Secrets Revealed Pt. I Ch. 02

"I was just thinking what it would sound like if anyone walked by the window about now," I said between gasps.

"So you think this is funny, do you?" she said as she squeezed her pussy muscles.

I was surprised that she knew that technique.

"No, ma'am," I said with sudden serious. Taking a deep breath, "That feels so good."

"That's right, call me ma'am. I am a woman now."

"I have no doubt," I told her.

I reached out to her and found two warm soft breasts to hold onto.

"That feels so good," she sighed.

She moaned as I softly pinched her nipples. She leaned a little forward and rocked back and forth on me. We stayed in that position the whole time. I felt her pussy tighten around my shaft and her breathing quickened as she came, but she was otherwise silent.

When it was my turn, I slid my hands from her breasts over her stomach to her waist and pulled her down hard as I thrust up into her.

She said, "Ohhh," as she felt me filling the condom.

When I was finished, she wriggled her bottom. I tried to pull her down onto me so I could kiss her, but she stopped me. In the authoritative tone she had used earlier, she continued her lecture.

"Be sure to hold onto the rim of the condom and remove it without spilling any of the contents before the dick becomes flaccid."

"Or what happens?" I asked.

"Or you may become pregnant," she answered, her tone softer.

She lifted off me and removed the condom. She tossed it but the sound it made when it hit told us she wasn't even close to the trashcan.

"Oops," she giggled.

We snuggled against each other. She asked me how it was for me and I told her the truth—it was wonderful. I was concerned that she might be sore but she assured me that it didn't hurt anymore. We were so close that I could feel her warm breath on my face as she spoke.

"What made you decide this was the right time?" I asked my lovely girlfriend.

"Abby talked to me about it. I was scared at first of it hurting but she reassured me."

Patrice thought quietly for a moment.

"And, I wanted our first time to be here, in a real bed. Before we take that canoe trip in a few weeks."

I had held the same concerns but didn't want to voice them.

"This feels so nice," Patrice said as she ran her hand across my chest and slid a leg along mine. Her hand moved down to my now soft dick. "I only hope I can be quiet in a tent," she mused.

"I don't think anyone will mind if they hear us. The other couples will be doing the same thing."

The conversation drifted like that. The time between sentences dragged out until I heard Patrice's breathing deepen. She was asleep again. I must have joined her a few minutes later.

The next thing I knew, it was light in the room. Patrice's body was still wrapped around mine. The warmth of her body was a delight that I savored.

Patrice stirred. Her eyelids fluttered and opened. She looked at the wall before turning to me and smiling brightly.

"Good morning," she said slowly.

"Very good," I agreed.

Patrice seemed to be thinking intently about something. She shifted away from me and rolled to her back. She opened her legs and put her right hand between them. I watched silently as she gently inserted her index finger. It went into her pussy just to the first joint and stopped. Then she pushed it in to the knuckle.

Patrice pulled her finger out. My cock stirred as I saw how wet the finger was.

"You were watching me?" she asked shyly.

"Yes. I couldn't help it. That was so sexy," I answered.

"I wanted to check out if it felt different."

"Did it?"

"Yes," she said. "I can feel the difference. It's changed. It's... bigger, I guess," she explained. "More open."

"Thank you for giving that to me," I said, almost reverently.

"Thank you for being my first," she countered.

"My pleasure."

"What time do you think it is?" she asked.

"I don't know. Maybe six, six-thirty."

"Good. We still have time," she said.

"Time for what?" I asked.

Patrice sighed and rolled on top of me with her hand between us holding my dick.

"Time for us to do it again,... and take another shower together,... before we have to go to Natchitoches," she explained.

"Then I guess we need another condom," I observed.

"I guess we do," she said.

She started to sit up but then stopped.

"I guess I'm a lot more sore inside than I thought," she said sadly. "I wanted to do it again when I could see what it looked like," she said. "I'm sorry. I hurt too much to do it again."

"It's really alright," I assured her. "Sure, I'd love to do it with you again," I said with a smile. "We'll have many other times to do it."

I pulled her back to me and kissed her. She smiled but it looked like she was starting to cry.

"It's really okay," I said.

She nodded, sad but happy.

I got out of bed and picked up the condom that had landed on the floor during the night. There was a small puddle around it.

"Here," Patrice said, grabbing a towel and tossing it to me. I cleaned up the mess we had made. When I stood, Patrice held out a hand to me. I took her hand and she pulled herself up slowly. Turning around, she looked down and saw the stain on the sheet.

"Oh, shit, that was from me, wasn't it?" she asked rhetorically.

"Yes, but don't worry about it. I'll change the sheets and take them to the laundry. It won't be the first time a counselor sent a bloody sheet to be washed. It's not even that big a stain."

"But it's embarrassing," Patrice said. "For the girl. I mean, everybody will know what we did last night."

"Hon, I can guarantee you that we were not the only people in this camp last night having sex. What do you think everybody does on the two nights a week we have off?"

She seemed to be thinking about that.

"I guess I screamed kind of loud, too," she said, blushing.

"You don't remember, do you?" I asked. She shook her head. "I kissed you just as I entered you and muffled your scream. Nobody heard you," I assured her.

She pulled me to her and we hugged.

"This feels so good," she moaned as our bodies met.

"You've said that before already," I admonished her.

"But it's true. It all feels so good."

As Patrice said that, her hands slid down my back and over my butt, eliciting a slight jump from my cock. Her eyes widened as she felt that.

"Like that, don't you? I wish we could do it again, but we promised Abby, and..."

"I know. We have this afternoon and tonight. And,..." I said.

"And?" she asked.

"And,... I'm sure Abby is dying to hear how last night went." I finished smugly.

"Girls don't talk about that," Patrice assured me.

I raised an eyebrow in question. Patrice tried valiantly to stand her ground but crumbled after a minute.

"Okay, maybe we do talk about that, but we don't brag. Not like guys do."

"Who said I'm going to tell anybody what we did?"

"I meant in general. I know you're not like most guys," Patrice told me.

She slid an arm up to my neck and pulled me down to a kiss.

When our lips parted, she continued with, "Now take me to the shower before I pull you back into bed and make you screw me again."

"Promise?" I asked.

She made a cute face.

"Okay, later," I said and, taking her by the hand, led her in the direction of the shower. She walked funny and I tried not to notice.

Patrice froze as we stepped into the main room.

"The shades are up. People can see us."

I went back into my room and grabbed my last clean towel. I wrapped it around both of us.

"Better?" I asked.

"It doesn't cover what we're doing but it gives me a little modesty," she told me.

I kissed her near her ear, making her moan again, and we shuffled off to the shower.

The morning shower wasn't nearly as sexually charged as the one the night before. She was a lot more outgoing, though, now that she was more familiar with my body. I asked her if she was sore and she assured me she wasn't. We played a little as we cleaned up each other.

By the time we got dressed and made our way to the dining hall, it was almost eight o'clock. I enjoyed watching Patrice dress, knowing I was going to be undressing her again later.

When we entered the interior of the dining hall, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim interior. Abby was already at our usual weekend table, waving to us and smiling. Okay, she was grinning broadly. I looked to my side and saw Patrice blushing mightily. She hung her head down and moved quickly to the table, sitting across from Abby. I joined her.

I could see that Abby could barely contain herself, but she was trying. Making a point to study both of our faces, she finally spoke. She blushed as she said it, though.

"Well, if clichés are to be believed, Patrice, you positively glow and Tim looks like he didn't get quite as much sleep as he usually does."

Patrice reached across the table to playfully slap at Abby's hand.

"Stop it! You can't really tell that," she said, trying not to laugh or blush but not really succeeding.

Abby was still grinning but she was at least speaking in a hushed tone for Patrice's benefit.

"And, hon, you're walking funny. So, how was it?" she asked.

It surprised me that Patrice seemed to lose her earlier shyness and shame.

"It was wonderful," she said, a little louder than she intended.

When she saw a few guys at one of the other tables look up at her words, she blushed even brighter (which I didn't think was possible) and covered her face with her hands.

"Itold you," Abby said. Then, looking to me, she pointedly asked, "Tim, why don't you go get your plates so Patrice and I can talk?"

I nodded, kissed Patrice on the cheek, and stood up. While I was getting our two trays, I surreptitiously glanced over to our table. Patrice and Abby were deep in serious conversation. Abby was like a mother to Patrice. Well, maybe more like a big sister. She genuinely cared about her friend. Abby wasn't confident enough to talk about sex around me, but I was glad she was talking with Patrice about it. I hoped Trip was as nice a guy as she told us. She certainly deserved it.

By the time I made it back to the table, the girls were finished with the serious part of their talk, or they cut it short when they saw me returning. Just before I reached the table, I bumped into...

* * * * *

A tree.

My wife was laughing in spite of her concern for me.

"Are you alright, Tim?" she asked.

"Huh? What?" I responded in a dumbfounded manner.

"You were really out of it. You were smiling and looking kind of dreamy. Then when you got to that tree, you walked right into it. What were you thinking about? An old girlfriend, perhaps?" my wife asked.

I immediately felt panic grip me.

"No, not really," I tried to hedge.

The look on my wife's face showed she didn't buy it. I quickly thought of a solution. I changed the subject.

"Where's Laura?" I asked.

That caught my wife off guard. She looked around for a moment before pointing to my daughter out in the sunshine. She was skipping back towards us and pointing to the sky.

"Look, Daddy, a plane!" she was saying.

* * * * *

"Yes, a plane," Abby said. "His friend, Paul, is a pilot."

To be continued inChapter 3

This story is Copyright © 2006 by Strickland83. All rights reserved.

Abby appears courtesy of Nick Scipio. The Summer Camp characters and universe are

Copyright © 2002-2006 Nick Scipio.