Date: Sun, 5 Aug 2007 20:00:01 -0700 (PDT) From: Hairy Guy Subject: Camp Youngwood part 3 First of all, I'd like to thank those who have responded so positively to parts 1 and 2. Usual disclaimers apply. This part is somewhat brief, and more about talking than doing, but as I strive for authenticity, this is necessary. Its worth noting that I'm basing these stories and conversations loosely on my own experiences in a camp setting not dissimilar to the one I'm portraying. Previously, at Camp Youngwood^Å Sighing deeply, more cum lazily oozed out of the tip of his dick, and Will lay there caressing his softening penis, milking out the last of his boy juice. Lost in his post-orgasmic glow, Will was shocked when he heard. "Dude, that was amazing! Did it feel as good as it sounded?" Camp Youngwood, Part 3: Comparing Notes Ben lay on his bunk, softly running his fingers through the watery semen cooling on his groin. He always loved the moments after cumming, the relaxed feeling he got all over, the peace that followed the intensity of release. He had been shocked, though, when he heard the noise coming from Will's bunk after he had finished. The familiar gasping and creaking of the bed had given Will away, and Ben knew he had caught Will engaging in the same pleasure he had just indulged in. But had Will caught Ben? There was only one way to find out. "Dude, that was amazing! Did it feel as good as it sounded?" "Ben? Is that you?" Will whispered quietly into the dark of the cabin. "Yeah," Ben replied. "Were you just doing what I think you were?" asked Will. "The same thing you were, I believe" answered Ben. "I heard you finish. It feels good doesn't it?" "It was awesome! I normally do it, like, twice a day, and haven't done it since Saturday. When I heard you doing it, I couldn't stop myself." Will shifted a bit on his bunk, trying to make out the form of Ben in the dim moonlight. "How often do you do it?" "I dunno, like once a day usually. Sometimes I do it more^Å.just whenever I'm horny, I guess. I thought everyone was asleep, and I had a boner, so^Å." Ben left the thought unfinished. Will knew what he meant. "How do you do it?" inquired Will. "I, like, grab it in my fist and stroke up and down^ÅI usually swirl around the head when that stuff starts to come out^Å" "Dude, I know what you mean. The head feels so awesome when you stroke it! I hold it between my thumb and two fingers. When I start to leak, I rub it all over just below the head, it feels sweet." Ben could not believe he was sharing these details with Will (or that Will was sharing with him), but he also thought it was kind of cool. He'd never talked to anyone about jacking off, certainly not how and how often he did it. Talking about it was kind of^Åliberating, and, truth be told, he found it kind of arousing. His dick was beginning to stiffen a bit as he talked with Will. He thought back to this morning, when Will had gotten out of bed. Will had seemed to have a small tent like the one he and Dan had sported, except it pointed more "up" and less "out." Ben found himself wondering if Will, too was getting hard from their chat. His thoughts were interrupted, though, by movement from Will's bunk. Glancing over, he saw Will's hand moving around near his stomach. "Wiping up?" Ben asked. "Yeah, before it gets dry and sticks to my skin" responded Will. "I know what you mean^×I hate it when that happens." "Have you cleaned up yet?" Will queried. "Nah. I'm too lazy to grab my washcloth." "Dude, don't you need that for showers?" "No, I have one I use just for this," Ben replied. "Ugh! Do you make your Mom wash it?" "No way! I just throw them out after a week or so. Mom just thinks they get lost in the wash. What do you use?" Ben wanted to know. "I usually just use toilet paper. I grab some when I'm brushing my teeth before bed. Tonight I had to use a sock. Didn't plan ahead well enough." Ben giggled at Will's confession. "I suppose I should clean up before Jason gets back." "Yeah, it'd suck to have him come in and not be able to clean up." "Do you think Jason jacks it?" Ben asked as he reached into a pocket on his duffel bag where he put his washcloth. "He has his own room! I bet he does it every night." "Well, not every night," came a deep voice from the screen door of the cabin.