to get through the front door. The place was pretty busy. Lots of men and two or three women browsing the magazines and video tapes.

I looked at the posters and pictures for the video arcade. There was something for everyone. It was the same with the rental and sale videos and the magazines. Several men brushed against me as I looked at the videos. I didn’t react and they excused themselves and moved on. One of the women asked if she could help me find a particular video. I told her, “No, thanks. I’m just browsing.” She smiled and moved away. She looked liked she had a little five o’clock shadow under her makeup.




Explorers



AUTHOR'S NOTE: As always, this story is entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual people or events is purely coincidental.

*

It wasn't like it had been that one time in college, when she got wasted and made out with her sorority sister while a gaggle of horny guys stood around in a semi-circle, slack-jawed and half-hard. What she did that night was harmless. It was simple fun and games; it was a drunken illusion. What they were doing now was certainly no illusion.

In the boathouse, under a window, as a faded green aluminum canoe rhythmically thudded up against its neighbor, Megan felt like the waves in the algae-filled Adirondack water below. She was certain that Sydney felt the same; she could see it in the tremors that spread out from the spots where she touched her arm.

In a hushed, near-trembling voice: "Are you alright?"

An uncertain nod, a gesture of approval.

Megan scooted forward a little so that her knees, crossed Indian style, almost touched Sydney's. Her waifish body was slung over like a bean sprout. Her straight brown hair was tucked back behind her ears, like curtains pulled aside to reveal her hazelnut eyes and lightly freckled button of a nose. She dropped her hand onto Sydney's thigh and looked into the eyes of her friend.

Through the window above, the pale morning light poured over them like the slow dawning of enlightenment. Every second since they had first met six years ago had built up to this moment.

***

Back then they were fat little girls. 

One bright Pennsylvania day, as coincidence would have it, their mothers took them shopping.

Megan's mother, looking shamed and a little disgusted: "Why didn't I see this coming?"

Sydney's mother, two hundred miles away and looking concerned in her usual neurotic way: "I think we've got a problem here, Sid."

In their respective department stores the truth fell on them as a heavy axe. Their little girls were too big for even the biggest clothes. 

Their parents rushed about for solutions to their weight-problems. Surgery was out -- they were too young for that. But then there had been talk somewhere about "fat camps", places where big little boys and girls could learn healthy eating habits, the joys of exercise, and most importantly high self-esteem. It was precisely what they needed.

Actually they needed each other. In the end that's what dropped the weight. The girls cemented their indissoluble bond during the camps orientation. Megan sat down next to Sydney in one of the several small circles spread out across the field. "Did your parents give you any bug spray?" she asked as she swatted a mosquito on the back of her neck."

Sydney reached into her light blue soccer shorts and pulled out a small bottle, handed to this girl sitting next to her. "I like your socks," she said.

Megan looked down. They were white with purple ladybugs all over, and in the strong sun they gleamed in a way that pleased her developing brain. "Thanks." She wasn't used to compliments; they often left her feeling slightly insecure. "I like yours too," she said sheepishly.

At Camp Willow Head they swam, they hiked, they canoed, they played softball and soccer, they wove baskets, they built fires, and they told scary stories in the dark. Together the girls excelled at these activities. Megan took on the role of team leader, and Sydney followed. Their weight loss was remarkable, much faster than the other children, and so quick that their parents soon found themselves receiving calls from Susan Wasserman, the camp's director, telling them how hard their daughters were working, and how much potential they had. The girls won trophy after trophy for two summers in a row, and left Willow Head secure in their respective paths.

They were secure in each other. Each summer after Willow Head they spent together, first at Sydney's place in Philadelphia, and then at Megan's place in Pittsburgh, and rotating after that. Through the various dramas of middle school and high school, through the backstabbing girlfriends and the failed varsity tryouts and the horny, immature boyfriends, they never lost touch with each other.

***

Megan dragged her finger down to Sydney's knee. "I was so nervous," she said, half-laughing as she circled Sydney's kneecap with her forefinger. 

"About this morning?"

"Yeah," Megan responded. "So last night I broke into the kitchen and completely pigged out."

"Meg," Sydney called out in gentle alarm.

"Oh, it's okay. It's not gonna kill me."

"But what if somebody finds out? How's that gonna look to the kids?"

"You're such a better person than I am Sid, always looking out for other people." Megan trailed her finger back up to Sydney's thigh, then down again to knee once more.

"So what did you eat?" Megan's lips curled up into a devilish smile. "A whole cake."

They both laughed. It was a welcome break in the dense atmosphere of apprehension and excitement.

"Jesus. I'm surprised you're not comatose right now."

"What do you say we break in again tonight? We could always blame Stew."

"The janitor?" They laughed again. Sydney was tempted, but she didn't want to get in bad with Sue and Mike, not after they were kind enough to hire her. But then the execution wasn't important. It was in the plotting. When they talked like this she felt those old childhood ties re-emerge and pull them together, in an altogether different way than they were being pulled now. Back when they were two mischievous young girls their friendship was so pure; there was nothing seductive or taboo about it.

***

If asked, neither of them could pinpoint exactly when they lost their childhood innocence. Of course they both remembered precisely when they lost their virginity. Megan had lost hers at the end of her senior year. For reasons she couldn't explain, she didn't want to go off to college with a cherry. So she found some guy from school and brought him home when her parents were away for the weekend. They fucked twice, once after getting wasted on a bottle of wine and then a second time the next night, both sober. She wasn't expecting much. He was squirrely and over-excited. But he got it in all right, and a found a groove that worked for him until he popped. Still, it hadn't made much of an impression on her.

Sydney had lost hers even sooner, to a guy in the journalism club. Unaware of her sexual appeal, she was truly surprised when this gorgeous guy, who she had somehow managed to lure into her house one day after school, let her put her hand down his pants. She had so much to learn about men. He was okay in bed, but not very bright, and she awkwardly avoided him for the rest of the year.

They spent their post-graduation summer together, only vaguely aware that they were quickly turning into young adults. They knew that once they both went off to college things would be different, and so they hugged each other tightly and cried that morning when they said goodbye. Megan wondered when she would see her friend again, and what she would look like. Sydney wondered the same thing.

For Megan, college was about finding herself, literally and figuratively, on the West Coast. She joined a sorority, spent a lot of time on the beach, got a lot of sun. In her first year alone she went through four guys, each relationship a stepping-stone on her way to adulthood. 

After the last guy she decided to take a year off, to travel Europe. But she needed cash, and even though she didn't know why, she found herself calling Susan and asking if she could come back to Willow Head.

"Sure," Susan rang out with enthusiasm on the other end of the line. "I'm so glad you want to come back and work here. We actually lost some people last summer. Don't worry about applying. Just send me a resume for filing and be here by the 9th."

And it was that easy. Megan started packing a week later, and got a call from Sydney.

"Guess what," she said. "I'm going back to Willow Head."

"Back?" Sydney asked.

"Yeah, this summer. I need some cash. Sue said I could work as a councilor."

"No shit. Me too. I'm doing the same thing."

It was a secluded place, Camp Willow Head -- well hidden in the Northern sector of the Adirondack Park. 

The Adirondacks were different than she remembered, in so many ways, but as Megan made the drive herself for the very first time, this characteristic, the seclusion, alone resonated the most. She spent hours driving along highways, but all the time surrounded by thick walls of hardwoods and conifers. She felt as if she was literally driving through the woods. She passed through many towns, some of them large and well developed, and others gone in the blink of an eye. But through all of it, the feeling of seclusion in a rugged, vibrant wilderness never left her. In some strange way it was comforting.

By the time Megan arrived it was late afternoon and the sun was in full force. It beat down upon her as she climbed out of her rackety Volvo and scanned the parking lot excitedly for a sign of her friend.

A voice cut through the drone of Cicadas: "Megan." 

It was Susan, jogging out of the woods.

Susan was just as Megan had remembered her, a tiny woman with pale skin that never seemed to tan no matter how much time she spent outside in the sun.

"Megan, so nice to see you again." She held out a spindly hand and flashed a bright smile. In her dark green eyes, made even more pronounced for the jet black bangs hanging stiffly over them, Megan noticed a gleam of wonderment, not idealistic but sensible -- a perfect combination, she thought, for somebody running a summer camp.

They made small talk, and then they made their way inside the main building. Sydney was bent over a desk, drinking a juice box and reading a newspaper.

"Look at you," Megan exclaimed as she stepped forward and embraced her friend. She was borderline unrecognizable, having grown her thick brown hair out, grown into her body, and begun sporting black-rimmed glasses that brought weight to her caterpillar eyebrows. Sydney had taken off to the East Coast after high school. With no beach to laze about on, she opted instead for the library. She fashioned herself into an intellectual; Megan could read it in her eyes. She wondered if she had changed so much since she left, if she looked so different to Sydney.

Was it the change that precipitated the summer's events? Did Megan see her friend in a different light now, as somebody capable not only of friendship but more? Later that summer Megan would lie in her bunk at night, tired yet completely incapable of sleep, and let these kinds of questions consume her. She did it even though she knew there was no answer. Something had shifted that first day. She embraced her friend, and experienced for the first time those most subtle of ethereal manifestations of feminine sexuality. The way her back sloped in toward the bottom, the strength of her posture, of her thigh muscles rooting her to the cement floor of the main lodge.

Everything after that moved in increments so tiny and even that neither of them had realized the change until the night of their first kiss.

***

"You're adorable," Megan said, reaching out and playfully tapping Sydney's nose. Sydney blushed, well aware that the tap was playful in an altogether non-playful way.

"Do you kiss a lot of women?" Sydney asked.

"Not really. Sometimes at parties, but mostly just to get a kick out of the guys," Megan said.

"You know you're pretty good at it?"

They had kissed now a total of four times over the last two weeks. The first time was at night in the forest, hidden behind a tree, as the campers ran about in a game of night-tag. That kiss was short, though they had a difficult time pulling apart. The next several times, once outside again, and the other two in Sydney's bunk, they took their time. They found that, though they were both adept kissers, kissing another woman required a heightened sense of awareness. Guys don't care as long as you shoved your tongue down their throat, and they really don't care when you grabbed their dick at the same time. But women, they're attuned to the kiss. It needs to be just right. When the two kissed, they learned right away that their methods, so far only seriously practiced on boys, were underdeveloped, blunt.

Those other three times, Megan and Sydney worked hard at getting it just right. Megan learned right away from Sydney's barely perceptible pulling away not to force her tongue into her throat. And Sydney, she learned that her mouth was larger than Megan's, and that the difference was enough to warrant caution lest she kiss like a grouper fish.

Megan bent forward now and put her lips to Sydney's. Under the weight of her thrust they felt fragile, like the skin on a ripe peach. Sydney opened her mouth and drew her friend's tongue in and gently circled it with her own.

Usually they would go on like this for what seemed like hours, and then when they were done rest in each other's arms, growing into each other. This morning, Megan had that spark that all of the world's greatest explorers have. She wanted to leave camp, secure in the knowledge that she could always return to the kiss, and explore the terrain of her friend's body.

The goose bumps on Sydney's leg, her first wonder of discovery. They appeared so quickly at her touch, ran all the way up to the hem of her Khaki shorts to disappear under the cool fabric. Where they ended the flesh was hot and moist, Megan knew -- the irregularly shaped spot as big as a half-dollar at Sydney's center was a dead giveaway.

There was the area just under Sydney's ear, the area that Megan ran her tongue over, making Sydney shudder. More so even than the response that it got her, Megan relished nestling her head into this spot. She loved inhaling Sydney's freshly washed hair. It smelled of apricot and strawberry; it mixed sweetly with the residue of pine-scented soap on her skin and the strong mineral scent of the lake water swelling and receding beneath them.

She let her head fall into Sydney's chest, and drew one hand up her thigh at the same time, stopping just before the wet spot. She eased back at the sudden thought that touching another woman there seemed intrusive. Glancing up at Sydney, though, she could tell that she hadn't violated any boundaries just yet. 

The two had gotten up before sunrise to meet in the boathouse, neither of them aware that Mark, Susan's husband, had also gotten up. Rolling over, he found his wife sprawled out with wayward limbs and crusty mouth. He gave her the look that he did every morning when she was sleeping, the look that husbands give when they begin serious reflection on their marriage, though it is always reflection in it's earliest of stages, without approval or disapproval.

The girls had to be careful not to wake the sleeping campers, nestled comfortably in row after row of bunk beds, but Mark didn't pay any mind to his wife as he let the water in the sink gush while brushing his teeth, and flushed the toilet after peeing in it. With his peculiar pigeon-toed walk he stepped outside of their cabin and carried his hefty frame across the dewy grass to a small utility shed in the back. Disappearing inside, he reappeared with a large net and an armful of dirty specimen bottles. Throwing these into a small satchel, he took off to the lake.

Little was said about Mark around the campground. At first the councilors found it queer that they never saw him and Susan together, save for really big events. But after they grew accustomed to the way things worked, they let their minds pursue more important matters, just as Mark consumed his time with his one true passion. It was clear that he wanted nothing to do with the camp. Whenever he was spotted, he was scuttling about the grounds looking for cherished species of winged insect to catch, kill, and spike onto a slab of foam. 

His pursuits this morning took him along a lakeside path that opened up to the beach. As he crossed the rough sand to the opposite side, he spotted a butterfly that was sorely missing from his collection. Slowly he crept up on it, and that's when he caught a glimpse through the window of the boathouse, and spotted something far more precious inside.

His voyeuristic instincts kept him glued to the window. But soon he became frustrated. If they were butterflies, already he would be upon them; they would be tangled in his net, screwed into his specimen jar. He couldn't capture this beauty.

But he needed to lay claim to it. He, the naturalist, had discovered a new species in the forest. He needed to tell somebody about it. So Mark took off for home and found Susan making a cup of coffee in the kitchen.

Her face froze for a moment. "Megan and Sydney? Are you sure?"

His excitement combined with the day's latent heat set his upper lip sweating. "Yeah, in the boathouse," he repeated. "I know it was them."

To this Susan gave no response. Instead she set her coffee down and disappeared up the stairs.

"Well, are you gonna do anything about it?" Mark asked behind her. Her response was the sound of her office door closing. He took a sip of the abandoned coffee and went back outside. This time he would stay clear of the beach and head for the fields on the south side of the campground.

The girls got back just in time for the wakeup call. They were flustered, so much so that even the groggy campers could detect their absentmindedness. When everyone was properly relieved, washed, brushed, and dressed, they headed to the mess hall for breakfast. Sydney and Megan took their seats at the councilor's table.

In total, there were seven of them. Sydney and Megan were the only newbies, the other five councilors having all worked there for several summers at least.

"God damn," one of them bemoaned as he shoved a spoonful of flax cereal into his mouth and poked at his poached egg with a fork, "I'd sacrifice a camper for some bacon or sausage."

This was Levi, the joker of the group. The others laughed at his jest, and he shot a messy grin at Megan. She wondered what he meant by it. Back at school, when guys smiled at her like that, it usually meant that they were interested. For a moment she entertained the thought and sized him up as a candidate. He was a couple of years older than she was, a backwoods local, tall and well built with a very short haircut and a simplicity about his face. He was outgoing but with a healthy dose of reservation. He'd probably ask her for a number on the last day she thought.

Another councilor interjected. "Well, it's just a few more days until dead week."

"Dead week." The six days in between the first and second rotations of campers. Two of them were spent in preparation for the next batch, but then there were those four days of freedom. Some of the councilors just hung around the campground, but most of them took off to Saranac Lake, the nearest decently sized town.

"Who's hanging around?" Levi asked, looking around the entire table.

Megan looked to Sydney. "We're probably gonna do something," she said.

"I've got some friend's in Saranac. They can hook us up for a few days," he said.

Sydney felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she saw Mark standing above her.

"Sue would like to talk to you two," he said.

The two of them flashed a guilty glance at each other. "What about?" Sydney asked.

"Don't know." He looked as if he was about to yawn.

"Can it wait until later?"

"I guess so." When he walked off, the rest of the table stared at the two of them.

"Jesus, what was that all about?" Levi asked. "I've never seen him come for a councilor before. Why didn't Susan come?"

The girls both shrugged and went back to their food. The other councilors followed suit and the small talk ensued. The girls ran various episodes from the past several weeks through their heads. Was it obvious? Could anybody have seen them? Who might have turned them in?




Explorers



***

Later that morning they found a couple of councilors to fill in for them and headed off to Susan and Mark's cabin. They cut through the woods and came out close to the utility shed.

Up the short slate path they walked, in between two rows of pachysandra, to the front porch. They spotted Mark's butterfly net propped up against an old rocking chair and gave each other knowing glances. The screen door, surrounded by red trim and patched with little plastic turtles wherever a hole had popped up, creaked as they opened it and popped their heads inside. 

"Hello?" Sydney called out.

"Up here," Susan said from the second floor. The girls quietly crept across the threshold, as if any noise would somehow upset the delicately balanced situation and make it worse.

"There's coffee down there if you want some," Susan called out again. They looked at each other. They could tell by her unusually flat tone that something was definitely wrong.

While Sydney poured herself a cup of coffee, Megan took a few seconds to examine the cabin. It had the same rustic Adirondack feel as the other cabins, only built for permanent residence and homey to the extreme. A bear skinned rug hung on one of the walls, and on the others numerous oil paintings. There were rugs and doilies everywhere. To their right, a large brown sofa plopped in front of a flat screen TV. Above it, a poster illustrating over a hundred butterfly species.

Upstairs they found Susan behind her desk and engaged with her laptop. Save for a slight glance their way as they entered her office, it seemed like she didn't notice them at all. They took a couple of seats in front of her desk and sat quietly, neither of them wanting to break the silence.

Finally Sydney spoke up.

"It's a lovely office," she said. No response. She looked around uncomfortably. If not nice, the room was at the very least interesting. Scattered about were several trinkets, the kinds of things that people accumulate as they travel the world. Sydney spotted a small laughing Buddha, a conch shell, a beer stein, and some other items of interest. It was an eclectic mix, but then those collections usually are. She was really struck by the two bookcases to her right. One was filled with books on conservation, biology, natural history and so on. The other was filled with books on child psychology and eating disorders. For a second she didn't know if she was sitting in a natural historian's study or the office of one of her professors back at school.

Megan tried this time. "Thanks for the coffee," she said. Again, no response.

"Why are you angry?" Sydney said meekly. Susan shut her laptop and turned now to look at the both of them. Gone was her typical impassioned glare. Her eyes now looked alarmingly spent. The sun coming through the window behind her, and the sound of the chickadees hopping around the feeder that hung just outside of the window only worked to intensify the shift by way of contrast. 

"Okay," she said. "Let's get on with it, then." She slid a couple sheets of paper across the desk. "These are your termination slips," she said.

"What?" they both exclaimed.

"I'm letting you go."

Sydney retorted. "But we haven't done anything wrong."

Susan let several seconds of silence elapse as she prepared her response. "I've been getting complaints," she said.

"About what?" Megan asked. The incredulity was clear as crystal in her voice.

"Various things," she said. She was still looking them in the eyes, but she was sounding less sure of herself now. It dawned on them that she hadn't fully prepared for this meeting.

Sydney, always the sensible one of the two, shifted into a less reactionary and more diplomatic register. "Who complained?"

"Other councilors."

They had no problems with the other councilors. It was a tight knit group, and Sydney and Megan were both good looking and popular. They all helped each other out.

"About what exactly?" Sydney pressed.

A thought struck Susan and she gained her footing. "Missing food," she said.

"Missing food?"

"From the kitchen."

"That's ridiculous," Megan said.

"But didn't you two sneak in there last night and take something?"

To this Megan had no response. She simply sat back in her chair, dumfounded that anybody could have found out. Then a thought struck her.

"I did, yes. But Sydney had nothing to do with it. Anyway, this is all ridiculous. You can't fire somebody over that."

And then it hit them. Of course this wasn't about sneaking food in the middle of the night. This was about the boathouse. Somehow Susan knew, but for whatever reason, she didn't want talk about it directly.

"Is there anything we can do?" Sydney asked.

There, on her lips -- a smile, almost imperceptible. She took a sip of coffee and leaned back into her chair. "You have to promise me," Susan said. She pointed her index finger into the air. "I want you to promise me that you'll both shape up and act like adults."

They nodded.

"Say it."

"We promise," they both repeated.

"Who the hell does she think she is?" Megan exclaimed as they walked back to their cabins. "I mean, treat us like adults, not little children."

"I wonder who saw us?" Sydney asked.

"Oh it doesn't matter," Megan said. She reached around her head and broke through the cloud of gnats and black flies to scratch the back of her neck.

The rest of the walk they took in silence. They were indignant, but also ashamed at having betrayed Susan's trust, though they weren't exactly sure how it was a betrayal. 

The rest of the week passed without incident. Then dead week arrived. Graduation commenced, and a horde of proud parents descended upon the camp to take their children home. The crew cleaned up and readied the schedules for the second half of the summer, which would start the following Sunday when the new campers arrived. They had four days until then.

Susan found the girls in the parking lot on Friday morning; they were packing some things into Levi's truck.

"You two aren't staying?" she asked, a note of disappointment in her voice.

"Uh, no. I'm gonna visit some family," Sydney lied.

"I didn't realize that you had family around here."

"Yeah, an uncle in Saranac Lake. Levi's gonna drive me."

"What about you Megan?"

"Oh, I'm just going along for the ride."

She gave them a quick nod and took off.

"We'd better get going," Levi said as he checked his watch.

Saranac Lake was a good 40-minute drive from Willow Head, along route 30. They took the hilly road past lakes and wetlands, ascending slowly until they came out into wide-open fields that sloped down to the peaks in the distance. The girls still hadn't gotten over the immensity and beauty of it all. For Levi, who had traveled this road many times on his visits to friends and family in the High Peaks Region, it was nothing special.

There was a community college in Saranac Lake, he informed them as they approached the town. But the town itself was no college town. The seeds of modernity had obviously been planted there, and the town was fully developed, but at the same time it had a spark of unruliness. Sydney imagined that they were feeling a tiny fraction of what the first settlers must have felt hundreds of years ago.

When they got to the apartment it was around three o'clock. Levi's friends were just waking up. They flopped onto the couch and passed around a bong as they talked about a party that night. Not content to sit around the apartment all day smoking weed, the girls decided to explore the town. 

Up and down Main Street they walked, weaving in and out of various small shops, picking up souvenirs for home. They checked out the town library, ate dinner at a local Mexican restaurant, and then walked over to the lake where they stood on the shore and watched fisherman hauling their boats in from the waters, tired yet content. 

"It's kind of like we're on vacation," Sydney said. Megan was struck by the clarity of this observation.

"Why do you suppose that is?" she asked.

Sydney shrugged. "Don't know." Without thinking she reached out and took Megan's hand. Megan did nothing to resist.

They sat on the shore for hours, until the sun gave its last gift of light before setting below the horizon, and tinted the glossy black waters of the lake a crimson-orange.

There were two clearly distinct communities in Saranac Lake: the East Side, a tract of prime real-estate and expensive houses that ran along the north shore of the lake, and then the west side, a neighborhood of quaint yet less valuable homes built into the hillside. Levi headed west along a barely paved road, the slope so steep that his truck cried out in exasperation.

"Shit," he said. "I'm gonna have to buy a new truck soon. I'm not sure how much longer this one's gonna last me."

The girls weren't sure how to respond to this comment. They weren't in their element. Levi, on the other hand, had left the camp councilor behind and had slipped into townie mode. His friends weren't interested in camp stuff, so he didn't bother them with it. Instead they talked about working at the ATV dealership, about hunting and fishing, about recent drug busts in the area. 

But there was one interest that they all shared. All of them were at the age of subtle recklessness. When the opportunity arose, they all felt an instinctual desire to abuse their bodies in some way, most often by altering their brain chemistry with various substances. And so when they walked through the door, into the thumping pulse of the party, they made it straight over to the beer keg, determined to reach some buzz. 

Several beers and a few tokes later, Sydney and Megan found themselves with Levi's friends and a couple of strangers on the back porch. Sydney had fallen back into a creaky futon, and sitting dangerously close to her was a young guy who she had only met ten minutes ago. Was his name Chad? Or was it Tag? He had his arm resting on the frame behind her head.

"You girls are from Pennsylvania?" Another boy asked.

"Yeah," Megan responded.

He nodded, took another toke from his joint, and passed it to someone on his left. Tilting his head up to blow the smoke out, he said: "That's cool. I've got a cousin who went down that way last year to do some work. You two go to school down there?"

"I do," Sydney said. "But not Megan. She goes to school out on the West Coast."

Another nod. Sydney took a sip of her beer. Was it her imagination, or did this guy sitting next to her just move a little closer?

"So you girls work up there at Willow Head?"

They both nodded simultaneously.

"You must be pretty good in the woods then. A couple of buddies and I are going camping this weekend. Loon Lake. You two want to join us?"

The girls looked at each other, unsure of how to politely refuse. 

"Should be plenty to drink and smoke," the boy added.

"Actually," Megan said. But before she could finish her sentence, Sydney announced a bathroom break.

Outside the air was layered with sensations: the faint smell of raw wilderness, the thumping music behind them, the sound of crickets all around. Sydney's head was slightly foggy with alcohol and marijuana smoke.

Levi came up behind them. "Hey you two," he said. "I think I'm gonna cut out of here soon. I'll give you a ride back to the apartment if you like."

"Where are you going?" Megan asked.

"Nowhere. Just a friend's house," Levi responded. He was looking down at the ground, avoiding all eye contact. He shuffled his feet for a few seconds. "You know, Mark and Dave probably won't be back until tomorrow.

He fell silent after these words and continued his shuffling. Then: "You've got the whole place to yourselves."

Had he looked up, he would have seen two astonished faces. 

"Cool," Sydney stammered.

"Alright, then," Levi replied. "I'll get the truck."

Alone in a stranger's apartment, in a little town that they would likely never visit again. The solitude was more powerful than any chemical they could have ingested. In it their timidity was all but gone; they were sure of themselves, sure of what they were doing and what they wanted to do. The why still hadn't been fully worked out, that was true, but the two of them decided to let go of that question.

Embraced in a kiss, they pushed forward into one of the bedrooms. The walls inside were bare and dirty clothes littered the floor. Megan groped at the wall, found the switch, and flipped off the lights. They relished getting lost in the dark.

"So what exactly are we going to do?" Megan asked. 

"Whatever you want?" Sydney said. She could feel an awkward hesitation in the way that her friend shifted.

"What is it?"

"Nothing . . . it's just . . ."

"What is it?"

"Well I feel stupid saying it."

"Really? You're going to stand there and feel stupid around me? Your best friend? Out with it already."

"Okay. I . . . I want to taste to."

"I'd like that," she said before she had even thought about the proposition.

A flair up of passion. The two danced about clumsily until they found the bed. Sydney went on her back, lifted her legs up so that Megan could pull her shorts off. Megan was half done with the job when Sydney stopped her.

"What is it?"

Sydney looked apologetically at her friend. "I'm sorry."

"What, you don't want to do this?"

"No, I do . . . maybe we could slow down a bit?"

"Sure. What do you want to do?" She lied down next to Sydney and coolly ran her fingers through her hair, though inside she was burning up.

"Let's take a bath."

Megan understood. Sydney was self-conscious. She wanted to smell and to taste all right.

The tiny bathroom stood directly above street below. So it was that amongst the distant sounds of traffic and pedestrian chatter, in a tub of hot, soapy water, Megan felt and tasted the inside of another woman for the very first time. The response to her probing fingers and tongue, the tight grip and the ecstatic moans, was addictive. Megan wanted to feel her friend give in like that over and over again, and so she did as the night turned to a dull grey morning. When the two were spent they fell asleep in each other's arms, not caring who might discover them.

***

They only had that one night, but the transformation was substantial. By the time they got back to Willow Head on Sunday they could feel it in themselves as they walked around. They wondered if anybody else could sense it. Were little children attuned to such things? Maybe yes, maybe no. Megan watched them during orientation and tried to plant herself in their heads. She thought back to when she was that young. She never paid attention to the subtle signals that adults send back and forth.

These signals were subtle yet profound. Later that day Megan and Sydney were talking to each other when Susan walked by. In a glance her smile dissolved into a knowing look. It was angry, spiteful -- scary. That night the girls met in the boathouse and discussed the situation. They wondered when they would get another visit from Mark. Or maybe this time it would be Susan herself, bounding through the mess hall one morning with termination slips in hand.

But then neither of them had done anything since they had been back. Why was she so angry? Sydney guessed that it might have been a moral objection of some kind.

"Well then, that's her own damn problem," Megan said. She was beginning to dislike Susan and the things that she stood for. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Her entire existence is wrapped up in controlling other people."

Sydney thought this was a low blow. "Don't you feel a sense of appreciation?" she asked. "I think she's helped us a lot. If it wasn't for this place when we were young, who knows what kind of condition we would be in by now."

A sense of appreciation. Sydney had a point, and Megan knew it. But then, that wasn't the point Megan thought as she climbed into bed later that evening. The words weighed heavily on her mind. Sydney had taken sides. She wasn't supposed to take sides. What was she doing taking sides?

The next morning, Megan got up early and made it over to Sydney's cabin. She crept through the rows of sleeping campers and into Sydney's bedroom.

"Hey, what's up?" Sydney yawned as her friend climbed into bed with her.

"You want to come to Europe with me?" Megan said.

Sydney looked at her in shock. "You mean, quit school?"

"Yeah," Megan said, her smile beginning to falter. Suddenly she felt foolish for sneaking into her friend's room and pushing herself on her.

"I don't know."

Megan was silent.

"It's not that I wouldn't enjoy it, Meg. It's just that . . ."

"Yeah I know," Megan said. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

Susan never came for the girls. On the contrary, she disappeared mysteriously. Nobody saw her for the entire week. Mark was forced to fill in for her, and the disdain at having to do this was shining like the Sun on his face. All over the camp he moped and muttered angry comments under his breath: "damn it" and "I'm not even qualified for this" and "she must be pissed off at me". The councilors all worried that he might be scaring the children, so they decided one morning at breakfast to go and pay Susan a visit. Those who had no idea about Sydney and Megan opted for them to go, but Levi interjected.

"I don't think it should be Megan or Sydney," he said. "We need someone with more time under their belt."

"Yeah, but everyone knows that Sue likes these two the most," one of them said as he pointed a milky spoon at the two girls.

"No. I'll go," Levi said.

"I think we should do it," Sydney interjected. Megan shot her a dirty look. "Like you guys said, she seems to like us the most."

Underneath the table Megan gave her friend a subtle but clear message in the form of a kick to the shin. It said: "What the hell is wrong with you? We need to stay out of that lady's crosshairs." Sydney remained silent, but her silence answered loudly: "No, we have to do this. This is our battle."

Just then they spotted Susan, in the doorway of the Mess Hall. It didn't seem possible, but her complexion was several shades lighter than usual. Her hair looked as if it hadn't been washed in days, and her bloodshot eyes were pulled down by the considerable weight of two dark bags. She looked at the councilor's table -- directly at the two girls -- and took a few shaky steps in their direction. Then she stopped as if she had just realized where she was, and she scratched her head. She stepped back, then stepped forward again, but this time on a trajectory to the other side of the cafeteria.

"Jesus, she doesn't look good. I hope everything's alright," someone said. Everyone at the table nodded in unison.

That night the girls went back to the boathouse, but they found the doors padlocked.

"This is really starting to creep me out," Megan announced. "She has it in for us."

Sydney made no reply. Instead she just stood there silently, studying the lock. "We really should go to see her," she said.

"Why?"

"Well, to find out if this has anything to do with us."

"Of course it does; it has everything to do with us. Why aren't you freaking out about this?"

"What good is freaking out going to do?" Sydney responded. Again, she was right. But it wasn't about being right, Megan repeated to herself over and over as the two went back to their bunks.

Transformations are sometimes amazing in their speed and totality. The girls learned this firsthand the following morning, when they finally got their chance to talk to Susan. She showed up to the bi-weekly morning briefing, looking like a completely different person. She was composed, bright, energetic.

"Let's talk about today's hike," she said in a bucolic tone. She tucked her chin down and read from an old clipboard. "Let's see . . . Megan and Sydney, you two are both up for round one." She looked up and gave them both a cheerful smile. "Is that alright with you?" They both nodded. "Great. After breakfast you take your campers back to their cabins and get ready. Let's all meet in the parking lot at nine."




Explorers



The hike was an all-morning affair. It was physically demanding, a total of three and a half miles, first up to the peak of Little Bear ridge and then down again. Both Sydney and Megan remembered how awful the mosquitoes were when they did the hike years ago. They really caked on the bug repellent, and made sure that their campers did as well, so that by the time they headed out to the parking lot they smelled like a roving heard of citronella candles.

Some campers invariably fell behind the pack, and so it was that Sydney had to stay behind with them while Megan and Susan lead the rest of the group along the trail. It was a brilliant day. The sky was deep blue and filled with white clouds, though the air was hot, and the mosquitoes apparently immune to the bug repellant. Sydney kept smacking her legs, arms and neck, silently cursing herself for not wearing long pants and a long sleeve shirt. Up ahead, in front of the mass of little bodies chugging along, she could make out the upper halves of Sydney and Susan. They were walking close together, and appeared to be in conversation.

After thirty minutes the pack stopped. Susan jogged down to Sydney.

"I think it's time for a break," she said. She had a sparkle in her eyes, though it wasn't anything that Sydney had remembered seeing before. It was contradictory; it had a way of looking both vital and non-vital at the same time. She wondered now what Susan and Megan had been talking about.

The girls helped dispense the trail mix and fruit juice to the campers, and found a seat for themselves at the base of a large rock outcrop ten feet from the trail.

"So is everything cool with Sue?" Sydney asked.

"I guess so." Megan was tracing a shape into the earth with a stick.

"You're not still upset with me, are you?"

Megan looked up at her friend.

"It's just an awful lot to ask, Meg."

Instinctively, Megan looked around for Susan, fearing that their conversation might be overheard.

"Hey, where is she?"

Sydney responded. "Susan? Probably went off for a pee."

Megan looked down to the ground again, picked up her stick. Sydney could sense the question coming.

"If you could . . . you know, take off from school and come with me . . . I mean if you were free to do so, would you?"

Sydney closed her eyes. "I don't know, Meg."

Only seconds later the scream came. The two dashed off into the woods to find Susan's limp body resting in a patch of Wood Nettle. Her smile drooped like the tiny streams of blood flowing down her wrists, but she looked peaceful, like a traveler who had been out in the hot sun all day long and was now laying down for a nap in the cool shade.

Many years later, that afternoon would come to the girls as a terrifying dream, and would wake them up in the middle of the night. Megan would open her eyes and reach out to her side, feeling around for a body, whoever happened to be sleeping next to her, whoever she happened to have picked up at the bar that night. She would feel their body gently rising and falling with each unconscious breath, and this movement soothed her. Sydney would wake up and reach out for her husband, invariably waking him. And when he rolled over and asked her what was wrong, she would come up with some white lie.

But it wasn't the grizzly discovery that haunted each of them into their womanhood. Instead it was that feeling of helplessness, that feeling of futility that they both so viscerally experienced that afternoon, as they gazed at Susan's corpse while the children around them cried.



Explorer's Booty



It was 1949 in the wilderness of Brazil where I'd been on expedition for many months.

My name is Matthew and I'd sought for years a hidden location to a gold deposit in the country that was said to have been stored in caves during the years where settlers and travelers would roam through the country. Though it was mainly just considered a fool's errand, I'd spent years obsessed with the potential of uncovering gold for the sake of better understanding history for the world, and garnering an exhibit for my local museum. 

It'd been six months in the damp humidity of the wilderness and my team and I had braved the elements and rough terrain to finally make it through a path that was dangerous and warned of demons that protected the area. I was often so driven that I risked life and limb to obtain my goal, and one particular steamy afternoon found my trailing off from my team to pursue a hunch involving animal carcasses found near a brush of trees. 

Many were convinced it was cursed ground, but I'd had the sneaking suspicion it was a ploy to keep potential thieves back. Though the others fears approaching the graveyard, I braved it and found myself walking through a dark cave caked with a floor of cold wet mud. I pressed on and held my torch high above my head as I'd ventured deeper in to the cave, and stopped by a small cliff.

I was at an impasse looking around at the darkness, and gazed down in awe at the large pool of blue water at the bottom of the cliff. Unaware of the depth of the pool, I turned to alert the rest of my team and lost my footing. The mud created a slick soapy sheet under my boots causing me to lose my balance in mere seconds. I yelped dropping my torch and watched it go out in the darkness as I held on to the edge of the cliff.

Struggling for a moment I looked down and decided to leave it to the fates and released my grip. After a brief moment I dropped in to the water, and by my luck it was deep enough to allow me to float for a moment as I swam to the edge of the pool. I panted sliding back and sighed in relief looking up at the darkness of the cave ceiling. I sat up in attention looking up as a shadow dashed along the rocks back and forth, almost stalking me in a predatory fashion.

I held my knife up in defense as a low feline growl echoed through the caves. From the darkness I saw the pair of yellow eyes peering through me. I quickly stood up, prepared to defend myself and before I could build up the courage, the beast dropped at my feet in such a roar I couldn't help but fall to the ground again with the knife firmly in hand.

Surely, it wasn't an animal I'd ever seen before. I wasn't even sure it was an animal of any kind. She was only what I could describe as a perfect hybrid of an adult woman and jungle cat. She was tall and limber, but very well developed and curvaceous. In place of her skin was short animal fur you'd normally find on a cheetah, and her large bust was covered by a tattered clinging top. I was stunned by her sheer beauty and the brown spots over her dark yellow fur that covered her body did little to hide her beauty.

She observed me, perking her large ears up over her long black hair and twitched her muzzle along her face, almost smelling for a particular scent from me. I merely sat watching her and observing her features. She exposed her sharp teeth to me in a threatening manner and hissed slashing at my chest as I cried out dropping back on to the ground, readying a fight she would surely win. 

I cringed holding my bleeding chest in pain as she growled and moaned almost in pain. She turned stomping back to the edge of the water and growled under her breath, groaning and moaning as I sat up braving communication. 

"Do you speak English?" I gulped, looking over at her, "Do you talk? Do you... understand me?" I spoke to her in her native tongue, and waited as she watched me angrily, and squirmed around almost in pain. She pounced on me again as I stood in place, shuddering from fright, and she began tearing at the cloth on my body, finally making her way to her desired area. I lay on my back watching in shock as she seemed almost ready to devour me whole. But as her claws detracted pressing both hands down on my chest, she straddled me, and much to my surprise moaned in ecstasy, sounding more human than feline.

I was too shocked and confused to notice, but as I lay under the strong beast, I noticed she'd not only tore through my pants, but I was now fully erect, and she'd mounted me, riding me slowly and easy. She was in pain, but only from heat like every other animal in the wilderness. She'd found food, shelter, and water, but definitely not a mate for her to breed with, and surely enough I was a prime target. I lay still watching her writhe and as I relaxed and my fright faded, I began to enjoy her motioning down on my erect cock. I lay moaning softly allowing her to gain whatever dominance she wanted, and the momentum picked up quickly as she began fucking me harder. 

I seized the moments tearing her tattered top away and clutched her large fur covered breasts with both hands and squeezing with a moan as she leaned forward inviting more groping. As I squeezed her breasts and round backside, the session only became rougher and louder with her moaning and purring echoing throughout the cave for what seemed like an eternity. She'd moaned halting and panted slid away from my grips settling along the floor. I panted crawling back as she looked over at me in a state of arousal, and submitted herself to me on all fours, perking her tail and butt up to me. 

I walked over and slid my cock in to her from behind and pounded her fast and hard as she moaned, bending her back and savoring every moment as I pounded on her harder and harder finally cumming in to her. I cried out clutching her waist and leaned over grasping her breasts with both hands, groaning as I came harder the more she allowed me touch her body. Moments passed. I lay along the floor in disbelief and in pure euphoria as she slithered away in to the darkness, apparently resting from the intense love making she likely hadn't acquired in years. I zipped up the remains of my pants, and snuck out as she slept, hoping to make my way to daylight before she'd decided she would either keep me with her for as long as she pleased, or as a meal.

I slipped out making my way down the caves, and found a surefire exit. I looked back noticing the beast had watched me leave. She was certainly allowing me to leave as I'd pleased, almost ensuring me I was still in her territory. She was the hunter that day, and found what she wanted from me, an unlikely trespasser. I was in Brazil for four more months, and visited the caves often, revisiting the feline woman frequently, and submitted myself to her as a mate until I'd left back to America. I never told anyone of my find, as it was the first treasure I was unwilling to share.