Date: Fri, 29 Jun 2007 07:57:30 -0400 (EDT)
From: Herb Cat <herb_cat@lycos.com>
Subject: Ten-year olds at Camp Pt 2

Copyright 2007 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without
the author's permission.

Please note: this story depicts oral and anal sex between male adults and
male minors. If this offends you or is illegal to publish in your
jurisdiction, or you are under the age of 18, read no further.

The characters, locations and incidents in this story are fictional. Any
resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.

As an author, I welcome feedback on my writing. Please send any comments
about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank
you.

-----

"Now then, Chris, I think it's time our new friends learned the Mighty
Fine Song."

"Yeah, good idea, Doc. OK, listen up, boys, this is how it goes." In
resonant baritone, Chris and Doc belted out the first verse:

I got a nose that is mighty fine!
I got a nose that is mighty fine!
Nobody's nose is better than mine!
Don't you think my nose is mighty fine?

"OK, now, everybody sing. Let me hear what a great choir we got. I got a
nose that is mighty fine! I got a nose that is mighty fine! No, no. You
call that singing? Come on, guys, we're going to camp! You can sing
louder than that! Let's start again." This time, all seven voices in the
car sang it lustily, if not on key. "Much, much, better, now, this time,
hold your nose when you sing. Then I'll teach you the second part. OK,
everybody sing." Now the boys were really getting into it. Each put his
hand over his nose which gave the singing a nasal twang, but it was still
exuberant. After the last line, which was a question, Doc and Chris sang,
"Y E S!" giving it a long firmata. Then they sang the second part:

You got a nose that is mighty fine!
And I got a nose that is mighty fine!
I'll hold yours and you hold mine!
We both got a nose that is mighty fine!

Chris explained on the second part, instead of holding your own nose, you
hold the nose of the guy next to you and he holds yours. Chris got
everyone paired up, the two in the back, the two on his right, and then
Wes would be Chris's partner. Doc pretended to cry he had no partner and
everyone laughed. Chris told him he had to keep his hands on the wheel
anyway. They all sang the second part with the hands reaching over to
their neighbors' noses. Wes delighted in holding Chrisâ^À^Ùs nose, which
had sort of a hump in the middle, but not nearly as much as Chris loved
holding Wesâ^À^Ùs miniature ski jump. The boys were all giggling again.

Right away, the grown-ups started the next verse: I got an ear that is
mighty fine! The kids caught on quickly holding their ears. Then after a
long, long YES, they reached out and held their partners' ears. Chris had
a gold stud in his.

Then came, I got a head that is mighty fine! Wes had brown hair, like his
father, with a part on the right, and most of it swept to the left. His
mother had carefully combed it before he left home. Now Chris's hand was
tousling it, so Wes did the same to Chris.

I got a hand that is mighty fine! They each held their own hand and then
after the YES, grabbed their neighbor's hand.

I got muscles that are mighty fine! Cool. Each boy popped his best bicep
and held it, and then felt the next one's muscle.

I got a foot that is mighty fine! This involved a lot of contorting, with
feet flying around. Again, Chris seemed to get a certain pleasure playing
with Wesâ^À^Ùs foot.

The next verse made them all giggle again! I got a tit that is mighty
fine! After seeing Chris squeeze his tit, each boy reached under his
shirt and did the same. Then for part 2, they grabbed each other's tits.
Wes loved being able to squeeze the big guy's pectoral ornament, almost
as much as having him hold his tiny bump.

The boys dropped their jaws when Doc and Chris started the next verse. I
got a dick that is mighty fine! Chris reached right into his waistband
and held his mantool. Each boy in the car quickly dove into their pants.
Wow, thought Wes. This is so fucking cool. It made him feel like a big
boy, being free to grab his peepee in front of other people like that. He
knew how good it felt to hold it. All the boys did. But until that moment
he regarded it as a private pleasure. Suddenly everyone was shouting YES
and Wes realized what was coming next. Sure enough, Chris reached into
and grabbed Wes's little boytool and gave it a firm squeeze. With his
other hand, he grabbed Wes's hand and pushed it into his own shorts. Wes
immediately noticed Chris had no underwear on and he quickly grabbed hold
of the huge mantool. The rest of the boys got their hands positioned and
all started singing real loud and proud:

You got a dick that is mighty fine!
And I got a dick that is mighty fine!
I'll hold yours and you hold mine!
We both got a dick that is mighty fine!

The hands were reluctantly pulled out, but then Doc and Chris started the
next verse: I got balls that are mighty fine! So again the hands went
into the pants. Shit, Wes thought, Chris is holding my balls. Shit,
Iâ^À^Ùm holding his and theyâ^À^Ùre huge!

"OK, boys, here comes the last verse. It's a little tricky to do in the
car but we'll manage, Oh, I got an ass that is mighty fine!" Chris
scrooched up and shot his hand back into his crack. The boys were able to
do it easier than he. How often had they each scratched their ass like
that. Man, it felt good. Then after the YES, they put their hands into
each other's asses. Wes reached in and felt the warm furry buns of his
adult partner. But when Chris plunged his hand into Wes's backside, he
adroitly got his finger positioned right on the boy's hole. Being the
last verse, the adults led the boys in a long ritard, prolonging the
wonderful contact: I'll hold yours and you hold mine! We both got asses
that are mighty fine!

The boys were all laughing excitedly now. They could see these adults
knew how to make camp fun for all. After a short break, they wanted to
change places and sing it again. Wes reluctantly ceded his position
beside Chris to an Asian boy, and hopped in the back seat next to a black
boy. It was fun touching the black kid's nose, flatter than his own, and
his nappy hair. One of the boys suggested it would be easier to sing the
song if he took off his pants, and soon all the boys, and Chris as well,
were sitting bare-assed and singing loudly. This was better 'cause now
you not only felt the other kid's privates, you also got an unobstructed
view, an advantage that did not escape Chris.

By the time they pulled into the camp, they were nearly hoarse. But now
they were more interested in staring at their surroundings than at each
other anyway.

The van parked beside two others that were unloading their precious
cargo. There were also a few cars discharging men and boys. Other men
were coming down the hill to meet the new arrivals. Each man had on a
green shirt like Chris's with his name on it, khaki shorts, and white
Adidas. Chris pulled up his shorts which signaled the boys to do
likewise, and they all climbed out. A number of men walked directly to
Doc's van and Doc began introducing them to the boys. "Wes, this is
Barry." A man in his late thirties wearing the ubiquitous Adidas, shorts
and green shirt (with Barry written for all to see), extended his hand
and gave Wes a vigorous, manly shake.

"Hi, there, Wes, I'm going to be your Big Buddy today. OK? I can't wait
to show you around. Come with me, Wes old Sport, and I'll show you your
cabin." Wes took Barry's hand and skipped along beside him up one of the
paths. Suddenly, he realized he was skipping away from Doc and Chris,
away from his new friends. He turned around and didn't see them. Instead,
he saw simply a kaleidoscope of identically clad men leading boys off in
all directions. He looked up at Barry and saw him smiling down. Well, he
thought to himself, I guess it's OK. Barry IS Doc's friend, and he seems
real nice, and then he remembered his Dad's words, "Play along. You'll
find it will be fun." So he continued skipping up the path and began
happily singing softly the Mighty Fine Song, which made Barry smile.

"Here we are, Sport. This is your cabin." Well, it certainly wasn't your
typical camp cabin. It was more of a cottage. It had a front porch with a
swing. Inside was a roomy bedroom with two comfy looking double beds and
four dressers with mirrors. Behind that was an alcove with the bathroom
facilities but no door. A colorful rug on the floor, wagonwheel light
fixtures, sports themed curtains, and new paint on the walls, with
posters of sports stars, made the room bright, cheerful, and well,
all-boy! "This is your dresser, Wes." Barry opened the drawers one by one
and pointed out four green shirts with the name Wes on them, two pairs of
khaki shorts (identified with a nametag sewn inside), a brand new pair of
Adidas, and several pairs of the kind of anklet socks that make it look
like you aren't wearing any. There were also his own flashlight, his own
binoculars, and his own jackknife. Barry could tell Wes liked his new
clothes, which made his chest swell a little. As pre! sident of a large
sportswear company, he had chosen the camp uniforms. He could order them
in any size needed, and have the names embroidered on. Barry showed Wes
his laundry hamper and suggested he throw all the things he was wearing
in there, and get into his new camp outfit. Wes eagerly obeyed, ditching
all his city clothes, then stood naked in front of his dresser looking
again through his drawers. "What's wrong, Wes, old Buddy?"

"Uh, well, I don't see no undywear."

"That's right, Champ! Here at camp, we all go commando!" Wes wasn't
positive what that meant, but it sounded real manly, and he remembered
Chris in the van didn't have on any briefs. "Here, Wes, look." Barry slid
his shorts down and sure enough, nothing more than a generous bush of
hair covered his manly equipment. "See? You'll be just like all the men
here." Wes giggled, shrugged, and was about to put on his clothes, but
Barry said, "Hold on, Sport. Let me take a look at you. My, my, my. What
a handsome young man you are. Letâ^À^Ùs see, youâ^À^Ùre about seventy
pounds, right?"

Wes dropped his jaw. Barry had nailed it. "How did you know that?" Wes
remembered going with Gino to the San Gennaro Festival in September.
Gino's Dad paid a man to guess their weights but he was way off.

"It's my business to know these things. I can look at any boy in camp and
tell their size. You must be four foot seven."

"Seven and a quarter!" Wes stood tall.

"Well, I was close." Barry began rattling off Wes's chest (27"), waist
(24"), inseam (24"), but of course Wes had no fucking idea if he was
right or not. But he was. All these shenanigans gave Barry a chance to
really study this beautiful boy. He had brown eyes to match his hair,
that opened wide in surprise. He had an endearing gap between his two
front teeth. There was a freckle above his left buttock that he probable
didn't knew about. His tits were medium tan and Barry wondered if they
would swell when the boy got an erection. He would find out soon enough.
Wes's belly button was an outie, and his precious one inch dick (soft)
waggled so cute as he danced about, letting his pea-sized balls peek out.

Wes began to dress and he was just finishing getting into his new
sneakers when Bill, a bearded man in his late forties came in with Lee,
the Asian boy from the van.

"Hey, are you in this cabin too? Neat!" The boys high-fived and Bill
greeted Wes, then began showing Lee his dresser.

Barry looked at his watch. "Well, we got a few minutes before lunch, let
me show you around camp some more."

"Uh, OK, but, uh, Barry?" Wes signaled he wanted to tell Barry something
private. The man bent down and Wes whispered in his ear.

"Why, of course you can pee, Sport." Barry laughed loudly. "You never
have to ask permission. Tell you what, let's both go pee together. He
grabbed Wes's hand and brought him over to the toilet bowl. Wes looked
back and saw both Lee and Bill were watching. Wes and Barry pulled their
shorts down to their thighs, giving their cabinmates a good view of their
cheeks. Soon they were also giving them a nice chorus of two piss streams
hitting porcelain. Barry started singing:

You got a dick that is mighty fine!
And I got a dick that is mighty fine!
I'll hold yours and you hold mine!
We both got a dick that is mighty fine!

Wes and Lee both started giggling. It seemed like everyone in camp knew
the song. Barry left with Wes in tow, as Lee was stripping out of his old
clothes. He showed Wes the chow hall, the baseball field, the corral with
six horses, the game hall, and in the distance the lake. He peppered Wes
with questions, "What do you like to eat, Sport?" "What position do you
play?" "Ever ride a horse?" "Know how to play pool?" "Like to go
swimming?" Wes couldn't believe how much fun could be packed into two
weeks. Barry led Wes over to a bench to sit out the remaining time before
lunch. He wrapped one arm around his charge, so Wes naturally laid his
head on Barry's chest. Barry asked him if he was happy and got the quick
reply, You bet! Then Barry gave Wes a soft kiss on the top of his head.
Wes contentedly moved his arm across to Barry's lap but pulled back
suddenly when he realized he was grazing the man's package. Barry
tenderly took the boy's hand and held it against his cock. "T! hat makes
me feel good, Wes. I'd like you to put your hand there, if you don't
mind."

"Sure, I don't mind." In a few minutes, Wes felt Barry's hand inside his
shorts feeling Wes's ass. It felt good. The two rested fondling each
other until there was a sudden ringing of the camp bell. It was time for
lunch.

Inside, each Big Buddy led his new little buddy along the chow line,
helping him make selections. The entree of the day was fried chicken,
with a wide assortment of sides. Wes took two drumsticks, french fries,
carrots, a roll with butter, and milk to drink. Barry chose a breast,
mashed turnips, cole slaw, and tea. On the other side of the hot table,
the man called Cookie was busy refilling pans as needed, ably assisted by
his ten-year old assistant for the day Phil, whom he kept calling "Hot
Dog."

Barry and Wes sat at table #4, and were soon joined by Doc and a kid
named Drew, Malcolm the black kid from the van and his Big Buddy
Shutterbug, and a fourth pair, a man named Ken and a boy named Russ. Doc
asked Wes and Malcolm how they were settling in, and then turned his
attention to Drew, his special charge. Barry kept talking to Wes and
tracking his progress on lunch, getting a refill of milk for him and a
bottle of catsup for his carrots. Hell, whatever makes the kid happy. For
dessert, Cookie and Phil came around to the tables with a cart full of
pieces of pie that could be topped with ice cream, Kool Whip, or whatever
each diner wanted.

Shutterbug was the camp's official photographer. Skillfully, he attended
to all of Malcolm's needs while simultaneously shooting pictures of the
campers happily eating.

"OK, all you Buddies out there." A man named simply Hi was talking into
the microphone. He introduced himself and his own helper for the day
Aaron and said it was time to sing some songs. He played his keyboard as
everyone joined in on Old MacDonalds Farm. The men were all really into
the music. Wes thought about his father back home who would barely open
his mouth even for the Happy Birthday Song. Surrounded by such happy
music, the boys were giddily joining the chorus. E I E I Ooooooooooooooo!

"That was great, Men! Now the Big Buddies are going to teach our
newcomers a new song. This is a contrapuntal melody." The men started
good-naturedly booing the song leader, who most of the year conducted the
city's philharmonic chorus. "Oops, sorry, you were singing so well, I
thought for a minute you were my music students."

-----

Wes and Barry seem to be getting along just great. When you went to camp
as a kid, was it anything like this?

Every Nifty author loves to get mail from his readers. Please write and
tell me how you like this story.
Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you.