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by Macout Mann


The Saturday between the second and third session is even more chaotic than the last one. For some reason the third session always has more first time campers. Malcolm and Chester have often tried to figure out a way not to have the sessions overlap, but parents want sessions to begin and end on weekends. So there is no other way.

The two remaining six week campers join Eric to watch the spectacle.

Justin Barber arrives. He will become the session blowhard, as he always had been. He is a member of the ice cream family, and never lets anyone forget it. Dolly Madison to the contrary not withstanding, Justin would have everyone believe that without his grandfather's superior skill, the Southeast could never have had frozen treats. Also, any exploit another camper may boast about, he says he has done better or more often. He is to be a Cherokee.

Eric also spies Darryl Boynton. Brown eyed and auburn haired, he is a fifteen-year-old Virginia farm boy, whose cherry Eric had popped last summer. A total bottom, Darryl has a very small dick, but last summer he came to love cocks of any size in either of his orifices. Eric looks forward to lots more fun.

It's early afternoon when Mason Harriman arrives. Wearing an Izod polo and Bermuda shorts, he is a striking figure. Six feet tall with just a touch of grey at the temples, it is apparent that he has taken care of himself over the years. Malcolm interrupts his tasks, greeting parents and settling boys in, to take Mason to the house. Malcolm then makes his excuses, says he'll see Mason for cocktails, and turns him over to Winston for a tour of the facilities.

Winston gives him an extensive tour, visiting everything from the kitchen to the stables. The cabins are just like Mason remembers. Most things are, actually. The dock at the lake has been rebuilt. The dining room has been enlarged and the kitchen modernized. Mason does ask some penetrating questions. Winston is able to answer them all.

By five o'clock Winston delivers Mason back to Malcolm and Chester's house. Malcolm leaves Chester to deal with stragglers and officially welcomes Mason to Camp Lookout. He makes Martinis, which they enjoy on the patio.

"I was very impressed with my tour guide," Mason says.

"Yes. This is Winston's first year as a senior counsellor. He has certainly impressed everyone."

The two of them chat. Mason's trip was satisfactory. The transition between sessions is going well. They join the campers for the evening meal.

Later, Malcolm, Chester and Mason get together for a nightcap.

"Please don't take umbrage," Mason says, "but I must ask. Are the two of you gay?"

A long pause. "Yes," Malcolm finally responds. "We don't advertise it. If it were generally known, it would devastate our business. But if someone has the guts to ask, we're usually honest about it."

"I was curious," Mason said, "because I'm gay too."

"When I found you were coming, I checked the records," Chester interjects. "You were supposedly totally straight when you were a camper."

"Yes," Mason laughs. "I was a `late bloomer.' I was in college before I realized that I wasn't really attracted to women. I was in law school before I had my first gay encounter."

You do remember our policy against teasing or bullying?" Malcolm asks.

"Sure. And I never teased any of the boys that were weak and couldn't meet the standards."

"That is important," Chester says, "but the major reason for the rule is to protect gay boys."

"Goddam!" Mason answers.

Malcolm and Chester expand on the camp's policy toward gay campers.

"Are you aware that your boy, Ben Foster, is gay?" asks Malcolm.

"No. I don't know anything about him. And I don't think the church would inquire about that sort of thing, that is, unless you had said `no gays,' or something like that."

"The young man that you were so impressed with this afternoon is also gay," Malcolm volunteers.

"Well, I've got to say that he's hot. That's for sure."

"Maybe you'd like to spend some more time with him," Chester ventures.

"If I only could," Mason responds.

Later Mason asks if the camp has religious services on Sunday afternoon like it used to.

"Oh yes, Malcolm says. "Did you go when you were a camper?"

"Oh no. I was the rebellious teenager. Never got into religion until I moved to Philadelphia. A boyfriend introduced me to St. Clements and it seemed to be the right place for me. Funny, it competes with St. Mary the Virgin in New York to be the highest--that is, the most Anglo Catholic--church in the country. Nothing like I had ever been exposed to. But I remained even after Quinton and I split up. And as you know, St. Clements administers my effort to have boys come here."

"Well, if you want to go to the service tomorrow afternoon, you're in luck. It's the week for the Episcopal minister from Fort Payne to be here," Malcolm says. "He's a very nice young man. Been here a couple of years. Of course, I must say that all the ministers that come up are good sorts. We don't have any complaints from any of the campers about being proselytized."

As the three adults discuss religion, "lights-out" gives Eric the opportunity to seek Daryl out in the Choctaw cabin. Slipping into his bunk, Eric is surprised to find the younger boy still in his shorts. He still begins to massage the chest of last year's best bottom and guides Darrel's hand to his own boner.

"Don't!" Daryl whispers.

"What d'ya mean?" Eric responds.

"I don't do those things anymore. It's wrong."

"You didn't think they were wrong before."

"But now I do. Please let me alone."

"Buddy, if you don't want to mess around, you're in the wrong place. You can put me off, but you can't spend four weeks listening to everybody around you fucking and sucking without doing what I can tell right now you really want to do. Come on, let me have your ass."

"No. It's wrong."

Eric slips out of Daryl's bed to find relief elsewhere.

Copyright 2015 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved.