Meet the Counselors

The airport was smaller than I expected. One terminal. A gift shop. A coffee stand.

And me, standing beside Maggie while holding a cardboard sign that read:

CAMP ORGEE

Despite the makeout, we made it to the airport in plenty of time. Maggie still glowed from her orgasm. She looked entirely too relaxed for someone responsible for transporting a dozen strangers into the wilderness.

“I can’t wait to practice what you taught me,” I said. I could still smell her on my fingers.

She winked, “They’ll be plenty of opportunities.”

As if on cue, the first counselor walked through the doors.

She wore sandals and a long skirt and carried enough bracelets to stock a jewelry store. Her locked hair hung halfway down her back. A sketchbook was tucked under one arm.

She smiled at the sign. “Camp Orgee?”

Maggie raised her hand.

The woman smiled wider.

“Oh, thank God.”

She introduced herself as Emma.

The art teacher.

Within five minutes she’d informed us that she painted, wrote poetry, made pottery, and had once spent a month living on a commune. She smelled faintly of lavender and body odor.

I was fascinated. How could I be sexually attracted and repulsed at the same time.

A woman who painted all day and believed in destiny seemed incredibly romantic. I immediately imagined us sitting beside the lake painting each other’s nude body.

Then the next counselor arrived.

Shorter. Broad shoulders. Athletic build. Huge tits. Bubble butt. She carried two massive duffel bags like they weighed nothing.

“Where do these go?”

She had the kind of voice that suggested she’d won arguments her entire life.

This was Brooke.

Gymnastics instructor. Current NCAA runner up.

She shook my hand hard enough to test my bones. I liked her immediately. She looked like she could carry me if I got injured. Or throw me. I wondered how flexible she was.

The third counselor emerged wearing yoga pants and a loose shirt that only covered one shoulder.

Thin and ta with all her height coming from her legs. She moved like she was constantly hearing music no one else could hear.

“Dance instructor,” Maggie whispered.

That made sense. She could rest her ankle on my shoulder standing up.

Her name was Claire.

She practically floated across the pavement. She smiled at me. I forgot my own name for a second. Just watching her walk made me feel clumsy.

A few minutes later the doors opened again.

The sunlight seemed to come in with her. Deep tan. Bleached hair. Sunglasses pushed onto her head. She looked like she’d been born at the beach.

“Lifeguard?” I guessed.

She grinned.

“Bingo.”

Her name was Sierra.

She shook my hand and somehow managed to make it feel like we’d known each other forever. I briefly considered becoming an exceptionally strong swimmer. Maybe I’d fake drowning to get some mouth-to-mouth.

Then the final counselor arrived.

She was carrying more luggage than everyone else combined.

Tall. Athletic. Powerful. Blonde hair in a ponytail. She wore a rugby jersey. When she spoke, an Australian accent rolled out.

“Oh thank God. I thought I’d missed the bus.”

I nearly dropped the sign.

An Australian. I had never met an Australian.

Her name was Tessa.

She introduced herself by saying, “I hope you’ve got decent coffee at camp.”

I was instantly in love. I wanted to hear her accent moan my name. Beg for more.

We loaded the luggage in the back the bus that still smelled faintly of hot pussy. Then everyone climbed aboard. I ended up sitting near the middle while Maggie drove.

The counselors talked. Laughed. Compared schools. Compared majors. Compared stories from previous summers.

I mostly listened. I had none of their experiences. I was different. A baby chick who had just hatched into their new world.

I soaked it all in.

Emma sat cross-legged in her seat, doodling flowers (to me they looked like the female anatomy that Maggie had just revealed to me) in her sketchbook. I bet she was going commando under than long skirt, just like Maggie.

Brooke stretched her arms while telling a story about a gymnastics competition. Her big breasts perked up. My face wanted to feel the softness of those pillows.

Claire stretched her legs into the aisle and absentmindedly hummed. My mind raced trying to think of sex positions perfect for a ballerina…how that humming

Sierra had already started planning skinny dipping in the lake. Nothing cures a hangover faster than your plunging your nude body into a cold lake. I’d have to try.

Tessa looked out the window and asked if there were bears. She could wrestle a bear easily. Its claws would unfortunately shred her clothing leaving her exposed for the world to see.

There were so many beautiful women on one bus that my eighteen-year-old brain simply stopped functioning.

A few days ago I’d been worried I’d spend the summer alone. Now I had options. Too many options.

The art teacher seemed freaky.

The gymnast seemed like she would dominate me and make me call her mommy.

The dancer looked like she needed to dance naked in the rain to feel alive.

The lifeguard practically glowed. Probably not a tan line on her body.

And there was an actual Australian.

I looked out the window.

Pine trees raced past.

My life had become ridiculous.

Maggie glanced at me in the rearview mirror.

“You okay back there?”

I realized I’d been smiling to myself.

“Yeah.”

She smiled.

“You look overwhelmed.”

I looked around the bus.

Then back at her.

“I think I am.”

I leaned back in my seat. The bus rolled toward camp. And for the first time in my life, I had absolutely no idea what came next.

Which of these beautiful women were going to have the honor of taking my virginity?