A couple of disclaimers before we start:
1. This story is dramatically different than the others I’ve posted. Tbh, I’m not sure I can really top the others. At least in regards to the source material. I’ve had some fun in my life. But I’m not like a, ya know… sex magnet or something. I gotta work for this shit. And do way more planning and compensating than my anonymous bravado may lead on. That’s kinda the point.
2. Let me clarify, **this was college group church camp**. All the mentioned parties were of age. And if you did not know that college-age church camps were a thing, then L-O-fuckin’-L. They are very much a thing. And a very “important” thing in the kind of community I grew up in.
Skip to the *** if you are impatient, or desperately horny. Zero judgment here.
College group church camps are a simple formula: Adults acting like they are far younger than they are, one-piece bathing suits (and not like the good slutty ones that got cool circa 2017), and dozens of desperately horny individuals. But horniness = hell so keep it in your goddamn pants, Ryan. Like, seriously. It’s basically just a low-effort camping trip where the twenty or so of us with social skills stay up all night playing mafia instead of ya know… fucking each other like we ought to.
So this story takes place at my very last church camp. I was a whopping 20 years old. And yes, I was a virgin. Proudly so, at the time (no, I was not actually proud of my virginity, but I had to pretend to be. fuck off). At this stage in my life, the disenchantment had begun. I knew I would not spend my adulthood still doing church kid stuff. But coping mechanisms are hard to just drop. Anyways, I had one foot out the door. Or rather, my dick was cracking the door open.
Now, there are dozens of characters I could introduce here that would help add some context to the sex. But for the sake of time and efficiency, I will use archetypes.
First, there is *Girl who posts pictures of 3rd world orphans and herself, every #tbt*. She is fit, yet prides herself on modesty. She finds loopholes here, by wearing a lot of running shorts and athletic tank tops. She is friendly to everyone but never flirts. On the other side of the veil, it is clear that she absolutely NEEDS that dick. She is “Fem-character 1” or “FC1”.
Second, there is *absolute asshole who showed emotion that one time so people pretend he is nice*. He’s handsome-ish. He is an athlete, likely baseball. He is always put on a pedestal as a “spiritual leader.” He completely sucks. It is now clear that he too, needs that dick. He is “Male-character-1” or “MC1”.
Male-character-2 however, is pretty cool actually. He’s genuinely kind, possibly hot, and contributes way more to the group than MC1. The problem is that he has a very solid weird streak. Just something off. Like he flies a lot of model airplanes or he only wears off-brand basketball shorts. IDK, something like that. Fem-character-1 is constantly trying to passively marry MC1 (not her fault, he was told she had to) but will most likely settle for an MC2.
I am most akin to MC2, but a healthy dose of hard cultivated self-awareness tends to temper my weird streak. For anyone interested (trust me, you would not be IRL), I’m a solid 6.5/10. I’m average everything, with good-AF hair and a little too much misplaced confidence.
Then there was “Meg.” Meg is like, Fem-character-Alt. And what I mean by that is, she had all the makings of a truly successful church girl, plus more. In addition to being genuinely sweet, smart, a little shy, she was a real person. And this latter quality is what kept her out of the “in” crowd. She was “real” because she had a “real” past. She did not grow up in church and her family still did not go. She had gotten roped in somewhere along the way. And she had to fight tooth-and-nail for acceptance. Despite the fact that she was constantly “serving others,” volunteering, and downright working in the college group, she was passed over.
She also had another thing working against her. Her body.
Dear lord whom I have disappointed in writing this down, her body was phenomenal. It was honestly lost on me back then. I have only concluded thusly after years of field research. But this was largely due to her unwavering commitment to covering all the blessings with which she had been lovingly made. And with which she could undoubtedly make sweet sinful love. She was a short little thing. 5’2 at the very most. And so it seemed she was able, as an adult, to fly below gravity’s radar. Because let me tell you, Newton and his constant did not get the fucking memo.
Meg’s skin seemed to float around her. Her boobs just did whatever the fuck they wanted. Her butt could not cooperate. No matter how many layers poor Meg put on for “Beach Day” or “Pizza, Pool, and Praise Parties,” they were a distraction. I know, that sounds super fucked up. But that’s what we were taught bodies like Meg’s were. A sinful, fleshy, wonderful, distraction.
Every MC1, MC2, and likely a handful of FC1’s wanted that distraction. I was no exception. So you can appreciate my ecstasy when Meg showed the faintest trace of sexual awareness to me. On the first night of my last church camp.
We had settled into camp, all 60 of us or so, earlier that afternoon. It was roughly 50/50 split of “staff” to “students.” I mean the whole thing seems so fucked in hindsight. There’s a bunch of like 25-40 year old’s pretending to wisely guide a bunch of 18-22-year-olds lol. But I’ll never get to the part where I touch Meg’s boobs so just bear with me and pretend it doesn’t sound like a cult.
We were assigned various tents paired up with a staff member and a small group. I was thrown in with a handful of the upper-level MC1’s. I was unfortunately really good at being a church kid. One of these MC1’s was arguably the worst of all. He was a genuinely handsome and super athletic. He was also not the brightest candle on the altar. Like, he was dumb. But good lord, at least at the time, he was so hot. And while this is not a story about my long-repressed sexual fluidity, it does play a semi-important role. Most often in the form of sporting a semi while hanging with bois lol.
Now part of being in the spiritual 1%, meant that Hot-boy could get away with plenty of public sin. This included the profoundly wicked practice of flirtation. And from the moment we touched down, hot-boy was giving all kinds of attention to Meg. She was not particularly flirtatious in return, but c’mon. This was complementarian country. And the fact that a guy was showing her undue levels of attention, was her cross to bear. Clearly, she wanted him to by, ya know, having tits and existing (please note the sarcasm).
I awkwardly hung around with some of the cool kids that first night. And thanks to Hot-boy’s attention, so did Meg. We all sat together for the little “worship” time and sermon. We ate dinner together. And after the various spiritual disciplines, were complete, we circled back up around the fire to hang out and play stupid games. On my left was an FC1, unfortunately, interested in having my babies. On my right, Hot-boy and then Meg next to him. I vaguely laughed and agreed with FC1 while she talked my ear off. Something about her life’s calling being in another country where she would for sure have the most money. Or some shit like that. Who fucking knows. All the while I was trying to not so obviously pay attention to Hot-boy and Meg.
— I need to pause here and point out that my unintentional naming scheme is now reminding me of *Hot-girl* and Meg, as in Meg Thee Stallion. But I will refrain from any poorly written WAP jokes. Also, fuck Tory Lanze. —
So Hot-boy is doing his best to reinforce all the stereotypes that may concern wealthy evangelical men. And let me tell you, he’s killing it in this regard. Meg actually seems to be a bit uncomfortable. Which makes sense. People are going to turn a blind eye for Hot-boy. She on the other hand, will likely receive some kind of one-on-one “conversation” about modesty and temptation and all that shit. But I also notice, she’s a little bit into it.
*** cool and scary sexy time ***
Her posture changes. Rather than sitting criss-cross and leaning forward on her blanket, she leans back and half extends her legs. With her arms slid behind her, palms on the ground, I notice how far her boobs are pushed in front of her. Holy shit, she’s doing that on purpose. Meg is wearing a chunky knit sweater and its shapeless nature is perfectly confirming to her tits. I’m stealing more glances than I dare to. She’s in the 2-o-clock positions, relative to me. But the flickering shadows from the fire highlight the severe curvature of her side boob. Fuck. Her tit is falling across her body, tugging at her sweater. All of the sudden, I’m struck with the idea that she doesn’t have a bra on. Holy shit. I lean forward a bit to cover up my lap.
But my effort to hide my boner inadvertently improves the view. Meg slides one foot further forward and pulls the other back. She strikes a perfect pool-deck pose. She’s wearing some very trendy (for the time) Capri-cut yoga pants. I follow the line of her shapely leg up to the hem of her sweater. The way her teal tights fold into her hip — I believe the young folk these days call this “hip cleavage” — was mesmerizing. But all in one moment of pure lust, it’s over.
I snap back to reality. Someone has called for a game of mafia and all welcome the idea. Hot-boy turns his attention back to the group and Meg re-adjusts. As she sits back up straight, she crosses her curvy legs and raised her arms straight up to stretch. Up, up, up, the hem of her knit sweater climbs. My eyes follow. I’m waiting to catch the tiniest glimpse of tan skin beneath it. But the waist of her yoga pants its too fucking high. Her sweater stops moving. It’s visibly snagged on something. The hem springs up an inch or so when unstuck. My eyes move a little higher. I see the outline of a hard nipple poking behind the sweater. My jaw hangs. But then, fucking terror. My eyes flick up to her’s, which are peering right back into mine.
Oh shoot. Oh darn. What the H-E-double-hockey-sticks am I doing?!! FRICK!
I’m expecting the scorn of heaven to be in her soft brown eyes. But it’s not. Something else is. Is that the flicker of the campfire or something more sinful? Then she fucks me up real good. The tiniest of smiles. And I actually almost came. I mean c’mon, I was a virgin. And this was the first IRL girl to ever suggest that as much as I was interested in putting my dick inside her, she was interested in taking it.
So getting through this game is just excruciating. Hot-boy’s hyper-competitive nature has overtaken his flirtatious instincts and he’s hardly paying attention to Meg. I, on the other hand, cannot take my fucking eyes off her. And I think she notices. She catches my eye a couple more times. She isn’t doing anything to outright tease me. Or maybe she is. Fuck, Idk. But I’m telling myself that she is. She’s a little extra giggly. She’s touching her curly hair too much. She’s regularly adjusting her waistline, pulling her yoga pants tight around her ass.
But then something happened that convinced me, just like Wendy Peffercorn, she knew exactly what she was doing. I’ll spare you the long list of rules for the game, but a large portion of it includes the whole group closing their eyes and pretending to sleep before a few “mafia” members wake up and converse silently with the narrator. I was often chosen as the narrator. People seemed to think I had a way with stories and making up the game scenario. So I call forthe Mafia to “wake up” and select their next victim.
To my delight, Meg is in the mafia. And when I look at her, she smirks devilishly. This could easily be explained by the fact that she is partaking a fictional conspiracy to homicide. But this was not the case. She twirled a finger through her hair, slowly pulling it down in front of her. She continued, dragging her finger over the surface of her sweater. Then, just as she broke eye contact with me she — subtly yet deliberately — gave her big soft breast a little lift and squeeze. Jesus fucking christ.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/ilfo0p/this_one_time_at_church_camp_pt_1_fm
Go on.