Description: I found young Scout Zack sitting with Scoutmaster Saint in the boy’s tent. Yet again, the young man was the last to pitch his tent, and yet again, he needed assistance from another Scoutmaster. It’s difficult not to feel disappointed when a Scoutboy turns out to be that helpless--particularly one whom you’ve championed, and, as it happens, one you’ve also got a bit of history with… I’ll confess; it was a little difficult to watch him sitting there with Scoutmaster Saint who, if I’m honest, comes across as a bit of a sleaze ball. He’s a player and I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him. So, I informed them that the rest of the guys were heading down to the waterfront. I’m not sure I expected them to immediately leap to their feet, but they gave no indication that they had the intention of even coming, which I found quite irritating. But there wasn’t much else I could have said. I’m not gonna undermine a fellow Scoutmaster by telling him to move his lazy ass pronto, so I told them to follow us down there as soon as they could and sauntered away like a schmuck. Of course, the further I walked from the tent, the more angry I got. I guess I felt like Scout Zack and I had had a thing going, you know, and yeah, it was a one-off and all that, but I just didn’t like the idea of Scoutmaster Saint getting his claws into the boy. Before I’d got my thoughts in any sort of order, I found myself creeping silently through the forest and back toward the tent. Predictably, they were both still sitting there, making no attempt whatsoever to get their shit together. I almost marched right over there to tell them to get a move on, but found myself hiding behind a tree instead and just watching. It didn’t take long for Scoutmaster Saint to show his true colors. Saint by name, devil by nature. In fairness, it was pretty humid that day, but he did not need to undo his shirt! I mean, come on! Sure, we all know that Saint works out obsessively. We’ve all heard the story about him being talent spotted by some modeling agency in a gym. We’ve all marveled over his perfect pecs. We’ve seen the guns. He’s a fine figure of a man. But that was just crude. And totally inappropriate. And yes I know that I’m a fine one to talk. Of course Scout Zack couldn't take his eyes off of Scoutmaster Saint. And I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of disappointment. He’s a good kid. I didn’t want to see some douche seducing him. I contemplated leaving. Then I wondered about interrupting their cozy little thing and marching the pair of them to the lake. But I instinctively knew that Scoutmaster Saint would just double down and find another opportunity to do what he was plainly gonna do. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. So, Scoutmaster Saint takes his shirt off, out comes the tanned six-pack, and the boy’s just staring, biting his lip, drawn into the whole tragic thing like a moth to a flame. The Scoutboy was asked to take his shirt off, too, and seconds later, he’s doing exactly what he’s been ordered to do, his heart no doubt beating like a train in his pint-sized chest. They just stared at one another for what felt like an eternity, Scoutmaster Saint edging closer and closer to his prey until, like a lion, he went in for the kill. I have never seen kissing like that. He went in all tender and emotional, slowly wrapping his giant hands around the Scoutboy’s trembling body. I’ve gotta hand it to them. They put on quite the show. I was still angry as all hell, but couldn’t avoid acknowledging that they’d got me as hard as iron. There was something so slick about the way that Scoutmaster Saint was reeling the boy in. Instead of wishing it were me there, I actually found myself wondering just how good my fellow Scoutmaster’s soft lips would feel pressed against my own. Instead of wanting to bring the whole thing to a close, I realized I was actually willing him to push things further. I had front row tickets to the hottest show in town and I wanted my money’s worth. Scout Zack soon had his hand pressed against the giant bulge in his Scoutmaster’s pants, no doubt giving the daddy just what he wanted, because the kissing instantly got a whole lot more passionate. His lips were suddenly all over the boy’s face. I have never seen anything like it. Tongues everywhere. They couldn’t get enough of each other. Scoutmaster Saint inevitably controlled every last second of the encounter, pushing the Scoutboy’s head down to his chiseled chest and encouraging him to work the nipples over while the young body heaved with innocent lust. Scout Zack was soon unzipping Scoutmaster Saint’s pants and pulling the immense dick out of the fly. And lemme tell ya, my fellow leader has the mother of all cocks. It’s thick and meaty and it looked awesome inside the Scoutboy’s mouth. And, of course the Scoutmaster was grinning smugly to himself. I know from experience that young gives great head and watching the encounter brought back a whole load of insanely pleasurable memories. The Scoutboy was soon naked and on all fours with Scoutmaster Saint lapping at the youngster’s hole with his enormous tongue like a cat drinking cream. I could hear Scout Zack whimpering. His beautiful body was writhing in anticipation. He wanted that big dick and he wanted it as soon as he could get it. My fellow Scoutmaster was inside in what seemed like a heartbeat. It was causing Scout Zack a fair degree of discomfort, but he persisted bravely until the Scoutmaster was balls-deep inside him. And it was a wonderful sight. He took the boy raw, just like I had. Of course, I immediately began to fantasize about the idea of watching this son-of-a-gun Scoutmaster fucking an ass which was full of my cum. I imagined him sinking his perfect dick into the boy, and feeling my semen coating every inch of his shaft and providing the most incredible and sexy lubricant. The sweat was soon dripping uncontrollably from both of them, particularly the youngster, whose hands gripped onto the shiny fabric of the sleeping bag beneath him as his body was routinely split apart. I reached down and pulled my rigid dick out of my uniform pants and started to jerk myself frantically, desperately fantasizing about each of them in turn. Scout Zack was gasping and shuddering and The Scoutmaster had a look of determination plastered across his seedy, sexy face, the muscles on his body rippling in the rhythm of his brutal thrusts. The sky started spattering with rain, but I wasn’t going anywhere. Scoutmaster Saint suddenly let out a roar, like some kind of wild animal and then, just like that, he exploded deep into the tight little ass, filling Scout Zack with an obscene amount of semen, which I immediately then wanted to fuck into the boy. The thought drove me wild and I could feel the semen rising in my own dick. I came, and came hard, all over the trunk of the tree I was hiding behind. I’ve plainly got some unfinished business to deal with…