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Summer Camp

My parents sent me off to summer camp against my protests. I thought it would be horrible. These were all kids from my high school, and although I liked most of them, I figured I had already seen enough of them while I was in school. I wanted the summer to myself.

There were 31 boys, 3 adults, and two guys who were our ‘counselors.’ These two guys were 18 years old, and to us, even though most of us were only three years younger, they seemed almost like adults. both Brian and Joe were tall, thin, and athletic. They seemed so sure of themselves. I’m sure girls swooned over them. The two guys were obviously good friends, like they had probably grown up together.

Right from the first day, we saw practically nothing of the adults. They didn’t interact with us kids, and seemed very disinterested in the camp, sitting in the office cabin every day reading paperbacks. So, it was Brian and Joe who organized everything, and to whom we came if we had personal matters.

On the third afternoon, at the end of our swimming session (skinny dipping at the edge of the lake), Joe announced that one of the kids came to him, and he wasn’t going to say who, with a problem, that he was sure many of us were dealing with in secret. Our ears perked up. He went on to say that the kid had been worried about his sexual orientation. I quietly freaked out. That’s exactly what I had been going through lately, but I really didn’t want such things discussed in public.

Then Brian took over. “So, we have arranged a test. It’s a sexuality test. Oh, don’t worry, it’s not like a written test or anything. It will be fun.” I couldn’t imagine what he was talking about, but I was sure I wanted no part of it! Once he explained the rules, I was doubly sure. Then, he sickenly said that no one was allowed to skip the test. “This is an important group activity,” he added.

We walked in a big, still-naked group over to the communal shower cabin. It was fairly warm out, and the slight cat’s paw of a breeze was refreshing against my butt, and against my penis. I had been struggling with making sure not to get a boner the whole time we were splashing and playing around, and now, I had to work even harder to stay soft. I didn’t realize it then, but most or maybe all of the other boys were going through the same thing at the same time.

When we got to the shower house, Brian and Joe has us line up by the one shower that had a hand-held wand on the end of a hose. Joe turned it on and adjusted the temperature to fairly warm. He then aimed at the first boy in the line. He turned it to the massage pulse setting, and shot it right at the kid’s penis. Meanwhile Brian grabbed the boy’s dick and held it up so the spray was going directly on it. It was hitting his penis right on the underside of the head where it joins the shaft, the area called the frenulum. I couldn’t believe it. Brian was handling the boy’s junk! Oh my, I’d have to work even harder to avoid becoming erect. Let’s see, ‘2 + 2 = 4, 4 + 4 = 8, 8 + 8 = 16…’

The boy’s penis was held in the stream for exactly one minute. He didn’t become erect. That was the test, you see. We had been told by Joe and Brian, and we believed it at the time, that boys who didn’t become erect after a minute were straight. Boys became erect were bisexual, and those who ejaculated under this treatment were gay.

Now it was the second boy’s turn. He became erect. I noticed too, that his cheeks were very red at the end of the test. As soon as his test was over he walked briskly to the back of the room where he could join the first boy, and wrap himself in a towel. I noticed that his dick was still erect, and waving back and forth in front of him as he walked past us. ’64 + 64 is 128, 128 + 128…’

I was fourth in line. I couldn’t hold out, and became erect as soon as Brian touched my penis. I thought the pulsing stream of water against my dick would hurt, or at least not feel good. It felt great! Too great! Spurt after spurt of cum came dashing out of my penis, right there in front of 30 other boys and our counselors. I was so ashamed. “Gay,” Brian announced way too loudly.

By the end of the test, 8 boys had been proclaimed ‘bisexual.’ I was the only one who was called ‘gay.’ Oh, how could I possibly live through the rest of summer camp? During the school year, and even in the first days of camp, ‘gay’ was considered a bad thing. Any boy who spoke in a high voice, or held his wrists the wrong way, was mocked as being gay. I was fucking doomed. Dead!

But there was nothing I could do. During dinner, I was expecting to be teased or worse, maybe kids would look at me and snicker, or maybe they’d at least scowl. Certainly they wouldn’t talk to me.

I was so wrong. Two of the ‘straight’ kids, ones that I thought were particularly cool, joined me at the table. They were talking about just ordinary stuff, but it seemed almost as if they seeked me out. No one made fun of me. No scowls. It was OK.

In my cabin, as we went to sleep, the three other boys were asking me all sorts of stupid questions, but it was almost as if I was a minor celebrity. “What’s it like to be gay?” Kevin asked, as if I was some sort of special person. I had to admit that I had no idea about anything. That’s what I told them. I also said I didn’t really think I was gay. They acted as if they didn’t want to hear that. Weird, eh?

During the rest of the stay at the summer camp, I had a really, really good time. Everyone wanted to be my friend, especially Joe and Brian. They were even granting me special favors, which was sort of embarrassing. It didn’t occur to me until months later when I awoke from a strangely sexual dream, in which Brian and Joe were in a summer camp setting, but it was a room full of girls not boys, and they turned to each other, and I guess they were going to suck each others dicks. But I woke up, with the sudden realization that the two of them must have been homosexual. Not that it mattered. My whole attitude about the whole ‘gay’ thing had changed. I still wasn’t sure whether I was gay, but it really didn’t matter any more.

I should tell you that after the sexual orientation test at the summer camp, there were a couple of changes. On the fourth day, and thereafter, during our daily skinny dipping, some of the boys would sit on logs and openly masturbate right there in front of us all. To my surprise, these weren’t necessarily the ones marked as ‘bisexual.’ Some of the straight boys did. And a couple of times, they even masturbated each other. The other change was that we could openly jerk off in our cabin at night. No more hiding under the sheets. It was a little scary the first time, maybe around the 7th day, that I jerked myself off at the edge of the lake, along with a few other boys. It took me a while to become erect. I guess mild fear does that to a person. When I ejaculated into the sand, they cheered.

So, that was my one and only summer camp. I begged my parents to let me go back the following summer, but they said they couldn’t afford it. When I offered to earn the money, they laughed. They were right, there was no way I could earn that kind of money in a few short weeks.

I’ve been happily married for quite a while now. My wife knows all about me being ‘gay.’ I told her how having been labeled as such, I had to explore, and did have relationships with a couple of guys. That was interesting, and I liked having buddies I could jerk off with, but it didn’t really work out. They always wanted to blow me, begged me to suck them, but I just wasn’t into it. Oh, I did enjoy seeing their erections and seeing them cum, but that was that. And, I have to admit I’ve done oral sex both ways with guys, and it wasn’t awful. In fact, I rather enjoyed it, although I don’t like the taste or texture of cum. So, I guess blowjobs are alright, but they really aren’t my thing. As to anal sex, no fucking way. I’m sorry, I just wasn’t into it.

My kids, Nicole and Brian (it’s a coincidence, OK?) are just getting to the age where they might enjoy summer camp. I’ll make sure they get the opportunity. Of course I’ve never discussed the intimate details of my time at summer camp with them, but I secretly hope they have as good a time – although hopefully less embarrassing – as I did. I hope they get to go skinny dipping, jerk off, or jill with the girls, in Nicole’s case, in the group on logs by the side of the lake, just like I did.

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