Best Laid Plans: A Summer Camp Swingers Novel

“But I’m not surprised that you are the way you are,” she admitted. “I love giving head, so I guess it makes sense that you like getting it. I mean, you don’t think it’s a coincidence that my two best friends are expert cocksuckers.”

“Fellatrices,” I corrected.

“No, cocksuckers. A fellatrix is prim and proper. I suck cock.” Her eyes flashed and she grinned. “I love it too. I think about it all the time. Why do you think we became nudists in the first place?”

That stopped me in my tracks. “Uh… I guess I always thought it was ’cause of Susan. Or Dad, ’cause he wanted to look at the women.”

“That’s part of it,” Mom admitted, “but it wouldn’t’ve happened if I hadn’t said yes. And do you know why I did?”

“No, but I can probably guess.”

“So I could check out the guys. And speaking of which, that reminds me. How hard do you think it was for me, seeing all those dicks and not being able to ‘touch ’em’?” She reconsidered. “Okay, I’ve actually touched a lot of ’em, but that’s beside the point.”

“Hold on. What do you mean, you’ve touched a lot of ’em?”

“Who do you think recruits new swingers in camp?”

I blinked and stared.

“Someone has to. Usually I sound out the women, but I give a lot of discreet blowjobs too.”

“For real?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“But not until they’re swingers, right?”

“No, to regular guys.”

“Like who?”

“I don’t suck and tell.”

I looked at her in disbelief. I normally wasn’t a nosy type, but I felt a sudden need to know who she’d blown. I named a couple of men from camp who weren’t swingers.

She shook her head at each.

“Hold on,” I said. “Are you saying, ‘no, I didn’t blow him’ or ‘no, I’m not going to tell’?”

“The former.”

“Aha! So if I eventually name all the guys I can think of, I’ll know who you’ve sucked off and who you haven’t.”

“Correct.”

“So why not tell me?”

“Okay,” she said at last, “if it’s that important.” She tried to sound browbeaten, but her eyes danced with enjoyment. “John Eriksson.”

“Manfred’s dad?”

“Yep. They were thinking about becoming swingers, but Ingrid wasn’t sure she could handle it. So I gave him a blowjob while she watched. She let me finish, for his sake, but it didn’t work out.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Not everyone was cut out to be a swinger. “Who else?”

“Bob Nelson.”

“The jewelry guy?”

“Mmm hmm, although those are more of a friendly thing, not swinger recruiting.”

“‘Those,’” I repeated. “Plural?”

“Yes, plural. He’s a nice man. He needs some stress relief.”

I chuckled. “Okay, how about Adam Payton?”

“Not him, believe it or not. I tried, but…” She shrugged. “The guys really wanted to recruit Melissa for the group—”

Melissa Payton was Kendall’s mother, tall and busty and built like a wet dream.

“—but they weren’t interested.”

“Okay, who else?”

She named a few other men, but none that sparked my interest. “Most guys don’t think of a blowjob as cheating,” she explained. “Some do, though, and some like it. The cheating, that is. We screen out those guys pretty quickly.”

“Like who?”

“John Jordan.” She made a moue of distaste. “He heard about the swinging and approached us. He came to a party, but made some lame excuse about his wife having a headache. I don’t think he even told her what he was doing. He just wanted to screw around and had no intention of letting her join us. He was one of ‘those’ types,” she finished caustically, “a real double-standard asshole.”

“No kidding,” I said.

“Let’s change the subject to something more pleasant.”

“Such as?”

“Cocks?” Her lips quirked with a grin. “And why a nudist camp is the best meat market in the world.”

“Pun intended, I’m sure.”

“Of course.”

I rolled my eyes but had to admire her wit.

“But first,” she said, “let’s go back to your ‘problems growing up in a nudist family’ comment.”

“I was just kidding,” I said. “It really wasn’t that bad. Well, the part about having to look but not touch was, but we fixed that.” I tweaked one of her nipples just because I could.

“Mmm, nice. But that’s not the problem I mean.”

“Oh?”

“You said you fantasized about my tits since you were twelve? Well, you weren’t the only one.”

“What? Did someone…? Who…? Wait, how—?”

“I mean… you weren’t the only one with fantasies.”

“Of course not. But—?” Realization hit me like sucker punch. I felt my mouth go dry. “You?”

“Why not? I’ve always known you were going to be well-hung.” She nodded at my surprise. “Well, since you hit puberty. Most boys are the same before then. But your penis started to grow when your hormones kicked in. It was several inches long before you even sprouted pubic hair.”

I gulped. “You paid attention to that sort of thing?”

“Of course. Didn’t you pay attention when Erin started growing breasts?”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“I used to check on you at night, after you fell asleep. Well, I always did that. Every mother does. But I took a special interest when we started going to camp, because you slept nude and usually with only a sheet. My favorite nights were when you had an erection.”

My jaw dropped.

“It happens to most guys.”

“I know,” I said. “But you looked?”