Monday after lunch of the second week, we got into comic books again when a junior girl was trying to make a Black Widow logo/belt buckle. Wendy, I, and most of the campers in the hut got into a spirited discussion of how it should look. It was fun in general, and particularly so because Wendy kept bending over the table to sketch her arguments out.
When the period was over, I asked her enthusiastically, “So, do you like comic books in general or just Batman and Superman?”
Wendy smiled and replied that she was Team DC, but the Marvel movies were fun. “But I have bad news for you,” she said playfully.
“Oh no!” I smiled.
“The Packers suck ass. Cowboys all the way!”
Uh. Oh.
I wasn’t crushed that she liked another team, but that she brought that subject up in this context was…
Wendy laughed at my alarmed expression. “Oh calm down. You look hilarious,” she said, still smiling good-naturedly. “You had to have known that Elaine and I have been friends for years, right? Girls talk.”
My shoulders slumped. “Hey, we can get along, right?” I asked, implored really. “I mean, we have the rest of the session working together…”
“Easy, Casper,” Wendy said, actually laying a hand reassuringly on my forearm for just an instant. “Elaine has hardly been running you down or poisoning my opinion of you.” She grinned. “In fact, she is mostly pretty complimentary.”
“Complimentary? She just dumped me!” I exclaimed, old wounds melding with fresh anxiety.
“Yes,” she said firmly. “I mean sure, you bored her way too much with the comics and the football, but beyond that…” Wendy went on. She turned away from me, clasping her hands together behind herself, resting on her yummy ass. She looked back over her shoulder with a suddenly impish smile as she took a step away, “Beyond that, she was really, really, complimentary.”
I gulped. “Wait. You mean she…”
“I told you. Girls talk. I have to say, it was interesting.”
Well, things were suddenly looking up. I stepped after her. “How interesting?” I asked, my voice reflecting my suddenly renewed confidence.
Wendy turned toward me and held up a hand. “Hold on! You should know, I am not looking for a camp boyfriend of my own.”
Damn.
She grinned. “I would be interested in an occasional, high-quality dicking however, if I can find the right supplier.”
I stared at her, then I almost croaked, “Um, do you have an application I can fill out?”
That got an outright laugh. “I don’t think that will be necessary. If you want the position, it is yours. Elaine was extremely complimentary.”
After the last period, when our last batch of freshmen boys and girls had left, Wendy and I were doing a quick cleanup before heading out ourselves. As the chattering voices of the kids faded away, I noticed how quiet it got.
“You know,” I mused, “for a place so close to the chow hall, this little building is pretty out of the way…”
Wendy looked up at me with a raised eyebrow. She actually put down her rag and walked out to the front of the hut. While the hut was only a hundred yards or so from the chow hall, it was turned away from the rest of the camp to afford a view of one of the small streams that fed the swimming pond. This stream was narrow enough to jump over, but it was pretty, so the building was pointed toward it. On the other side of the stream was just deep woods. A path ran up from one side of the cabin, between it and the stream, and then back around the other side. But in reality, we were on an effective dead end.
Bob, you magnificent bastard.
Wendy looked back and forth out front of the cabin, then turned back to walk toward me. She stopped nearby, leaning forward against a bench between us, hunching her shoulders forward so that her scoop-necked t-shirt showed off the maximum cleavage. “You are right, Casper! No one is going to set foot on that path before tomorrow morning but us.”
My eyes were locked onto the featured view before me, and I took an involuntary step toward her.
Her nostrils flared for a moment, but she laughed, straightened and said, “Hold on there! I didn’t mean today! I have to finish here and go run change into my swimsuit. I’ve got Swim Duty this evening.”
Swimming was perhaps the favorite activity at camp, and certainly the most universally enjoyed. It got hot in the summer. Swimming and diving were regular activities, like Riflery, Rock Climbing, Ceramics, and Kayaking, that went on each period all day. But starting half an hour after last period, from five to six in the afternoon, there was swim time in the pond. Every counselor at Camp Dickinger is a certified lifeguard, and a little more than half of us are assigned to be on Swim Duty each evening, Monday through Friday. And even when we weren’t on lifeguard duty, we all usually showed up, cooled off, and had fun just swimming with the crowd.
I nodded in agreement. “I actually have duty this afternoon, too. I haven’t bothered to look at my duty schedule going forward, have you?” She shook her head. Under most circumstances, no one cared. You went to the pond regardless, you didn’t really need to know if you were lifeguarding, or just having fun until you got there. I only ever looked at my schedule if I need to take time to write letters to kids’ parents. But Wendy and I wordlessly both realized that if we found an evening where we both were off on the same day…
I stared at Wendy hungrily. If we had a day where we were both off, that would mean an hour and a half of potential privacy with this amazing girl.
Tuesday, I showed up a little early, puzzled but excited. My duty schedule was like nothing I had seen before. Wendy actually beat me there, and before I could speak, she said, “My duty schedule is weird.”
My immediate thought was that if hers was weird in a similar way to my own, it would be either awesome or disastrous. “Mine is too,” I replied. “My lifeguard schedule has always been random as hell from week to week, but this session it is the same every week: Monday, Tuesday, Thursday.”
Wendy’s eyes widened. “That is the same for me! What the fuck?”
Bob, you sneaky, magnificent bastard. You are my favorite human being.
“Bob usually does the swim schedule, doesn’t he?” I observed idly. “I’ll bet he just got lazy and did some of us in a regular pattern. That has to be easier.”
“We,” said Wendy, her eyes bright, “are going to have a lot of privacy.”
The rest of Tuesday, knowing we both had to go be lifeguards at the end of the day was torture for me. And Wendy was enjoying making it even more torturous. She was definitely a member of the Uniform a Size Too Small Brigade all the time, but on that day, I am dead certain that she borrowed her cabin-mate’s shirt. It pulled crazy tight, and the scoop neck collar tugged deliciously low. She had clearly made it her mission to torture me that day.
Second period in the morning was all girls, with two-thirds of the signups being Seniors. A couple of the older girls were damned cute themselves, which made it easier to keep my eyes off Wendy, but it made my overall horniness worse. Usually, I can ignore the sometimes outrageously displayed charms of the girl worms, but Wendy had me worked up already by that point.