This is a mobile proxy. It is intended to visit the IOMfAtS Story Shelf on devices that would otherwise not correctly display the site. Please direct all your feedback to the friendly guy over at IOMfAtS!

The Pale Blue Sky

by Jack Lynch

Part 2 - Connor, Chapter 8

13 Years Old. Summer Camp.

Banished. That was the only way Connor could describe what was about to happen. What a horrible way to start the summer!

His mother had enrolled him in a summer camp. Ok, it was just for a week, but still. It felt like a prison sentence.

When his dad left, Connor knew it was hard on his mom in spite of the way he had treated both of them. Their minister suggested she see a shrink. Connor was ok with that. It helped a lot, especially at first. After going for a long time, the frequency of her sessions with Dr. Friend dwindled to a few times a year. She always came back from her sessions refreshed and renewed.

A special camp for kids with one parent. Dr. Friend's idea. He wondered if Connor might need some way to deal with his dad disappearing from their lives. But, Connor didn't miss his dad at all. He didn't need a father figure in his life. If anything, his hockey coaches amply filled that role. But, according to his mom, Dr. Friend thought he should "explore" his feelings. Yuck!

The first week of June, with sort of a hang dog look, he threw his bag over his shoulder and got on the camp bus. Camp was not really held at a camp. Rather, it was some sort of church retreat with dorms instead of cabins. But, it was on a quintessentially north woods lake good for swimming and canoeing. Sand volleyball, a soccer field, arts and crafts hut, and other camp-like activities were the fun stuff.

The really bad stuff consisted of group discussions where they all had to talk about their "feelings." Listening to the other kids, ages 8 to 16, affirmed how he felt about his situation. On the other hand, it also made him realize a lot of kids were angry, bitter, and sad. Most had lost a parent through divorce but some had lost either their father or their mother due to death. A couple of kids had literally been abandoned by both parents. As in kicked out.

The only thing worse than the group discussions were the one-on-one sessions. They had him near tears a couple of times, not because he had some bad feelings to reveal, but because he was so frustrated that they wouldn't leave him alone.

Besides the fun stuff, the only other good thing about camp was Scottie.

Scottie was one of the people who helped out. At 19, he was too young to officially be a counselor. But, he organized some of the activities and helped herd the kids wherever they needed to go.

Connor thought Scottie was possibly the most beautiful looking person he had ever seen. Tall, at least 6'1," and slender. Olive brown skin, like satin. Dark eyes. Long, black hair, that was always neatly combed. Down to the middle of his back, parted in the middle, allowing it to perfectly frame his face. He had full sensuous lips and wide eyebrows. He talked with a light breathy voice, almost a whisper with a slight raspiness to it. He mostly wore a tank with deep cut armholes. Depending on how he stood, you could peek at his hairless chest and brown nipples.

For a change, Connor was now the one staring.

"What's your problem, dude?" A boy sitting next to Connor at lunch asked as he gave him an elbow to the ribs. Jolted out of his trance, Connor realized that his eyes had been totally locked on Scottie who was sitting at the staff table. His taco had been hanging suspended halfway up to his mouth. Back to reality and owing the boy no excuses, he just smirked.

That night, Connor had a dream. He was on his knees looking up at Scottie. Wearing only his tank, Scottie was naked from the waist down. His cock was big and hard. Connor was both attracted to and repulsed by the dark thickness of his pubic hair. Scottie grabbed Connor by the back of his head and pushed his face into his crotch. Connor could hardly breathe as he took in the musky smell of his groin and felt the scratchiness of his pubic hair on his cheeks. Connor woke up with a start, out of breath and perspiring. He had just had a wet dream.

"Stand Up" was another one of the group exercises. Pure torture. They were divided into groups of eight campers each. Standing in a circle, each boy or girl, in turn, would have to say something good about what was happening in their life.

When it was Connor's turn, the only thing he could think of to say was, "I feel good that this camp is going to be over in three days."

At least it got a good laugh. Just then, he felt two hands on his shoulders. When he turned around it was Scottie. He looked down at Connor with a soft smile and a twinkle in his eyes. Connor smiled back.

The next morning when Connor was in the arts and crafts hut free-forming another house made out of modeling clay and popsicle sticks, a hand snaked in front of him.

"Try this," Scottie said as he stuck two short sticks in the clay to form supports for a wall.

Connor turned his face to Scottie. Their faces were literally a couple of inches from each other. Their eyes met. Connor drank in Scottie's smell. Like fallen leaves in a forest. A long pause as they just stared at each other. When the spell was momentarily broken, Scottie sat down on the bench next to Connor. They talked quietly for the next half hour sharing stories about each other as they poked at the partially built clay house. Connor drank in every word Scottie had to say. They bonded.

Later that day, the counselors organized games of corn hole. Each counselor picked a teammate. Scottie chose Connor. The play was fun and furious. When Connor threw the last bag, knocking the other team's bag off the board, it slid right into the hole. They won! Connor literally jumped into Scottie's arms knocking them both to the ground laughing.

On top of everything else he had to endure, Connor had a roommate. Merlin was a sad, overweight kid with a perpetually flushed face. It was like he was either overheated or was embarrassed about something. He had good reason to be sad. His father had died suddenly only the month before.

During the week, Connor often heard soft whimpering coming from Merlin's bed on the other side of the room. On the last night of camp, just after lights out, Merlin started whimpering again. This time it was different. The whimpering devolved into a moaning-groaning sound followed by crying. Wailing was followed by uncontrollable hysterical screaming. Connor didn't know what to do. He couldn't easily pretend he was asleep so he just put his pillow over his head and clutched the sides of it against his ears.

Suddenly, the door to their room sprang open. Connor heard a couple of counselors trying to calm Merlin down. Screaming and howling continued so they helped him out of bed and guided him out of the room. Connor heard the sound of Merlin's screaming recede as he was led down the hallway.

All was quiet now but Connor could sense that someone else was still in the room. Nevertheless, he kept the pillow clutched over his head even though it was now getting a bit hard to breathe. He felt the side of the bed depress as someone climbed onto the bed and he was softly nudged to one side. Slowly, he allowed the pillow to be pulled away from his head. Able to breathe a lot easier, Connor turned his head to find Scottie laying next to him.

They looked into each other's eyes for a long time. Even in the dim light, Scottie's gaze was calming, almost hypnotic. Scottie brought his right hand up to Connor's head and started lightly stroking his hair. As he did, he pulled some of the tangles out of it and softly swept his finger around Connor's ear. Connor could feel Scottie's light warm breath against his face and nose.

Looking deep into his eyes, Scottie held Connor's face in his hand. Slowly, he brought his lips to Connor's. Soft, sweet kisses. Scottie pushed Connor's lips open with his tongue. As his tongue brushed his teeth, Connor opened his mouth and accepted Scottie's tongue. Scottie's tongue plunged deeper into his mouth. Saliva flowed between them. Connor pushed his own tongue back into Scottie's mouth. Deep French kissing.

Scottie broke the kiss as he turned Connor onto his back, straddled him, and grabbed his wrists to bring them over his head. After another long kiss, Scottie's hands went to the bottom of his own t-shirt and whipped it off. Following, he brought his hands down to the bottom of Connor's t-shirt and pulled it over his head. Connor lifted his arms up so he could caress Scottie's chest. Scooting to the side and pulling back for a moment, Scottie reached down and pulled Connor's shorts below his hips. His very erect cock bounced out. As he looked at it, Scottie stood up and let his own shorts fall to the floor revealing a dark brown cock, fully erect. Just as Connor imagined, it was easily 8 inches long, thick, and crowned by a patch of beautiful dark pubic hair.

Connor lay there, exposed, arms still over his head, his much more modest cock pulsing up and down. Scottie crawled back on top of Connor. The two of them resumed fervent kissing while they ground their hips into each other. Grunting and gasping, they thrust violently against each other. Connor orgasmed but continued pushing his hips against Scottie. With one long thrust, Scottie came. He emitted long streams of hot cum that shot up into Connor's chest. Some of it rolled off of his tummy onto the bed.

After what seemed like a long time, Scottie rolled off of Connor. They lay next to each other as they gazed into each other's eyes. Scottie gave Connor a light kiss on his nose and groaned as he lifted himself off of the bed. With his cock still half hard and glistening with cum, he went to the bathroom, grabbed a towel, and returned. Carefully and lovingly, he wiped the cum off of Connor. Scottie kissed his tummy, gathered his clothes, dressed, and leaned over to kiss him on the lips one more time.

Still inches away from his face, Scottie whispered, "Sweet boy."

The next morning, just before he boarded the bus to return to the city, Scottie handed Connor a small piece of paper with his phone number on it.

"Keep in touch, sweet boy," he said.

Talk about this story on our forum

Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.

[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]

* Some browsers may require a right click instead