Camp Director’s Wife

A rusty blue F-250 rolled into the bus station circle. The driver’s window dropped and a woman leaned out.

Tiny. Big black hair. Huge sunglasses. Old enough that I would instinctively called her Ma'am instead of Miss. If she had kids, she’d be a MILF.

“Hop in.”

I tossed my duffel into the bed and climbed into the passenger seat.

The truck smelled like coffee and perfume.

The woman sat so far forward her tits squished against the steering wheel. Her head barely cleared the dashboard.

Before I’d finished buckling my seatbelt, she slammed the truck into gear and lurched out of the parking lot.

I grabbed the frame of the door for the ride through the winding roads from Augusta into the middle of nowhere. No A/C. Just the blowing May air.

Every time she spoke, she turned completely toward me. And every time she turned toward me, the truck drifted toward the shoulder. I found myself watching the road for both of us.

“Hi! I’m Lynn!”

She flashed a smile. Perfect teeth: rich teeth. Teeth so white that they made you think about how your own teeth looked.

“I’m one of the camp directors. My husband Sal and I run the place.”

The truck bounced over a pothole. She flew up from the seat, finally seeing a full view of the road before slamming back down, her tits jiggling on her petite frame.

“Usually I don’t pick up staff, but you got here early. That’s okay, though. We’ve got plenty for you to do before everybody else arrives.”

She shifted gears.

“Hopefully you can drive stick.” Her hand slide up and down the shaft then twisted on the bulbous knob. She bit her lip as her nail traced the indents of the numbered gears. I had to look away before my cock took notice.

The road wound through endless walls of pine. I’d grown up around cornfields and subdivisions. This looked like another country. Green stretched in every direction. Sometimes the trees broke open and a lake appeared, bright and blue beneath the afternoon sun. Then the forest swallowed the road again.

I kept staring out the window.

Lynn noticed.

A smile spread across her face.

“You Midwest boys are adorable.”

I looked over.

“It’s like you’ve never seen a forest before.”

Maybe I hadn’t. At least not one like this.

I glanced at her.

The landscape was beautiful.

So was she.

Not young. Not old. Dark hair. A body made for tossing on a bed and flipping around. A mischievous smile that looked permanent. I wouldn’t mind if she took my virginity.

There was something playful about the way her hand rubbed the gear shift as she watched me. Something that made you feel like she knew a joke you didn’t.

She caught me looking.

I looked back out the window. The truck accelerated down a hill toward another stretch of water. I gasped at the beauty. The thrill of this new country. I’ve finally broken free of the only places I was constrained to Home, Church, School.

Lynn laughed. The sound filled the cab. I was smiling. Tears in my eyes. I was free.

A few minutes later she whipped the truck onto a gravel road. Dust exploded behind us. A wooden sign stood between two stone pillars.

CAMP ORGEE.

The gravel road curved through the woods before opening into a collection of cabins, fields, and waterfront buildings scattered along the lakeshore.

The place looked exactly like a summer camp should. The kind of place only seen in movies.

Lynn drove me to a small cabin near the edge of camp.

Two bunks. Two screened windows. No bathroom. A dirt path disappeared uphill toward the shower house.

“This is you.”

I climbed out.

The cabin sat beneath a stand of pines that swayed gently overhead. Nobody else was around. The camp felt abandoned.

“I hope you don’t get lonely at night.”

Her grin suggested she enjoyed making people uncomfortable.

“If I do, can I call you for company?” I waited for the retort to my smart comment. A damnation to hell for my dirty mind and loose tongue.

She barked out a laugh.

“You’re trouble.” Her perfect smile made me wonder if my breath smelled bad.

I didn’t back down. I was free now, “And you’re gorgeous. You can’t blame me for trying.”

Her eyebrows rose.

For a second I wondered if I’d pushed too far. Or if she was about to invite herself into my cabin to give me a personal tour of the bed.

Her smile didn’t falter. Not offended. Amused.

“You’ll fit in just fine around here.” She lowered her sunglasses showing me her chocolate brown eyes and winked.

She shifted the truck back into gear.

“Rest up. You start work tomorrow.”

A moment later she disappeared down the gravel road in a cloud of dust.

Then it was just me.

A cabin. A duffel bag. A lake somewhere beyond the trees. And three months of freedom stretched out in front of me.