The Camp Out PT 10

Camping Out PT 10

Sunday morning had finally arrived, and the rain had stopped. I woke to an intense itching—muther fucker !

I exit my tent, with just a pair of sweats on, and scan the camp. There that fucker is ! Walking up to Alex, seated at a table with a few others, I grab him by his hair, and pull him up. With a surprise look on his face, I pull back my right arm, and slam him in the mouth, busting it wide open. The b l o o d flew into the air as he spun around, and I go for the second pop, this time catching him on the side of his face.

The others at the table jump up, and grabbing me by the arms, I just exclaim, “DON’T”

I let go of Alex hair, and with my big ass size 12 jock foot, deliver a kick to his guts, sending him to the ground. Working up a big mouthfull of spit and snot, I deliver it right to his face. Two of the others are still trying to grab me by the arms, but flinching them off I just yell “I said back off me dawgs”

Walking up to, and straddled over Alex, still laying on his back, I pull out my swelling meat, and proceed to cut loose the stinkin stream of my morning jock piss, saturating him in front of the others. “Next time dawg—you beg some dude to lay a fuckin on ur ass—have the courtesy to tell him you got bugs”! The others just stood around, staring, and couple of them grinning. Glaring at one of them, I bark out “You think it’s cute, dawg”? He just yanks his head back and forth, not saying anything.

I turn away, and hopping on the Banshee, fire up and head up to the general store, for a box of RID, fishtailing as I left the camp site. Getting a smirk from the clerk, I wanted to punch him as well, but left and returned to the camp. Seeing lil bro, I bark out at him, “Dustin—bug out ! ( no pun intended, lol) Tear this place down, and pack up”! Dustin jumps to his feet, and replies “Yes sir, Matthew” and begins barking out orders.

“Where is he”? I ask one of the guys standing nearby. Nervously pointing to the supply tent, I mutter under my breath “get to work”, and head for the tent. Upon entering, I see Alex sitting on a cooler, holding an ice pack to his face, and two others standing nearby, ‘attending’ to him. “He’ll be fine—get the fuck to work” I bark at them. “ur with me punk”. Alex nervously stands, and I exit the tent, motioning for him to follow.

We both hop on the banshee, and a short skip to my tent, where I enter and fish out the clippers from my gear bag. Don’t really know why I packed them, you just never know—maybe someone would decide on a mowhawk or a buzz cut.

Hopping back on the quad, we proceed to the bath house. Stripping out of my sweats, I plug the clippers into the outlet at the sink area, and hand them to Alex. “Shave me” was all I said. Raising my arms up, indicating to start with the pits. I almost shed a tear, as Alex began gently shaving my thick bush—something I had never done. My pits had been growing for a long time–hell, I think I had pit hair before any even showed on my balls !