Date: Wed, 20 Dec 2023 13:58:37 +0000 (UTC) From: Harry Broom Subject: Scout Jackpot 5 gay/camping Important note This a story of gay fiction for a mature audience. It contains consenting sex between men. If this offends you, leave or is illegal where you live, leave now. If you enjoy the stories on the site, donate to Nifty to keep the site going. Scout Jackpot 5 Hi again. Thomas Witherspoon here again. I was excited to receive a letter of acceptance to attend a sailing course organised by the 1st Knysna Sea Scouts. Twenty scouts from around the country gathered on the Knysna lagoon to camp out and cook in `the shed' for the next week. I was sixteen at the time and very glad to be out of the stifling home of my parents. The Knysna Lagoon is an interesting place to be in. It is an estuary that stretches from the Knysna Heads to the Weir on the Knysna River. It is a 21 square kilometre marine reserve that borders the dense forest and opens into the Indian Ocean. The lagoon is home to the Knysna seahorse, and the lagoon supports the ecology along the coastline with valuable nutrients. The scouts meet in a large shed. There is an array of sailboats in the yard and a small area where we pitched the tents. The most exciting thing for me was the sailing instructor, a tall blond man, I guess around 28 wearing floral baggies and a faded old scout T-shirt with an old logo on it. Trent was tanned and looked more like a surfing instructor. I liked his jokes and sexual innuendos. He had a sharp tongue, but not in a malicious way. He was perfect for a gay sixteen-year-old. The first morning we spent some time going over the basics of sailing and Trent highlighted marine law. He dealt with rigging and the sails. That afternoon, in groups of two, we put it all into practice. We had to rig the boats, pull the sails up, and then de-rig the boats. Trent, now wearing a Speedo had a boat on the water demonstrating how to position the sails and boat in the wind. His Speedo was wet. I was distracted by his body and Speedo, and I think he knew it because he called me to assist him in the boat. I had to demonstrate how to move and move weight with the wind, and I didn't mind bumping into him along the way! That evening we ate fish and chips at a local shop and most of us bought Cokes to go with the meal. We were all tired that night and made sure that we got to bed early. We had to use the outside showers in the morning and the five-star breakfast consisted of a slice of toast and a boiled egg. Trent was there bright and early ready to start day two. He focussed on launch and recovery in the morning, and he had us all in the water during his demonstrations and that afternoon we had to right a capsized boat. We used three boats, and all had to take chances demonstrating. Trent and another instructor hovered close by and assisted when they needed to. That evening we made a barbeque, and one of the local sea scout's mothers brought along salads and bread rolls. I helped Trent with the barbeque. This gave me a chance to talk to him and I found out that he had studied marine biology. He excused himself while we were busy and snuck off to smoke a joint behind the scout shed. He was very mellow when he returned and said that I could share a joint with him next time if I wanted to. That night I lay in my tent with Imran, a scout from Durban, and quietly masturbated thinking about Trent. Trent looked good in his scout shirt and his red Speedo in the morning, and I was hard even before starting the course that day. The third day was the most important, as we learned as both helm and as crew to balance the boat, raise and lower the centreboard and rudder, reach across the wind, sail up and downwind, tack the boat, stop the boat amongst other things. Trent was a great teacher and made learning fun, he infused all the lessons with sexual innuendo which went over the heads of most of the other scouts. The more I heard him, the more I wanted of him. We had another barbecue that night and I hung around with Trent while others did the cooking. We snuck around the corner, and Trent shared his joint with me. My mind was spinning, but I also felt mellow and relaxed. He felt my erection and suggested that I join him in his caravan later that night. Trent opened the caravan door just wearing a towel. He kissed me as I climbed up the step and briefly gripped my cock. He made some quip like "Tonight we'll show you what to do with your erection." I imagine that Trent had smoked another joint because he was even higher. He leaned down and kissed me deeply and dropped his towel revealing what his Speedos tried to hide the entire course. He took off my shirt and rubbed my chest and then sucked my nipples, at the same time he wanked me. It felt very good, and I grabbed his erect cock which was about two inches longer than mine and I wanked him. Soon we moved into a 69-position and had each other's cocks in our mouths. I loved the feel of his cock and his foreskin which never slid completely back. Soon we both shot our loads into each other's mouths. I gave him my phone number when he asked me and promised to get together again. I got dressed and quietly returned to my tent. On the last day, we dealt with the implications of bad weather and safety. We sailed towards the open sea so that we could see how we handled the rougher seas and stronger winds. We were all quite confident. Trent was a great teacher and had the rare ability to make learning fun and to teach difficult concepts simply, We all got certificates, and more importantly, were more confident sailors. I also learned more about my body and illicit substances. When I got back to Cape Town and was unpacking my rucksack, I found a pair of red Speedos and I wondered just how they had got there. I think of Trent and his red Speedo every time I rig a sailing boat and ask myself whatever happened to him. I never did hear from him again.