Going to the deer camp has been a Texas tradition for many years. As a boy, when I was way too young to hunt, I would anxiously sit and wait at the cabin for my Father, Grandfather, and Uncles to return home after their hunt. Then we would all sit around the camp stove eating a big bowl of chili and talk about anything that came to mind.
I would sit and listen to stories about old loves, high school football, and they day they nearly got killed on some far off battlefield.
This was guy stuff at its best. I would try to tell my own stories, but my stories just couldn't hold a candle to the day my grandfather jumped into a foxhole and found that a Japanese solder was already in it.
My grandfather would nudge me with his elbow and say "You don't know what scared is, till you've done something like that."
I'm eighteen years old now, and I still love going to deer camp. The stories haven't changed much but now I can tell my own.
We talk all night long about football; I'm a linebacker, just like my dad was twenty five years ago, and whether we can beat our old rivals.
When the topic turns to the women they've loved my grandfather always asks me, "are you still dating that pretty cheerleader?"
I would grin and turn red. I didn't need to answer.
Not that I could if I wanted to, my uncles were already messing with me about it.
A little annoyed by their ribbing I excuse myself and go outside.
I hear one of my uncle's say as I walking out the door; "I bet he's going to call her right now, under a woman's control already, such a shame."
Their kidding wouldn't have been so bad if it weren't true. I was going outside to call her. She told me to call her ever night. She told me that she would wait up for me, and that she would make the phone call well worth it.
The only way that I can get cell service at the deer camp is if I stand out in front of the cabin on an old telephone wire spool that we use as a table.
I dial her number and she answers the phone. "I've been waiting on you," she whispers.
I start to tell her that we were eating dinner but she shushes me.
Let me do the talking, she says in a sexy voice that starts the butterflies to flying in the pit of my stomach. I've been thinking about you all evening she says.
"I put on those jeans that you like so much and I'm wearing that shirt that shows off my belly. You know the one's I'm talking about don't you."
I sure did. Those jeans were my favorite. They hugged her butt just right and they were so low cut that when she put her hands in her pockets I could see her panties peeking out of the top.
Are you wearing the pink shirt, the one I can see your nipples through?
Yes she sighs in her sexiest voice.
"My nipples are extra hard tonight" she says. "I've been rubbing my breast and thinking of you. My nipples have been sensitive all day. If you were here I might even let you kiss them just to make them feel better."
Oh my, I love it when she talks to me like that. My legs are becoming weak and my breathing is deeper and rapid.
"I have ran my hands all over my body just like you do but it doesn't feel the same," she say's.
"Can you guess where my hands are right now she asks?"
I can think of a few places were I'd like my hands to be I say.
She giggles; "I bet we're thinking of the same place." "My hand is slowing making its way into your favorite jeans."
I hear her moaning, my fingers have found that special place she says, I hear her moan louder.
"Oh I wish you were doing this," she says as I hear her breathing become shallow and rapid.
I hear her phone slip from her hand and fall onto the floor. I can barely hear her now but her moaning tells me what is going on.
I can imagine her fingers furiously rubbing her clit and then I hear that unmistakable Ohhhhhhh.
I nearly fall off the spool as I listened to her climax. I dropped the phone and lost her. I tried to call her back but voice mail is all I got.
I can see her in my mind lying in bed trying to catch her breath exhausted after her orgasm, her phone lying on the floor right were she dropped it.
Man I wish I could have been there I say to myself.
"You and your girlfriend play much baseball?" A voice behind me asks? I turn around to see my grandpa sitting on the porch behind me.
No I say, I don't play baseball grandpa, you know that. "I didn't play baseball either he says but that didn't keep me from rounding the bases with a few of my high school girlfriends."
I realized that my grandpa heard that whole conversation between my girlfriend and me. Embarrassed I try to explain but he stops me.
"Your grandmother and I had our share of ball games." Horrified by the idea of where this conversation was going I tried to stop my grandpa but it didn't work.
Grandpa looked at me with a stern eye and factually stated "Your dad wasn't a miracle you know."
He reminded me that sex leds to babies and the fact that I have 8 aunt's and uncle's means he and grandma had a lot of sex.
My grandfather had that "I'm going to tell you a story" look in his eye. I'd seen it before and I know it meant that I better get comfortable because I was going to get a story whether I liked it or not.
My grandfather started by saying "I meet your grandmother in 1941." She was a cheerleader in the same high school that I'm going to now. The same one my father and all my aunts and uncles went to as well.
He pulled an old billfold out of his jacket and showed me a picture. It was grandma in her cheerleading uniform hugging my grandfather after a football game. "That was right after homecoming our senior year" he said.
"Your grandmother was the prettiest girl in town back then and I was lucky to have her."
I must admit she was pretty hot. Her auburn hair was pulled up into a pony tail and her big eyes held me captive as I looked at the old black and white photograph.
Her uniform was much more modest then the one my girlfriend wears but it still showed plenty of ivory white skin. She had a beautiful figure with perfect curves and breasts that made me have unnatural thoughts about my grandmother.
