Date: Tue, 22 Apr 2003 20:57:55 EDT From: KissAndCuddleGem@aol.com Subject: Camping Capers With My Grandpa (Installment 2) This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental. Moreover, none of the actions of the characters in this story is presented with the intent to condone, approve, or sanction their behavior. All questions and/or comments are welcome; and, if you wish to contact me, please feel free to email me at: KissAndCuddleGem@AOL.COM; and I will most definitely respond to email, as appropriate. I was working in the garden, pruning the rosebushes; and while about to lift up a nearby rag that had dropped to the soil, the imagery reminded me of the camping trip, that very first one when Grandpa and I had gone skinny dipping. I was once again deep in reverie soon enough: The Memorial Day holiday weekend arrived with little fanfare. During the few remaining days before it, I spent my spare time worrying about my sexuality. I was especially concerned about how my twelve-year-old-girlfriend, Lucinda Lou, or Lulu, as I loved to call her, would react to my involvement with Grandpa were she to ever somehow find out. "Lulu's back in town!", Grandma Lila chimed at breakfast. "Oh...but she is not supposed to return till June from seeing her sis'....", I interrupted. Grandma looked at me in surprise: "Well, she is back early. I thought you for one would most certainly would be glad about this. Have you been daydreaming again, Kenny?" Well, I certainly had had my mind on other things, and Grandma accurately had picked up on this. "She will be at Aunt Charlotte's with her stepmom for the entire holiday weekend. Aunt Charlotte invited her, thinking of you." I felt unworthy of all of this, though I had to hide that feeling: I knew Grandma could never know about any of that. "That's great, Grandma. Aunt Charlotte is sweet to think of me! I'll call her right away to thank her." I remember making every effort to sound cheerful, chipper, upbeat, my usual perky self. Grandpa had reminded me on the way home from the camping trip that it was important, really important, that all remained normal at least in appearance for the sake of Grandma. But I was human, only human, and I just felt confused and I found myself acting a bit strange: When I would shower, I would lock the bathroom door: This was something I had never, ever done before. I kept thinking that Grandpa would slip in to be with me, and sometimes when I showered this thought gave me a hard-on. Then I felt guilty about that happening that way. Sometimes, as well, when Grandpa and I were alone together in the house I would make myself purposefully scarce or get permission to go over to a friend's house. Then I felt guilty about this, worried about hurting Grandpa, his feelings in some way, and was a bit stressed out over the whole situation. We were all gathered in Aunt Charlotte's backyard soon enough. The barbecue, the highlight of the weekend, was literally filled to the limit with laughter, folly, and spirit; and, as usual, was definitely very much ablaze with lots of smoke and the aroma of everything grilled imaginable wafting through the mid-afternoon air. Lulu looked fantastic, very much refreshed from her trip. She said little to me in between bites of her burger. But every once in a while, she would gaze into my eyes, gently take my hand in hers, and blow softy on my earlobe. In a few minutes, Lulu went inside the house. I recall that Aunt Charlotte had asked Lulu to help her with some crocheting she had been doing earlier. Lulu was quite artistic, very good with crafts even at a very tender age. Suddenly my attention turned to Grandpa. Grandpa had just waded out from the shallow end of the pool and was staring intently at Cousin Jeffie: smiling at him and staring away. Well, all of this certainly rang a bell with me: He had been doing just that with me that very day of the camping trip, that day in the kitchen. "Was he now after Jeffie?", I wondered to myself. Jeffie, though my cousin by blood, was more like a younger brother to me. Just barely past twelve, he was really pretty well-developed for his age and by his own admission was a "gym bunny" obsessed with becoming as muscular as he could be and working out much more than he really should, still growing and all. Jeffie was wearing a brightly-colored burgundy speedo and, soaking wet as now, his dark hair sort of clamped down against his head. His bangs hung seductively in the front; and he sort of looked like a younger version of just about any hispanic pop star that came to mind. He was on the tip of the diving board at the deep end of the pool, his back facing the water, for a somersault dive; and, as his back arched, accentuating his noticeably tanned and rock-hard abs and pecs, Grandpa was taking all of this in, fully absorbed and licking his lips non-stop. "Oh, no!", I thought. I mean I could remember as if it were yesterday a day not that long ago when a really young Jeffie had accidentally fell into the deep end of the very same pool; and I jumped him and saved him from a near-drowning, no adult being around then. Ever since then, we were closer than ever, practically inseparable. I vowed then and there that I would do whatever possible to not let Jeffie fall prey to Grandpa; though. frankly, at that moment, I was totally uncertain as to what, if anything, I could do. The wedding day was approaching for Cousin Georgia. Aunt Charlotte's suggestion was that Grandma spend a weekend with her in June to assist with last-minute details for the wedding. Aunt Charlotte related that he thought it would be much easier for Grandma than driving back and forth, as this was a taxing trip for even someone half her age. Grandpa, overhearing about the planned upcoming stay, reassured Grandma that there would be no need to worry about me then: that he would keep me occupied exploring further the wonders of nature at the woods and the joys of camping in the great outdoors. This made Grandma smile: "Jerry, you know, I think this will be good for you two, I mean Kenny can definitely benefit from some quality bonding time with you. After all, you are like a father to him, the only father he probably even has memory of." Well, we were home before I really had any time to focus on what was ahead. But, back in my room, it sort of struck me that the best way to protect Jeffie would be to go along with things at least insofar as they concerned Grandpa's "camping caper"- plans for us together. Grandpa became really adept with the packing and the taking care of the food and supplies. In fact, to my amazement, he had even recently taken up cooking as an avocation. He loved health-style stuff, oriental stirfries and things on skewers, most of it vegetarian; and was good with Italian cuisine, pastas and heroes. The cooler was stocked with root beer and ice. All was a go within a half hour; and I made sure that Grandpa's brand-new extra-large plaid sleeping bag was securely in place in the backseat just moments before Grandpa revved up the engine to go. Forest Grove, once a sleepaway camp location for emotionally troubled youth, had over time become a national treasure: It was most certainly a well-maintained park with every recreational option there known to man; and a natural beauty that overwhelmed you as if you had just swallowed a swarm of butterflies upon entry. "So, I guess it is just peachy that I lost my virginity here of all places", I mused. Grandpa saw me smiling and winked at me: It felt strange, as his manner now reeked of a blend of school-boy-type charm and brazen lust. His attention felt nice in a way, but I kept thinking: "All right, we have this man-love thing together. I get that, but I still have to save Jeffie...and what about Aunt Charlotte? I mean she is a religious woman, and even without the religion thing, she would just flip out...." We had just returned from skinny-dipping. To save time, as a storm was brewing, Grandpa felt it best that we dry off and change once we were back safely inside the tent. So we sort of scampered back in our towels and mine kept almost slipping off en route, making Grandpa lick his lips and even once half-jokingly call me a "tease". Grandpa removed our towels once the flap to our tent was zipped down. He took out a long freshly-frangranced unused towel from one of our bags and then dried me off, drying my chest, butt, and pubic area in a very slow, sensual manner as if I were some majestic creature to be preserved. Grandpa then took the same towel and hastily dried himself off. But I grabbed the towel back and insisted on drying his back better, saying: "Grandpa, I mean you don't want to get your good shirt all wet." This was a bit funny, to say the least. I knew very well that Grandpa was least likely to be wearing anything or much of anything, let alone bothering with a shirt, while we we were where we were. Grandpa said that he thought the storm would pass quickly. But I had my doubts, there was an unbelievable downpour going on out there; and torrents of rain brushed against the exterior of the tent, sometimes causing it to shake. Grandpa put his hand on my shoulder and said: "Kenny, not to worry, I won't allow any harm to come your way, not ever." Grandpa's tone was most sincere. I nodded to Grandpa; and smiled, my characteristic smile then seeming to comfort him as well. Grandpa suggested that we take a nap, saying that he really was a bit tuckered from all the mayhem at the lake. I, in response, began to head toward my sleeping bag nearer to the rear. Yet, I was stopped, abruptly so: Grandpa was gripping me by my hips; and said that there was much more room in his sack, that we could both unwind better there. I slipped into the roomy bag, allowing Grandpa to position me next to his naked flesh in the way that suited him best. I was nervous; and, Grandpa noticing my shaking, took me in his arms and began to caress my shoulders. Within moments, his left arm was wrapped under and round me and my head was nestled tightly against the left side of his chest, with his nipple standing erect almost right away. Grandpa lovingly stroked my waist and pulled me even closer towards his hairy chest and below-waist area. Just as our cocks were pressing together, Grandpa mumbled under his breath: "Oh, baby, you feel so good, so good, and so soft...." I was really surprised by what followed: Grandpa really did want to sleep, was plumb tuckered in actuality, and^@ as we both drifted off while embracing each other, my thoughts were very much that we were fortunate to have one another and to experience this with each other in this way." This feeling, from then onward, made me view the "camping capers" I shared with Grandpa in a new light, though I would have to come up with something to truly safeguard Jeffie...to protect him from Grandpa. There was lots that happened when we awakened, still in each other's arms in a most passionate embrace, though I had no time to think about that just then, the phone ringing in the kitchen breaking my reverie and Kenny, Jr. needing a ride and help with his homework occuping the remainder of the day.