Camp

by Lev A.C. Rosen

I smile and blow on my nails and shake them in the air, wishing they would dry faster. He leans forward and kisses me again on the lips, then the neck. “Stop,” I say, “my nails are still wet.” “So you’d better not touch me,” he says. “But mine are dry.…” He puts his hand on my chest, then runs it down my stomach, and then he pauses, waiting for me to say something. I don’t, and his hands go farther down in my sleeping bag. I gasp as he starts stroking me. I’m already hard—I have been since the moment I heard him take off his shorts. “This is okay?” he whispers. I nod and kiss him again, then stop to frantically blow on my nails. “Relax,” he says. “They’ll dry.” He unzips my sleeping bag and starts kissing down my neck onto my stomach until his mouth finds what it’s looking for and… oh. First blow job. That’s happening now. I look down and just the sight of Hudson doing what he’s doing is enough to almost make me involuntarily end it prematurely, so I look away. I always thought it would be a bit like what I do in the shower when the cabin is empty, but it’s very different from that. Much better. Should I do something, though? Do I put my hand on his head, or does that mean I want him to go deeper? I don’t want him to do anything he doesn’t want to do, so I carefully lay my hand on his head, like I’m patting a dog. No… this is not how it happens in porn. I grab his hair with both my hands. “Ow,” he says, stopping. “Sorry.” He smiles and goes back to it. I let my hands rest ...