Influence

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By cca651

The camp road twisted and turned through a thick stand of oaks, petering out finally atop a windswept field which sloped gently down to a long, narrow lake. Dad stopped the truck on the dirt patch at the top of the hill and killed the engine and headlights. A warm wind, strong for that time of night, blew in through my open window, knocking a map off the dashboard. The moonless sky was deep with stars and their faint glow illuminated a dozen tents erected at random intervals down the hillside. . I could even make out the orderly procession of whitecaps drifting from west to east across the black water below.

“Guess this is it” I tried to hide my slight apprehension.

“Suppose anyone waited up for you?” Dad said, leaning forward over the steering wheel and squinting through the bug-smeared windshield.

A soft scuffing in the dirt outside my window was the only warning before a guy‘s head appeared suddenly, so close to me that I recoiled slightly in shock. He smiled at my flinch and said “sorry” softly, then “Charlie?”

“Yeah…shit!” I laughed, my eyes had to roam to encompass his entire face, he was that close.

Faint black goatee. Full lips. Eyes catching a tiny gleam from somewhere in all that darkness.

He leaned in further, reaching past me to offer his hand to Dad.

“Mr. Rorem ? Cal Swedberg. I’m head counselor. Glad to see you found the place OK.” He talked softly as if this was a nursery and he’d just put the babies down.

They murmured some pleasantries while I tried to regain my composure. Cal, who was leaning in so close that if I stuck out my tongue I could lick his big bicep, was the most spectacular man I’d ever seen in the flesh (well, outside of myself when I’d been messing around in front of the mirror in my bedroom – and of course Dad that one time I showed him what I could do…). He was wearing

nothing but a pair of gym shorts – even in the darkness I could tell there wasn’t a centimeter of material that wasn’t stretched tight across something…

“Charlie – “

I snapped out of my crotch-inspection and met Cal’s gaze ruefully. “Yeah?”

“I’ve got what might be some bad news, especially if you were planning on messing around while you were here…”

“What?” I said, taken aback. Had he seen me scoping him out? Did he already know how hot I was for him? Was he confronting me right here in front of my dad?

“Well, we’ve paired-up all the boys and you’re the odd man out. I guess that’s the price you pay for getting here last. We don’t let any of the boys stay alone in a tent,” he said more to my Dad than to me, “so it looks like you’re stuck bunking with me.”

“Oh, that’s OK. Great. Great-great. I mean, no problem…” I said, sounding about as nonchalant as Winona Ryder being questioned outside a department store.

“See that tent furthest to the right, down by the water?” he pointed to one pitched slightly apart from the rest. It glowed, faintly, red. “That’s mine. Why don’t you say goodbye to your dad and bring your stuff down when you’re ready.” With that he stood and sauntered away down the hill.

My eyes trailed after him, absorbing every possible detail (Wide back! Super-round ass!) before the darkness robbed me of my new treasure.

“Alright, I guess I’ll head out,” Dad said.

“You’re not going to try to drive all the way back, are you?”

“No, there was that hotel about 15 miles up the road…”

“Dad, that place looked like the Bates motel!”

He pulled me to him and we hugged.

“No, really Dad – stay out of the shower!” I said and could feel his body shake when he chuckled.

He squeezed me hard and we separated. This would be our first extended time apart since Mom died.

We got out and he helped me lift my pack out of the back of the truck.

“Have fun, son.”

“I will, Dad.”

“And be good.”

“I will.”

“I’ll be back on Saturday.”

“Great.”

“Go easy on Cal. Don’t short-sheet his sleeping bag.”

“No.” I broke the eye-lock and looked down.

I stood and listened until the sound of his truck tires had completely faded away before shouldering my pack and starting down the hill. The wind moaned through some distant barn or silo and I could smell the lake long before I was close enough to hear the waves slapping against the shoreline. The tents I passed were dark, but I caught the sounds of quiet conversation from a few of them before they heard my footsteps and fell silent.

The inside of Cal’s tent was suffused with a soft red glow emanating from a flashlight he’d stood on its end. I peered through the meshed screen flap and saw him lying on his back, head cradled in his hands. He had one leg extended towards me and the other was crooked and swaying back and forth idly, causing his upper thigh to rock into his package - the big mound seemed to be taking slow, deep breaths of its own. He raised his head and caught my eye.

“Leave your stuff out there – it won’t rain tonight. Get undressed and just bring your sleeping bag in.”

Crouching behind the tent away from the other campers I stripped down to my briefs. I wanted to make myself bigger before Cal really got a good look at me. Normally, I kept my body at the size I’d made it before Dad even knew what I could do. Before that, three times a week I’d pretend to work out at the school gym but I never even broke a sweat and just pumped light weights while checking out the other guys. Then, once or twice a week I’d make myself a little bigger - gradually, but faster than I could have ever accomplished through exercise. It took about a year to get where I wanted without arousing suspicion. These were my ‘growth-spurt’ years anyway so people who hadn’t seen me in a month or two did double takes, then shrugged. Now my pecs and ass jutted out in perfect rounded opposition to each other, strong and full, and I made my basket big enough to make an impression even in the baggiest pants. Still, once Dad found out and started watching me with an eagle eye I had to keep it believable so I left my everyday body as-is. Now, in the dark behind the tent I filled out an inch or two in the arms, chest, ass and thighs. It looked like a Macy’s Thanksgiving balloon being given an extra couple shots of helium and it felt incredible. Lastly, I added some girth to my cock and balls – they got so heavy they pulled the front waistband of my underwear nearly down to my pubes. Putting one hand on a pec and the other on an ass cheek, I gave them an appraising grope, then adjusted my package and crawled into the tent, pushing my sleeping bag before me.

Cal’s jaw dropped when he saw me and he sat up on his elbows.

“I think we’re going to need a bigger tent!” he laughed in amazement. “I thought I was going to be bunking with a skinny teenager!”

I knelt there on my hands and knees, my big pecs hanging down between my pumped biceps and grinned

at him bashfully. “Sorry, “I said. “I’m kinda big for my age…”

He pushed as far to his side of the tent as he could while I spread my sleeping bag out and flopped down facing him. He lay back down facing me and ran his eyes up and down my body in the soft red light.

“So what’re you taking?” he whispered.

“Nothing. Exercise…and genetics, I guess.”

“Yeah, your dad looked like a big guy, but … shit, man!” He laughed again.

“What about you?” I said slapping his chest with the back of my hand (we were so close it took no more than a flick of my wrist), “How’d YOU get so big? You look fantastic!”

“No idea,” he shrugged. “I don’t even exercise. Five years ago my folks sent me here cuz I was a skinny video-game addict. Now I look like this. The owner of this place says it happens all the time...says its all diet and fresh air. Right. THIS from fresh air?”

He grabbed as much of his crotch as one hand could contain and gave it a hard shake Part of it actually knocked against my own bulging sack. “Oops!” he said, releasing the heavy mass.

“Let’s just say I haven’t had trouble getting a girl since I started coming to Camp Cirrus!” he whispered, leaning forward confidentially.

My heart sank. If I was going to have sex with Cal I’d have to go inside him, use my influence. Sure, he could be bullshitting me with the girl talk – enough guys had tried that…but I’d never met a gay guy, even the ones who hadn’t admitted it to themselves, who could be this close to me, physically, and not given it away. Even Mr. Driscoll, the high school gym teach with 6 kids, started giving us sports tips while we showered just so he could run his eyes over me as I innocently rubbed liquid soap into my ass crack.

“Well, it’s late. Let’s get some sleep or I’ll be groggy tomorrow and a kid will drown. We’ve got a pair of twins this year and they’ve already pretended to be each other twice since this morning…” he sighed, switching off the flashlight. I heard him exhale as he lay back

I rolled back too, suddenly exhausted. I remember thinking that the rhythmic chirping of a million crickets sounded just like sleigh bells jingling before I slipped into unconsciousness.

I had a sex dream about Cal that night. We were still in the tent but both of us had grown huge.

Cal was on top of me but inverted, his face pressed into my volleyball-sized balls while his own huge crotch pressed down against my head. We were so big that the tent constricted around us like a tight cocoon, binding us together, and my hard-on had escaped my briefs and was trapped between my abs and his chest. His own soft package rubbed back and forth across my face as he struggled in vain to push away.

I felt a weird mean-streak taking over and his aversion to me just fueled my lust.

“Charlie, no!” his plea was muffled by my balls which I shoved into his face each time I pumped my pre-cum slick dick, big as a forearm and fist now, between his thick, smooth pecs.

Spurred on by his protests, I grabbed the waistband at the back of his gym shorts and yanked them down over his bulbous asscheeks. The globes felt firm and soft at the same time, like big melons covered in the softest calfskin under my kneading hands. Blind with desire, I clasped his head between my thighs and bucked my balls roughly into his face. My cock actually shot a spray of lube all the way up to and across my own heaving chest, soaking the front of his shorts in the process.

Simultaneously enraged and aroused by his refusal to get turned on, I sank two fingers from each hand knuckle-deep into his asshole. He roared in outrage and his wild thrashing set me off like never before. Tensing against his writhing, slick muscles I came explosively, my body slapping against his wetly for what felt like an eternity. Finally, my ejaculations subsided…

I woke up with a start. It took a moment to remember where I was. The sound of the waves slapping into the shoreline brought me back. Tent. Camp. But what was different? I was breathing hard and I’d come in my underwear. Shit! I could hear Cal breathing heavily, unevenly, close beside me.

Thank god I hadn’t woken him. Something felt different…

The dream had left me shaken. All of my sexual experiences so far had involved going inside the other person and no matter how I felt about the guy, there was an automatic sympathy just from feeling their thoughts, their emotions, from literally getting inside their skin. I’d always wanted them to enjoy it as much as I did. Sure, I took control sometimes but I never…I never… But in the dream, Cal had been nothing but a big oversized sex-toy – I wasn’t inside him feeling what he felt, wasn’t the one who made him grow, and his struggling just got me hotter. And my cruelty felt dangerously out of my control. Was this what it felt like to be entered, to be controlled? Maybe, if the intruder was some kind of madman…

I wondered if this was what my Dad had been trying to protect me from.

My heartbeat slowly returned to normal and my eyes drifted shut.

“Stupid dream”, I thought. It already seemed remote, less important. I *liked* Cal and would probably have a total crush on him by the end of week. Hell, I already did! Shit, another crush on a straight guy….

The waves slapped against the shore. Was something different? The wind was still moaning somewhere out across the prairie. I felt myself dipping in and out of sleep. My last conscious thought was “That’s what’s different – the crickets have stopped chirping…” •


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