Camp: Gay Romance

Camp: Gay Romance © 2016 by G.R. Richards

All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

Cover design © 2016 G.R. Richards

Originally published by Amber Quill Press.

Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

Camp

Gay Romance

By G.R. Richards

Chapter 1

Kawa, would you please just…

"I am not touching that thing!"

But I can’t keep it up my own, Steven pleaded. Come on, just this once.

Tossing his scarf over his shoulder, Kawa leaned against the car door like a petulant child. "I am not touching your tool, Steven. Don’t even think of asking again. I won’t do it."

Steven rolled his eyes. Christ, it’s just a mallet. And, look, it’s all coated in rubber. You’re not going to hurt yourself. Just give the peg a little tap while I hold up the tent.

The instructions made it look so easy: all the little flaps hooked around the little pegs, the rods strung up through the tent, the pegs drove into the ground.

Steven glanced from the picture of the tent to the one standing before them. Why doesn’t ours look like the one on the box?

It’s telling us we belong at the spa, Kawa said. He sat in the back seat of the car with his feet hanging out the door. He’d insisted on wearing pink rhinestone flip flops. The bling only drew attention to the dark leg hair between his ankles and the hem of his capris, but there was no dissuading Kawa. He did as he pleased.

No, Steven said. I’m not giving up on this tent. I used to camp with my family every summer when I was a kid.

Slipping from the car, Kawa picked up the nearest rod and stuck it inside a little pouch at the base of the tent. He folded his scarf over his head like a clumsy hijab. If you’re such an experienced camper, why didn’t you know to do that?

Steven rolled his eyes—so simple even Kawa could see it! Why couldn’t he?

Everything fell into place.

The tent remained upright and the pegs stayed put when Steven hammered them into the ground.

Can we go to the beach now? Kawa whined. This campsite smells like…nature…

But the sight of his young companion leaning against the car with one flip flop perched against the back tire got Steven’s juices pumping. He didn’t normally chase twinks, but Kawa had proven a welcome respite from the intellectuals he’d dated throughout college, and the business-minded guys he’d been with throughout his career. Sure, Kawa wasn’t the type he could bring to a dinner party, and he was a bit campier than Steven had patience for at times, but he was fun. Plain and simple. Fun.

You really want to go to the beach? Steven growled. Or would you rather check out the inside of this tent? Hmm?

Closing in on Kawa, Steven stole the scarf from his head and quickly wrapped it around his thin brown neck. His black hair shimmered in the mottled sunlight filtering down through the treetops. Kawa’s skin was perpetually flawless, light honey brown, but that he owed to some line of products he washed with unrelentingly, and to a dab or two of liquid concealer over erupting zits. His eyes were black oil spots in pools of gold. They reminded Steven of snakes or lizards, though, at the moment, they dabbled in mock fear.

You wouldn’t harm a poor country girl? Kawa sang in a southern-accented falsetto.

It was starting to get to Steven that Kawa so often referred to himself in the feminine, but a fondness for all things girly and camp was an inexorable part of Kawa’s queerness, or so Steven had observed. Nothing much he could do about it but steal Kawa into the tent and tear off his glam T-shirt and Capri pants. It was no surprise to find him without underwear. He almost never wore any.

No panties, young lady? Steven said, playing Kawa’s game. Maybe you were expecting some handsome farmhand to mosey on down your path today.

No sir, Kawa protested in his overblown southern accent. I was just about to wander to the stream and watch the baby ducklings learn to swim.

Steven flipped Kawa onto his stomach on the tent’s clean blue tarpaulin base, then spread the boy’s legs. They were thin as pins. Steven feared he’d snap them when he leaned his denim knees on top of those skinny thighs.

When he’d pulled off his T-shirt, Steven leaned down until his bare chest met Kawa’s naked back. How’s about I teach you something new?

Steven had played games for years. He could keep up with this or any role.

Pressing his mouth to Kawa’s ear, he whispered, You ever been fucked before?

Why no, I never have, Kawa said, leaning his head to the side. He was incredibly convincing. His voice was tinged with fear and curiosity. I’ve heard it hurts something fierce.

No, no, Steven cooed. Now he was the charmer, seducing his prey. You just relax and it won’t hurt one little bit.

Steven rose from Kawa’s back to take off his jeans. There wasn’t quite enough room to stand in the tent, so he rolled on to his back and wriggled out of his pants and his black jockey boxers. Kawa turned to watch. His half-hard cock drooled precum onto his smooth thigh, and Steven got distracted by the sight.

Naked, Kawa was an objet d’art. He was young and slender, like the ancient sculptures of Greek athletes.

In his everyday voice, Kawa said, Condoms and lube are in my shoulder bag.

Where’s that?

Kawa nodded to the tent flap. Passenger seat, on the floor.

Steven started to say, You couldn’t have told me this before I took off my pants? but he didn’t want to spoil the mood. Their site was pretty private, surrounded entirely by pines and leafy green trees. The only site with a good view of theirs was the one across the way, and nobody had claimed it yet.

In his put-on southern accent, Steven said, You stay put, now, you hear?

After unzipping the tent flap, tiptoeing across the sandy dirt, and opening the car door, he looked up.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when two sets of eyes looked back.

There’d been no campers in the site across the way when he’d pulled Kawa into the tent, but damn sure there were people there now. Two men: one young, if young meant Steven’s age. He ran a hand through his dirty blond hair while the pink lips of a cherub drew into a surprised smile.

His silver-haired companion was dressed in old-school jeans and a purple and green plaid top, which looked far too fleecy for the weather. Though the second man was older and thin with a rather gaunt face, his features were attractive in a classic sort of way.

Together, the pair struggled to ease their ancient fold-away trailer from its hitch.

And Steven stood naked behind a car door.

Uh…hi, he said,