Tying Knots

I first got involved with the Boy Scouts in my mid-twenties when my son joined the group. Even when he got too old I still stayed with the group, especially teaching knot-tying to the younger boys at day camp.

It had been a long day of teaching campers basic knots. I was on my feet all day and spent the biggest part of the day bent over as I guided little hands through the motions, over and over again. And it was HOT. The temperatures were in the upper 90's, lower 100's. I kept a wet bandana around my neck, using it to wipe my face now and again, fanning my face with it to break some of the heat.

Today was the last day of camp, so I needed to stay late and start breaking down my area. All of my aides were younger - if they weren't camper age themselves, they had children in the camp program, so I told them to go ahead. I'd close up the area as much as I could tonight, then return tomorrow to finish the job.

Dusk was falling; I was enjoying the break from the heat as I heard the last few cars full of campers pull out of the State Park, where our day camp was held. Knots was taught under a dining canopy back in the woods a little ways. I had an old picnic table where my supplies were kept, and hay bales off to the side where the kids sat as they struggled to make the "rabbit go around the tree and back in the hole."

Suddenly I heard footsteps on the path leading to the shelter. With a start I realized that the camp was probably empty, except for me.

I looked up to see a handsome young man in a Scout Leader uniform coming into the clearing. He looked somewhat familiar, but I had been doing this for almost 10 years - I think I'd met nearly everyone in the program at least once. He strode purposefully to my shelter.

"I'm sorry to bother you," he started, "but we're getting ready to close up camp. I realized your car was still in the lot, so I thought I'd check on you." He smiled at me, and then I knew who he was - a young man who'd been in Scouts with my son all those years ago.

"You're Scott, right?" I asked as I rose from my table and started closing the box I'd been working on.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied. "I'm surprised you remember me."

"Oh, hon, you're a hard one to forget; you were always there to help me out. How are you?" Then, noticing his uniform again I commented, "Heavens! Don't tell me you're old enough to be a Scout Master!"

He blushed and stepped forward to help me stack the last box beside the others. "Yes, ma'am, I am - I turned twenty-three last week." He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "You know, you taught me nearly everything I know about knots."

"Nearly?" I teased.

"Yup." He turned and grabbed one of the lengths of rope we used to demonstrate. "But I know one that you won't know."

"Oh, really?" I asked. I never could resist a challenge. "Show me."

"I need you to put out your arms," he said. He started wrapping the rope quickly, I couldn't keep my eyes on what he was doing. "I learned this one while in the army," he said, "MP," he added before I could ask what his job was.

Suddenly he backed me against a nearby tree and raised my arms above my head. "What are you doing, Scott?" I asked, alarmed.

His eyes gleamed as he looped the rope on a branch above my head. "What I've been dreaming of doing for years," he replied. I opened my mouth to shout, to somehow get someone's attention. He pulled the bandana from around my neck and fashioned a quick gag.

"Not that anyone's around to hear you," he said. "I told the others they could go while I reminded you of the time."

He backed away and looked at me for a moment. "I don't want to hurt you, Lou," he said quietly. "Do you remember the day I told you I loved you?"

My mind went back to that day, nearly 10 years before. "I love you, Mrs. B." he'd said. I'd kind of laughed it off, it was the sort of thing a boy said.

"You'll find a girl your own age to love," I'd replied. "You'll see that they're more interesting than an old stick like me."

I'd seen the hurt in his eyes, but knew better than to encourage him. Now I was going to find out what that little boy had grown into.

"I tried girls my own age, you know," he said quietly, seeing that I did remember my own words that day. "I started that summer, trying to find one that I loved as much as I did you. But none of them - NONE of them - were as pretty, or as smart, or as wonderful as you." He moved closer and stroked my hair. "And when I grew older, I'd be fucking a girl, I'd look at her and all I could see was you. I decided I'd have to get real good at it, so when I finally had you, you wouldn't want an older guy."

He looked me in the eye as he ran his hands up my sides. "I'm glad you're wearing a button-down shirt," he said quietly and with a quick yank he pulled my shirt open, popping buttons. He stepped back and looked at me. "I'm going to have to do something about that bra," he said as he pulled his knife out of his pocket. In moments my breasts were hanging loose, my bra in tatters. I think the sight of his knife cutting through it turned him on, because he then used the knife to cut away my shirt.

He put the knife back in his pocket, the other hand coming up to cup my right breast. He groaned softly and bent his head to suck on my nipple. His other hand moved to my left breast and teased my nipple.

I couldn't help myself, I could feel my body respond. This was the type of thing I had fantasized about for years, being totally helpless while a man ravaged my body. I couldn't believe that he would hurt me. I moaned behind my gag.

At the sound he raised his head. "You're liking this, aren't you?" he asked. I couldn't look away from the intense look in his eye. I didn't want to, but I nodded.

"Good," he said with satisfaction and lowered his head to my nipple once more. His other hand left my breast and slid down to the waistband of my shorts. I whimpered as he easily undid the button and zipper and slid the material over my ass and down my legs.

He slid his hand inside my underpants, his fingers sliding into my slit. I began to tremble as he slid one finger inside me, then pulled his hand back up so he could massage my clit.

"Oooh, yeah," he said with a growl. "I like that."

He knelt before me and pulled my panties down. Putting his hands on my ass, he pulled my pussy to his mouth. He used his tongue on me, licking my clit with short, fast strokes. I closed my eyes. I couldn't stop him. I didn't want to stop him.

He squeezed my ass cheeks as he teased my pussy with his mouth, sucking, licking, stroking. He slipped his fingers inside of me, fucking me with his hand. I was moaning now, thrusting my hips toward his face, wanting more of him inside of me.

Scott shifted his weight; I looked down to see what he was doing. He had pulled his cock out of his pants and was stroking himself with his other hand. I gasped at the size of it, and knew I wanted it inside of me. I was shocked at my reaction, but I needed that dick and I needed it now!

I started whimpering, struggling with the need to cum, the need to have him inside me. He looked up.

"Do you want it?" he asked, indicating his cock with a small smile. I nodded, begging him with my eyes.

He stood up and stroked my throbbing clit with the head of his cock, teasing me with it.

"Is this what you want?" he whispered, pushing it forward so he stopped, right at the edge of entering me. I thrust my hips forward, trying to take him inside me, but he pulled back. "I need to hear you say it," he said, his hand pulling the bandana from between my lips.

"Oh, God, Scott, please!" I begged. "Fuck me; fuck me now!"

He grabbed me roughly and kissed me, his tongue entered my mouth. I sucked his tongue, kissed him desperately.

He turned me around and bent me over as far as the rope would allow and started rubbing my clit with one hand. He rubbed his cock down the crack of my ass, teasing my anus with it, gently pushing as though he was going to enter. It felt so good I moaned.

The sound of my moan without the bandana to muffle it made him shudder. He slid his cock down to my pussy and with one swift motion, he entered me.

It was as though a shaft of lightning entered my body. I tingled all over. Nothing existed except that wonderful, glorious dick pounding away at my pussy. I could hear him panting and grunting behind me, and hoped it felt as good for him as it did for me. I could feel his balls banging into my legs as he thrust into me, harder and faster.

"I'm gonna cum!" he cried hoarsely. "Feel me, cum with me!" he groaned.

"Cum inside me, Scott, let me feel you cum," I answered, my voice nearly a scream. "I'm cumming with you!"

At my words he thrust so deep it felt he was splitting me in two. With a hoarse yell he came, his dick throbbing inside me. I came at almost the same moment; my body felt like I was bathed in flames. For a moment I thought I was going to faint from my orgasm. I'd never cum so hard in my life.

Scott reached up and pulled the rope loose from the branch and held me close. I whimpered as his dick pulled from me, our cum dribbling out behind it.

He kissed me again, softer this time, gently. He worked at the rope, untying my hands, then he removed his shirt and wrapped it around me. I watched him as he used the rags left from my shirt to wipe between my legs. He placed a kiss on my pussy just before he pulled up my shorts.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," he said quietly. "But I'm not really sorry it did."

He reached into his pocket, pulled out his cellphone and handed it to me. "Here," he said, not looking at me. "Call the police. I'll be waiting for them in the parking lot."

I looked at the phone dumbly. "What do you mean, Scott?"

"I forced you," he said. "There's no excuse for that." He turned and headed back down the path.