It was early summer 1978, and Conor had the day off. He was looking forward to meeting up with his counselor friends in a nearby pub later that night. To kill some time that afternoon, he went to hang out at the staff-only dock located down the lake for counselors to use on their off days, and maybe take a swim.
A dinghy manned by what looked like a bunch of 13 year old’s from the Intermediate Bunk, was sailing out on the lake. No other campers were in view, although all the bunks could be seen staggered up the slope on the far side of the lake.
As Conor walked out on the dock, there was one other person out at the end catching rays. He noticed right away it was Fiona, and goosebumps started running up and down his arms.
Facing out toward the lake, Fiona was wearing a very skimpy bright red string bikini. She was from the posh Chelsea area of West London. Her accent was perfect “RP English,” and not only was she lovely to listen to, but she was a total knockout. Conor approached the end of the dock and looked down at Fiona laying on a chaise lounge.
“Geez Fiona, are you trying to stiffen all the boys in camp? I think those guys out in the sailboat are getting dizzy from all their circling to get a better view,” he said with a wry chuckle.
“Why hello there Conor, what’s good? You know I need to keep a tan; the boys will have to suffer through it. Be a love and hand me the suntan oil, will you?”
“I’m sure binoculars are in full swing throughout every bunk in the camp!” Conor deadpanned as he handed her the oil.
“Have a sit with me for a while,” she said ignoring his jab.
⇔
Just finishing his junior year of high school, Conor needed a summer job. His mom handed him a Camp Lenni Len-A-Pe brochure and said to give it a try. At 17, he hoped they might need help in the kitchen. At most camps he’d still be a camper, yet, Conor displayed a quiet confidence that gave an aura of competence, even though it was mostly just shyness. It’s possible the Camp Director bought into his faux maturity, but more than likely he was desperate. He hired Conor as a counselor overseeing a bunk of 11 ten-year-olds just a week before camp started.
He was by far the youngest counselor; all the rest were college-age and most of them were from England. Maybe it was a British thing but somehow Conor fit right in as part of the gang. He got a glimpse of what it was like to be a full-on adult. He’d go with the off-day crew to the pubs, somehow never carded for being underage, playing darts, drinking pints, arguing politics, and spending time with the women counselors (especially Fiona).
⇔
Conor pulled over the other chaise. Fiona was radiant, and he reminded himself to only look into her eyes, and adjusted his shorts just in case.
After a few minutes of staring out at the water, Fiona turned to Conor and said, “Let me ask you Conor, have you a steady girlfriend?”
“That’s a pretty random question. Why do you ask?”
“Well, here I am practically naked and you’re being quite nonchalant about it all.”
“Fiona, if you must know, I’m trying really hard to think of you only as a big sister, so I’m actually able to speak to you without ejaculating spontaneously in my pants or stumble-mumbling anything I try to say,” he replied.
“Don't bother, you Americans all sound like you’re speaking with a mouth full of marbles! As to your other issue, cold water from the lake may help," she said tongue in cheek.
Keeping his eyes focused above her neck, Conor added, “And to answer your question, although I’ve had my share of adventures, I don’t have a girlfriend right now”
Fiona was tall and lithe with the cutest dimples. She had flowing blonde hair and long, toned legs. Her breasts were large, and firm, and stood up at attention above a slim waist and a bottom that was the perfect size and shape for her amazing body. She'd fit right in on any cover of Vogue or Cosmo.
Besides her looks, what made Fiona special, was she acted like she wasn’t. Spunky, cracking risqué jokes, poking fun, and up for trying anything, Conor had never met anyone like her. He was always taught to treat everyone the same, whether blessed with superior genes or disabilities. He didn't put Fiona on a pedestal and just treated her like everyone else. She loved this about Conor and at 22, took him under her wing.
⇔
"Tell me about the girlfriends you have had?” Fiona asked.
Conor was hoping she would drop it, but he couldn’t think of anything to say that would change the subject.
“Well, to be fair, my adventures have been a bit modest. The longest relationship was with a Norwegian girl I met when I was 7. We were so young those first few summers she didn't bother wearing a bathing suit top. We stayed a couple every summer until we entered puberty when we realized we were better off as friends. Since then, I’ve done quite a bit of making-out, strategic rubbing, and groping of the female anatomy with a handful of girls. None became girlfriends. I guess it won’t matter to tell you; I haven't had sex with anyone as of yet.”
There was a pause as Fiona considered how to respond to Conor's admission.
“Your Norwegian sounds cute, but she doesn’t count. Still, since then, it sounds like you’ve had the opportunity to take things further. Was there something missing?”
Conor paused and looked over at Fiona. Making sure she followed his gaze; he vividly moved his eyes over her body, slowing as he exaggerated his view of the sexually enhanced parts of her anatomy.
“Believe me, Fiona, there's no lack of female interest on my part,” Conor told her with a wolfish grin.
He waited for a few beats in thought, looking deeply into Fiona's eyes.
“I guess I just want to feel something that’s meaningful,” he added with a more serious tone.
Connor looked away and said, “Pretty lame, huh?”
Fiona reached over and placed her hand on his arm to get his attention, and she held Conor’s gaze, looking into his eyes for what seemed like an eternity. There was a glow about her that wasn’t there a few moments earlier.
“If I were five years younger, I wouldn’t let anyone near you! I don’t think you know how beautiful you actually are. Your genuine honesty is downright charming, you’re incredibly fit and you have a dazzling smile.”
Conor’s face turned several shades of red.
“I want you to listen very carefully. I’m going to share something that will give you superpowers with women, all right?" she added.
Fiona got up and sat next to Conor on his chaise lounge and leaned in towards him. Her breasts brushed against his arm just about driving him crazy with desire. He looked into Fiona's eyes and started to lean in toward her, lusting for a kiss, but she placed her hand on his chest. She closed and then slowly opened her eyes.
"It would be so easy to let down my guard and devour you. I'm sure I'd love it, my guess is you wouldn't mind either, but I won't. You see Conor when you look like me, it's hard to make friends. The girls are afraid I'll steal their men, and guys aren't interested in me, just my body. I really like that you treat me differently. I love talking and hanging out with you too much. If we were to take things further, the rest of the summer might be weird and I'd lose a good friend."
Fiona had such a serious look, he started thinking with the head on his shoulders instead of his other one. It became clear that he meant more to her as a friend than a lover. Also, what was he thinking? Just the three words, "Fiona, Conor, and lover" in the same sentence were beyond ridiculous. Besides, he liked the idea of the hottest woman around being a good friend. He flashed her a calming smile so she knew he understood her.
"You were talking about important superpowers?" Conor asked to move things back to the friend zone.
Fiona squeezed his forearm and flashed a knowing smile.
“Yes, it may sound perfectly simple, but if you want a girl to fall for you, the most important thing to remember is to really listen to her. Listening is the key, do you understand?” she asked.
“That does sound maybe a bit too simple,” He replied
“There’s more to it than you think. You need to listen to her whole being. What she says is very real to her and shouldn’t be refuted or denied, especially with eye rolls, sideways glances, or sighing. You may be tempted to share an alternative idea or provide a solution to something she’s sharing, but don’t! Just let her speak and genuinely listen to her.”
“If I wanted to have you fall for me, I wouldn’t question a thing, whether I was supposed to stay mute or not,” Conor said with a smirk.
“Don’t be a wise ass Conor, if you were ten years older, I’d already be yours,” Fiona said winking seductively at him.
She continued, “I’m not saying to stay mute. When you do speak, ask her to clarify or elaborate. Say things like, ‘how intriguing, tell me more,’ or ‘I’m sorry to hear, how does it affect you?’ It'll amaze her that you’re interested to learn more, and you'll stand out in her eyes. Does this make sense?”
He listened thoughtfully. Being the youngest of a family of five children, he spent years listening to his siblings who were bigger, and older, and thought they were wiser. Listening was already engrained in his make-up, but he hadn’t thought about it in terms of the opposite sex.
“It does, I like to listen anyway, but this will help me get girls?” Conor asked.
“I assure you most guys don’t listen at all. I have a lot of experience here. They dictate the conversation, dominate activities, and direct the flow of whatever is to happen. You want to get a great girlfriend, don’t be that guy,” Fiona advised.
Conor nodded his head and thought about guys he knew that acted like that. They usually were the ones that talked a big game but rarely had any dates or girlfriends.
“Alright, Fiona, I won’t. The problem is that to wow a girl by listening, they have to want to talk to me in the first place! I can’t seem to get them to notice me, and I’m terrible at come-on lines.”
Fiona laughed and said, “ Conor, as you may imagine, I’ve heard every line there is, and you know what? They're all ridiculous and a waste of time.”
“How intriguing, tell me more,” Conor dramatically mimicked his newfound advice.
“Hilarious Conor, really funny,” Fiona said with a sarcastic smile and a shake of her head.
She continued, “There are two things I want to learn from a guy who’s interested. Is he confident, and will he be there for me to lean on, so when I crash, there’ll be a soft, secure place to land? Like falling into a bed of feathers.”
“Hmm, kind of the flag pole to your flag,” he added.
“Exactly, you’ve got it.”
“All right, but how would I show that to someone I just met?” Conor asked.
“You just walk up and tell them. Conor, what attracts me is a confident handsome guy who knows what he wants but whose ego doesn’t make him think he deserves it. He’s authentic and tells me straight up that he finds me amazing and doesn’t try some gimmick or act like someone he isn’t. I’ve seen you with our mates, and this is how you are naturally. You already have this superpower,” Fiona said.
“If you say so, but when I see a girl I like, I get tongue-tied and nervous. Usually, it keeps me from even saying hello,” Conor admitted.
“Believe in yourself Conor, you have the inner confidence, rely on it. Not everyone is spontaneous or funny, but you met all of us with a sense of fun, right? It’s not life and death to talk to someone you’re interested in. Go into it with a smile and a devil-may-care attitude. It either will or won’t happen and if it doesn’t, then she’s not someone to worry about.”
“Yeah, that’s easy to say Fiona when you look like this!” he said while waving his arms wide apart from her head to her toes.
She giggled, took a deep breath, and in a serious tone looked Conor directly in the eye and said,
“Let me share something with you. At 17 you have more going for you than all of the guys in our group combined. All you need to do is believe it. You said a few minutes ago that you’re more interested in feeling something than just shagging someone. Any idea how rare that is?"
Conor couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"Listen, you’re insanely fit, with a smile that lights up your whole face. All you need to do is confidently walk up and tell a woman you want to get to know her better, and she’ll start to melt between the legs. I’m serious. I’m getting hot just thinking about it,” she added.
Conor was speechless. The most beautiful woman he’d ever known was telling him he was a catch and she meant it. He gave her a wan smile and they both leaned back into their chaise lounges to soak in the moment.
Bringing things back to earth, Conor looked over at Fiona. With an exaggerated smile asked slyly, “So I'm actually really feeling something here Fiona, it must be shag time?”
He quickly snort-laughed, and they both cracked up.
After a few minutes, Fiona finally said, “Alright enough, next time we'll cover how to make a woman squirm, so you'll be ready for what comes next. I promise I’ll wear a few more bits to cover myself for that, but for now, fancy a swim?” With that, she got up and dove into the lake.
Conor stayed put and didn’t follow her in right away. He needed a few minutes for things to calm down below the waist.