The Campsite | SCOUT SERG | Chapter 2

It’s rare for me to find myself drawn towards one of the Scouts. I’d be lying if I said it’s never happened, but crossing that particular line can be a long, slippery slope which rarely ends well. Once in a blue moon, however, a boy turns up who’s so exquisite that the only option is to throw caution to the wind…

Serg, a European member of our Troop for six months now, has been an intriguing figure since his arrival. Despite his excellent command of the English language, he remained reserved and observant. His demeanor makes him an exceptional Scout—wise beyond his years, impeccably-groomed and well-behaved without any hint of arrogance or noise. You never had to say anything to him twice.

He was a little timid to begin with, but it had been a pleasure to watch him grow in confidence, and also to see the positive physical changes which more time in the open air and a great deal more exercise had brought about.

He’d become difficult to ignore: blonde with exquisite, smooth skin. Under normal circumstances, I’d have kept my hands firmly to myself, no matter how much I wanted to screw his brains out. But the “perfect storm” was triggered by the boy’s obvious desire for me. It had become impossible for the two of us to share a space without Serg looking at me with an unrestrained, lustful look in his eyes. It was a look which, on one hand, suggested a certain degree of naïveté, but on the other, made me almost certain that he’d been with an older man before…

It had been difficult for me to get the boy on his own and whenever my attempts to do so were thwarted, I would dutifully step back and assume the universe was trying to deter me. However, his mesmerizing gaze would always bring me back, trapping me once more like a moth lured by perilous flames.

And then, one day, an opportunity presented itself to me that I couldn’t ignore. Serg was due to arrive late to the campsite at the start of a weekend away and I was instructed by Scoutmaster Hernandez to wait for him while the others hiked to the lake to build rafts. When Serg finally arrived, I instructed him to pitch his tent, which he did with an impressive degree of precision and ease. Once the tent was up, I removed my shoes and climbed inside to inspect it…

There’s something about the smell of a tent which drives me wild. It’s that heady combination of rubber and canvas, coupled with a musty, slightly damp aroma which tells a story of midnight feasts, sweaty socks and sneaky jerk-off sessions inside sleeping bags. Put me in a tent and I’m immediately transported to my teenage years, and, more often than not, sporting a hard-on before I even realize I’m turned on!

I sat next to Serg on the groundsheet, which he’d sensibly covered with a checkered woolen rug. Before the rational side of my brain was able to crank into action, I found myself casually running my hand over his thigh. I think, in my mind, I’d managed to justify this overt and crude gesture as one of avuncular friendship, but there was no way that Serg could have interpreted it as anything other than an unsubtle prelude to sex. What’s more, he seemed to take it entirely in his stride, barely flinching and still staring at me with a look which seemed to say “ravage me now.”

And then, just like that, I was fulfilling the fucked-up fantasy which had tantalized my mind for months. My greedy hands caressed every inch of his beautiful body, savoring the sensual softness of his smooth, trembling flesh. His dick was rock hard, and mine was fighting to escape from my pants.

He pressed his gentle lips against me; I had longed to kiss that boy. I’d imagined, in minuscule detail, how he would feel and taste, but nothing could have prepared me for the breathtaking reality. He grasped my dick and toyed with it through my pants. Jets of pre-cum started flying from its tip.

I held him in my arms and thrust my hand down the back of his shorts. He needed to know that I intended to take him. It would be almost impossible to imagine this encounter ending any other way. He carefully unbuckled my belt and pulled my huge manhood from the cruel prison of my underwear. He started to run his tongue over it, and within seconds was sucking me with great fervor. The experience sent shivers of pure excitement up and down my body. I have seldom felt such intense desire for another person.

As he sucked my dick, I pushed his shorts down and thrust a finger into his hole. He recoiled in shock, but a few words of encouragement made him relax. I turned him around and pushed my tongue into his hole until he was moaning with almost desperate anticipation. His ass was one of the most amazing things I think I’ve ever seen: It was tight and puckered, and I knew he’d be a joy to fuck.

I knelt behind him and pushed my raw dick very slowly into him. He gasped, astounded by the sensation. It took a few strokes to get him used to my size, but within a minute or so, I was able to pound him with some degree of force. I found myself entering an ecstatic trance. Our bodies melded into each other, and we became one intense, sexual being.

I turned him onto his back. I needed to look into his eyes as I made love to him. I needed that sense of pure connection. The look on his face—a mixture of desire, trust, and fear—sent me spinning. I felt, on one hand, a need to protect him with every bone of my body, but, on the other, an overwhelming desire to destroy him with my dick. I got him onto all fours and fucked him harder and harder until the semen squirted from me in a laser-like torrent of pure filth.

It took a while to get my breath back. The intensity of the moment had entirely blown my mind. It’s hard to express how I felt as I kissed the back of his head, knowing that this was just the start of a journey for us...