The Boss(hole) by Penelope Bloom
Camper Carl
Ikicked my feet up by the roaring campfire we’d set up. I’d never camped in New York, but if this was the way the Yanks did it, then they could count me in next year, too. Everybody at the campsite had gathered around the big fire and all the adults were happily on our way to drunk.
The kids were over by the campsite that was weirdly set up with all brand-new gear. I tipped back my beer, looking toward their stuff. It was the strangest thing. Some guy from the local outdoorsman store came by and brought load after load of brand-new shit. Tents still in the bag, chairs, cooking utensils, and he’d even finished it all off with a few bags of groceries. I’d been expecting some kind of old incapable rich guy type. Instead, this male model guy and his bombshell of a girlfriend had showed up there.
I drained the last of my beer and shook my head. That was fuckin’ New York for ya. Bunch of weirdos and people with way too much genetic good fortune on their side.
“Hey Carl, you going to dance or just sit there all night looking sleepy?”
My wife was drunkenly stumbling around, curling her fingers towards me as she rocked her shoulders back and forth.
I laughed and went to her.
There were two or three dozen of us all having a good time around the campfire. Someone was playing guitar and a few of the women were singing a surprisingly good rendition of James Taylor’s Copperline. I was impressed they knew as many of the words as they did.
I was really getting into things when the kids screamed.
The person on guitar missed a note and the three singing voices cut off abruptly. That was when we saw the model guy and his girlfriend come bursting out of the trees at full speed and fully nude.
Now, I’d be the first to tell you I was a red-blooded, heterosexual man. But I’d be lying if I said a little part of my body didn’t rise up in revolt of that fact when I saw the way that man was built. No man had any right looking that majestic when he was soaking wet, speckled with dirt, and running with his cock out.
“Don’t you look at her,” Wanda said, reaching to cover my eyes.
I only managed a quick glance at the well-crafted buns on the girl and legs that went for days before I noticed the baby bear chasing them. Then the adults screamed. A few fast-thinking guys grabbed flaming sticks and ran over to help, waving them around until the bear backed off and headed toward the tree line. That was when we saw there was a mama bear right there in the trees.
I walked up to the naked people’s tent and cleared my throat. “Uh. You two okay in there?”