A number of years ago, there was a movie with, I think, Kristy McNichol and Tatum O’Neal in it. I don’t remember the name of the movie, but the plot was that these two rich girls went to a summer camp when they were about 18 with the express purpose of losing their virginities.
The amazing thing was that about a year after I saw that movie, I became the beneficiary of the same plot.
Let me tell you about it. I was a student at a major New York City university, and for three years in a row, I had been working during the summer as a counselor at a c amp for the children of wealthy families in the Adirondacks. The job didn’t pay that much, but the work was pleasant and healthy.
This was a camp for girls only, and most of the girls came from wealthy families and were quite spoiled. But there were two that I remember very fondly. They were Cathy and Becca. Becca’s real name was “Rebecca”, but she didn’t like that so she called herself “Becca.” Cathy was blonde, and Becca was dark-haired. Both of them were about five-seven in height, both about 110 pounds, and both quite lovely. They had gone to the same private girls school in New York City and had been lifelong friends.
The camp was in a beautiful forested area of the Adirondacks and bordered a lovely lake. Swimming lessons took place at the lake every morning from 10 to 11. I was not a swimming instructor, but still I was expected to be there to assist if I was needed. All of the girls were wearing the same blue and sheer form-fitting tank suits that left little to the imagination, so “assisting” for me was not that difficult.
And my assistance in fact was needed that day when one of the girls, Cathy, complained that she was feeling faint and dizzy.
“I don’t feel well,” she muttered.
“It may be a slight case of heat stroke,” the instructor said to me. “Why don’t you take her up to the First Aid tent and let her lie down for awhile.”
“Okay,” I replied, and putting my arm about Cathy, I led her up the path to the First Aid tent.
There was a cot in the tent, and she laid down on that, while I went to see if there was anything cold in the propane refrigerator.
“I feel so hot,” I heard her say. “I can’t breathe.”
I found a gel cold pack that was used for sore muscles, so I took that out and went back to her. I found to my surprise that she had pulled down the top of her bathing suit so that it was bunched at her waist. I stared at her breasts: small but quite lovely.
“Ah, maybe this will help,” I said, putting the gel pack on her forehead.
“I still feel hot,” she said, “I need to take this off.” And with that, she pulled the swimming suit down until it was bunched around her ankles. I couldn’t believe it, and I didn’t know what to do. But I couldn’t help looking at her. Her little tuft of maidenhair certainly proved that she was a real blonde.
“Ah, Cathy, I don’t think this is—“
She sat up in the cot with an angry look in her face. “Neither do I. This was Becca’s idea, but it’s not going to work. There isn’t enough time.”
“Enough time for what?”
“For you to take my virginity.”
“Okay,” she said patiently, “Let me explain it to you. Becca and I are both virgins. Since we went to the same all-girls school in Manhattan, there’s wasn’t much chance to meet boys. But we both vowed that when we went back to New York after summer camp, we wouldn’t be virgins any longer.”
“So what has that to do with me?”
“Well, there’s not that many good-looking guys in the camp either. So we talked about it and decided you should be the one.”
Now I was getting suspicious. “To do what?”
“To take our virginity. Virginities.”
“Both of you.”
“Yes. Would you do it?”
“I could get fired for something like that.”
“We wouldn’t tell. Honest.”
Well, I had to think about this. There was no question that it was wrong. But when was I ever going to get a chance like this again? At the age of 26, to pluck (rhymes with f—) two tender and beautiful virgins.
“Let me think about it,” I said.
“Okay.” She smiled. “Answer by tomorrow?”
“Answer by tomorrow. Now I think you ought to put your bathing suit back on.”
With a smile, she did so
I thought about it that night. I would be crazy to turn down an offer like this, but I had to work it out so that none of us would get caught. I finally came up with a plan.
I pulled Cathy aside after the swimming lesson the next day. “Okay,” I said, “I will agree to it. But here’s how we’ll do it. Sunday, as you know is a free day: You can do whatever you want. So how about you tell everyone that you and Becca are going for a hike up to the Ridge.” The Ridge, with a beautiful view of the mountains, was at the end of a two-mile hiking trail, and there also was a wilderness cabin at the top which belonged to the camp. The cabin was always left unlocked for the benefit of hikers who wanted to stop for lunch or dinner or stay overnight. “I’ll meet you outside of the camp, around nine a.m., and we can hike up to the Ridge. I’ll bring a picnic lunch for us so it will look authentic.”
“Great! Thank you so much for doing this.”
“I think I’m the one who should thank you.”
But since these were virgins, I wanted to be fully prepared. I drove down to the nearby town on Saturday night and bought a six-pack of condoms, a tube of K-Y jelly, two bottles of inexpensive white wine, a cheap bottle of champagne, and a package of paper cups.. If taking these two girls’ cherries was improper, certainly plying them with a little wine would not add much more to the offense list. I also bought a new white sheet. While the bunks in the cabin had mattresses, they did not have sheets or blankets. The following morning, I also picked up three fresh-made deli sandwiches.
I met Cathy and Becca about a quarter of a mile outside of the camp on the trail. Both of them were wearing matching khaki shorts, while Becca had on a yellow short sleeve jersey, and Cathy had a matching blue one.
“It’s beautiful day!” Cathy said.
“Yes.” Just right for picking cherries, I thought.
The incline up the trail was not that steep, so it took us only an hour to reach the cabin, and as I had expected, it was unlocked.
“This is the place,” I said, as I unpacked the gear onto the table in the middle of the room. “I bought us some sandwiches and some nice white wine. Would you girls both like a glass of wine to help you relax?”
“YES!” they both replied in unison.
I poured wine into the paper cups for all three of us, and we had a toast.
“To no more virgins!” Cathy said.
“To no more virgins,” I agreed.
“How are we going to do this?” Becca asked after we all had two glasses of wine.
“Well, I’ll take you one at a time, starting with you, Becca, into the bedroom over there. I’ve got a nice clean sheet that I brought with me. So we’ll do it there.”
“I want to watch!” Cathy said.
“You can’t watch,” Becca replied. “This is private.”
“I’m your best friend!”
“Oh okay, but then I get to watch you.”
“Well, I think the first thing we ought to do is for everyone to get naked,” I said, drinking the last of my wine. I took off my clothes and enjoyed the view, as I watched them undress. They placed their clothes on two of the chairs beside the table until both of them were naked. Neither one of them seemed to be shy about displaying themselves, and they both had what appeared to be little trimmed muffs of the same size, one blonde, one brunette.
“Come with me, my dear,” I said, picking up the wrapped sheet and the tube of K-Yand taking Becca’s hand. I led her into the bedroom, and Cathy followed. I opened the package, spread the sheet nicely over the single-bunk mattress, and motioned for Becca to lie down. She climbed on the bed, lay down on her back and spread her lovely legs. Cathy sat in the wooden chair at the end of the bed, and that gave me an idea.
“Cathy, why don’t you prep me a little,” I suggested, holding up my growing penis and crossing to her. I didn’t have to spell it out for her. She took my cock n her mouth and started to suck it like she was auditioning for a porn movie. Within a few minutes, I was as hard as I was ever going to get.
Holding the tube of K-Y, I crawled between Becca’s legs. “I have some lubricant here that I’m going to apply to the both of us,” I said. “This will make it a lot more comfortable for you.”
I squeezed some of the K-Y out on my first two fingers and gently inserted them into the tight but warm fold of Becca’s pussy. She drew in a little breath. Pushing a little further, I could feel the obstruction that I would have to overcome. I pulled out my fingers and used some more K-Y to grease up my cherry-picking pole.
“Put your heels on my shoulders,” I said. She raised her feet and put her heels on my shoulders, thus putting her tight little pussy in a perfect lineup with my cock. I squeezed my turgid cock into her tight pussy and saw her bite her lip. “This will only hurt for a few seconds,” I said. And then I plunged into her as hard as I could. She gasped, but I bent over to seal her mouth with a forceful kiss. And still kissing her, I plunged back and forth into her, destroying any shred of her virginity.
Finally, we were finished. I had deliberately refraining from cumming inside of her. I was saving that for Cathy.
“Wow!” Cathy said, as she surveyed the wreckage. I had pulled my cock out of Becca, and it was red with blood, as were the outside of her peach-fuzz lips. “How do you feel?” Cathy asked.
“Like a real woman,” Becca said with a smile.
“Did it hurt?”
“Only a little at first, but then it was nice.”
“I’m going to take a shower and clean up,” I said, climbing out of the bed, “But you’re next, Cathy.”
“I’ll be waiting,” she said.
“Can I take a shower with you?” Becca asked.
She climbed out of the bed and followed me into the bathroom. We did not mention it to Cathy afterwards, but at Becca’s insistence in the shower, I fucked her again, standing up, and she seemed to enjoy it even more. But again, I held off from coming.
“Your turn,” I said to Cathy as I came out of the shower.
“Can I have another glass of the wine first?” she asked.
She went out to the main room, poured it and drained it quickly. Then she came back into the bedroom. Becca had come out of the bathroom and followed us. Cathy laid down in the bed, spread her legs a little, and Becca sat down in the same chair Cathy had occupied.
“Prime time,” I said to Becca, displaying my cock. She also sucked it like a pro, and it was hard to tell which one of them I liked more.
When I was as hard as I was going to get, I turned and got on the bed. “Put your heels on my shoulders,” I said to Cathy.
She did so, and I took two fingerfuls of the K-Y and slipped my fingers into her. I realized I could have enjoyed doing just this with the two of them all night, but Cathy was the one I wanted to fuck the most. I greased up my pole. “Do you want me to fuck you?” I asked her.
“Then you have to ask me.”
“Please,” she said, “Please fuck me.”
“Fuck you hard?”
“Fuck me hard.”
That was all the encouragement I needed. I stuffed my cock into her, saw her wince, then I rammed it in all the way to the hilt until our pubic hairs met.
“Ow!” she cried. But again, I smothered her cries with my kisses. When I knew that the cries were over, I slowly pistoned it in and out of her for a good ten minutes—and then I finally came inside of her. I pulled it out of her and again saw the red evidence on both of us.
“Now you’re a woman too,” Becca said.
Cathy and I also got to enjoy a shower together, but I did not get to fuck her a second time.
Fifteen minutes later, we were all sitting around the table, naked as jaybirds, and enjoying the celebratory bottle of champagne.
“We did it!” Becca cried, giving Cathy a high five.
And that’s when the door opened. We had not even heard anyone come up. It was a scout master, in full uniform and with his back to us.
“This is where we’ll be staying for the night,” he said to a troop of what appeared to be ten boy scouts in uniform. “I think you’ll find it to be very nice.”
They found it to be very nice all right. The ones closest to the door were staring at us in gape-mouthed wonder. I stood as the scout master turned.
“Oh my God,” he said, “I didn’t know anyone was here.”
“It’s the…nudist weekend,” I said, realizing that was the lamest excuse in the world.
But he apparently believed it. “We have to get out of here,” the scoutmaster said, as he closed the door. But some of the scouts looked like they would have rather stayed.
Cathy and Becca doubled over with laughter.
“We could have had a gang bang!” Becca said, still laughing.
The next day, I was worried that the scout master would have reported us to the owners of the camp, but in fact it never happened. The Adirondacks is famous for its beautiful views, and I guess he felt he was lucky to have stumbled on one of them.
Now, hanging in a frame on my wall is a square of white with some rust-red splotches on it. When people ask me what it is, I tell them: “A souvenir of cherry-picking.”
Let them figure it out.