At a summer camp

AT THE SUMMER CAMP

Part 1.

After finishing my second year at the pedagogical institute, I was sent for an internship at a summer health camp. The internship was to last two months—July and August. Of course, it was a pity to spend two summer months with kids, but there was nothing to be done; the internship experience was necessary.

The first month we worked well. I mean myself and my colleagues. Our contingent was teenagers aged 12 to 18, and they didn't present us with any unpleasant surprises.

But in August, older guys arrived: 16 to 18 years old. These ones you couldn't trust an inch. And it's the most difficult age—puberty,

the transitional period, etc., etc.

In my unit, there were thirty such wild ones. We occupied a barrack-type building, with fifteen beds on each side. At the entrance was my little nook, separate: a metal cot and a small locker. The toilets were shared, the showers too. In short, what was left after the collapse of the Union. Throughout the nineties, the camp stood empty, but recently it became in demand after the President declared that children are our future. The local authorities repaired the barracks, replaced the water pipes, and updated the kitchen equipment. They patched up the fence here and there. And the camp started operating.

In my unit, an informal leader immediately emerged. This was a sturdy-looking 18-year-old teenager, a handsome guy, I'd even say with a certain charm. His name was Denis Kalmykov, but all the guys addressed him casually and simply called him Dan. I had to appoint him as my deputy.

Once, I went into the shower to check how the guys were washing up. And I saw Dan, who was already drying off. He was a fully developed young man with decent genitalia for his age. His body was covered in an even tan without white stripes in the places usually covered by swim trunks. The pubic hair was trimmed short, and the scrotum was completely shaved.

In short, I inadmissibly lingered my gaze on his body, and he deliberately took a long time drying off, as if giving me the opportunity to admire his body. I embarrassedly looked away and gave some order, I don't even remember what.

Once after lights out, my friend Sasha Gostev, the commander of the first unit, invited me over. We sat with him over a bottle of wine, discussing camp news. I don't remember for what reason I told him about my informal deputy Denis and his leadership qualities.

— "Just like his dad," Sasha concluded.

— "Who do you mean?" I asked him.

— "Well, who? Your Denis Kalmykov. He's the son of the vice-governor, hence the leadership qualities."

— "Can't be. Couldn't the vice-governor send his son to some resort instead of our prehistoric camp?"

— "Maybe he did. Did you notice his tan? The kid probably vacationed somewhere in Antalya or Spain. And he was sent here for political reasons."

— "Come on, you're exaggerating. What politics here?" I asked Sasha.

— "Here's what. Remember in the first days of the third shift, a journalist from the region came to the camp. Well, she wrote a little article saying that the 'Molodezhny' health camp, for which the vice-governor is responsible, is so good that even the vice-governor's son spends his holidays here. And elections are coming up, and that's good PR. Go to the library, read it."

— "Alright, alright. I believe you."

— "And did you notice, Tolya, that even the food has become much better than before? Daddy tried for his little son and allocated appropriate funds. That's how it is. Be careful with him, or he'll tell his daddy and you'll get kicked out of the institute for professional incompetence."

— "No, he's not the type to tell. His gaze is direct and his character, it seems to me, is not mean."

— "Well, I warned you," Sasha said in farewell, and I went to my barracks to sleep.

Once I noticed that after lunch, during the camp's quiet hour, Kalmykov disappeared behind the barracks towards the fence, which bordered a dense undergrowth that turned into a forest. Deciding to check where Dan was headed, I followed him. I discovered a huge hole in the fence. I crawled through it and found myself outside the camp territory. I didn't know where to go. I walked about two hundred meters around and returned, not noticing anyone.

The next day, I purposely went to the hole in the fence and sat in ambush until a guy from Sasha's unit passed through, and a couple of minutes later Dan appeared. He crawled through the hole and disappeared into the forest. My search led to nothing. I understood perfectly well why the guys went into the forest. They were probably going to masturbate. At that age, what can you do. I myself sin with this after lights out, for lack of other options. But for some reason, I wanted to catch them.

On the third day, everything repeated. Only this time I didn't go into the forest, but towards the river that flowed near the camp. However, we took the kids swimming in the other direction, where there was a good sandy beach. On this side, there was practically no beach, and the bank was steep.

That's where I found them. They were lying naked on a sandy shoal and masturbating each other. I crouched down, and I could see everything clearly. The scene excited me so much that my dick came out of my pant leg and stood stiff. The thing is, I was wearing shorts with nothing underneath. I pulled down my shorts and began to lightly masturbate my dick.

Meanwhile, the scene on the riverbank changed. The guys lay on their sides, one behind the other, and began to suck each other off. Oh, how I wanted to be in the place of Dan's partner. I would have sucked him off! But the guys knew their business and worked diligently.

I came practically at the same time as them, with the only difference being that they swallowed the cum, and I spilled mine on the ground. After lying there for a bit, they washed off in the river, and I hurried back to the camp so they wouldn't notice me.

When Kalmykov appeared in the barracks, I asked where he had been during quiet hour. He innocently replied that he had been playing chess with the guys from the first unit.

BERLI.