Competition

Walking up the steps into the cafeteria, Sierra’s fingers entwined mine. She smiled, those blue eyes always searching my face for a reaction. A few other counselors noticed our closeness. I looked around for Amanda and her judging eyes, but she wasn’t there.

As we sat down at the table, Emma asked, “Did you two go for a romantic swim together?”

Sierra grinned, “I found out how horrible an artist you are. You did not do him justice at all.”

Ooos went up around the table.

“I’m always open for another session,” Emma winked at me. “Maybe I need to warm you up more first. See your full portrait potential.”

“No more posing!”

The group laughed. The group felt more at ease like I was one of them. Maybe the prank was an initiation. No one was laughing at me. I felt a sense of belonging with these four college girls.

Deb clapped her hands. “Quick announcement.”

Everyone looked up.

“Maggie’s making another airport run this afternoon. The rest of the counselors arrive today.”

A cheer went up.

“Including the male staff.”

Another cheer.

Emma leaned toward me.

“Your odds just got worse.”

“My odds?”

“You won’t be the only young buck around anymore.”

Brooke smirked. “Competition.”

Sierra squeezed my hand under the table. “You’ll survive.”

Deb continued. “The next two days will be orientation and training, then you’ll get a night off before the campers arrive, then it will be work, work, work. Luckily our work is fun, and we know how to relax at the end of a long day.”

Sal moved his hand from his wife’s shoulder to her ass, making her jump. Nobody but me noticed. They were all discussing which male counselors were coming back. What they were going to wear for the night off. How they weren’t going to get that drunk this time. They became college party girls, and I was pushed outside the circle again.

I stood up, and emptied my tray.

Amanda walked in with her clipboard and a fresh set of clothes. She looked at me, “You. Head to the dance/gymnastics studio to help set up equipment.”

Before I could start up a conversation with her, maybe get some advice on how to deal with competition and not get jealous, she was already talking with Sal about schedules. Focused. Professional. Completely uninterested in the cafeteria gossip swirling around her.

Then I looked at the empty seat where Maggie usually sat. Funny. I’d almost expected to see her there. Instead she was somewhere between the airport and camp, bringing back a whole busload of new people. More counselors. More personalities. More possibilities. This place just kept getting bigger.

The combo dance gymnastics studio felt bipolar. Half mats, half shining wood floors. A mirrored walled covered one side with a railing at waist level running the whole thing. Trampolines and balance beams. The room felt as different as the two counselors. Claire the wispy dance instructor who seemed to float around the room to me on her long legs. Brooke the stout gymnast, whose legs looked like that were about to jump over me at any moment.

Luckily they were in line for the first thing they wanted me to do.

“Get the sound system going! We need music!”

“You were Amish were you? You can use electricity?”

I smiled, “I wasn’t Amish. I had a radio in my room. I’ll get it set up for you.”

Once set up, Claire plopped down a huge softer binder. She flipped through it looking for the perfect CD to play. While she looked Brooke and I carried the balance beam to where she wanted it.

Shakira bumped through the speakers. Brooke pat the beam. “Hop on up. Show me what you can do.”

I climbed up and successfully walked without falling. I bowed and said, “Your turn.”

Brooke looked at Claire, “I want to see what the ballerina can do first.”

Claire lifted herself up onto the beam. She stood straight bring her to giant heights. She moved her feet and legs, working through the basic ballet positions. Finally she leapt into the air, and landed delicately on one foot. She spun on the beam, then straight into the air spinning. She landed back onto the beam, the bounded off like a doe, flying into the air and landing on the mat. She bowed elegantly.

I clapped, impressed. Balance and grace. “That was awesome!” She came over and I gave her a high five. “You need to teach me some moves. I’ve never really danced before.”

“I can give you some one-on-one lessons,” Claire said. Her hand raising mine and twirling me.

Brooke either wasn’t impressed with the beam routine, or didn’t like the attention I was giving Claire. Either way she was pissed. Her routine was full of power and anger. She got onto the beam with a handstand, then stretched her legs out wide.

My mouth dropped at the flexibility. The possibilities.

She bounded, twirled and flipped on the beam. Really showing off how she should’ve won gold last season. It was overkill. She didn’t need to prove how much better she was at gymnastics than Claire.

Claire and I clapped at her routine. She really was awesome. She jumped off the beam with multiple flips and landed on her feet with only her big tits jiggling in her sports bra.

“That was incredible,” I cheered.

Brooke smirked at Claire. “Thank you. I can do what she can do, but she can’t do what I can do.”

“Not everything is a competition,” I said, trying to cool the atmosphere.

“Yes it is,” said Claire, draping her arm around my shoulders. “Which of us do you think is prettier?”

Brooke crossed her arms under her big chest, “I was going to say ‘sexier’.”

Claire grinned at challenge, “I can do sexier too.”

She gracefully walked over to the mirrored wall. She effortlessly lifted her leg and rested it on the bar. She looked back at me, “Do you find this position sexy?”

I pictured myself behind her. Such easy access. I could see the mound of her pussy pressed into her leggings. “Definitely sexy.”

Brooke strut over to the bar and lifted her leg into the same pose. She was much shorted but her flexibility made it just as easy. Her ass looked thick and juicy in her tight spandex shorts. She looked back at me too, “Come over here and choose one of us. There can only be one winner.”