Date: Tue, 14 Feb 2012 19:22:51 -0500
From: wild wing <wildwing66@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Perfect Summer Job  - Chapter one

Preface:

This is the tale of a gay teenager who gets more than he bargained for at a
gay summer camp.  This story should satisfy those of you who asked me to
add more sex into my tales. There are vivid descriptions of consensual sex
so you have been warned.  I always love to hear from my fans and I will
always respond.  I have made many friends at Nifty.  If you wish to read
more of my work please look me up in te prolific author section.

Chapter One

I was terrified.  Just three weeks before my university tuition fees were
due and I had no idea where the money was coming from.  I was too proud to
tap my parents again and every effort to find a summer job had been a
miserable failure.  At this juncture I was ready to wash floors if I had
to.

I checked the university bulletin boards as I had done countless times this
summer just in case there was something new.  No luck. I started back to my
car but on a whim I dropped into the gay alliance office and there it was.
'WE ARE DESPERATE' the sign began. You can't be more desperate than I am I
thought. I read on. 'We are in need of a counsellor for our boys camp for
the last two weeks of the summer.  Experience an asset but not a necessity.
Must like working with youth in an outdoor setting'.

What kind of camp would advertise in a gay office I wondered?  No matter; I
was ready to do their laundry or whatever it took to snag the position. I
filled out a questionnaire that the office receptionist provided and was
told to meet a Mr. Gardner in the Eaton Humanities building on campus
tomorrow.  The appointment couldn't come soon enough.

I showed up a little early the next day and wasn't surprised to find ten
other nervous individuals there ahead of me.  There was an even dozen of us
by the time Mr.  Gardner strode in.  He was exactly as I pictured he might
look like. He was a strikingly handsome man who was well tanned from
spending too many hours in the sun.  He wore a pair of neatly creased pants
and a blue T-shirt with the word 'staff' in one corner and the name Camp
Gogama emblazoned across his amply endowed chest.

"Good morning gentlemen," he began.  "I must start by telling you that I
run a camp for troubled gay boys.  If that offends you I must ask you not
to waste my time and to leave now."

A couple of the candidates did just that.

"Good, now let's get down to business," he added.

He explained that the camp was a charity funded in part by he government
but mostly by wealthy elements of the gay community. The boys ranged in age
from eight to fifteen and were recommended by school guidance councillors,
psychiatrists, correctional system officers and the like. Most were uneasy
with their sexuality and many had emotional problems.  He finished by
saying that the aim of the camp was to give the boys as many positive
experiences as possible and make them realize that it's okay to be gay in
the hope that each would become a positive contributor to society.

About an hour later I found myself one on one with Mr. Gardner. He shook my
hand warmly and asked me to take a seat.

"I see here your name is Andrew Stuart and you a sophomore.  Do your
friends call you Andrew or Andy?"

"Andy, sir," I replied.

"Good." He paused as he scanned my answers to the questionnaire. "Hmmm, you
seem to be a little lacking in experience but I see you did attend camp
yourself as a boy. How did that go?"

I fidgeted in my chair. "Not too good actually.  My being gay caused me
some problems."

Mr. Gardner chuckled, "I've heard that one before. Are you into sports at
all?"

"Well I did play some little league baseball and I'm on the university swim
team."

"Oh that's a big plus," he smiled.

And so the interview went.  I was still nervous but I tried to be as
forthright and as upbeat as possible. He finished by saying, "I'm going to
ask you some personal questions. I need truthful answers.  I must warn you
that how you answer will go a long way in my decision making."

"No problem," I stated, "Fire away."

"Are you a boy lover?"

Wow I thought, I didn't expect that one.  I gulped and answered as well as
I could. "I'm not sure. I've thought about it. Remember I'm only nineteen.
I know I get very excited when I work with kids and I often get a hard on
that I can't control. I admit I had sex a couple of times with guys that
were three or four years younger and that was fun."

Mr. Gardner smiled again and went on, "Suppose you as a staff member
entered one of our cabins and you accidentally interrupted two of the boys
getting it on.  What would you do?"

I thought a moment about the camp philosophy before I responded.  "Well," I
started, "Since we want them to be positive about their sexuality the last
thing I'm going to do is admonish them.  If one is forcing himself on an
unwilling partner I might sit down and have quiet chat with them but more
than likely I would apologize and excuse myself"

"Well said Andy. Those are the best answers I've heard today.  Unless
something better comes along in the last two interviews I'm prepared to
hire you. Can you be ready this Saturday?"

"What would my duties be?" I asked.

"Well we lost a councillor because of a family tragedy.  He was our swim
instructor and supervisor.  With your swimming aptitude you should have no
problems with that.  He was also our councillor at large."

"Councillor at large?"

"Yes, the councillor at large has to be a caring mature individual that all
of the campers like. You must be prepared to sit down with them at any time
of day or night, listen to their personal problems and help them any way
you can. The boys must believe that you are on their side. I'm suitably
impressed with you that I know you can handle that too!"

"Wow," I murmured, "That's a lot of responsibility!"

"You can handle it," he beamed.

Thirty minutes later I walked out with the job in my pocket and a smile I
couldn't get rid of.  The job was too good to be true.  Frankly I couldn't
have written a better description of the perfect summer job if I'd tried.

I awoke Saturday morning full of nervous energy and anticipation.  Eight
o'clock found me in the parking lot of the downtown gay community centre. A
camp angel had provided the bus and was to be the driver too. The
thirty-six boys began arriving in drips and drabs. I checked off their
names as they entered the bus. A few obviously came with their parents but
most arrived with stony faced individuals or came alone by bus or cab. They
came in all shapes and sizes. Most were cute but a few were not.  They were
a true cross section of society. I noticed they didn't say much. They
simply took a seat and stared out of the closest window.  As the bus
finally pulled out there was none of the revelry one normally associates
with a bus heading to camp.

As we drove towards the highway the mood didn't change. This is awful I
thought. One would think we were heading for a prison farm. I had to do
something. I rose from my front seat and raised my voice in song.

    "Hey, dingle dangle, dingle dangle dee,
     The cutest gay boy you did ever see,
     When he was tired, he lay down on a rock,
     His boyfriend came along and played with his.....
     HEY dingle dangle , dingle dangle dee,
     The cutest........

The boys began by looking at me as if I had rocks in my head but when I hit
the second HEY they broke out shouting and laughing.  About half the boys
began singing with me. When we reached the third HEY it seemed everyone
joined in and continued for another round.  This time when we reached HEY
someone near the back yelled COCK at the top of his lungs.  Laughter and
bedlam ensued.  Needless to say everyone yelled COCK from then on.  The
boys repeated the song eight or nine times before I finally raised my hands
for silence.

"Hey guys," I yelled, "How many of you have heard of 'Old MacDonald's
Farm'?"

Several of the boys groaned. One added, "We don't want to sing that one. We
like the first song!"

"I understand," I explained, "But how many of you knew that Old MacDonald
had a gay brother and that Old MacDonald had a gay farm?"

"Yeahhh," several boys shouted, "Let's hear it!"

I took up the challenge.

     'Old MacDonald had a gay farm,
      Eeh-I-eeh-I-ohhh,
      And on this farm he had some roosters,
      Eeh-I-eeh-I-ohhh,'

Some of the boys were all ready joining in.

     'With a COCK-a-doodle here and a COCK-a-doodle there,
      Here a cock, there a cock, everywhere a cock, cock,
      Old MacDonald had a gay farm,
      Eeh-I-eeh-ohhh'

Absolute chaos followed.  Everyone was laughing and cheering. Even the bus
driver joined in. A boy in the middle insisted I start over.  The bus
rocked as every boy tried to outdo the other. The bus stopped for a traffic
light.  With most of the windows wide open I figured that neighbourhood
would never the same again.


When we reached the end some demanded additional verses. I went on.

       'Now on this farm he had some asses,

	Eeh-I-eeh-I-ohhh,
        With an ass, ass here and an ass, ass there,
        Here an ass, there an ass, everywhere an ass, ass,

	With a COCKadoodle here and a COCKadoodle there.
        Here a cock, there cock, everywhere a cock cock,
        Old Macdonald had a gay farm,
        Eeh-I-eeh -I-ohhh.'

Yet another uproar! The boys loved it. I took a chance and became a little
provocative by adding the goose. Instead of honks I sang 'With a goose
goose here and a goose goose there......'

It was soon apparent that several boys were practicing their 'goosing' as
we sung it. I encouraged the boys to add their own animals and some did.
As we reached six verses I began to march up and down the aisle.  I tousled
some hair here and stroked a cheek there.  I was having a ball!  On one
occasion as we hit the goose refrain felt a hand come out from a seat and
grab a generous portion of my crotch.  Recalling the philosophy of the camp
I did not make a fuss.  In fact I paused and allowed him to grope.  When
the song moved on so did I.

I was 'goosed' at least three more times before the song ended.  They were
getting to know me real well.

From that point on the ride was relatively normal for a camp bus.  Among
the laughter, the joking and the singing the lads introduced themselves to
each other.  I'm sure a budding friendship or two occurred.  By the time we
pulled into the tree lined driveway of the camp I was ready for the time of
my life.