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The New Boy

by Jonathan Perkins

Chapter 1

This is a fictional story that involves sexual exploits between teenage boys. If this is illegal where you live or it makes you uncomfortable to read this, please move on. The names and places are fictional and not based on any real person, living or dead. Any references to the Boy Scouts in generic in use and does not imply or infer any homosexual activities regularly take place at any scouting events.

Copyright © 2024 Jonathan Perkins All rights reserved

Bert Bailey was apprehensive about entering the church basement to attend his first Boy Scout meeting. He didn't want to join but his father insisted that he did so he could make new friends. Bert had friends, good friends, back home. They enjoyed the carefree days of summer like most country children did. They camped in the woods, hunted, swam in the creek, and did chores that were assigned by their parents. Bert had only been in their new home for a month and he already wished he could go home to be with his friends. The family has recently moved from Hazard, KY, a small coal town, to Hunting Valley, one of the richest cities in Ohio. It wasn't an easy decision to make but Bert's father, John Bailey felt the move was necessary to give his family a better life.

Bert and his father entered the church basement where the Scout meetings were held. All the boys in the room turned and stared at the new boy. The Scoutmaster approached them and welcomed them to the meeting. The boys in the room went back to the various activities they were doing.

"Welcome to Troop 17. You must be John Bailey and his son Bert," the Scoutmaster began. "I'm Mr. Jackson, the Scoutmaster."

"Glad to meet you. I have heard good things about your troop so I thought it would be ideal for Bert to join and make some new friends."

"Your timing is perfect. We're practicing our Scout skills for a two-week Scout Jamboree we are going to next week. I get you all the paperwork and permission slips so Bert can attend if he would like."

"That would be fine. I'll sure he'll have a good time."

Bert tugged at his father's sleeve.

"Dad, I don't want to go away for two weeks. I don't know anyone here. Can't I stay home?" Bert begged.

"No, you joined to make new friends and this will be a good way to do it."

"I didn't join, you made me, remember?"

"You'll have a great time and meet a lot of boys your age," the Scoutmaster assured him. "Mack, come over here and let me introduce you to Bert, our newest member of the troop."

Bert's father, John, was one of the lucky men in Hazard, securing a job with the county, working in the public works department, repairing roads and such. Most of the other men in town worked in the coal mines, losing their health and then losing their jobs as mine after mine closed. Bert's mother, Mildred, canned vegetables she grew and did sewing for the local families to make a few extra dollars. Once a month she and John would make the one-hour trip to London, KY to buy fabric and sewing supplies. John was against gambling but Mildred would buy a $2 lottery ticket every trip, not telling John. After burning so many losing tickets, she finally won. And won big. Her ticket was the sole winning number on a $81 million dollar jackpot. Taking the cash option, her after taxes check from the lottery was just over $26 million dollars. They were able to collect their winnings anonymously so no one in town would know. Instead they bragged about winning a $100K prize to account for their new found wealth.

The money meant John could provide a better life for the family. But there was only so much that money could do to improve the quality of life in Hazard. John was a generous philanthropist, giving money to repair the church roof, put an addition on the town hall, new books and a coat of paint for the schoolhouse. But you can only put so much lipstick on a pig until you just have a pretty pig, but it's still a pig.

John searched for a new place to live. He came across Hunting Valley in Ohio. The name caught his attention. He figured Bert would like it because obviously it was a good place to hunt, something Bert enjoyed. It was also a wealthy community so they wouldn't have to hide their good fortune.

Mack was the senior patrol leader, a personable boy of 17. He approached Bert and extended his left hand. Bert looked at him and thought this guy doesn't even know how to shake hands. How was he supposed to learn anything for him.

"Hi Bert, I'm Mack. That's short for Mackinaw. My folks moved here from Mackinaw, Michigan before I was born. They missed it so much, they named me after their hometown. Sucks, but that me."

Bert put his right hand out to shake, thinking maybe there was something wrong with Mack's right hand.

"We use the left hand for the Boy Scout handshake. You'll learn that and a bunch of neat things about scouting and the outdoors."

Bert knew what he used his left hand for and Mack probably wouldn't want to shake that hand if he knew. Bert extended his left hand and shook hands anyway.

This is so fucking weird', Bert thought to himself. 'They shake with the wrong hand, the kid is named after a city and they are going to teach me shit?'

Mack took Bert and introduced him to the rest of the troop. He received a tepid reception then the boys went back to what they were doing.

"I'm working on practicing my knots. It will be one of the competitive events at the jamboree. Let me show you some and you can try to tie them. The first one I'll show you in the bowline."

Bert was paying more attention to Mack's body than he was the knot. Mack had brown wavy hair sticking out from his regulation Scout cap. Deep blue eyes that reminded him of the creek he used to swim in. A strong jaw line and smooth cheeks like he hadn't started to shave in spite of being several years older than Bert. His uniform shirt was snug as were his uniform shorts. Evidently he hadn't gotten a new uniform lately, trying to get as much use out of this one before it was absolutely too small for him. Mack was sitting on the floor, his legs crossed Indian style, exposing a nice bulge. Maybe he was well hung or maybe just the shorts being too small were deceptive. His legs had just a whisper of hair but plenty of muscle.

Mack made several attempts to tie the knot, ending up with a granny knot instead of a bowline, before he correctly succeeded, smiling at his accomplishment.

"There, do you think you can tie a bowline by yourself?" Mack asked, handling Bert a short section of rope and showing him the finished knot.

Bert had no idea what a bowline was so he looked at the knot that Mack had tied. That wasn't a bowline; that was what his father called a 'rabbit hitch' he explained, because of the way his father taught him to tie it. Make a loop, the rabbit comes out of the hole, around the tree and back in the hole. Bert took the rope and faster than Mack could see what he was doing, executed a perfect bowline and handed it back to Mack.

"Holy hell, dude, that's perfect! You're a natural at this," Mack told him.

They continued for the next twenty minutes tying knots. Bert wasn't familiar with all these new names but could tie any knot Mack showed him.

"Your awesome, Bert. I want you as my partner for the Jamboree. We'll win the knots competition hands down."

Bert smiled for the first time since he had been at the meeting. He felt at ease with Mack and was hoping they could become friends.

Bert and his father left the meeting that night with a list of personal gear he needed to buy for the trip. The troop would supply all the major equipment. He would be sharing a tent with Mack, the only thing that he was looking forward to for the next two weeks.

The boys in the troop and their parents assembled in the church parking lot at 7:00 on the morning of their departure. They loaded their gear on a huge rented bus then said goodbye to the parents. The Scoutmaster gave them some last minute instructions as the boys piled in. The door was closed and Bert was off to his first Scout Jamboree. As Senior Patrol Leader, Mack got to sit in the back so he could make sure everyone behaved. He had Bert sit with him. Mack told him about the fun things they'd be doing. Bert told Mack about his home back in Kentucky and how much he missed it.

"Give it a while and you'll be just as happy here. I'll make sure of it," he grinned.

The bus got in line at the entrance to the Jamboree grounds, waiting their turn to go through the gate and get their campsite assignment. Bert leaned over Mack to look at the window. He had never seen so many boys and men of all shapes and sizes, all wearing the same brown uniforms. As he peered out the bus window, he caught of whiff of what he thought was perfume but a stronger scent than he was familiar with. He turned his head to look at Mack and took a deep breath. Mack laughed.

"Like my after shave lotion? I don't actually shave yet but I put on the after shave to make me smell nice. It's better than body odor on hot summer days."

The closeness to Mack and the smell of his after-shave sent a tingle through Bert that he tried to ignore.

"Yeah, you smell good."

The bus pulled through the gate and proceeded to their campsite area. The boys piled off the bus and were called to attention by Mack.

"Okay, guys, you all have your assignments that were given out at the planning meeting. So let's get this site set up as fast as we can so we can roam around and see what other troops are doing."

"Mack, I wasn't at that meeting and have no idea what I should be doing," Bert said.

"Don't worry, you stick with me for now. We'll get our tent set up and then check and see how everyone else is doing. You're my new unofficial Assistant Senior patrol Leader."

"Isn't that George's job? I don't want him to get pissed off at me for taking his job."

"If any of the guys give you shit over anything, you tell me and I'll set them straight. Don't worry about George. He likes the title but doesn't do anything the position demands."

"I don't know what the position calls for."

"You just do what I tell you and you'll be fine. Just remember I'm in charge," Mack smirked.

"Yes sir, Mack, what ever you say," Bart snapped to attention and laughed.

This was Bert's first Scouting event and already he was Mack's assistant. It made him feel good that Mack trusted him and was looking out for him. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

They got their tent set up and put the cots inside.

"Move your cot closer to mine, away from the side of the tent like mine. If we get rain and you bump the tent in your sleep it will knock the condensation of the tent fabric and drip all over us. Just leave enough room between them so we can walk." Mack advised.

The camp was finally set up so the boys were free to roam around until suppertime. Mack took Bert with him as they visited some of the troops that Mack was friendly with from past events. On the way back to their site, Bert picked up a four-foot long branch and a smaller stick.

"What are those for?" Mack asked.

"For later tonight," Bert just answered succinctly.

Mack shrugged his shoulders and walked on.

Supper was canned beans and boiled hot dogs. Mr. Jackson was setting pots on the camp stoves to cook while some of the boys got the campfire going. Mr. Jackson was about to put the hotdogs in the boiling water when Bert asked Mack if he could have his two dogs before they went in the pot.

"You're going to eat them cold?" Mack asked.

"No, just don't want them drowned in their own bath water, that's all."

Mack got two of the cold dogs and gave them to Bert. Bert went and got the smaller stick he had picked up and went to the campfire. He pierced the ends of the one of the dogs and held it over the fire. Mack came over and shook his head at what Bert was doing.

"Roasted is always better then drowned," Bert chuckled.

Suddenly all the boys were looking for the right sticks for roasting their dogs.

At the end of every day, one troop was picked to lead the closing ceremony. Mack and Bert sat next to each other at the closing, their bare legs touching each other as they stuck out from their uniform shorts. Bert wasn't sure why, but he was feeling warm inside, content with the day that had just passed. After it was finished, everyone returned to their camp sites to turn in for night.

"Bert, just so you know. I sleep naked. I hope that isn't a problem for you?"

"Not for me. Just do what you do. I sleep in my underwear. Is that a problem for you?"

"No, you do what you do," Mack laughed as he threw it back at Bert.

They got in their sleep bags and Mack put his arms inside and maneuvered around to take his underwear off. Bert had hoped he would strip down before getting into his bag. He was curious how big Mack's cock was. He had seen his friends at home naked when they went skinny dipping in the creek. Bert was the smallest body of the bunch yet he had about the same size equipment as the rest of them. Mack was older and bigger so his cock must be bigger as well. Lost opportunity. Maybe tomorrow might.

Mack was awoken around 2:00 AM by Bert moaning and tossing in his bed. Mack assumed he was homesick and having a bad dream. Suddenly Bert shot up in bed.

"Oh, damn!" he said quietly to himself as he lifted the edge of his sleeping bag and looked down inside.

His hand went down in side then back up. He smelled his fingers and cursed again. Mack rolled on his side to face Bert.

"Have an accident?" Mack asked.

"Yeah, kind of," Bert replied sheepishly.

"Don't worry, it happens to the best of us. I won't tell anyone."

Mack assumed Bert had wet his pants in his sleep. In reality, Bert had been dreaming about Mack and had a wet dream and filled his underwear with white sticky cum. Bert tossed his sleeping off him and was going to try and clean himself up. As soon as the sleeping bag rolled back, Mack smelled the all too familiar smell of boy cum.

Mack had an idea, a stroke of evil genius he was later describe it to his fellow Scouts.

"Oh no Bert, you didn't get bitten by any mosquitoes since you've been in camp have you?"

"Yeah a couple, why?"

You have white stuff in your pants, don't you?"

Bert didn't want to admit it but he figured Mack would find out anyway.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"It's not your fault. You've caught the virus that the mosquitoes in camp carry."

"A virus? What kind of virus?"

Bert was getting nervous. This confirms his original feelings that joining Scouts and coming to camp was not a good idea.

"It's called 'Penus Erectus'. You're not the only one who had caught it. I've been infected as well."

"What does that have to do with the white stuff in my pants?"

"The virus makes your cock get stiff. Eventually the white stuff comes shooting out."

"What is the white stuff?"

"Did you ever get a cut and it became infected and puss oozed out of the wound? Same this with this virus. It forces a puss like goo to come out your cock. It can happen any time and anywhere. It can be embarrassing if it happens in public."

"Shit! Is there a cure? Can I get a shot or a pill or something for it?"

"Unfortunately no. The only thing that you can do is hope you can make your cock get hard when it's convenient and coax the white stuff out. Get your flashlight and I'll show you."

Bert got his flashlight and aimed it at Mack as he opened his sleeping bag. Bert's hunch was right. Mack did have a large cock, looking to be at least 7" long, maybe more. It was cut, like Bert, and had a large mushroom head. Mack swung his feet over the side of his cot and spread his legs. Bert could see the vein on the side of the shaft pulsing with a steady flow of blood to keep Mack rigid.

"Now watch what I do," as he began to slowly stroke his cock.

Bert watched intently, moving to the edge of his cot to get a better view. He could see a drop of liquid forming at the tip.

"I think I see it but it looks clear and there isn't much of it," Bert observed.

"It means this is working. This is just the beginning."

"Okay, that's good then I suppose."

"Keep watching and pretty soon the white stuff will come out."

Bert got off his cot and kneeled in between Mack's legs to get a better look. Mack stopped stroking and waited for Bert to get comfortable.

"See, I just wrap my hand around it like this and then move it up and down. Now I'll do it a little faster."

Bert watched as more precum dripped off Mack's cock.

"I think it's working, Mack. There is more clear stuff leaking out."

"Fuck yeah, it's working. I think the white stuff is almost ready to come out. Watch out it doesn't land on you."

With that warning, Bert saw Mack's cock stiffen even more as Mack moaned and pulled his legs together, trapping Bert firmly between them. Bert couldn't move out of the way as Mack's cock unloaded six spurts of goo, landing on Bert's chest.

"It looks just like mine," Bert exclaimed as he picked up some with his fingers.

"Of course it does. We both have the virus. A lot of other guys in camp do as well but we never talk about it. And don't ever talk to an adult about this. They don't want word of this virus to get out or the camp would be closed indefinitely. Understand?"

"What about me, should I do it now?"

"No, you've already got rid of yours so you can wait until tomorrow night."

"You mean we have to do this every night? For how long?" Bert asked in a panic.

"If you do it every night you won't have it happening at a bad time. Like in the dining hall or the waterfront or at the closing ceremonies."

"Oh hell no. I might need some help, though. I'm not sure I'd do it right."

"I'd be glad to help you. That's what friends are for. Now clean up and go to sleep."

Mack tossed Bert a towel and smiled as he wiped Mack's cum from his chest and his own cum from his crotch.

"My underwear is a mess so I guess I'll sleep naked like you."

"Sound like a good idea. See you in the morning."

Bert climbed back in his sleeping bag with a smile on his face. Not only had he seen Mack's cock, but he saw the virus goo shoot out of his cock. That, plus Mack was going to help Bert tomorrow night to get rid of his so it didn't make a mess in his underwear again. Scout camp may not be so bad after all.

Mack woke Bert up early the next morning to go hit the showers to wash away last night.

"Come on, Bert, let's get to the showers before anyone else gets there."

Bert was groggy was being up in the middle of the night but got up and got his soap and towel. The shower house was only two big open rooms, one for changing and the other room with shower heads placed around the outside wall every four feet. They were getting undressed when Bert felt his cock start to chub up.

"Oh shit! Mack it's happening again," pointing down to his cock. "I'm not going to shoot more goo out, am I?"

"No, you got rid of it last night. So did I. But look at mine."

Mack was also chubbing up, the sight of which made Bert go full on hard.

"It usually takes a least a day to build up enough to shoot it out. Getting stiff like this is a warning that it's building up again. We'll take care of it tonight."

Bert was embarrassed showering with a boner in front of Mack but Mack didn't seem to mind so Bert figured he better get used to it.

They had finished and were drying off in the changing area when a group of eight Scouts came in, talking and laughing and talking about the day's activities ahead of them. Bert had his towel wrapped around him so none of the boys could see his stiff cock, although his towel was tented out. The other boys undressed and grabbed their soap and shampoo and headed towards the shower room. Mack caught Bert's attention and nodded towards the boys. Six of them were totally flaccid but two of them had their cocks standing out straight and hard. Mack brought a finger to his lips to hush Bert. It seemed like none of the boys noticed their friend's hardons or didn't care. Mack and Bert got dressed and headed to the dining hall for breakfast.

"It looked like two of those boys had caught the virus," Bert commented.

"It sure looked that way. A lot of boys here are infected. But it's not polite to point it out or say anything about it to them. Some of my friends here have the virus but we only talk about it amongst ourselves."

"Okay, I'll be discreet."

After a hearty breakfast the boys headed to the waterfront to take their swim test and then would go to their first competitive event, knot tying.

"A swim test," Bert exclaimed. "I'm no good at taking test. What happens if I fail?"

"Do you know how to swim?"

"Of course I do. Everyone does, don't they?"

"No, that's why we have to take a swim test. It's easy if you can swim. You just have to swim back and forth in front of the dock three times, then swim once doing a back stroke, then float for two minutes. Do you think you can do that?"

"Swimming and floating are no problem but I don't know how to do a back stroke."

"It's easy. Like this," as Mack started moving his hands back over his head and bring them forward.. See? Now you try."

"Oh that. Back home we call that the 'Tennessee Dog Paddle'. Those hillbillies from Tennessee do everything backwards," Bert laughed.

'This kid from Kentucky is calling people from Tennessee hillbillies? That a good one' Mack thought to himself.

They had put their swim trunks on when they got dressed this morning so they could take their test quicker and move on. Most of the other boys changed in the large cabin by the water. Bert was a little disappointed he didn't get to see Mack's cock again.

They went to the lifeguard and signed in. He called Bert's name to come and jump in the water and take his test.

"You got this buddy, just do like I told you," Mack told him.

Bert was a strong swimmer from his days back home. He pushed himself and swam back and forth with more speed than any other boy had done. Then he did the backstroke and finished with floating in the water. Mack hadn't told him to float on his back so Bert was floating face down with his arms out to his side, holding his breath. The lifeguard had been talking to Mack and hadn't noticed at first. He looked and saw Bert face down and panicked. He yelled for the water front director.

"Drowning victim!!"

He and Mack both jumped in to 'save' Bert. They grabbed him and pulled him up and placed him on the dock. Bert opened his eyes and looked at the lifeguard.

"Are my two minutes up?"

"What the hell do you mean?" the lifeguard asked

"Mack told me I had to float for two minutes after I swam. He didn't say you were going to pull me out of the water like a dead fish."

Mack looked at the lifeguard with an apologetic grin.

"Sorry, Brad, I never thought to tell him he was supposed to float on his back."

"So, did I pass?"

The water front director had arrived and heard the conversation.

"Son, do you think you can float on your back for two minutes?" he asked Bert.

"Oh, heck yeah, that's easy," Bert said as he started to sit up and get back in the water.

"No need to show us. You've passed," he congratulated Bert. "Put his name on the board as a swimmer."

Mack took his swim test and got his name on the board as a swimmer as well.

Mack and Bert went to the changing cabin to get dressed for the knot tying event. Mack was facing Bert when he dropped his swim trunks. Bert got a good look at Mack's junk, or what there was to see. He was staring where last night he had seen a huge stiff cock but now there wasn't much at all to look at. Mack caught hi staring.

"Cold water will do that to a fella. Same with you?" Mack asked.

"Not sure."

He pulled his trunks off and looked at his shriveled up cock and his balls tight to his body.

"Guess so. If this happens, all we have to do is go swimming when the virus hits. It will shrink up and not be a problem."

"Sorry, buddy, it doesn't work that way. Only one way to deal with the virus. You saw that last night and I show you how to do it tonight."

Bert had a tough morning so far. He almost didn't passed his swim test and he was shocked to see the effects of cold water on his favorite part of his buddy. Wait! What? Had Mack been calling him his buddy all morning? Damn, maybe this was a good morning after all.

"Come buddy, we're a cinch to get first place as good as you tie knots," Mack told Bert.

"I don't remember all the new names you tried to teach me. How will I know which one the judges want?"

"We're allowed to use our Scout Handbooks if we have trouble. Most guys who have to use the handbook fumble with the rope and loose a lot of time. I'll have my book open and when the judge asks you to tie a particular know, I'll point to the picture of it."

"Isn't that cheating?"

"No, we're allowed to use the book. You just watch me and then you tie the knot and we'll win for sure."

It was their turn to step up to the table with eight pieces of rope on it. The judge would call out the first knot and when the Scout picked up a piece of rope, the timer started. As soon as he set it down on the table, the judge would call out the next knot and so on. When the last knot was placed on the table, the timer stopped. The judge would then inspect the knots and give a score and a time.

Bert was tying the knots so fast the judge scratched his head in disbelief. The last knot he called out was the bowline. Bert looked at the picture and hesitated.

"You know this one, Bert. It's the first one you tied for me," Mack coaxed him.

Still stumped, he kept looking at the picture until Mack yelled out,

"The rabbit hitch, Bert, the rabbit hitch!"

Bert's eyes lit up and his fingers moved like they were possessed by the Devil himself. He threw the finished knot on the table and threw his hands up in the air like a rodeo calf roper who had just finished hog tying his calf.

The judge stepped to the table and examined each knot, one by one. When he got to the last one, he held it up in the air and looked at Mack then Bert.

"The rabbit hitch? I've never heard that one before."

"You should visit Kentucky, you might learn a thing or two," Bert laughed.

They had a perfect score and the fastest time of the day. No other troop beat them. The rest of Troop 17 got good times so they were in first place at the end of he event.

Bert was the talk of the dining hall at lunch. Scouts were coming up to the table Mack and Bert were at and congratulating Bert. Bert was embarrassed over all the attention he was getting. Mack put is arm around Bert's shoulders and pulled him to his side.

"This is my buddy, the knot tying champ of the Jamboree. Anyone gives our troop any crap and he will hog tie them and leave them on the ground before they know what hit them."

Bert still didn't liking the attention but Mack's arm around him and still calling him buddy made it all worthwhile.

After lunch they were scheduled for the fire-starting event. A string was stretched 24" off the ground, supported in place by two metal rods. The Scouts had to build a fire under the string and burn through the string. Time started when they selected their firewood from a large pile and ended when the string burnt through.

"Come on Bert, let's get in line and get this done so we can have some free time before supper."

Bert stood looking up at the sky.

"Not yet, we have to wait."

"Wait for what? What are you looking at?"

"The clouds. They will tell us when to go."

"The clouds? You've got your head in the clouds. Let's go now."

"Do you want bad time or do you want to win another competition?"

Bert had excelled at the knot tying so Mack figured he better give him the benefit of the doubt here.

There was a gentle breeze blowing, not enough to notice unless you were paying attention. As each troop build their fires, the breeze would gust and blow the flames away from the string, taking a larger fire and a longer time to burn the string. A couple of troop thought they had the answer and built their fires to the side of the string so the breeze would blow the flames towards the string. But just as the flames were getting high enough, the breeze would stop or change directions slightly, causing the fire to burn merrily along without hitting the string.

They had been the first ones at the fire event but they keep letting other troops go ahead of them. The judge would keep asking if they were ready or not but Bert kept them waiting. With only three troops left to compete, Bert looked up in the sky again and announced that they were ready.

Bert got to work picking the wood and the kindling, setting the fire directly under the string.

"Shouldn't we set it to one side to account for the wind?" Mack asked.

"No need. The wind has stopped for now."

"But it might pick up again."

"Nope. Look at the clouds," Bert said pointing up in the sky while be laid out the fire.

"What the hell do the clouds have to do with it?"

"They not moving to the East as fast as they had been all afternoon. Slower cloud movement, less breeze. Do you want to light the fire or should I?"

"You're the pyromaniac, you light it," Mack joked.

Bert had built a teepee fire set up and just the right kindling wood to start the fire. He lit the match and fire erupted, reaching for the string in less than a minute. When the string burnt, their time was less than half of all the other troops. Another big win for Mack and Bert and their troop.

"Damn it, Bert, you're going to single handedly win the whole Jamboree for us."

"I don't want to do that, Mack, everyone should get a chance to compete."

"They are. It's just that our team is coming out on top. Don't you like winning?"

"Of course I do. But if I keep winning every event, I won't make many friends with the rest of the troop."

"We're all behind you so don't give it a second thought. We're a troop. You win, we all win."

Supper was even more chaotic than lunch. Bert could hardly take a bite of his food, thanking everyone for their well wishes and congratulations on his success at the competitions. Mr. Jackson came to the table to congratulate Bert and Mack.

"Well done, boys. You're making Troop 17 look good, that's for sure. Is there anything you're not good at, Bert?" he laughed.

"I'm not good at avoiding mosquitoes," he said softly. Mack kicked him under the table.

"Bug repellent and sun screen are a campers best friends. Make sure you have plenty of each. Bug bites can make you stay here very uncomfortable."

"Yes sir. That's for sure, sir"

That earned Bert another kick under the table and a glare from Mack.

After supper they went to the amphitheater for the closing ceremony for the day. Bert and Mack sat side by side as usual. A couple of other Senior Patrol Leaders came up to congratulate Mack and Bert.

"You've got a real ringer there, Mack. First year Scout who takes first place in all the events so far."

Mack put his arm around Bert's shoulders again and pulled him tight.

"Bert here is my number one boy. My buddy and I make a great team."

The other boys left to sit with their troops. Mack left his arm around Bert as the ceremony began. This sent a tingle through Bert's body that resulted in Bert's cock starting to swell up again. He shuffled on the bench to try and get more comfortable.

"Mack,' he whispered and pointed to his crotch. "I think it's happening again."

"Shh, It won't happen this quick. We're good until we get back to our tent. Enjoy the show."

Some of the troops put on some skits, then a song was sung and finally the District Executive of the Scout Council gave the final words of the day.

The boys filed out of the amphitheater and went to their tents. Mack and Bert entered their tent and turned on a lantern.

"See, I told you that you could make it through the day without an incident. We'll drain you again tonight so you'll be good for tomorrow," Mack reassured Bert.

"Do you want me to help you too?"

"Sure. Then I'll help you. Okay?"

"I'd like that very much."

Both boys completely stripped off their clothes. Bert looked at Mack who was already getting hard.

"Looks like we're just in time."

Seeing Mack's stiff cock jutting straight out brought Bert's cock to full attention. Mack lay in his cot and put his hands behind his head. He smiled as Bert came to the side of the cot and reached out to take a hold of Mack's manhood. It is hard again, the way Bert liked seeing it.

Bert placed his hand around the shaft, or as far around as he could. Mack's cock was thicker than Bert's hand could engulf. It was a strange sensation. It was similar to his own cock, soft and smooth on the surface but very hard underneath. He was holding someone else's cock and getting a tingly feeling all over while doing it but the big difference was that it belonged to Mack. He looked up at Mack's face as he slowly moved his hand up and down as he had seen Mack do last night. Mack's eyes were shut tight, a smile on his face and an occasional moan coming from between his pursed lips. Mack moved one of his hands from behind his head and placed it on Bert's shoulder. He massaged his shoulder and his upper arm as Bert increased his speed.

"Damn, this feels good, buddy. I think I'll be emptied out in no time."

"Anything I can do to help, you know that."

"Rub my balls. That's where the white goo comes from and I want to make sure it's loose and ready to flow."

Bert happily obliged, using his other hand to massage Mack's ball sack to make sure all the goo was ready. Mack's hand tightened it's grip on Bert's shoulder, his back arched and Bert felt the cock in his hand swell up even more than it was. Bert stared intently waiting for the purging of the goo. A few more strokes and out it shot, the first pulse landing just shy of Mack's chin. Subsequent volleys landed further down Mack's stomach, the last one landing on his happy trail.

"Fuck, that was awesome. I feel so much better now. Thanks buddy," Mack said as he tried to catch his breath.

"Now me? I want to feel as good as you do." Bert asked as he handed Mack a towel from this morning's swim class.

"Oh, believe me, you will."

Bert got on his cot and lay naked on his back. Mack slid off his cot and got on his knees beside Bert.

"Are you ready?" Mack asked.

"I think so. Will this hurt?"

"Far from it."

Mack reached and took Bert's boner in hand. Bert gasped and sucked in a breath at Mack's touch. Bert lay as stiff as a board, not knowing exactly what he should do or how this would feel.

"Are you okay? Do you want me to continue?"

Bert just smiled nervously and nodded his head. As soon as Mack tightened his grip and started to stroke the young cock in his hand, all the apprehension left Bert and he relaxed. He let out a long breath and felt his body was now in Mack's control. He had no willpower to stop this, even if he wanted to. Which of course he didn't. Mack used his other hand to rub up and down Bert's legs, first one and then the other. The emotions running through Bert's head were almost too much to handle. His eyes closed, he felt like he was hovering above his body on the cot, looking down to see this god of a teenager with his hand manipulating his cock. Mack moved his hand up to take the ball sack in his hand, gently rolling the balls around as if he was playing with a sack of marbles. That was the clincher. Bert's mind went back in his body, he felt a tightening in his stomach and a ticklish feeling at the tip of his cock. Then it happened. That magical feeling of an orgasm taking over his whole body. His toes curling up, his breath suspended, his hips thrust upwards and the horrible goo being shot out of his cock like last night. Only this time he was fully awake and able to experience the most glorious of sensations. Mack stopped stroking when the goo stopped flowing.

"There, that didn't hurt, did it?" he giggled.

"Oh hell no. I can take this anytime you want to do it to me."

"Same here, buddy. The virus is terrible but this kind of regular treatment is awesome."

"How often do we have to do this?"

"Usually once a day is enough, but sometimes more is required."

"I usually don't like being sick, but I do like the cure."

"Not really a cure. It's like a diabetic that has to take insulin every day. It doesn't cure the disease but it make it manageable."

"I'm exhausted now. Let's clean up and get some sleep. What events do we have tomorrow?"

"Archery is first, then the shooting range."

"I don't think I'll be much help tomorrow. I'm not very good at archery," Bert confessed.

"Just do your best and we'll be good. George is a putz as an Assistant Senior Patrol Leader, but he makes William Tell look like a beginner with a bow and arrow. He always carries the troop at the archery range."

The boys went to sleep, enjoying a peaceful night rest after having enjoyed some mutual handjobs.

After breakfast the next morning, the troop headed to the archery range. They got their name on the firing order with four troops going before them. Bert watched intently at all the other boys to see if he could pick up any pointers. Troop 17 was called to the firing line and got ready to fire. Bert was looking at the other boys as they began. George stood steady, took aim and his arrow flew right to the bulls eye. The others hit the target to accumulate some points but George was the only one to consistently hit the bulls eye. Bert finally took his turn, the first arrow went clear over the top of the target. His next shot fell short and hit the ground about four feet in front of the target. His next four arrows barely hit the target, only adding a few points to the troop's total. They all gathered at the entrance to the range to leave for the shooting range.

"Sorry guys, I told Mack I wasn't any good at archery," Bert apologized. "It was a good thing we had George on our team."

George beamed and thanked Bert. The other boys told Bert it was no big deal. They still had the top score.

The range master at the rifle range greeted Mack. He remembered him as a regular at the last few Jamborees.

"Hey Mack, how is the troop doing this year?"

"We're doing great, Mr. Walsh. We have a new boy in the troop and he's a pretty talented guy. He has us leading in several events so far. Bert, come over here and meet Mr. Walsh."

"How do you do. Bert Bailey, sir," Bert introduced himself.

"Mack tells me you're knocking them dead in the events. Have you ever shot a rifle before?"

"Yes sir, a few times."

"Then let's see what you can do."

He went over the rules and had the boys take their stations. He had Mack help him hand out the 22 caliber rifles the boys would shoot.

"Here's you gun, Bert. It's a Remmington, a good make."

"A popular manufacturer, Mack. But popular does not always equate to good."

Mr. Walsh came to Bert and gave him five bullets to load his rifle.

"You're the new boy so I want to see how well you shoot. Consider this one a practice round."

"Yes sir, thank you sir."

Bert took his position and aimed his rifle. He fired all five rounds in rapid fire.

"Slow down, son, this isn't a timed event."

"Sorry sir."

One of the boys was sent down to get the target and bring it back to Mr. Walsh. Mack looked over his shoulder to see how well Bert had done.

"Better than the archery range. At least you hit the paper," Mack joked.

"See son, if you slowed down you might have had a better grouping. You shots were from one side to the other and none hit the bulls eye."

"I hit what I was aiming at."

"You hit some of the lines and the logo in the corner but that's it."

"May I see your marker please?" Bert asked.

The range master has a permanent marker that he circled the holes in the targets to score a target. He handed Bert the marker. Bert started with the first shot, high and to the left on the outside ring and connected it to the next shot, lower and closer to the center. Then he drew a line to the center and then connected the next two shots, straight down. He turned the target to Mack and Mr. Walsh.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"It's 10:30," Mack answered.

Bert pointed to the target and smiled. The lines he drew represented the hands of a clock at 10:30.

"No fucking way!" Mack yelled. "Sorry about the language, Mr. Walsh."

"What about the shot in the logo?"

"That was my first shot to see how accurate the sights were," Bert told them.

"If you did do that deliberately then you would have no problem hitting the bulls eye with another five rounds," Mr. Walsh threw down a challenge.

"Can I borrow you marker again?"

Bert took the marker and drew the outline of a raccoon on a new target, the animal's eye being the bulls eye on the paper. Mr. Walsh handed him 5 more bullets.

"Makes it more interesting this way instead of shooting a piece of paper. I usually hunt with my Savage bolt action with 34gr Winchester Supreme ammo. A little more recoil but more stopping power. The 20 gr. you use here shoots straighter with less recoil, good for target shooting."

Mr. Walsh sent one of the boys to hang the target for Bert. When the boy returned, Bert raised his rifle and fired all five rounds, again in rapid fire. The boy went and retrieved the target and brought it back. The bull's eye was completely shot out of the target. Bert took the target and held it up in front of his face. He looked through the hole at Mr. Walsh.

"Watch out, the raccoon is watching you," he laughed.

Mr. Walsh rubbed his chin and looked at Mack and then back at Bert.

"Where did you say you came from, son?"

"Hazard, KY, sir. My daddy taught me how to shoot when I was five. I've been hunting ever since."

The troop broke out in applause. Mr. Walsh shook Bert's hand and took the target to hang in this shed where he stored his supplies.

"If you don't mind, I'm going to keep this. If I tell anyone about this, they won't believe me unless I have the proof."

The rest of the boys took their turns shooting and left the range to go back to their campsite. They had a free period so most opted to go to the waterfront and swim.

Bert and Mack were changing into their swim trunks in their tent. Mack was facing Bert when he dropped his shorts and underwear, much to the delight of Bert.

"Do you think we should unload before we go swimming?" Bert asked with a grin.

"Let's wait until tonight. I don't think we'll have any problems this afternoon. It hasn't been that long since we unloaded last night."

"Okay. You're the expert with this. I just figured this might be trouble," Bert said as he pointed to his cock. He had stiffened up front the sight of Mack undressing. Mack was chubbed up but not full on hard.

"That will go away as soon as you hit the cold water. You'll be good."

They went to the waterfront and checked in. They swam around a little to loosen up, then swan towards the raft in the middle of the lake. Half way there they passed a swimmer coming back to shore. Bert noticed he was having a hard time so asked him if he was okay.

"I'm good," the boy said as he was struggling to get his breath. He stopped swimming and tried to tread water. "No, I'm not okay." he said as he dipped below the water then bobbed back up again. He dipped below the water again and did come right back up.

"MACK! Call for the lifeguard. This kid is in trouble." Bert yelled.

Bert dove underwater to see if he could find the boy. He wasn't too far down so Bert swam down and grabbed the boy by the hair to pull him up to the surface. The boy was choking and coughing, thrashing around and panicking. Bert tried to reassure him that he was okay and calm him down but he was not having any success. Bert wrapped his arm up under the boy's armpit and around his chest. Once he had a firm grip on him, Bert began to do a sidestroke towards shore. He was half way there when one of the lifeguards met him and took control of the young boy. Mack and Bert swam along beside the lifeguard until they reached shore. The lifeguard dragged the boy onto the beach and made sure he was okay. He turned to Bert,

"Damn, kid, you just saved his life. I don't know if I could've reached him in time. Where did you learn to do a rescue like that?"

"My dumb cousin Earl used to go out over his head every time we were at the swimming hole. He couldn't swim but went out deep anyway. He was my cousin so I was the one who had to drag his stupid ass back to shallow water."

Bert saw the camp director and other adults running towards them, shouting to ask if an ambulance was needed. Bert didn't want this to be a big deal so he leaned over to the lifeguard.

"I had nothing to do with this, understand?" he whispered. Then in a loud voice, "Damn, that was an awesome rescue. It's a good thing you reached him in time before he drown."

Bert winked at the lifeguard then jumped up and motioned Mack to follow him as they ran to the changing cabin.

"What the hell, Bert? You saved that kid's life and you laid it off on the lifeguard?"

"It's for our own good. The camp nurse would probably want to check out both of us. I was afraid she might find out I had the virus. Let's get changed and get out of here."

Bert didn't tell Mack the real reason. As he was pulling the boy to shore, one of the boy's legs fell between Bert's legs. The contact of the boy's bare back against Bert's chest and the leg sliding up and down in Bert's crotch as he kicked was making Bert chub up. He wasn't sure why but he knew he didn't want to be the center of attention on shore.

The boys went back to their campsite and sat by the fire pit.

"Buddy, you're a fucking hero and you don't want anyone to know?" Mack said to Bert.

"Yes, this stays between you and I, okay?"

"Sure whatever you want, buddy. But you and I both know you're one brave little son of a bitch."

Bert smiled, not at the compliment but the fact that Mack was still calling him 'buddy'.

"I'm going to take a shower to wash off the sand from the beach. I'll be back in a little while."

"Want me to go with you? Maybe you need someone to prevent you from drowning," Mack joked.

"I'm good. Thanks though."

The shower house was deserted as Bert undressed and went to shower. He had enough attention this week and was afraid of the other boys in the troop becoming jealous of him. He wanted to make friends, not alienate anyone. His mind was too consumed to think about anything else so he was still flaccid when he dried off and got dressed.

He got back to the campsite and found Mack inside the tent, laying on his cot still fully dressed.

"How was the shower?"

"I cleansed my body and my soul," he laughed.

The tent flap was pulled back and a voice from outside asked if he could come in. It was the lifeguard, Bruce.

"Hey Mack. You were telling me about this guy but I had no idea he was a fucking superman. You're the talk of the whole camp"

Bert's face turned red.

"Wait, you've been talking about me?" Bert asked Mack.

"Are you kidding, of course I've been bragging about you.. I've been telling anyone who will listen all about you."

"ALL about me? You didn't mention, . . . you know," and nodded towards his crotch.

"Oh, the virus? No, I haven't told anyone about that. But Bruce has it too. He and I have helped each other from time to time, along with a few other of my friends."

Bert's face got even redder.

"Seriously? You got the virus too?"

"Yeah, but thanks to Mack I'm able to manage. Speaking of which, Mack, I've haven't unloaded in a few days. All the swimming has made my arm cramp up before I can get done."

What Bert didn't know was that Mack had filled Bruce in on the joke he was playing on Bert. The two of them were going to try and take it to the next level, hoping Bert would go along.

"I've got to get back to the waterfront but I was wondering if you could help me out before I go."

"Sure. Um, Bert, you don't mind if I help Bruce, do you?"

"No, I guess not. I can wait outside until you're finished."

"No need, Bert. I don't want to make you leave your tent," Bruce told him. "You can stay, I insist."

"Okay, whatever you guys want."

Bruce pulled down his orange lifeguard swim trunks and presented his flaccid cock to Mack. Bert moved to the end of Mack's cot so he could get a better view of Bruce's cock. It was hanging limp, looking like it had no interest in what was going on. Mack reached out and took the cock in his hand and massaged it. Slowly it started to respond. Mack filled his other hand with Bruce's balls and went to work on them as well. A few minutes had gone by when Bruce spoke up.

"See, Mack, it's not responded like it should. Any ideas?"

"Occasionally this happens. You're load may have to be sucked out."

"Shit! Can you help me with that?"

"Of course. That's what friends are for. Besides, I may need it done some time too."

You're the best, Mack."

Bert was confused about what Mack was going to do. Did he have some kind of pump or so something? Bert's mouth fell open as Mack brought his face to Bruce and pointed the cock towards his open mouth. Before Bert could even comprehend what was about to happen, Mack swallowed Bruce's cock to the hilt.

"I think it's working, Mack, keep doing it," Bruce said as he put his hand on Mack's head.

Bert stared in awe at this new way of unloading.

"Hell, Mack, you've swallowed the whole thing!" Bert exclaimed. "Does that hurt?"

Mack shook his head without giving a verbal answer. The longer he sucked Bruce's cock, the harder Bert's cock became. He was tempted to take it out and stroke it like Mack had taught him but this was all about Bruce. That, and he couldn't take his eyes off the action not four feet away from him.

Suddenly Bruce cried out,

"Fuck yeah, Mack, you've done it!"

Bruce pulled his cock out of Mack's mouth and shot his load all over Mack's chest. Mack looked up at him and smiled.

"Do you have to do that often, Mack?'

"Desperate times call for desperate measures. What ever it takes to help a friend."

"And a good friend you are. You're lucky to have him as a friend as well, Bert."

Bruce pulled his swim trunks back up and left to go back to the waterfront. Mack grabbed a towel and wiped his chest. He smiled at Bert.

"Totally manageable with the right treatment."

Bert was still frozen in place having just witnessed an impromptu blow job.

"Did it hurt? Isn't it disgusting? How did you learn to do that?" Bert fired questions at Mack.

"Whoa, slow down, buddy. We can talk tonight. Right now we have to get ready to go to supper."

The boys changed for supper and headed to the dining hall. Mr. Jackson, the Scoutmaster, stopped at their table.

"I understand you boys had some excitement down at the waterfront today."

"Yes, sir," Mack answered. "Bruce saved a boy from drowning.."

"I heard you and Bert were involved in the rescue as well."

"I just showed Bruce where the boy went under and then Mack and I swam with him back to shore. Bruce was the hero," Bert explained.

"It's a good thing you were all on your toes. I'm sure that boy appreciates your quick actions."

"Yes sir."

After supper the boys gathered at the amphitheater for the nightly closing ceremony. The camp director got up to speak before the formal closing.

"I would like to ask our lifeguard Bruce, Senior Patrol Leader Mack and a brave young Scout, Bert, to all come up on the stage."

"I'm going back to the tent, I'll meet you there," Bert said to Mack.

"Oh no you don't, you're coming with us."

The three boys walked up on the stage to a round of applause.

"There was an incident at the waterfront today that could have turned tragic if it wasn't for the bravery and selflessness of these three boys. I was going to save this for the end of the Jamboree awards but Bruce is leaving a day early and won't be here then. I have the Meritorious Boy Scout Award to present to each of you. Bruce would you come step forward."

The camp director pinned the award on Bruce's uniform shirt.

"Would you like to say anything?"

"Yes, sir, thank you sir. I was just doing the job that I volunteered for, nothing more, nothing less."

"Such modesty. Mack, would you step up."

The camp director pinned the award on Mack's uniform.

"And would you like to say anything, Mack?"

"Thank you, sir. My only involvement was to swim along with Bruce in case he got tired and helped him carry the boy onto the beach."

"And Bert? You're new at the Jamboree this year. I hope we see you again every year going forward."

"Yes sir. Like Mack, I just swam along as Bruce was doing his job. It was no big deal."

"Let's give these boys a big round of applause. I'm sure the young man recovering in the hospital tonight thinks what they did was a big deal. One last thing. There is a storm forecast for later tonight so when you get back to your campsites, make sure to check your tents to make sure the lines are tight and stow away anything that shouldn't get wet. "

After the closing was completed, the boys filed out of the amphitheater, congratulating the three heroes as they left. The camp director pulled Mack and Bert to one side to talk to them privately.

"Look you two, I know exactly what you did this afternoon. Bert, if you hadn't swam down to get the boy and then started pulling him to shore, Bruce may not have been able to get to him in time. And Mack, Your quick actions made all the difference between a rescue effort and a recovery effort. I don't know why you're down playing this, but I guess you have your reasons."

"It was just friends helping friends. A lot of that happens in camp that nobody ever hears about. We just do it when someone needs some help."

Mack nudged Bert before he went too far in his explanation of 'helping' friends.

The boys finally got back to their tent and checked the lines and the pegs to make sure it was secure in advance of the storm. They changed out of their uniforms and put on some casual clothes to go and sit by the troop campfire. When pressed to talk about the rescue, Mack jumped in and told everyone it was traumatic watching a boy almost drown and they'd rather not keep talking about it. Everyone understood and changed the subject. As the fire was dying down, one by one the Scouts retreated to their tents. Mack and Bert were the last two. They sat quietly until the flames had flickered out and there was nothing left but the bright red embers casting eerie shadows on the boys faces.. They doused the fire and went to their tent, got undressed and lay on their cots. Bert was the first one to talk.

"Mack, about what you did today . . ."

"I really didn't do anything, it was all you and Bruce."

"No, not in the water. After when Bruce came to the tent with his 'problem'."

"Oh, that. What about it?"

"You said you'd show me all about it later. Well it's later. Will you teach me about it?"

"You want me to do it to you?"

"No, I want to do it to you. Can I?"

"Are you sure you want to? I mean, it's pretty extreme."

"But suppose you have trouble unloading? I want to make sure I'm able to help you out the way you helped Bruce."

"I suppose so. If you're really sure."

"Yes, I am. As sure as I can be about anything. You're my best friend and I want to do what I can for you, whenever I can."

"Thanks, buddy, I appreciate that. Come over here."

Mack pulled off his underwear as Bert moved to the side of Mack's cot. His cock was already at half-mast. He swung around and hung his legs over the side of the cot, spreading them to give Bert complete access to his crotch. By now his cock was as hard as it gets.

"Will it taste funny? It won't taste like piss, will it?" Bert asked.

"Here, put my finger in your mouth. Does that taste funny?"

"No, but that's different."

"It's the same skin as my finger, just bigger. If some of the clear stuff comes out it might taste a little salty, but not bad. I kind of enjoy that taste when I did it to Bruce today. He pulled out of my mouth before he unloaded the goo. That can really be overwhelming I'll do the same for you. Okay?"


Bert moved in closer and took Mack's boner in his hand. He pumped it a few times then brought his mouth right up to it. There was a drop of precum on the tip so he stuck out his tongue and licked it.

"You're right. The clear goo tastes salty, but not gross."

"I told you so. I wouldn't lie to you about any of this."

Mack was starting to feel a pang of guilt, deceiving Bert about this whole virus thing. Not enough guilt to make his stop the charade, however, as he was about to get a blowjob from him. Bert had a hot little smooth skinned body and Mack was in his glory being about to guide Bert into his sexy activities.

Bert put his mouth back to Mack's cock and opened his mouth to take it in. He lowered his head a little at a time until he began to gag.

"Easy, buddy, don't try to get the whole thing in all at once. Just take what you can manage and then work up and down on it."

Bert mumbled okay with a mouthful of hard cock. He began to withdraw and then go back down. He was able to go a little further each time until he was able to take all of Mack in his mouth and throat.

"Holy shit, you've got all of me in you. No one had been able to do that before. It feels so great."

Bert was having a hard time wrapping his head around this. He had only meet Mack a few weeks ago and now they were solid friends. Mack kept referring to him as buddy and was his constant companion at camp. As if that wasn't enough, now his new found friend was letting him help to unload the goo that had accumulated in Mack's body from this damn virus. His father was right, joining the troop was a good way to make new friends. Bert wondered if this friendship would continue when the Jamboree was over and they returned home.

Bert pulled back partway and began to massage the throbbing cock with his tongue. It just seemed the natural thing to do. Bert could tell he was doing something right from the moans coming out of Mack. Bert put his hands up on the side of Mack's thighs and pulled him tight, closing his legs up against the side of Bert's head. Mack's body stiffened as he pushed Bert's head off his cock. His cock erupted, firing volley after volley of hot white creamy goo all over his stomach. Bert sat back on his haunches, smiling at Mack.

"Oh my god, that was incredible! Where did you learn to do that?" Mack asked

"From watching you and Bruce this afternoon. You're a good teacher."

Mack should have known better than that, but he was still enjoying the euphoric high of his orgasm, a fantastic one at that.

"Do you want me to do you now?" Mack asked.

"Maybe tomorrow night. Somehow helping you coaxed the goo out of me and I unloaded just before you did. Let's just go to sleep."

"Okay. Thanks for the help. I can really get a good night's sleep now."

That wasn't to be the case however. Just after midnight the storm arrived. It started with some rain that got increasingly heavier as the wind picked up. The tent shook at the relentless gusts of wind accompanied by the deafening sound of the huge rain drops on the nylon tent. Both the boys woke up and rolled over to look at one another.

"Bert, are you awake?"

"Like I could sleep through this. You think the tent will survive?"

"It should. I've been through worse storms than this. Are you getting scared?"

"Nope. As long as I'm dry in here with you, it's all good."

Fifteen minutes later the boys were jolted awake by a flash of lightening that lit up the inside of the tent like it was noontime, followed by a loud clap of thunder that shook the ground.

"Fuck! That sounded like it was right outside the tent." Mack yelled out.

"There was fifteen seconds between the lightening and the thunder. That means it hit about three miles away," Bert told him.

"Are you sure? It sounded closer."

"You want me to go out and measure it?" Bert laughed.

"No, just sounded closer, that's all."

Another flash of lightening and another clap of thunder soon followed.

"Is it getting closer?" Mack asked

"The only time you have to worry is when you hear the thunder at the same time as the lightening. Then you're in trouble."

"If you're scared, you can come sleep in my cot with me."

"I'm good, thanks," too tired to make the effort to move.

Round after round of theatrics from the storm kept the boys awake.

"If you're scared, it's nothing to be ashamed of. You welcome to come in my cot," Mack repeated for the third time.

Bert finally figured out that Mack wasn't as much concerned about him being scared of the storm, it was Mack who was jittery.

"Maybe I will join you if you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all, anything for my buddy."

Bert could hear the relief in Mack's voice. He went over to Mack's cot and lifted the sleeping bag to climb in. Bert hadn't given it much thought but they were both naked. Mack was on his side and pulled Bert to him, draping his arm over Bert's side so they were spooning. The touch of some much of Mack's naked body was giving Bert a tingle that he hoped wouldn't result in the unloading of more goo. Each subsequent roll of lightening and thunder had Mack twitch and tighten his grip on Bert. Bert lifted his arm and locked it over Mack's arm, keeping them locked together. Bert felt Mack relax slightly but Bert could tell he was still nervous. Normally this much contact would have brought Mack's cock to full attention but the storm had consumed his mind. They eventually fell asleep in each other's arms.

Bert woke up the next morning in the same position that he fell asleep in, his back snuggled up to Mack. Mack was still asleep but his morning hardon was poking Bert in the ass. Bert was about to roll over and see if Mack needed help unloading some more goo when he heard the scoutmaster going around to each of the tents waking everyone and telling them to get dressed and ready for breakfast. Any help for Mack would have to wait.

They walked to the dining hall and saw some miscellaneous branches and a few limbs on the ground from last night's storm. Troops 17's event for the day was orienteering. They would follow a map and a compass direction to go from station to station, picking up a tag from each one. Judging was based on the number of tags recovered and the amount of time it took.

Mack was leading the troop with the compass and the map. Before they left camp, Bert looked over his shoulder to see where the sun was in the sky. They got to the first station relatively quickly, picked up a tag and changed direction to go to the next station. It was a little more difficult but they didn't lose any time. Heading for the third point, Mack tripped on a root sticking up out of the ground and smashed the compass as he fell. It was unusable. The boys helped Mack to his feet and once they determined he wasn't hurt, they bemoaned the fact that the compass was broken and they wouldn't find the next station. Hell, they might not even find their way out of the woods.

Bert again looked to the sky. One of the boys caught him looking up and asked if he was praying. That produced a round of laughter from everyone, except Bert.

"Let me look at the map, Mack," Bert asked.

"Here. But it won't do any good without the compass. We won't know which direction to go to get to the next station."

Bert studied the map and then asked Mack to look at it, turning it one way and then another..

"We're about here, right?"

"A little further up this way," Mack pointed with this finger on the map.

Mack caught Bert looking skyward again then holding the map so one finger was extended more than the rest. He wiggled it to get Mack's attention, then nodded his head to the left.

"It's not going to get us anywhere just standing around, so pick a direction, Mack, and we'll follow you."

Mack picked up on Bert subtle finger pointing and head nodding on what direction they should follow. Mack made a good show of looking around in each direction, studying his options.

"Come on guys, this is the way to the next station," Mack announced as he started walking.

The troop was hesitant to follow at first until Bert spoke up.

"He's our Senior Patrol Leader. He has more experience than any of us so if he says this is the direction to go, then let's go!"

The boys shrugged their shoulders and fell in line behind Mack.

They found the next station and then the next and completed the whole course. They did lose some time but they finished in third place for the event. They all headed off to enjoy some free time for the rest of the day.

"How the hell did you know which direction to go?" Mack asked Bert once they were alone.

"Easy. I kept watching where the sun was in the sky and the shadows the trees were throwing. The sun rises in the East and sets in the West. It was still morning so the sun was in the eastern sky and the shadows of the trees were pointing west. I've never gotten lost in the woods at home and never used a store bought compass, I used Mother Nature's compass."

"I thought I was supposed to be teaching you things, not the other way around."

"You've taught me about the virus. That's big."

"Speaking of big, do you want to go back to our tent for a while?" Mack asked as he discreetly grabbed his crotch.

"I couldn't think of a better idea," Bert grinned.

On their way back to the tent, they ran into Kyle, another close friend of Mack's. He pulled Mack to one side and the two of them talked softly. Mack nodded his head and shook Kyle's hand.

"Kyle wants to come back to the tent with us and help him with a problem he has," Mack told Bert.

He didn't tell Bert what the 'problem' was but Bert had a pretty good idea. The idea of seeing Mack give another guy a blowjob had him chubbing up. They got back to the campsite and went in the tent. Bert sat on his cot and Mack and Kyle sat on the other cot.

"I hate to impose on you but I didn't know what else to do. I've been hard all morning but I can't get the goo to unload. I've tried to get it to come out myself and Bruce even tried to suck it out, but nothing. Do you think you could try and push it out?" Kyle asked.

Bert was confused. He had never heard about pushing it out. What the heck would that involve?

"You know I'll help," Mack told him.

Kyle stood up and turned his back to Mack and dropped his pants. Bert's eyes got as big as saucers at the sight of Kyle's huge cock staring him right in the face. He was tempted to grab it and stroke it or maybe even suck it but Kyle had already said neither of those methods had worked. There was a drop of that clear stuff at the tip so Bert knew Kyle was going to be unloading soon.

Kyle bent over and grabbed his ass cheeks, pulling them apart. Mack spit on his finger then rubbed it on Kyle's ass. That's the wrong side, Bert thought to himself. The goo doesn't come out there. But Kyle said something about pushing it out. Mack spit on his fingers again and then pushed a finger into Kyle's pucker. Kyle immediately started to moan, leaning further over and grabbing the side of Bert's cot.

"Oh yeah, Mack, that's the way. Push harder and make me unload."

Mack was working his finger in and out, pushing as hard as he could every time he went back in. After a few minutes, Kyle called out to Mack.

"It almost working but I think you need to use something bigger. I know that will do it for me."

Mack stood up and dropped his shorts. He spit in his hand and rubbed his saliva all over his stiff cock. He moved behind Kyle, grabbed his hips and pulled himself up against Kyle's ass. He guided his cock towards his target and thrust into Kyle. Kyle stifled a yell by biting on his hand.

"Oh fuck yeah, that's what I needed," Kyle said as he removed his hand.

Mack began to sway back and forth, ramming into Kyle with everything he had. Bert got off his cot and came around to look to confirm that Mack's cock was indeed going into Kyle's ass. Bert slumped down on the floor and looked under Kyle's stomach as his cock flailing back and forth, a steady stream of clear liquid dripping off. Kyle yelled back to Mack,

"One more time, hard and deep."

Mack pushed so hard that they moved Bert's cot up against the side of the tent.

"Fuck yeah!" Kyle yelled out as he finally got to unload the white goo. It shot all over the floor and dribbled down his legs.

Mack pulled out and grabbed his boner, aiming it at Kyle's back as he unloaded his load of goo. Kyle slumped forward onto Bert's cot and Mack fell backwards on his.

"That takes a lot of work, Bert, but thankfully it isn't often we have to get the goo out that way."

Bert just nodded his head and got the towel they use to clean up, handing it to Kyle to wipe himself off.

"Hey, thanks Mack, I owe you one."

Kyle pulled up his shorts and left the tent.

"Man, that was extreme. Will I have to do that some time to get the goo out?"

"Maybe, maybe not."

"Have you had to do it?"

"Once or twice. Luckily it was always here at camp where I could find someone to help me do it."

"I suppose I could help after we get home if you needed it. That is, if you wanted me to help."

"Wow, thanks for offering little buddy, I'll definitely keep that in mind."

"And if I needed it, would you help me?"

"Of course."

Bert was really feeling relieved knowing that Mack would help him. He didn't want to join Boy Scouts and he didn't want to come to this Jamboree but it turns out to be the best thing he ever did. He made a friend, a good friend, who took him under his wing and taught him how to deal with this damn virus. And now he says he is willing to keep helping him when they get home. Can it get any better than this?

The Jamboree was coming to an end. At the closing ceremony the camp master called Mack up on the stage to get the award for top troop of the event. Mack stood up and waved all of the boys in the troop to come up with him.

"This was s troop effort. We all had a hand in earning this award," he told the camp master.

Before they could leave the stage, he announced that Bert was the top scout of the event. Again, the modesty kicked in.

"Thank you but I couldn't have done any of these things if the troop wasn't behind me one hundred percent. They taught me so much about being here in camp, things I never knew I have to deal with."

Mack was next to Bert and gave him a nudge so he wouldn't talk too much.

The boys broke camp and loaded their gear on the bus. The ride home was very quiet, the week of exhaustion finally catching up with them. They got back to the church and unloaded the bus. The troop was going to meet the next afternoon to properly put away all the gear until the next camping trip.

Mack pulled Bert to one side when they were done.

"Bert, I have to tell you something. I don't really know how to begin but I can't keep this to myself any longer. I really feel awful about what happened at camp."

"What is it, Mack? You know you can tell me anything."

Just then Bert's father arrived.

"Hey Bert, if you're dismissed we have to get going. We have to get home for supper. Your mother cooked a huge welcome home meal and we can't be late."

"Coming father. Hey Mack, we can talk tomorrow. I have to leave. I have something to tell you as well."

"But . . . well, okay. Tomorrow then."

Bert couldn't wait to get home and tell his mother all about the fun he had at camp. Well, not all of the fun, just the G rated stuff. After supper he went to his room to call his best friend back in Kentucky.

"Hey Donny, how is it going?" Bert asked as soon as his friend picked up.

"Shit, I miss the hell out of you. How are you doing?"

"I was miserable until my father made to join Boy Scouts and go to a Jamboree. You think we had fun together, I've done more stroking and sucking and fucking in the past two weeks than we ever did over an entire summer!"

Bert told Donny the story about the 'virus' and the need to unload regularly. And did they ever!

"They actually thought you were dumb enough to believe all that crap?" Donny asked.

"I'm just a dumb country boy so I'd believe anything they told me," Bert laughed. "I was going to tell my new friend Mack that I knew they were bullshitting me all along, but I think I play dumb a little longer and see how far I can take it. He is a real hunk and the sex is great."

"Better than me?" Donny asked with fake hurt.

"Nobody has a better cock than yours for sucking and fucking, but this guy is definitely a close second. I'll know if he's better when he finally gets to fuck me. I can't wait. My hole misses being filled up with stiff cock and hot cum. Excuse me, hot goo."

They both laughed and carried on their conversation, reminiscing about some of their hotter sexual adventures they had together back in Kentucky.

Thank for following the adventure that Bert and Mack enjoyed at the Boy Scout Jamboree. Once they get settled back at home, they fun just might continue.

I always enjoy getting feedback, good or bad, from my readers. If you have an opportunity, drop me an email and share your thoughts.

Jonathan Perkins


This story is part of the 2024 story challenge "Inspired by a Picture: Jamboree". The other stories may be found at the challenge home page. Please read them, too. The voting period of 29 August 2023 to 20 September 2023 is when the voting is open. This story may be rated, below, against a set of criteria, and may be rated against other stories on the challenge home page.

The challenge was to write a story inspired by this picture:

2024 Inspired by a Picture Challenge - Jamboree

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