Camp Affair

[Phantasy_Star]

Justine is an 18 year old camp counselor who is having some relationship issues. I'd like to have a RP with people who can fill these roles:

1) Justine's meagerly-endowed, pushy boyfriend (soon to be ex, the way he's going)
2) Justine's new interest (guy or girl) a fellow counselor who's got everything her bf lacks...and more
3) Justine's best friend, Taylor (guy or girl), who advises her about how to deal with her conflicting emotions...should she stay with Alan, or go with this new person? She's so close to cheating...but what should she really do? We can take it anywhere from there, as I am fairly no-limits.

Justine's character is diminutive (about 5 feet), thin but with a bit of a booty, with short black hair and glasses, usually dressed in a white t-shirt, sneakers and bluejeans. A bit of a nerdy, innocent look to her, but she has a lot of spirit and is tougher than she appears.

The story begins here:::::

She felt his fingertips dig between her ribs. They were clammy and twitchy.

Rapid panting filled her ears. Desperate breaths moistened her shoulders, leaving behind the scent of mayonnaise and onions. As much as she loved him, she hoped this would end quickly.

It usually did. But there was something wild glimmering in his eyes this time, and if her past experiences were any guide, that rarely boded well.

"Tell me how big it is, Justine," he said in a voice that sounded more pleading than he likely wished. "C'mon."

"Um…it's so big, Alan," she replied dutifully, wincing slightly as her boyfriend reentered her slippery anus. It didn't seem to matter how halfheartedly she mouthed these familiar words; Alan always found them inspiring.

"That's…th-that's right," he said, grinding his hips against her buttocks. His penis slinked a notch deeper into Justine's crack, though it still scarcely bypassed her sphincter. She sighed into her pillow, flexing her hole quickly in an attempt to quicken his climax.

"Say it again. Tell me more about how big it is, little girl," he said in a hiccupy, furtive whisper.

Justine hated it when he called her that. The words "little girl" sounded so…creepy coming out of his mouth, with that fearful little trill he added to it.

It sometimes made her wonder if he wished she were even younger. But this was just part of a harmless fantasy, wasn't it? She was simply facilitating it, like a good girlfriend should.

Right?

"Say it, Justine! What are you waiting for?" Alan whined impatiently from behind her.

"Your penis is so big, Alan," she reiterated with as much sincerity as she could muster, which was not much. "It's filling me up, um…so much. It's the biggest ever."

"Bigger than your ex-boyfriend's, right, little girl?"

"Oh definitely, yeah. The biggest ever. Like, it's almost too big for me, because uh, I'm a little girl," she said, staring blankly into the darkness of the woods as Alan poked away with spastic, noisy jabs.

Justine knew what those movements meant, and she contracted her anus in response. This had the effect of ejecting Alan's penis, but not before he quickly erupted inside of her, firing several hot ropes of semen into her bowels.

WIth a groan, he dismounted Justine and rolled down to the nylon floor.

The pillows underneath her, which had been used to prop her butt up to the angle of his liking, came askew, causing her to sink flat to her belly.

A flap of her sleek black hair fell over her eyes. Which was fine, because she did not care to look at him yet. As she lay there next to him, she sensed he wasn't yet satisfied. His breathing hadn't yet calmed down the way it usually does after he's had an orgasm.

Quietly she waited. He grunted, and then she heard him open his mouth.

"Look at me," Alan said, his stout, pasty body rising up from the corner of Justine's eye. She forced herself to look at him, her small dark eyes resting at his bearded jawline.

"Does it bother you?" he asked with a barely-concealed frustration in his voice. "You know."

"What?" Justine responded, trying to appear unaware of what he was referencing. She knew well what he was getting at, but did not wish to agitate his insecurities. She'd just play along and tell him what he wants to hear, she thought. It certainly wouldn't be the first time.

"Don't play dumb," Alan said, pacing around the cramped space of the tent. "Tell me what you really think of it."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Alan. Maybe we should go to bed and talk in the morning?"

"No, we need to talk now. Tomorrow will be busy back at the camp anyway. You have to pick up the girls from Badger Oar South at 7:30 am to do that all-day hike, remember? There won't be any time for us to talk."

"Well, what do you want to talk about?" Justine said. The small sting between her buttocks spiked for a moment, making her aware of the growing tension in her body.

"You know," Alan said, huffing. "My dick."

"What do you mean? I like your…penis," Justine said, though she couldn't completely conceal the germ of disingenuousness hiding in her voice. She knew he detected it too, because his voice got louder, and his face got redder.

"Do you really?" He said in an accusatory tone. "When we have sex, you always sound like you're faking it."

Justine felt frustration surge through her. He didn't seem to care that she'd done so much to accommodate his quirks and shortcomings. These conversations were coming up more and more often, and it seemed like no answer she gave him was the right one.

But then again, maybe that was because she never told him the flat truth. In the moment, it almost exited her lips, but she caught herself, remembering her humility as well as his temper.

Instead, she just tried to smile. Her eyes trailed down a second, glimpsing the small rosy stub between his legs. His penis was, they both knew, unusually small.

She estimated its erect size to be roughly comparable to her pinky in both length and width, and it was shrouded in a large thicket of reddish-brown pubic hair.

His testicles were neither very substantial, resembling two pink prunes. This didn't, however, seem to hinder the volume of his ejaculate; the copious amount that had begun to leak from her anus was a reminder of this.

"Answer me, will you!" Alan said, whipping his arms up dramatically.

"Well, Alan, it's just that—" Justine started, searching for the softest words to use before quickly realizing there were no soft words to say what she truly should say. She sat up on the floor, looking up at her boyfriend's troubled face, and continued.

"It's just that…you only want to have anal sex now. It's literally all we do together when you're in the mood. We haven't had normal sex since, when? The first week I met you? It's just…can't we switch it up a bit?"

"Anal sex just feels better. And it feels bigger, for you," Alan protested. "What's the big deal? You can still touch yourself—"

"Please, Alan, don't make me explain this to you…"

"I want you to tell me!" Alan yelled.

"Shh! Lower your voice!" Justine said. Although they were stationed farther up the creek than most other counselors, she still worried that they'd be heard.

"Why? Why not let the whole camp know I have a shrimp dick?" Alan barked. "And that even my own girlfriend doesn't like it."

"You're acting like a baby," Justine said. "You know I like you a lot. But every time we get intimate, you become this…other person."

"This is the real me," Alan said. He was brimming with some kind of nervous energy. "And the real me is gonna make…my little girl understand."

"Alan, I'm not a little girl! I'm turning nineteen next month, remember? Sometimes I wish you'd just get over your penis issues, so we can just—"

"Shut up. Get back up on those pillows. I'm not done with you yet—"

"I think we should stop," Justine said, standing up. She grabbed the belt loops of the bluejeans that had previously been yanked down to her shins, tugging them back up along with her underwear. "I'm going to sleep in Taylor's tent tonight. I just hope it's not so late that I wake anyone up."

Justine grabbed her things and marched out of the tent into the chilly black forest. She could hear Alan yelling angrily behind her, hurtful words...but she knew that's just what he did when he was mad. He'd probably be apologizing profusely in the morning like he usually does.

When she reached the bottom of the dark road, she found her friend's tent. The light inside was still on, thankfully.

 

[saedo]

Taylor looked up from her book. The nights could get a little windy here, so there was always the low background rattle of the leaves. But she was pretty sure she'd heard something else.

Yes, there it was. Definitely someone shouting. But since it wasn't coming from the campers' tents, it probably wasn't worth getting up for. No, the sound heralded from up the hill.

Taylor sighed. Probably Justine and Alan again. The blonde shook her head in dismay. Why was it that the two people in a relationship could never see the writing on the wall like an outsider? The two of them should just do the whole camp a favor and break up. At least it would be different from the nearly routine nighttime drama.

You could almost count on it like clockwork. Every couple days, the two of them would get in a row after light's out. The next morning, one of them (usually Justine) would be giving the other the cold shoulder. The other (usually Alan) would be trying to charm their way into forgiveness. By dinner time, they were usually back to coy flirting again. But that night or the next, another blow-up and the cycle started again.

Taylor set her book down and waited. She had the dubious honor of actually knowing the details of these repeated arguments. Justine didn't talk much to the other counselors, but somehow Taylor had wound up her only confidant. Taylor enjoyed having the inside scoop at first, but the repetitive nature of the couple's arguments had worn down the appeal. But having earned that trusted status now meant that whenever Justine got mad enough to storm off, her standard retreat was to Taylor's tent.

Sure enough, several minutes after the last muffled shouting died away, Taylor heard footsteps outside and a tapping on the tent flaps.

"Come on in," Taylor beckoned.

As expected, Justine's head poked between the canvas flaps. Her eyes blinked behind her glasses in the relative brightness of the tent interior. The rest of her slender frame followed. She was a cute little thing, if you liked girls in glasses and a height just barely more than some of their tallest campers. Pity she didn't have more of a bustline to balance out her plump ass, but still a nice figure.

"Another fight with Alan,"Taylor remarked. "Why don't you two just break up?"

The question was mostly rhetorical at this point. The couple had been on and off so many times that it seemed inexorable. Still, it wasn't like they were devoid of alternatives. Most of the counselors were single, so each of them had options. (Taylor, thank God, wasn't one of them; though she could only see her boyfriend on weekends, he was definitely worth the weekday wait.) You'd think one of them would just hook up with someone else just to break the cycle.

"So what sparked it this time?" Taylor continued. "More problems in bed?"

 

[Phantasy_Star]

Justine let out a morose sigh, averting her eyes as she slinked inside. She quickly sunk to her knees, then scrunched her compact body into the fetal position. Her chest quivered dramatically with each breath, and tears began to stream down her cheeks.

Of course, this was nothing new; Taylor's claustrophobic little tent had become something of a therapy booth for Justine in the past few weeks. Although she felt guilty burdening her friend like this, she couldn't help herself. Who else could she talk to about this? Certainly no one at the camp, she thought. It would be too embarrassing.

After a few moments, she gathered herself and slouched to an upward position. She slowly edged her dark eyes upward until she finally had the courage to look at Taylor. Even in Justine's distress, she couldn't help but take note how uncommonly pretty Taylor was, even in the dead of night without a drop of makeup on. She could easily be a model. Justine often wondered why she wasn't.

"I…I don't even know anymore," Justine began with a sniffle. "This is getting so old. Maybe you're right. Maybe I should just leave him."

She bit her lip, waiting for a response, but when she read the subtle impatience on Taylor's porcelain face, she felt the kneejerk urge to elaborate on her unraveling thoughts. She cleared her throat and buried her chilly hands under her legs, then continued.

"I mean, it's just…okay, look. I know this is TMI, but...my butt is sore every day now. Every day! I'm so sick of it. It's not even the actual sex that hurts, it's just the way he digs in there with his fingers like I'm some kind of ragdoll…it's like he doesn't hear me once he gets started, he's so obsessed. It's like he wants me to be something else! Some kind of…ugh…I don't even want to say."

Justine paused, and she reached out, grabbing Taylor's shoulder through her heavy quilted blanket. Her voice was pleading and desperate.

"I wouldn't even care about his penis if he just cared about using it to make us both happy, instead of just himself…but it doesn't even matter anymore. Taylor, I want you and me to the way we used to be, best friends, not therapist and patient. But I can't do this alone. So I need you to just tell me once and for all…what do you think I should do?"

 

[saedo]

Taylor suppressed a groan. Another round of the Justine and Alan soap opera. She'd been hoping to skip a night.

Still, she couldn't fault Justine entirely. Taylor's boyfriend her freshman year had turned out to be a two-timing jerk, but she'd ignored the early warning signs and the warnings of friends. For whatever reason, Justine had a similar emotional blind spot for Alan. Taylor couldn't criticize Justine for falling into the same mental sinkhole.

Taylor did her level best to be supportive. It wasn't easy. Much of Justine's complaints were about her sex life, which ordinarily Taylor would have enjoyed. But Alan's penchant for anal sex meant Justine was always talking about getting fucked in the ass. After a couple weeks of this, Taylor was fervently hoping they might try a new position.

Worse, Taylor now knew far more about Alan's penis than she ever wanted to know. Just thinking about it conjured up images of a pink, slender, pitiful cock that just made Taylor want to shudder. Taylor had sufficient experience to know that penises came in all sorts of shapes and sizes, but the thought of Alan's underwhelming manhood made her uneasy.

I mean, it's just…okay, look. I know this is TMI, but...my butt is sore every day now. Every day! I'm so sick of it. It's not even the actual sex that hurts, it's just the way he digs in there with his fingers like I'm some kind of ragdoll…it's like he doesn't hear me once he gets started, he's so obsessed. It's like he wants me to be something else! Some kind of…ugh…I don't even want to say."

Taylor scrunched down in her bedding. It was taking considerable willpower not to bury her head beneath her pillow. She really, really didn't want these images in her head.

So I need you to just tell me once and for all…what do you think I should do?"

Taylor raised a cautious eyebrow. Justine sounded almost sincere this time. In the past, she'd just railed about Alan until she tired out, but she hadn't really wanted input from Taylor.* Now Justine seemed to be actually soliciting an opinion.

"Well, you remember how I told you the first time that if the sex wasn't good, that you should talk to him? And then you said you had talked to him but that the sex wasn't any better? So then I suggested that if the sex still weren't improving, then maybe you should stop having it?" Taylor waited for Justine to nod. "Then that's what I think you should do: stop having sex with him."

Taylor held up a hand before Justine could respond. "Don't freak out about this. Alan is a decent guy and you're a sweet girl, but that appears to be as far as it goes. You gave it a good effort, but the sex just isn't much fun for you - maybe him, too. So stop and move on.

" You shouldn't be this invested in a summertime fling. Just because you fucked him repeatedly doesn't mean you're engaged. You're not bound to him all summer. Hook up with someone else.

Taylor snapped her fingers. "How about Brandon? He's kinda cute. Yeah, the height difference is a bit noticeable." Brandon was well over 6', with the slender, lanky build of a basketball player; compared to tiny little Justine, he was a giant, albeit one with narrow shoulders. "But who cares? Once you get him horizontal, height doesn't matter." Taylor winked salaciously.

"Tomorrow, you should tell Alan that it's over and you want to see other people. Tell him it was fun, but you want to try new things. Don't explain. And definitely don't tell anyone the real reason. You announce to everyone what you think of Alan's dick and he'll never live it down. You don't need to make him a blood enemy. Moreover, the guys might laugh, but they'll also secretly think you're a cruel bitch who will backstab them the same way. No, just keep it quick and simple. Then you can go flirt with Brandon."

 

[Phantasy_Star]

Justine paused, a small crease forming on her brow. Was it that obvious that she had a small crush on Brandon? Her little stolen glances, however swift and furtive, must have been more obvious than she intended. Although she didn't want to admit it, she found herself fantasizing about Brandon even when her and Alan were hooking up; it started to become the only thing that helped her get through it, and there was that time she almost slipped up and called out his name…

"Taylor…you know me to well," she said, a weak smile creeping onto her young face. "How'd you know…" she bit her lip, then read the answer in Taylor's eyes: she knew because she's perceptive. Taylor could read people extraordinarily well. By contrast, Justine was less intuitive. She was always a little socially clumsy, especially since she spent so much of her spare time reading books instead of talking to people. She wondered if maybe that's why she attracted guys like Alan. Guys that probably liked the fact that she was socially stunted, so they could have her all to themselves. The thought suddenly made her mad.

"Maybe you're right. I don't know if Brandon likes me, though…he's so tall and statuesque and easygoing, and I'm this little squat bundle of stress. But…I haven't always been this way. I was easygoing too, before I started dating jerks like Alan…so yeah, maybe you…have a point."

Justine laid flat on the nylon floor of the tent, spreading her legs and arms out and taking a deep breath. She listened to the crickets, and the sound of Taylor's impatient breathing. And then she finally sat back up, and nodded her head. "Alright. I'm going to do it. Tomorrow morning. It's…gonna suck. He's gonna yell at me. But I have to do it. Maybe we can all just be friends once it blows over."

Justine inched a bit closer to Taylor and touched the back of her hand.

"Thank you…" she muttered, blinking rapidly. "Can I…sleep here tonight? I don't wanna go back to my tent now. It'll just be more hollering. Tomorrow morning I'm going to find my own spot."

 

[saedo]

Taylor listened with interest. Hard to believe, but Justine was finally ready to see reason. Pity that it'd taken her so long.

"Alright. I'm going to do it. Tomorrow morning. It's…gonna suck. He's gonna yell at me. But I have to do it. Maybe we can all just be friends once it blows over."

Taylor shook her head. Her high school years were only a few years behind her, but almost seemed a lifetime ago. She said another silent prayer for her Jacob. He'd been quite the catch just on a physical level, but in the months of dating since, she'd had grown increasingly appreciative of his maturity. Their disagreements didn't blow up into torrid emotional dramas like Justine and Alan. Just watching the two of them in mid-snit was exhausting.

"He'll get over it. You're just looking for a summer fling, not a lifetime commitment. You're entitled to date around while you're young."

"Can I…sleep here tonight? I don't wanna go back to my tent now. It'll just be more hollering. Tomorrow morning I'm going to find my own spot."

Taylor sighed. She'd hoped that Justine might take this newfound confidence back to her own tent. Taylor hadn't minded the first couple times that Justine had stayed in the tent, but it was starting to grate.

In particular, it interfered with Taylor's pre-sleep ritual. Jacob was only able to visit on Saturdays, so the lack of his warm presence in her bed left her left her craving his presence. It certainly didn't help knowing that Justine was getting pumped by Alan every night, even if Alan wasn't particularly good at it.

Left to her own devices, Taylor would assuage her cravings with her nimble fingers. It was certainly a poor substitute for Jacob; the man was surprisingly good with his tongue and dear God his cock was beyond incredible. Still, a poor substitute was better than none at all.

But she could hardly indulge herself with Justine here. It would certainly be rude to Justine. Even if her guest didn't mind, Taylor certainly would. Taylor had experimented once and swiftly determined that she was unequivocally straight. No way could she hope to get off a few feet from some other girl.

"Sure," Taylor offered. "You're welcome to stay." She reached for the electric lamp. "Best get to sleep; you've got a big day with Alan in the morning."

Taylor rolled over and closed her eyes. One more night and then perhaps these late night visits would end. One more night. Such thoughts eventually eased her into a dreamless sleep.

 

[Phantasy_Star]

Justine watched her friend roll over and envelop herself, cocoon-like, in her thick bedsheets. Clearly Taylor wanted to be left alone. Justine couldn't fathom why; she could scarcely imagine why Taylor didn't want to stay up all night gossiping about boys like they used to. Maybe they were growing apart? It hurt her to think so, but she decided instead to consider this a mere rocky spot in their friendship, and one that would become much smoother once she officially dropped her impotent, possessive boyfriend.

Why couldn't he be more like Jacob? She was jealous of Taylor in more ways than she wanted to admit, and she even found herself silently lusting after the 29-year-old physical therapist who came around to Taylor's tent every saturday. Thinking strange thoughts of them together, Justine shut her eyes, finding her lids heavier than she'd even realized, and within moments she was fast asleep.

Birds chirping. She could her rustling about her, and muffled voices. Some familiar, some not. Taylor's voice echoed in the far distance, sounding slightly perturbed and busied. Justine slowly opened her eyes, finding that the sunlight pouring through the bright orange roof of the tent had become blaring and hot on her face. She groaned and turned to her side, then slowly rose to her bare feet.

She straightened her rumpled t-shirt and slipped her sneakers back on, stumbling out into the open air with squinty, bleary eyes. The first thing that caught her eye was Brandon. He was standing cluelessly in the shadow of a tree, staring off into the distance. Although he'd only been a counselor for a few weeks, the children all loved him, and he seemed to have a genuine air of confidence about him that Justine couldn't resist. She'd also heard an offhand rumor from an ex that he was uncommonly endowed, and although she found this fact slightly intimidating, she couldn't help but wonder how different it would be in comparison to what she'd had to endure with her soon-to-be-ex for the past few months. ..

Brandon turned his head, staring at her quizzically for a moment. It was the first time in her mind she remembered him ever really acknowledging her, and she cursed herself for looking so out of sorts and unmade-up. Her dark hair was frizzed up and her face was devoid of makeup. "Oh god..." she muttered, wondering why he seemed to be approaching her...

 

[saedo]

Taylor shook her head slightly. Why couldn't Justine have put a little effort into getting herself together in the morning? She looked like she'd just rolled out of bed. After last night's speech about wanting to find a new guy, you'd think the girl would actually make a little effort. Put on a bit of blush and lipstick, maybe try to tame that hair - something.

Taylor sighed. Well, there was no doing anything about it now. When Taylor awoke and found Justine curled up in her tent again, she was reminded again just how eager she was to have Justine break this hot-and-cold cycle with Alan. But given Justine's wishy-washy track record, Taylor wasn't going to rely on Justine to follow through on her own.

Taylor had instead arisen and left quietly so that she could talk with Brandon. She'd caught him just outside his own tent, his hair freshly wet from his morning shower. Like pretty much all the guys, his eyes went down to her chest, but Taylor had long ago accepted that having a great rack made such attention unavoidable. To his credit, he kept his glance short, so he was definitely more a gentleman than most.

He wasn't too bad to look at himself. Granted, he had that beanpole physique, but his lanky frame had some nice muscle tone. He didn't have Alan's boyish handsomeness, but Brandon's easygoing smile and warm eyes gave him a certain pleasantness.

Plus, there was also Kirsten's inside information. Kirsten thought it was silly to try to form long term relationships at camp, so she had a strict 3-day policy. She made clear at the outset that she'd only date a guy for a few days and then it was automatically over. Consequently, she'd ended up dating most of the guys in camp. Strangely, the system worked. Everyone knew going in it was a short term thing, so no one got upset when she moved on.

Anywise, since Taylor was the only female at camp with a boyfriend outside camp, the two of them weren't in competition and became fast friends. Consequently, Taylor knew from Kirsten that Brandon had a very nice cock. It was no rival to her Jacob, but given what Alan had been sticking Justine with every night, it should prove a welcome surprise for little Justine.

It hadn't taken much to push Brandon in Justine's direction. Taylor had hinted that Justine and Alan had broken up for good and that Justine might need a little comforting. Taylor had even vaguely suggested that Justine might have once mentioned thinking Brandon was cute. Without ever directly suggesting Brandon go talk to Justine, Taylor had made sure that's exactly what would happen.

Taylor now watched to see the results. She could only hope Justine wouldn't screw it up. If she just played her cards right, Taylor expected Justine would be bouncing on Brandon's cock before nightfall.

 

[Phantasy_Star]

Justine blanched. She was clearly enamored of Brandon, but perhaps a bit too much so for her own good; as he approached her, Taylor could see her friend freeze like a deer in headlights. The boy flashed her a toothy grin and folded his arms across his broad chest.

"Hi," he said cooly, almost hushed, as if to acknowledge how fragile Justine seemed. It was easy to see that he was immediately charmed by how unpretentious Justine appeared. She wasn't like most of the female counselors; there was something almost prematurely dowdy about her, with her large coke bottle glasses and utter lack of makeup or fashion sense. Her preternaturally youthful face contrasted with this impression in a way that prompted Brandon to comment on it.

"You must have an old soul," he said with a grin. "I always see you reading these really big, difficult-looking books on your spare time. Like, stuff they only make you read in school, and do book reports on. Haha, I have to admit…it's interesting."

"Oh!" Justine blurted, not sure whether to feel intensely dorky or flattered. She hadn't realized that her quiet reading sessions by under the oak trees after lunch ever attracted anyone's attention. "Well…haha…I just like to stay sharp!" she immediately choked on her words, feeling ridiculous.

"Sharp," Brandon repeated with further amusement. "You look plenty sharp. I fancy myself a reader too, but maybe not the stuff you like…"

"Oh, I love all kinds of books! What do you like?" Justine chirped. She caught a glimpse of Taylor out of the corner of her eye, feeling the pressure of her judgment, but she tried to remain calm.

"Well…" Brandon began with a small laugh, "I'm like, really getting into uh, The Hunger Games trilogy? I saw the movie and it made me want to read the book…"

"That's cool!" Justine said, sounding as if she were convincing herself more than expressing an actual opinion. Truthfully, she was too much of a silent literary snob to fully appreciate Brandon's response, but it was still something to work with. "Yes, they're very consistent…and creative books!"

"Consistent…yeah, now that I think of it, they are. I mean, I'm only on the second book but it seems as good as the first…"

"The third one's the best," Justine said, though she hadn't actually read it, and she wondered if she were digging her own grave now. Luckily Brandon didn't seem to dwell much on it.

"Oh, cool. I'll look forward to it then!" He said, running his fingers through his mop of curly hair. "So uh, besides reading and camping, what do you like to do?"

"I like lots of stuff…" Justine said in a whisper. "I mean, whatever you want to do. I mean…uh. I just mean that I'm openminded about stuff…I'll try anything once, haha," she said, surprising herself. She wondered if Taylor was still paying attention, and hoped she wasn't.

"Really," Brandon said, leaning forward subtly and staring at her with a curious look. "Anything?"

"Ummm…" Justine paused. "…Yes?"

"That's cool. Well, listen. If you know that girl Kirsten, well we're still friends. Not dating anymore or anything like that. But she's gonna throw a party down by the lake at tonight. It's invite-only, and I'm inviting you. Your friend Taylor can come too if she wants," he said, stealing one more glance at Justine's well-endowed friends before returning his gaze to the nerdy girl before him,

"Oh my god…" Justine blurted. She'd never been invited to a "cool" party before. And the boy's tone of voice let her know it wouldn't be a cake and coca-cola kind of event. "Of course I will come!" she stammered, then shut her mouth tight.

"Great. Once we put the campers to sleep at 10 pm, wait until 11: 30 and then come meet us down by the canoe dock. Everyone else should be asleep by then. See ya there?"

"Of course!" Justine said again, bobbing her head.

"Alight, people. Breakfast time. All counselors and campers report to Community Cabin 1! All counselors report to Community Cabin 1!" they could both hear through the mounted megaphones above. Justine turned to look at Taylor, wondering what she'd have to say about the invitation.

 

[saedo]

Taylor felt quite pleased with herself when she watched Justine walk away from Brandon with a big smile on her face. That strongly suggested that the encounter had gone well. Taylor had been afraid Justine might find a way to screw it up, but apparently all had gone well.

Taylor's satisfaction lasted a few minutes after Justine approached and began filling in the details. His smile was good. A little flirting was good. A party tonight was good.

But an invitation for Taylor to attend? Ugh. Taylor suppressed a grimace at the idea. Justine naturally wanted Taylor to attend to provide emotional support. But Taylor knew about these parties. Though technically forbidden, someone usually managed to sneak in a little alcohol. Combined with the surplus of hormones and lust suffusing the counselors, the place would be a real meat market. Great for someone like Justine, but not so much for Taylor.

"Sure, I'll be glad with you," Taylor responded with a slight trace of woodenness. "But I don't think you'll need me; Brandon seemed pretty eager."

Taylor repressed a sigh. She didn't want to go, but she worried Justine would chicken out if Taylor didn't take her. And if Taylor hoped to have nights where Justine didn't spend an hour complaining about her sore butt, then Taylor had to make sure Justine attended this party.