Date: Wed, 21 Nov 2018 19:10:10 +0000 (UTC) From: brad rent Subject: Chapter 18 of "Wilson Goes to Camp" This is a fictional story of one man's entry into orbit about his penis. It's called "Wilson Goes to Camp and will probably end up at about 25 chapters or so, even though I've only written 18 so far (sorry, this number keeps changing—this story is sort of writing itself!) I cum multiple times while writing each chapter! The pages are probably still a little sticky--sorry. I invite feedback at brad_rent@yahoo.com. Please make a contribution to Nifty.org to make sure these and other stories keep being published—and I get to keep cumming! Chapter 18- Day 2 Begins! It didn't take long to drop off to sleep! But, believe it or not, I almost had a wet dream late that night... I guess I'd been so aroused by all the hot stories and experiences of day one that my libido was at a fever pitch and just wouldn't settle down while I slept. I don't remember much from the dream that almost made me sperm my sheets, but I remember that my dad and my six-year-old self were pissing in the same toilet. I was fascinated watching his massive penis right next to my face as urine spurted out of the tip. He caught me staring and laughed, saying something like `yours will get big like this someday, too.' I remember blushing and getting hard at the same time. I was having trouble bending mine down to get the pee to go into the toilet and he laughed again. After he shook off the last drops, he pulled out his balls and left his massive genitals hanging out. He asked if I wanted to feel them. I don't remember saying anything, but I remember being amazed at how much bigger his penis got when I handled it, first feeling its smoothness and heat, then squeezing the fat, hard shaft and pawing his hairy balls. In my dream, he took over from my pawing his dick and gently moved both my hands down to cradle his enormous, hairy balls—at least they were enormous to my six-year-old self. Watching him jack his distended penis had me completely mesmerized. In the dream, I watched him move the loose skin up and over the tip time and again. Each pull of that loose skin also moved his scrotum up and down as I cradled their hot mass in my little boy hands. The moment I almost came in my bed was when I saw his sperm gush out in long ropes from the gaping piss-hole, then arc down into the toilet. Each splash left spidery, white lacy `jellyfish' in the yellow water of the toilet bowl. I wondered if my bowl of egg-drop soup from dinner last night triggered the whole thing. I have no memory of anything like that ever actually happening when growing up, but it sure seemed real in my dream. For some time after it woke me up, I wondered what latent erotic desires I wasn't even aware of that might be swimming around in my 16-year-old brain; eventually I fell back into a deep, dreamless sleep. Day two began just like day one with each of us cleaning ourselves out and showering before breakfast. As usual, this routine brought nearly every penis to attention—the open shower room displayed twelve soapy hard-ons before the morning rituals were over and we headed for the dining hall. I guess I wasn't the only one that enjoyed sticking things up my butt each morning! I didn't see anybody cum, though, a testament to the quarts of jizz we'd all sprayed around camp on day one. On our way to breakfast, waddling across the grass following Clay like a flock of ducklings—ducklings with boners, that is—Clay told us that we were free to explore any of the sports venues that we wanted to that morning; our only commitment started after lunch... he wouldn't tell us what exactly that was, but he warned us to "save a load or two for the afternoon—you'll probably want to participate when we got there." Tristan and I exchanged glances, both wondering what Clay had in store that afternoon for this randy group of campers. "What do you feel like doing at the gym," Tristan asked. "I guess I don't really care," I replied munching on some scrambled eggs, adding, "I know that before the week's out, I want to make sure we do some tag-team wrestling and lift some weights of course, and maybe swim some laps, but none of it has to be today necessarily... what about you? "I want to do all that stuff, too, but I want to wait for our wrestling adventure until after we're a little more familiar with the other guys in the cabin—I want to be able to `pick our targets' if you know what I mean—I think that's going to turn into a way hotter thing than anything else we've done so far and I want to make sure it's with the `right' opponents," he said, then added, "Maybe we can coerce Clay to be on the other team ; we can both fuck him this time." Har Har. "Let's just start with some weight lifting; maybe after, we can wander into the gym and watch some other guys wrestle... if we get lucky, we might see that Olympian dude wrestle again... maybe this time he'll `do' Matt—that'd be a hot match!" I offered to an enthusiastic nod from Tristan. After breakfast, he decided for us and told the rest of the cabin that we were going to go lift weights; anyone that wanted to was welcome to come along. Brandon, the well-hung black guy who cock-drooled on Clay's shoulder last night said he'd like to join us as well; also Dennis and a couple of other guys came too. When we arrived, there were just a few others using the various free weights and machines. Lined up against the wall were treadmills and stationary bikes. There were ample small towels in piles around the room as well as spray bottles of 409 or something. Friendly signs were posted everywhere asking everyone to keep the equipment clean. Some of the signs were kind of funny, like a stick finger guy—one particularly well hung after the addition of some graffiti artist's embellishment—climbing off a stationary bike with squiggly odor lines rising from the recently vacated seat. We moved to the end of the room where the series of mats were arranged on the floor—obviously there for people to use to stretch and/or warm up before lifting. Sitting on towels, the group of us began stretching out our legs before we started anything strenuous. I loved the spectacle of half a dozen young, fit naked men spreading their legs wide to get a good stretch... I got good looks at their semi-hard cocks, tight nut-sacks and hard chods. When they leaned back to get a good stretch on their quads, I even got clear looks at many winking anuses (ani?). Watching naked guys do pushups with semi- or full erections was also quite a thrill. I noticed I wasn't the only one looking around, too—or the only one that was getting horny at the `show' of beautiful, young man flesh writhing around on the mats; all on towels, of course. We sure weren't going to leave any squiggly odor lines when we were through! It had been awhile since football season and I hadn't lifted much in all that time. I knew to take it easy today or else I'd be pretty sore tomorrow. Some of the other guys were there to show off and started lifting too-heavy weights too soon. It made for marvelous sight-seeing, especially bench pressing with wide-spread legs and spotters with boners directly over grunting, red faces. Watching Tristan and Brandon jogging on treadmills was also very erotic. Both were having to take it easy... certain speeds got their hooters slapping up and down against their hard stomachs—which wasn't the problem... the down-stroke had those semi-turgid sausages squishing down against their heavy, flopping balls. Both got off after only a few yards—too painful, I guess... maybe next time a jock strap or speedo might be in order, at least for that part of the workout. I lifted a few hand weights, doing curls, front and side arm raises and, bending over with one knee on a bench, tricep raises. I looked `down under,' between my legs during the one of my tricep raises and saw Brandon sitting on a mat straight behind me--ostensibly having just finished some sit-ups—gazing straight up between my legs at my chod and ass-hole... I knew he couldn't see my cock because it was fully erect and plastered up against my abs. "Like what you see?" I called out, peeking down between my legs at his surprised face—`man-in-the-moon' style. "Let me change sides for you... maybe the view will improve," I joked, switching legs and moving the weight to my other hand. Not missing a beat, he replied, "It'd be hard to improve this view, man... I love looking at a nice butt—made even hotter with a fat set of hairless balls hanging down below. Could you stay there for about ten minutes more while I work a load out here? We both laughed and I wandered over to ask him more about his background. I asked him more about his growing up, but just as he was beginning to tell me about his early years, we noticed a half dozen or more campers enter the gym. He stopped in mid-sentence since this group looked so different from the rest of the boys in the gym. They stood out because most of them were wearing gym shorts or boxer-style underwear; some even had t-shirts on. Maybe they're cold—they could be from Florida, I thought. "I wonder if they learned their lesson on the treadmills," Brandon asked holding his balls and painfully remembering his hefty cock bashing them with every step as he tried to run naked. "I don't think those gym shorts or boxers are gonna provide much control over a big swinging dick on the treadmills," I replied, "especially one as hefty as yours." The new arrivals were becoming self-conscious since everyone else in the weight room was nude. However, that didn't deter them from grabbing towels and warming up on the mat like the rest of us had earlier. Just then I noticed my step-brother, Brian, enter the room, naked as the rest of us. I pointed him out to Brandon, not knowing if he'd seen him when he visited our cabin the first night. Brandon acknowledged that he'd spied him when he visited and that somebody—probably Tristan or Clay—told him he was my older step-brother and one of the counselors. At first Brian didn't see me; I watched as he carefully watched the guys in shorts getting settled on various pieces of equipment. Before long, he spied me and Brandon and came over with a big grin on his face. "Hey, bro... Clay said I'd find you over here... I see you're pretty excited about seeing guys in their gym shorts," pointing at my half-hard dick. "Hey, bro... same back atya—that's one hefty boner you've got there too... actually, I'm getting hard from watching other guys in here doing things I never thought much about—there's something about everybody doing this stretching stuff naked that's boning me up... what brings you over today; you reffing a wrestling match this morning? "Actually that's exactly what I'm doing... Mr. Cooper is pretty smart when it comes to bringing some of the boys out of their shell—like those guys. Every year, we get some guys that come to camp because their dads want them to learn to accept their own bodies but they haven't been able to `break out' yet. It's not exactly a 12-step process or anything, but over the years, the director has learned what helps these boys become more comfortable showing their bodies and sharing themselves with others. For example, in that group over there we have sort of a spectrum of campers. On one end, there are two or three that masturbated with Mr. Cooper on Skype before coming to camp, but did it with their clothes on, only bringing out their penis—and keeping it concealed usually—during the whole interview. That's not ordinarily allowed, but Mr. Cooper interviewed their dads first and learned of their reluctance—obviously the dads attended bate camp as teenagers and know what a couple of weeks here can do for their own sons. Their interviews were held a bit differently from most, obviously. "On the other end of that spectrum are the more intensely uptight ones who never took the bait during the interview; while they may have been aroused, they didn't quite get to where they would masturbate or even talk easily about masturbating. Anyway, Mr. Cooper has learned over the years that there are right and wrong ways to guide the interview... for example, he usually starts out fully clothed; only when he senses the boy is beginning to get aroused, he progresses with subtle things that encourage the boys to mimic him—maybe a squeeze of his package or pinch on a nipple or whatever; he's a pro that eventually gets the boy on board, first squeezing their hard-on through their pants or even masturbating with him, and eventually they talk about coming to camp. Once he agrees to come, he gets tagged as a boy that needs special treatment... I'm here as part of that special treatment; I'd like you to help, if you don't mind. I guess in the past, they used to integrate these shyer guys by spreading them around in the various cabins, but he found that having the shy ones integrated into the bolder group of masturbators like you guys often had the opposite effect. If they didn't leave red-faced early, they left camp even more sexually repressed—and probably mad at their dads. Years ago, Mr. Cooper consulted with some child psychologists—also former campers who understood the purpose and value of bate camp; they developed a program where he tries to bring them around... they start out in a special group of like-minded guys to get support and encouragement from each other to become more comfortable first naked, then masturbating with others... by about the third day, they're sharing each other's bodies and in some cases become raging baters—like the rest of us! You'll notice here on day two, they're still pretty shy... but don't be fooled; look closely and you'll see some rock-hard penises among that group and I'm going to do my part to get them showing, jacking and sharing like the rest of you... you up for helping me out? "Sure, so what can we do? By the way, you'll notice we're already naked, most are hard and a few are well on their way to shooting the first load of the day," I observed. "Won't we just be part of the problem? "Well, we're going to `stage' a wrestling match for them—sort of a command performance of the tag team you guys saw yesterday during your tour. Only this time, the shy guys will see a match that's a little more `managed'. It's sort of a play... they'll observe a battle play out that's close to their personal experience in life. Our wrestlers will include a couple of bullies—counselors picked because they fill the role of older brothers or older teammates that belittled these shy guys at some time in their past. When you see them, you'll recognize the type—burly, hairy, bigger, more aggressive guys. There are also going to be younger-looking counselors that will play the weaker, smaller, hairless; some will even have smaller penises and maybe a little extra flab or be extra skinny. "In any case, you'll see the parallels right away; so will they, but that's the whole point of the `play.' Both types of actors have been coached to play their part and have rehearsed when to introduce moves that we've learned really do arouse these shy kids. I even get to participate to some extent—the psychologists say I represent the authority or `father' figure in the drama that on some level reminds these boys of past episodes where they were ridiculed, rejected or defeated in a physical or sexual advance. That humiliation can be at the hands of a sibling—brother or sister—or classmate or teammate or even a coach or whatever. I get to pick on the bullies as well as praise the weaklings. We just put on a play, sort of, where this time they win or are encouraged to try masturbating at least, and ultimately, their success is noticed by... well, me—as their dad—as well as by their peers. It sounds hokey, but believe me, I've seen it work. By the end of this morning, we should have half or more of them naked and hard and ready for the next step. I thought about my own experience in the locker room after football practice, only I wasn't ridiculed because my cock was too small or I was too skinny or fat or anything—I was teased because my dick was too big or got hard too easy! I found support by noticing and befriending other masturbators, but I could see how a weaker personality might just withdraw completely. `There but for the Grace...' I thought. "OK, but you still haven't said what you want us to do," added Tristan. "Mostly I need you to be part of the audience—just a couple of you... maybe you two and that black kid over there... we don't want to overwhelm them in numbers. There's about a dozen of them and we don't want them to feel ambushed. "That black guy is Brandon," said Tristan, "why him, specifically? "You'll notice a few of the kids over there are black—his observations during the match will help us decide which of the boys are ready to integrate into the other cabins... that's what I need you guys to do; not only observe the match, but watch the shy guys to identify those that are obviously aroused by the action. I also want you to notice which ones are also watching you three naked guys... maybe making eye contact or just staring at your bodies. If you see potential, maybe smile back or otherwise cajole one or two into at least jacking with you if not stripping all the way—if you can get one nuded up, hard and jacking along with you, he's cured and ready to move into cabin 5! Also, he might inspire others in his own group. Basically, we need to begin to get these guys moved into the general camp population—you guys get first `dibs' as to which ones you want, based on their reactions to the match, their acceptance of you, and their inter-reactions with the other boys. "I'll ask Brandon if he's interested... be right back," I said, wandering away from Brian and Tristan. Brandon said he was `in' and, after a bit of explanation, got the point of this whole charade. The three of us moved over to mingle with the group of guys and after a few introductions, blended right in among them. I could feel them surreptitiously checking out our bodies as we chatted and moved about the group—so far, so good. "If I could have your attention, we're going to demonstrate a wrestling match and explain our special `bate camp' rules for the boys from cabin 7 here... anyone else that wants to watch—either as a refresher, since you've already seen it," Brian announced, gesturing at Brandon Tristan and me, "or just want to learn more about the rules is welcome to join us in the gym next door. We ambled our way into the gym, a few tentative glances at our nude bodies gave me hope. I also noticed as we settled onto the benches that, indeed, a good number of the boys had erections. They probably thought their boners were hidden from view by wearing the shorts. They were wrong... it was especially interesting that it seemed the skinnier boys were `hiding' the more prodigious hard-ons in the group—and they had nothing to be ashamed of in the penis department. Also, to a man, all were eyeing mine, Brandon's and Tristan's naked cocks a little more openly as we settled down among them. The four wrestlers emerged from the shower area, each barefoot and naked except for their tight, well-stuffed speedos. Just like yesterday—and just like Brian explained—the two teams of wrestlers had one of each body type. After the coin toss and shaking of hands, the match began with a bully from one team against a wimp from the other. As you'd expect, the bully seemed to have the upper hand. The `blue' team bully—you could tell the teams by the color of the speedo they wore as well as the blue band each wrestler wore on his ankle—quickly overcame the skinny kid from the other, `red' team. The bully rather easily tied up his opponent and dragged his helpless prey over near his partner, got him down on the mat. The hold he had on him was clearly designed to display his small but muscly body to the crowd. He then tagged his partner in while retaining his hold on the opponent. We knew from the demonstration yesterday, that Brian would allow this double-team action for only the first minute after the tag-in. The blue weaker partner moved in and pounced on the helpless `red' wrestler, promptly stripping off his speedo. He then assaulted the poor victim's genitals, working them vigorously into a pretty impressive erection for such a skinny little kid. While the blue wimp manhandled the red wimp's crotch, the blue bully was busy working his fingers in and out of the red wimp's now naked, exposed anus, working one, then two fingers into his widespread ass. I noticed this was a particularly well-formed ass showing tan-lines the shape and size of the speedo he'd so recently lost. When a minute had gone by, Brian, also naked and by now fully boned up, blew his whistle, expecting the blue bully to release his victim, per bate-camp rules. When that didn't happen—as we expected would be the case in this `staged' fight—the teammate continued to abuse the blue wimp's cock and balls unabated, Brian grabbed the blue bully's speedo; with a flourish, he stripped the brief suit down to his ankles and pulled it completely off, exposing his burgeoning genitals and firm, muscular ass. Apparently stunned, the bully released his victim in an attempt to retrieve his own speedo—and his dignity. That's when the naked red wimp wrestler promptly escaped from his abuser and scrambled over to his own red partner and tagged him in. With a viciousness that would have made me cringe if I hadn't known this was all `theater,' the red bully pounced on the blue wimp, still sprawled in the center of the mat. In accordance with the script, the two red wrestlers quickly stripped the blue wimp of his speedo and got him into a hold where his long thin cock and hairless balls were fully exposed and open to the red wimp's attack... this time the attack was by mouth, according more points to the red team than a mere jacking off would have accrued. While the red bully held his opponent's arms up over his head, rendering him helpless to stop the attack on his genitals, the blue wimp partner plunged his mouth up and down the red wimp's penis again and again. After a few moments of this abuse, the blue bully protested to Brian that a minute had probably passed. Brian came over to engage him as he protested—just like in the also-staged all-star wrestling matches I grew up watching on TV; the result was the two red wrestlers had their way with the blue wimp while the ref's attention was diverted—again, according to the script. The red bully—now the only wrestler still in a speedo—had already pinned the blue wimp's arms up over his head; now he grabbed his legs behind the knees and brought them up to his own chest, doubling the wimp in two with his legs widespread, genitals and ass sticking straight up and completely open to the red wimp's merciless tonguing and fingering of his balls, chod and asshole—more points! While Brian continued arguing with the blue bully, the red bully threw the blue wimp on the mat face down and sat on his upper back, facing his feet. He pulled the blue wimp's ass cheeks wide apart, clearing the way for his own partner to push his erect penis against the blue wimp's saliva-soaked and loosened-up anus. He first rubbed his dick up and down the blue wimp's crack, then worked it up and in all the way to his swollen balls. The blue wimp wailed in protest—and you might think a bit of pain—but Brian had already told me that there was so much fucking happening among the counselors that this might have been the first hard cock in his ass today, but probably was not the first one this week. Such a performance! This vigorous fucking was clearly against the rules, had these wrestlers been actual campers. Looking around at the guys near us, these staged attacks, first by the blue wrestlers and now by the red ones, clearly had achieved the goal of arousing these shy spectators. To a man, every penis was hard; many stuck out the tops of their shorts; some were being masturbated while protruding out one pant-leg or the other. More than a few had their shorts completely off or down around their ankles. Brandon had wasted no time in getting his mouth on one kid's dick to his left. His shorts were puddled on the floor at his feet; Brandon had this penis so buried that he was tonguing his nut-sack. It was clear that this had been going on for some time and the kid was about to blow. Since I hadn't seen any of the lead-up, I couldn't tell if Brandon was all the way down on a 4-incher or had an 8-incher deep in his throat... I'd just have to wait to see if Brandon lived through this encounter for my answer! Simultaneously, the black kid on the other side of Brandon was sucking on Brandon's long, thick cock while jacking his own drooling penis as it stuck out the pant-leg of his shorts, all shiny with his own pre-cum. The kid being sucked had both hands on Brandon's head and grimaced as his sperm shot deep—maybe deep, maybe not—into Brandon. Tristan had similar success. While no cocks were being sucked in his corner of the crowd, four of the formerly shy kids were now completely naked and jacking each other while watching the match progress. They were in the row right behind Tristan and alternated their abject stares between the match action and Tristan's stroking of his own magnificent dick. I guess he inspired them to join him as he observed the hot action of the match. Encouraging them like a great coach, he occasionally looked back at these newly minted jackers and smiled approvingly. Well, I thought, that's 6 shy guys that we've converted to raging baters today! Despite my avid jacking of my own penis while seated close to a few other guys, none had deigned to touch me and the trepidation on their faces told me that although they were enjoying my show, if I had touched any of them, they would have gone screaming out of the gym; these were the hard-core shy guys and I felt sorry for them. All had raging hard-ons in their shorts and their eyes shot from the fucking on the mat in front to my own penis to each other's raging boners, but just wouldn't do anything but squeeze their own and try to conceal it from the prying eyes of others. I tried to think of something else I could do to help these guys realize what a gift this camp was—and what fun they could have if they'd just loosen up and take their cocks out! Before we knew it, the red wimp growled and pulled his throbbing cock out of the blue wimp's tight ass leaving a trail of sperm leaking from the smoking hole; not yet finished with his orgasm, he shot another rope or two of goo all over the still-gaping anus and up onto those callipygian ass cheeks and back (I'm betting some of you will look that up!). One jet even shot out and hit his own partner on the bulge of his over-stuffed speedos. The crowd went wild! The match was deemed over; Brian declared the red team victorious over the protests of the actors on the blue team. All four wrestlers sauntered away toward the showers—I wondered if we'd seen all the fucking that was going to happen among that group today or if this was just a short break as they played grab-ass on their way out of the gym, all sporting bouncing boners as they walked. My money was on more `exhibition fucking' in the counselor shower room. Brian came over to our group and had a very large grin as he noticed the many boners out and active among the group—success indeed! Squeezing his own impressive hard-on while speaking, he gave a pretty convincing talk about the way points were awarded in the match and encouraged each of the boys to try wrestling during their stay at camp. As he turned to go, he summoned me to join him; I stepped off the bleachers and walked a ways toward the showers with him. "I see we got some of them to loosen up today—good job!! I'm sure Matt, the athletic director, will be glad to hear that our staged match worked like a charm... how many do you think we converted? "I counted six or eight out of the dozen or so that are probably ready to join a regular cabin... we'd be glad to take `em all but I don't think we have enough bunks... I'll ask Brandon and Tristan if they had a favorite or two in the bunch, but I think we'd take any of them and we'll leave it up to you and Mr. Cooper to decide where they should go. "OK, thanks... please tell Brandon and Tristan what a great job they did and thank them for their part in our little production today... now I'm headed back to the showers; I want to fuck that little kid from the red team... I've had a letch for his round little ass since I first saw him; unfortunately I don't think I'm the only one and I may have to take seconds from his own partner—and maybe the blue team as well!