My wife, Erin, and I have volunteered to chaperone at the Boy Scout Camp for the past few summers as our sons, Hank, 10 and Henry, 12, have been active in scouts. This summer's camp, the last week in July, was touch and go as the pandemic had made folks cautious about any activities. Fortunately, our week went well but on Friday, officials found out that a troop leader who had been there the prior week had subsequently tested positive so the decision was made to shut down the camp for the balance of the summer.
The scouts headed home early Saturday and Erin and I sent our sons to town with some friends as we had volunteered to stay and button things up for the season. We spent several hours with a few other parents and installed window shutter, pulled in the raft and dock, stored the canoes and kayaks for the winter. Packed up the pantry and refrigerated supplies for shipment to a food bank, drained some waterlines and turned off power in many of the cabins.
We reached the point where I had about an hours' worth of work left to finish before we could leave and everyone else had headed out with the exception of Tony who had a few items on his checklist before heading out. Erin and I would be the last to leave, turning off the power and locking the main gates on the way out.
Erin said she wanted to take a final walk on the nature trail while I finished my work. She headed to our room to change, pack and take her hike while I finished my tasks.
About 45 minutes later Tony came back to the lodge and told me he had just shut down the staff cabin and had put a couple of boxes of food that had been overlooked in the back of my truck and that I should use them or give them away as they can't be left around to attract critters. Then he said. "And your wife asked if you could come to the ropes course to rescue her as she got her ponytail tangled in a turnbuckle and needed you to free her. Take your toolbox and the ladder." He then added, "It's a good thing she didn't wear those yoga pants and Lycra tank top when the scouts were here as it would have been cruel to all those young boys." Tony grinned ear-to-ear, told me where the ladder and toolbox were and said, "Hope you like pancakes and syrup." as he headed home.
I quickly grabbed the tools and headed to my truck for the half mile drive to the ropes course. As I pulled up I couldn't help but notice Erin. She was on the cargo net part of the ropes course, a few feet off the ground with her hands and feet on the ropes and her ponytail sticking up above her head, evidently tangled in the ropes and turnbuckles holding up the net. Erin was hard not to notice, she was wearing a white pair of yoga pants and white Lycra tank top with her trim midriff showing. I had been teasing Erin lately about being a perfect 36. Thirty-six years old, 36-inch bust, 36-inch hips and a 36-inch ponytail that she was very proud of. No wonder Tony had commented. The pants and top hugged her curves. The low-cut square neckline nicely displayed her cleavage and the valley between her breasts.
She yelled, "Help me." As I approached. "I've been stuck here for 30 minutes. I thought I could get myself untangled but I need your help."
I was chuckling as I looked at her. She looked rather delicious in an outfit that certainly would have drawn attention had scouts still been there. She was breathing heavily; no doubt having worn herself out some struggling to get free. The sun was bright and it was getting hot, above 90Β°. The sheen of perspiration covered her face and arms and midriff. Erin had been staying in the girls' cabin the past week (yes there are now girl Boy Scouts) and I had been staying in one of the boys' cabins. Erin's attractive helpless look had her horny husband contemplating next steps.
I couldn't help but point out the very obvious sign that said "absolutely no unsupervised use of the ropes course". Her wearing a push-up bra in a tight, cleavage-displaying top for a workout was indeed cruel. I didn't resist leaning over and kissing her rib cage as it was at the level of my head as she clung to the ropes. A second kiss and tickle earned me a swat as she risked releasing one arm to push me away before re-grabbing the ropes to release the pressure on her ponytail. It wasn't actually a ponytail but rather something of a French braid. Three thick bundles of hair braided together into a long single ponytail like appendage. I could see that about a foot over her head the braid was stuck in a carabiner type hook and attached to a turnbuckle that held the rope cargo net on the wood frame. It was obvious that Erin had been attempting to free herself as the braid was pulled apart with a fair amount of loose hair and broken strands.