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Answering the Ad
|The ad was so plain that I almost missed it. There, in the Sunday paper in a small classified space:
Camp Assistant Cook Wanted. Must be 16+ and willing to live in campground environment for two four-week sessions. Special diets prepared for overweight boys. Long hours but excellent pay and benefits. Call 555-6966 for appointment.
"OK," I thought, "It could get me out of the house for the summer." Believe me, at seventeen, getting away from my parents was at the top of my list. I had another year to go in high school, and I was already planning to go to college on the other side of the country. It's not that I didn't like my parents. I did. But, they were very over-protective of me since I was a little, skinny kid with asthma. As I grew up, the asthma got better and the inhaler and other medications kept me breathing well. But could I get them to let me go to a campground and work for a summer?
Well� I was a terrible liar. My initial idea to think of some other story had too many flaws� so I decided to approach them with honesty�. AFTER I got the job!
I called the number in the ad and a deep voice on the other side answered, "Camp Jupiter."
"Hi, my name is Michael Davis and I'm calling about your ad in the Sunday Tribune. The one for the assistant cook?"
"Yes. Have you got any experience?" The deep voice was almost hypnotic, even over the phone!
"Well," I continued, "I took a course in domestics in school this year. It turns out I'm pretty good at it. I got an A."
"Really?" Oh that VOICE! "Well, we'll be interviewing on Friday at the Twin Pines Hotel on Friday. Can you be there at 9AM?"
"Nine AM. Yes, I can be there."
"Great! We'll see you then. My name is Don and I'm the chef. "
He sure didn't SOUND like a chef!
"Great, Don. My friends call me Mickey." I was hoping I could ingratiate myself.
"OK, Mickey. Nine AM at the Twin Pines. Just look for the big guys - that will be the group from Camp Jupiter. Do you have any questions for me before the interview?"
"Well, I don't want to sound rude, but isn't this a fat camp? You know, where there are lots of overweight kids? I have a friend who should really spend some time with you if you are, his family just doesn't have much money to pay for it."
There was a deep laugh on the other end of the line. "Yes, some people call us a fat camp, but we don't specialize in getting boys to just lose weight. We help them re-shape their bodies and develop new habits to keep them healthy their entire lives. We could even help you if you work with us."
"Thanks, Don, but I'm not overweight. I pretty thin, actually so I probably couldn't be helped much."
"Hey, Mickey," he said sharply, "don't you want to be better than you are? I can sense a breathing problem, maybe asthma, when you talk. We can help you, too!"
Damn. The asthma came through on the phone. I guess I started to get excited at the thought of working at the camp and my wheeze must have sounded during the conversation.
"Yes, I do have asthma, and I'm afraid that my parents may have a problem with me working in the woods for two months."
"Don't worry, Mickey. If you get the job, we can talk with your parents and there won't be a problem. We have a camp doctor and we are only 5 minutes from a hospital, if necessary. And we provide scholarships for qualified boys, so your friend might be able to spend a month with us as well."
My heart raced as he spoke. Oh, MAN! THEY could convince my parents! My hardest job would be over!
"OK," I said, "I guess I'll see you on Friday then. Thanks, Don!"
"No problem, Mickey." I could almost hear him smile. "See you Friday."
I sighed a raspy sigh. I grabbed the steroid inhaler and took a puff. My heart was racing. The chance to get out of town and spend two months at a camp had me excited.
Maybe a little TOO excited. I had an erection now that wouldn't go down. At seventeen, that happened a lot. Well, I know what would take care of that.
I lay down on my bed and pulled my pants down, pulling out my cock and began stroking my 5-inch erection. I started to think of one of the girls from school, but suddenly I tried to picture the face on the other side of the phone conversation. I imagined a big, muscular man who smiled at me, nothing more than smiled. A big, handsome grin and perfectly sculptured features and OH MY GOD IM CUMMING.
The cum shot over my chest, and I rubbed my fingers in it. Oh�. It felt so good� I touched my fingers to my tongue and I tasted my own cum for the first time.
I suddenly realized what I had done. I sat up and ran to the bathroom, shaking. I cleaned the cum off me, but I also realized something else.
I liked the taste, and I wanted to taste more.
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