OSL Morris CampChapter 4 Aurora
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OSL: Morris CampChapter 5: Conversations free porn video
-- NOVEMBER 6 --
"Balcony?" I suggested as Nick and I met up outside the staff cabin. "We'd better hurry, though. The sun is dropping fast." Indeed, Daylight Savings had ended on October 30, and the sun had been setting around 5pm ever since. We had just enough time to hike out there, enjoy the view, and then get back by 5:30pm chow time.
Nick checked his watch and nodded to me. He then stepped off the porch and took two steps before turning around and looking back for me. "You gonna be warm enough? It's getting colder and colder these days."
I hugged myself in my fleece sweater and nodded as I hopped down from the porch and stopped alongside him. "Thanks for your concern, but I'll be fine."
Together, we started down the trail. It wasn't very narrow – not while we were still within the camp boundaries – but I found myself walking rather close to him. Our fingers brushed by accident a couple of times, the first one causing Nick to blush and move aside. The second one really wasn't an accident, since I'd rather purposely closed the gap between us once more.
Exactly WHAT are you doing, young lady?
The truth was: I didn't know. I certainly had no romantic designs on Nick. Yeah, we were friends and I considered him my best friend at camp by now, even moreso than my own roommate. But our relationship was a platonic one, and besides, he was still porking Deedee several times a week.
Not that I minded ... well, not really. I liked seeing Nick happy, and since he was able to burn off his typically male hormones with someone else, he was able to be around me without any of that uncomfortable sexual tension that so often gets in the way of male-female friendships. Being someone else's booty call was GOOD for our relationship, and I desperately needed him more as a friend than as anything else.
But I'd be lying if said I wasn't curious.
Let's start with the obvious: Deedee was smokin' hot. I wouldn't put her in a category with Adrienne or DJ for pure fuckability, but she was still a curvaceous blonde bombshell with a very pretty face. Even I had to admit she was the most desirable female in camp...
Well, except for you, if you'd ever go back to being yourself.
Shut up, you.
Anyway, as I was saying, Deedee was hot. And Nick, as much as I liked him, was not in her league. He was in good enough shape now that nobody could call him "Fat Nick" anymore, and he was one of the strongest guys in camp for pure power. I certainly thought he was handsome, with a nice jaw line, good skin tone, and warm, considerate eyes that could look into the back of your soul and raise all sorts of butterflies that would flutter around your stomach and...
Anyway, as I was saying, Nick was a decent enough guy, but he wasn't in Deedee's league. He had been so cute and nervous when practically asking my permission to sleep with her. I remembered my initial analysis of the situation, figuring that the busty blonde just wanted to get laid and figured the most pathetic guy in camp would keep his mouth shut about it if he wanted seconds. At the time, I'd assumed she'd use him for a little while and then cast him aside when she got bored, like so many other beautiful women I'd known and seen over the years. Even when she showed up the next morning at our breakfast table, publicly announcing Nick as her "boyfriend", I was sure the whole arrangement wouldn't last.
And yet, a month later they were going on as strong as ever, stronger even.
It was a purely physical relationship, Nick assured me, and I believed him, because Nick never lied to me. They met, they screwed, they went their separate ways. Sure, there were some pleasantries bookending the fuck, but nothing serious. He certainly didn't confide in her, the way he did in me. At least, I didn't think so...
And yet, they were still going. And whenever I saw her, Deedee looked far from bored. If anything, she looked supremely satisfied.
Was he some super-being in bed? Unlikely. Surely there could only be one Ben in the world.
Was he perfectly adequate? Perhaps. A girl like Deedee certainly would have a little experience in such matters. And for her to be "supremely satisfied" for this long without moving on to the next guy? Well, Nick had to be at least perfectly adequate.
And I couldn't help but wonder how perfectly adequate he might be with me.
Those are your hormones talking. Listen to your conscience. You're here for a reason, and Nick is NOT IT.
I thought you were supposed to be tempting me to give IN to my urges.
That's your devil inside. She's on a coffee break. I'm your angel.
Oh, relax. I'm not going to DO anything about it.
Of course you're not. That would be betraying Ben.
{{Even though Ben isn't here, and is probably surrounded in bed by a dozen Tri-Delts, Kim Fukuzaki, and your sisters at this very moment.}}
Hey, what the-?
{{Coffee break over, bitch.}}
Shut up, both of you!
{{I'm just sayin': Nick is certainly doing a better job satisfying Deedee than Big Ben and Pocket Rocket have been doing for you.}}
Shut UP!
You're horny. We get it. But the real you is above these physical urges. Focus on the pure.
{{Purity was Perfect You's shtick. Been there. Failed that.}}
A single failure is no reason to go and throw away your entire future with your soulmate.
{{C'mon, can we just get LAID once while we're up here? I'm not talking long-term. I'm not even talking commitment. Just one, single, fucking GOOD orgasm, huh? When was the last time we had one of those?}}
Last night was perfectly good climax.
{{Last night it took Big Ben in the cunt, Pocket Rocket on the clit, AND a Nick-centered fantasy to get that climax.}}
OKAY ... We are stopping that train of thought right there!
"Hey, you alright?"
I blinked and looked up. Nick was about three steps in front of me on the trail, giving me an odd look. Only then did I realize that I had quite literally stopped in my tracks, and I blushed in momentary embarrassment.
"You looked pretty lost in thought there for a bit," he said with a smile. And shrugging, he reached a hand out to me.
Automatically, I walked forward, reached out, and took it. Feeling the firm warmth of his fingers as they entwined around mine, I looked into his warm, considerate eyes. Those butterflies I mentioned set to fluttering in my belly, and a smile spread across my lips.
"C'mon, we're almost there," he said.
I nodded and fell into step with him, feeling a bolt of energy shoot up my arm from the point at which our hands met. And together, we walked about a hundred yards until we turned the corner and came upon The Balcony.
"Beautiful," he murmured.
I turned to look at him and found his eyes on me.
Did he just call me beautiful?
But then his eyes went forward and he nodded toward the horizon, where the sky was awash in a brilliant tapestry of colors: golds and oranges and reds swirling across the landscape in a pattern that was even more breathtaking than usual. From the sun's low position, I figured we only had a few more minutes until sunset. And still with our hands together, we stood side-by-side in silence and watched nature's beauty entertain us.
"Hey! I KNEW I'd find you guys here."
Deedee's voice startled us, and our hands dropped as we turned to see Miss Bigtits skip up into the clearing. Her eyes went straight to Nick, and sliding both arms around his waist, she pressed her chest against his and looked up into his eyes. "Hey you, got time for a quickie?"
Nick's eyes popped as he glanced at me and then back at his 'girlfriend'. "What, now?"
She nodded. "Been such a busy day of work and I've got all this steam to blow off. I was thinking about your ... uh..." Her voice trailed off as she glanced back at me with a blush. And then she leaned in and whispered the rest to him, all of it inaudible except for the last exclaimed " ... all day!"
Still with her arms around him, Deedee glanced back at me. "You don't mind, do you? We'll meet up again for dinner."
"Uh, no. Sure. You two go right on ahead," my mouth answered while my brain railed inside my head, No! Bitch! Leave me my man and go fucking find your own!
"Great! See you later!" she said perkily and then literally dragged Nick away with her. He gave me a shrug and a wave, and then was gone, pulled off balance by his randy girlfriend.
Looking after them, I sighed. I didn't WANT to miss him, but I kinda did. I didn't want to LIKE him, but I kinda did. I didn't WANT to feel jealous of his time with her ... but I do.
Get your head straight, girlie. It's a GOOD thing that Deedee's around to distract him. You've been way too Nick-obsessed these last couple of weeks. It's not healthy. He's better off with someone else, or at least, YOU'RE better off if he's with someone else.
You're right. You're right. This is my chance to re-focus myself. This is my opportunity to make myself a better person, not to get infatuated with someone other than my soulmate. Nick is a temptation – sure, a temptation I wasn't expecting given his initial pathetic-ness – but a temptation all the same. And that Nick-centered fantasy I had last night with Big Ben and Pocket Rocket was a step in the WRONG direction.
This is your fresh start. Don't you ever forget that. Let them go. Let HIM go. Nick started off being a safe friend who wouldn't hit on you. He became a safe companion to give you unthreatening company so you wouldn't feel lonely. But he's becoming dangerously more than that, and you've got to nip this in the bud before it gets any worse.
This is my fresh start.
This is my fresh start.
This is my fresh start.
And it's high time I got real serious about it.
-- NOVEMBER 7 --
NOW you've done it. Stupid, emotional, irrational woman. Why the hell did you go and pick a fight with him?
Because he's being a blockhead!
About what? Making the best of his situation?
For not taking this blank slate opportunity seriously!
C'mon, are you mad because NICK isn't taking it seriously, or because YOU aren't?
...
I'm waiting...
And you're not going anywhere. You're inside my head.
True dat.
If you're saying I overreacted-
I am.
Sigh ... Fine. Whatever.
Sounds like your approach to 'finding yourself'.
And what's THAT supposed to mean?
I mean, exactly what have you been doing to better yourself, other than shutting everyone out and twiddling your thumbs while waiting for the Mystical Morris Camp to magically make everything better?
I'm not just twiddling my thumbs.
No, you're just pining over a soulmate you're not even entirely sure is your soulmate while pretending to not be attracted to a very nice guy who's banging the same kind of hot blonde you USED to be.
And your point is... ?
Take your own advice. Step back from the world and consider the person you've become. This is your opportunity to recognize, and to change yourself for the better.
That's what I've been DOING.
Stepping back from the world ... maybe. You've certainly walked away from modern life and shunned most human contact. But considering the person you've become? When was the last time you had an honest evaluation of what turned you into the so-called Fallen Angel?
I talked about all that, with Gwen and Robin on the road trip.
So ... several months ago ... and not once since you arrived here, that about cover it?.
Well ... I...
Recognize WHY you did what you did. Was it because you ENJOYED those things? Or was it because they were the OPPOSITE of the carefully constructed "Perfect You"?
I don't know.
Don't know? Or don't WANT to face those things again?
Why should I?
Wasn't that the whole point of coming here?
The point was to start fresh, blank slate.
'Blank slate' is a pipe dream. You are who you are now because of who you WERE before. Trying to be someone completely new out of the ether is impossible. You've first got to figure out who you WERE before you can figure out who you will BECOME.
When the fuck did you get so smart? Aren't you just ... well ... me?
I am. And I am proving my own point. If you were truly a blank slate, I wouldn't be here. But I am here, and I am the collective experience you have accumulated over your entire lifetime. I am the wisdom your parents – who love you dearly and miss you at this very moment – have instilled in you. I AM your past, and I'm honestly here to help. You just haven't wanted to listen to me.
Because the past is painful.
Of course it is, otherwise you'd still be in Berkeley with your sisters, and with him. So back to the why: Why did you do those things? Because you WANTED to be like that? Or because you were trying to destroy 'Perfect You'?
Well ... maybe both.
Now we're getting somewhere. But this is just scratching the surface. Do you really understand why you want to destroy 'Perfect You'? I mean really, apart from the cheating, what was so bad about being you? You were nice to people.
I kept my snarky comments to myself instead of blurting them out loud.
You were a motivated student.
To the point of valuing my perfect GPA over my relationship.
You always strove to do the right thing.
Until I couldn't handle it anymore and went out of my way to to do very WRONG things.
Well, there IS that ... So let's start there. We're going to have to look at every horrible thing you did to the people you truly cared about, and we're going to have to examine WHY you did them and figure out how you can make amends.
Greaaat.
And we can start with an easy one. You overreacted with Nick today. You need to apologize to him.
Nodding, I took a deep breath and sighed, saying aloud, "Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to enjoy the next couple of hours?"
Because it's real. And sometimes reality hurts.
-- NOVEMBER 9 --
"So I was thinking," Nick began, which drew my attention away from the setting sun and over to him. "I was thinking about what you said the other day, about me seeing this as an opportunity to really think about what got me here in the first place, and to understand how to change myself for the better."
I nodded with interest. It was a topic I had spent much of the last two days on myself.
"But the truth is: I'm not really sure I see it that way."
I frowned. "You're not?" That didn't make sense. One of the things that had led me to spend more time with Nick at first was that I felt a sort of kinship with him. We'd both made mistakes in our past, and though our reasons for being here were rather different, we did both have the time to reflect and improve and the opportunity for a fresh start.
But Nick didn't seem to think so. He explained that he was fully aware of his initial unsuitability for being a ranch hand. But most of his problems were physical, and those had been more or less corrected through hard work and repeated exercise. Along the way, he had gained an appreciation for the simpler things in life, recognizing that he didn't really NEED the luxuries he'd depended upon before. But ultimately, he seemed to think he could just go back home and pick up where he left off as the person he used to be.
And maybe he could. In little more than two months, the program had seemingly done exactly what his parents had hoped for: It had toughened him up. It had built character. Nick wanted to make sure I didn't think he was an asshole anymore, and truly, he wasn't.
Nick was a good person. I knew that, felt it deep in my core. I made no claims to being an excellent judge of character or anything, but I thought I had a pretty good asshole-radar, born of years and years of fending off the unwanted advances of bad boys, pretty boys, and unrepentant jerks in general. Nick was no asshole. He had been a fish-out-of-water city-boy wearing too much cologne who didn't get enough regular exercise, but he'd cleaned up pretty well over these last several weeks. Not even scoring a hottie like Deedee for a girlfriend had turned him into strutting peacock.
So was that it? Did Morris Camp work its magic and turn Fat Nick into a genuinely nice guy?
Perhaps, but there was one unresolved blip on his resume: the car accident. Nothing in his personality would have told me he'd be capable of something like that. Nothing in all our friendship would make me believe he could ever come perilously close to killing a bunch of people.
Then again, I rather doubted that anything Nick knew about me would lead him to believe I could be a wanton slut who'd cheated on her boyfriend and gotten off on triple-penetrations.
But Nick had been an open book, the exact opposite of my invented personality and closed-off demeanor. I knew him. I KNEW him. So why didn't things add up?
"Why'd you do it?" I asked out of the blue, only now realizing that I'd zoned out for a bit in my contemplation.
Nick, ever patient, was right with me despite the interlude in our conversation. I watched him look inside himself, doing the math and realizing things didn't add up, searching for that mysterious variable that would balance the equation and explain the catastrophic lapse in judgment. But all he had was, "I don't know."
What was inside of me? How would I reconcile the differences between Perfect Me, Wallflower Marie, and Wanton Slut? What was the catalyst? What made me do what I'd done?
I didn't know, so all I could reply to him was, "Me, neither. And that's what we need to figure out."
-- NOVEMBER 14 --
"Whew ... Is it hot in here, or just me?" Deedee sighed, wiping the sweat off her brow.
"It's hot," Melanie agreed from across the room.
"Hey, you think if we deliberately make them think we can't cook, they'll keep us off kitchen duty the rest of the year?" Sunny chirped from her station, where she was cutting up vegetables.
"No, you'll still be rotated to kitchen duty. Only they'll make you take out the trash and mop the floors," I commented dryly.
"Ugh," Sunny groaned and resumed dicing.
I smiled and focused on my pot. Part of the ranch hand program involved cross-training all the staff on pretty much EVERYTHING that needed to be done at Morris Camp, so that if any one person went down he or she could easily be replaced. So even though I would have been perfectly content to spend every single day at the stables with Cilantro, Aurora, and the others, I still had to spend time in the kitchen, in the cabins, and even the bathrooms.
The four of us were on kitchen duty for the week, which meant that we were making breakfast, lunch, and dinner for everyone. I rather enjoyed cooking, and thanked my mother once again for teaching me (almost) everything she knew. Having built on that knowledge with the cooking class I took in school, I was as comfortable here as I was anywhere else, and some of the other girls (well, Deedee and Sunny) were almost constantly looking to me for help.
Back in September, I would have been uncomfortable in such a situation, preferring to remain in the background. But by now, everyone knew me and everyone knew not to pry into my personal history. We all got along as acquaintances if not friends, and when it came to the kitchen, I didn't really mind being in a position to mentor the others. The others came, they asked their questions, and they liked me better for my answers even as they turned and left me alone. After a couple of months being on the outside and thought of as a little weird, it was rather nice to be liked.
Deedee, especially, was being nice to me. Well, she'd started being nice to me when she and Nick hooked up, but that only made sense. After all, making nice with the friends of your boyfriend is usually a requirement for the relationship to last, isn't it? But she had been extra nice for the past week or so. She'd gone out of her way to chat me up, to try and pull me out of my shell, and she did it with a friendly demeanor and subtle charm that had me spilling details before I realized I was spilling them.
Part of me didn't want to like her. After all, she was the girl fucking the guy I felt like I had some claim over. In the course of my introspection over the past week, I had come to terms with my attraction to Nick. In another world, in another life, I might have started a relationship with him. He was warm, honest, and very respectful of me. He had many qualities that I liked, and I thought he was physically appealing in his own way. That I couldn't actually have him was irrelevant; I couldn't control being attracted to him, only what actions I took because of it. So I accepted that I liked him, and I accepted that I would always be a little jealous over him, but I was determined not to let it interfere with my relationship with him OR with his girlfriend.
Instead, I focused on the qualities I DID like about Deedee. She WAS friendly, and funny, and enjoyable to be around. She kept up a lively conversation at the dinner table, bantering with Aaron and zinging Zoey right back at her. She was fully aware of her physical appeal and had a disarming way of mocking her own attractiveness without seeming smug. And she made Nick happy; that was important.
And if I really had to admit it to myself, I was sort of attracted to her as well.
In owning up to my past, I recognized that I had always been bisexual. From the first time I hit puberty, I had found myself attracted to both boys and girls. I appreciated the aesthetic physicality of a broad, manly chest as well as a nice, shapely bosom. And of course, there were my deeply satisfying sexual liaisons with my own sisters and other women around me.
I remembered being a teenager and feeling like that part of me wasn't "proper". "Good girls" were straight and narrow, and fucking other girls just shouldn't be a part of "Perfect Me". I never acted on any attractions to my friends, especially my best friend Tricia. Those unholy urges I buried below, acting them out only within the safety of my own home first with Dayna and then eventually DJ after Ben awoke the sexual creature inside me. There were a lot of sexual urges I didn't think were "proper", like the urges to seduce Tri-Delts, try butt-fucking and eventually triple-penetrations, and eventually to have sex one-on-one with someone who wasn't my boyfriend. "Good girls" didn't do those things, but then doing them with Ben didn't seem so wrong, and it was a slippery slope beyond that.
"Proper" didn't have a place with me anymore. "Perfect Me" no longer existed. But that didn't necessarily mean I WANTED to do drugs, have sex with random strangers, or pull trains in seedy back rooms. In fact, I was pretty sure I didn't want to do ANY of those things. And let's not even approach water sports.
But I AM bisexual, and that will always be a part of me. It could not be erased in some attempt to remake myself. Even if I swore off other girls, I knew my instincts would continue to lead me toward them. And so I couldn't help but notice that Deedee was a very sexually desirable woman, even to another girl.
She reminded me of Adrienne with her curves, self-confidence, and presence, and that reminder only fueled my arousal. If I fantasized about Nick from time to time while driving Big Ben up my pussy, well, I fantasized about Deedee a couple of times while rubbing myself as well. I noticed when her towel slipped in the bathroom, showing me a quick flash of her turgid nipple. I found myself glancing over when she bent at the waist to pick something up off the floor. And I could smell the scent of her perfume when she leaned into me to share some witty comment or when I helped show her the right angle for chopping onions this morning.
Her eyes kept watering from the onions, which dampened her mood. And she wasn't being very careful to hold the vegetables properly, which led to off-center and uneven strips. I told her to hold it straight, and when that didn't seem to work, I stood alongside her and cut up one myself just to show her.
But Deedee took things a step further. Placing a foot between mine, she moved herself between me and the table. Then taking hold of the knife, she placed my right hand on top of hers, and asked me in a small voice, "Show me again?"
I didn't think much of it, feeling more annoyed than awkward by this point. I mean really, how hard is it to cut an onion? So I just gripped her hand and lined her up, letting her do the actual cutting after I placed the knife each time. And I also reached around with my left hand to correct her hold on each onion.
It took me a minute to realize just how closely pressed we were in this position. I was maybe an inch taller than her, but the height difference wasn't enough to make our arm lengths match while I was standing behind her. My chest ended up firmly pushed up against her back, and my big boobs were getting in the way. And it didn't help when she seemingly backed her ass up against my crotch, leaned her head back, and ... sniffed ... at me.
My nose had suddenly been filled with the scent of something fruity ... peach? And when I looked down at her in confusion, our eyes met with a sizzle of electricity for just a moment.
Flustered, I immediately let go of both her hands and backed away. "Uh, yeah. I think you've got it," I stammered.
She sort of blushed demurely and coyly turned away, her face rotating toward the table but her eyes flashing back toward me. I simply turned around, forcing myself to concentrate on my own station while I took a deep, calming breath.
For the rest of the day, I noticed that Deedee kept finding little ways to show off her body and pose sexily just for me. She went out of her way to touch me, little pats here or a meeting of our hands there. I kept watching her, and realized she wasn't doing those things with Sunny or Melanie ... just me. She also kept glancing over to see if I was checking her out, which ... well ... I was. But then it was time to serve lunch, which we did, and Deedee went back to her normal self as we interacted with our friends and ate our meals.
During cleanup duty after lunch, I started watching her to see if she continued ... messing with me ... for lack of a better term. She'd been flaunting herself deliberately, and yet the moment the lunch bell sounded she had turned off like a switch had been thrown. And now as we went into kitchen clean-up, that switch didn't turn back on. Deedee remained friendly, but the ... flirting ... stopped.
We had a break for the afternoon, and went our separate ways. Nick was working and I decided to go for an introspective walk on my own. I thought about everything: myself, my past self, my feelings for Nick, and what the hell was going on with Deedee.
But then it was back to the kitchen to prepare dinner. And as the ovens fired up for baking, despite the cold temperatures outside it started to get very warm inside. Deedee made her comment about it getting hot. Melanie agreed with her. And Sunny began plotting how to get out of kitchen duty for the summer.
And then Deedee took her shirt off.
Seriously. One moment she was wiping her brow of sweat, the next minute she said "Fuck it" and whipped her shirt over her head.
HELLO! HOLY MAMMARIES AT TWO O'CLOCK!
I didn't actually know if Deedee was her real name or a nickname in reference to her tits. My eye calculated that those things really WERE Double-D cups, 36DD to be precise. Of course, it could be just a really good push-up bra, but I'd gotten enough glimpses of them in the showers to think they were all her. Today, Deedee had those big hooters AND a very nice bra, which led to massive amounts of cleavage put on full display.
Now some girls who like girls like a feminine body to be built for speed. They either like 'em butch, like a man, or just slender and fit. Tits were supposedly a male-lust thing, while we lesbian-inclined appreciated a firm tush and a well-groomed pussy.
Me? I liked 'em curvy. Chalk it up to my first Sapphic experiences being with Dayna. Or maybe I was just wired that way. It certainly meant I appreciated Ben's taste in women. For my entire life, I'd understood perfectly well the reasons why guys lusted after the big-titted hotties, and there was one staring me right in the face right now.
No, seriously. Deedee stood there with her hands on her hips, staring straight at me with a challenging expression as if to say, 'Yes, here they are. I DARE you not to ogle them.'
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