Date: Mon, 21 Dec 2020 22:04:02 +0000 (UTC)
From: Erin Boy <erinboy_98@yahoo.com>
Subject: Mister Cameron's Boys [new 3/3]

Mister Cameron's Boys
Gay Adult Youth, teen, anal, first time, true

Comments always welcome at erinboy_98@yahoo.com
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I awoke to a thud next to my head as Jack's feet hit the floor. He was
stark naked and his cock was unashamedly stiff. He quickly turned from me
and without a word padded off to the toilet. He was the first one up. I
could tell some of the other boys were awake and I saw several pairs of
eyes follow the image of Jack's naked buttocks as he strode without any
shyness across the cold floor. I had also awakened with a boner and had to
pee real bad, but I couldn't put on the cum-soaked briefs I had tossed
under the bunk the night before. I pulled my pack from beneath the bunk and
rummaged through until I found a pair of clean underpants. Be Prepared! I
didn't bother to put on a clean T-shirt however and as soon as Jack came
out of the toilet I made a beeline for the door so I could relieve myself.

Soon everyone was dressed and we filed off to the dining hall for
breakfast.  Getting in line with our trays, Klaus pulled Jack aside and
said something to him and Jack smiled at him and said something back. We
had flapjacks and sausages for breakfast. The adults had coffee. We had
cocoa. Then we were off on another day's program of leadership training
exercises. Again, Mr.  Cameron had me almost always by his side, carrying
the kudu horn to blow when it was time to move on to the next event.

I haven't said too much yet about Mr. Cameron, but all the time I was with
him he was talking to me about different stuff, asking me about school and
about my family. He asked if I found that going to an all-boy high school
made it hard to meet girls. I told him I wasn't too interested in girls.
We had dancing classes at the grammar school I had gone to, but I wasn't
that keen on going to the dances that the church ran for seventh and eight
graders.

One time at a dance several guys decided to play a joke on this one girl.
There were four or five of us and each one would take a turn dancing with
her for a minute or two and then the next guy would ask to cut in. I was
the last guy to cut in but the joke was that I was supposed to ask to cut
in but then dance away with the guy and leave her standing there. Why I did
not question this plan, I do not know. I should have realized the joke was
on me as much as the girl. But I did it anyway.

Some of the guys in my eighth-grade class claimed to have done stuff with
girls, like feeling their breasts and stuff and there was a new girl who
joined our class at the beginning of the year who was the subject of
several rumors. Some guys claimed to have gotten a blow job from her. One
guy made up a song that he sang for us hanging out on the playground next
to the school. It went "All day, all night, Beverly, down by the seaside
blowing me." to which we all responded with knowing leers. If they only
knew it was my secret desire to do just that to any of them who would let
me.

Mr. Cameron had this thing about posture and several times he would stand
behind me putting his hands on my shoulders and pulling them back to make
me stand up straight with my chest out, which was pretty silly considering
I didn't really have any chest. I was 5'9" and weighed 120 pounds. One time
when he was standing behind me straightening my shoulders I felt him
pressing against me slightly from behind. I wasn't sure, but it felt like
he had a boner and it was pressing against my butt. He asked me if I had
started shaving yet and I said no, which was true. I did have pubes, but
they were sort of wispy and sparse. I didn't have any armpit hair yet.  Mr.
Cameron said it was very important to put off shaving as long as I could
and that when I did begin to get facial hair I could use a manicure
scissors to trim it off. Once I started shaving, my face would get very
rough and scratchy. As he said this he was stroking my cheek with his
fingers.  This was while we were alone together at the place where he had
me stand when I blew the horn, which was on a rocky outcrop on the edge of
a hill above the camp so the sound would carry. He also took some
photographs there of me posing with the horn pretending to blow it.

It was mid-afternoon and the sun was already getting low when we held the
closing ceremonies and passed out badges and some special awards. Then the
staff, meaning me and Jack, the two Italian scouts, Klaus, Seppo and the
other scout leaders, checked that all the gear was stowed and the
outbuildings secured. Mr. Cameron was one of the last to leave and we were
not far along on the drive home when the sun had set. As on our trip out on
Friday night, I was sitting in the back seat, on the right and Jack was
sitting in front with Mr. Cameron, except instead of sitting next to the
door he had slid over next to Mr. Cameron and soon had his head on his
shoulder as if he was falling asleep. I also began to doze off as it had
been a busy day and we had stayed up too late Saturday night. The last
thing I noticed before I fell asleep was that Jack's head was no longer
visible.

I woke up when the car stopped. I thought I was home, but instead we were
at Jack's house and Mr. Cameron got out of the car to get Jack's pack out
of the trunk. Jack said goodbye to me and Mr. Cameron told me I should sit
up front. As we pulled away he explained that he needed to swing by the
church where their troop met and put away the fire-by-friction kits and the
knot-tying ropes and stuff. Then he would take me home.

The church hall was dark but there was enough light coming in from the
street lights to be able to find the storage closet across the room and Mr.
Cameron turned the light on in there so we could see where things went on
the shelf. Then Mr. Cameron told me he had something special for me. He
opened this big trunk in the back of the closet and inside were pairs and
pairs of woolen scout shorts. He said that when the BSA discontinued
selling woolen shorts, his troop had bought the entire remaining stock. Not
all boys got a pair of woolen shorts. Only special boys did. He asked if I
wanted to be one of his special boys and I said "Yes, please."

"Take off your pants" he said.

I was wearing my scout uniform long pants so my mother would not know I had
been wearing shorts all weekend in the cold of October. Thank goodness I
had put on that pair of clean underpants that I had in my pack and then I
remembered that my cum-soaked briefs were still there under the bunk in the
cabin. As I stood there in my white cotton briefs he told me to lift my
shirt while he took a cloth tape measure to my waist.

"What side do you dress on?" he asked.

I didn't know what he meant and he explained that it meant whether your
genitals hung down the left or right leg when you put on trousers and when
a man had a suit made the tailor would make more room in the leg on that
side.  I told him I didn't know and that mine didn't really hang down much
at all.  Looking back on it now I realize this was a silly question to be
asking as the woolen shorts were not tailor-made to accommodate right or
left-hanging balls.

He selected a pair from the trunk and had me try them on. They had a button
fly with metal buttons, but he told me to just button the top button.  Then
he ran his fingers around inside the waist band to check the fit. He did
the same with the legs, crouching down in front of me with his face right
in front of my crotch while he slid his fingers into the leg opening to
gauge the tightness of the fit.

"Take these off" he said "they're too loose." He gave me another pair and
repeated the process, sliding his fingers up each leg hole before deciding
they were just right. "Take them off now." He said. I took them off and
handed them to him. My long pants had been tossed on the counter and as I
reached for them to put them on he said "No, wait a moment." and stood
behind me in his shoulder-straightening pose. He massaged my shoulders and
caressed my neck. Now there was one less layer of clothing between us as he
pressed his body against my back. This time there was no doubt about what
part of his anatomy was pressing against my butt. It was his cock and it
was hard. He kept his left hand on my shoulder and used his right hand to
open his flies and fish out his cock. It pressed against the thin layer of
cotton that was the only thing that now stood between us. And soon it was
gone, his fingers having hooked the elastic waistband and slid the briefs
down and off my butt to where they slid to the floor. His pants soon
followed as he used both hands to unbuckle himself and push them down
around his ankles. Then his hands were on my shoulders again, leaning into
me, pressing his cock in my crack where it slid up and down. "Hand me that
jar," he said "the white one on the shelf there." indicating what I later
learned was a jar of cold cream on the shelf with the makeup for the Order
of the Arrow dancers.

He took a big gob of cream on his fingers and I felt him fingering my butt,
looking for the hole. I knew what he wanted to do and I was willing. I
wanted it. His fingers found the spot and he tried to force his way in,
using the cream to grease the way. It was not easy. I think I was a little
constipated and my hole was clenched tight. Finally a finger slipped in.
It hurt but I didn't whimper. "A scout is brave," I thought. A second
finger forced its way in but it was not long before I could feel something
else.  It was his cock. It was fully hard and pressing against my hole. He
pressed down on my shoulders so that I was bent over the counter, my face
turned so my cheek was flat on the wooden counter top. "Have you done this
before?"  he asked.

"Yes." I said. "I mean no."

If I sounded uncertain it was because I was thinking about this guy I had
fucked a couple of months before. He was a stranger who picked me up in his
car and took me to a park up by the water tower. We traded blow jobs and
then we got in the back seat where he got up on the seat and had me fuck
him. But this was different. I was going to be fucked, not fuck someone
else. Then it happened. The head of his cock was inside my asshole. It
hurt.

"Relax" he said "it will feel good once I'm in all the way."

I didn't know what to expect, but I trusted him and tried to bear the pain
without saying anything. He kept pushing and backing off, pushing and
backing off, but it wouldn't go in any further. I tried not to squeeze my
asshole. But my body had its own reaction. He stopped for a moment and got
another two fingers full of cream and must have smeared it all over his
cock because this time he just pressed and pressed and didn't back off
until all of a sudden something gave way and he slid in all the way at
once. He was in me. Mr. Cameron had his cock in my ass and I was his boy.
It didn't hurt so much. It felt very full, like I needed to go to the
bathroom real bad.  His hands were on my shoulders. He leaned forward and
laid his cheek alongside mine and pushed. Then he slid back a little and
pushed again. Soon he was fucking me. His cock was going in and out of my
ass. Not all the way out, but all the way in on each stroke. He started to
lick my ear with his tongue. Then he was driving into me faster and faster
until there was a grunting sound added to my soft moaning. He was shooting
his cum in my butt.  He held his cock all the way inside me at the top of
his stroke and clutched my shoulders as he shuddered and shot.

I was fucked. I got fucked. Mr. Cameron had fucked me. I was proud in some
weird way that I had been able to take it. As he slid out of me he said
"Don't move. Lay still" and I watched as he got some tissues out of a box
on another shelf and began to gently wipe my bottom. I could feel stuff
leaking out like I had the runs, but it must have been his sperm. He told
me to pull my pants up while he held some more tissue in place. As I
finished getting dressed he told me that when I got home I should sit on
the toilet for a while and try to clean myself out and not to be frightened
if there was some blood but that would go away soon and be sure to put the
tissues in the toilet and not in a wastebasket where someone might find
them.

Driving home I sat with my head on Mr. Cameron's shoulder and he gently
rubbed my leg where it was close against him. Before we got to my house, I
had slid down to where my head was in his lap and he let me rub his cock
through his trousers. At one point I tried to unzip him and take it out,
but he stopped me saying someone might see us. There would be other times
with Mr. Cameron, but I will always remember him for my first fuck as a
bottom.

Please drop me a line if you have a pair of woolen scout shorts.

Other stories by this author:
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#erinboy