A tale of firsts, set on a rainy camping trip, among young friends.
Based on a post by Josh stone, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.
The Night Storm
Surrounded by flimsy, billowing nylon, the wind howled outside. The fly sheet occasionally touching the inner when the buffeting storm blew strongly enough, and patches of damp were beginning to appear where the outside was attempting to breach the inner. The light was fading outside and somehow the dankness of the evening was everywhere within. He stayed at the campsite while the others had headed for the village in the coast of Southwest Ireland. Local lads had told of a party, beer, and ‘opportunity’.
Inside her large nylon tent with him, she also lay, the two rather unknown to one another. Her head at the far end, and his head near the zips, forming the door. Their two sleeping bags were zipped up, and they were each warm and safe, escaping as they had into the nearest dry tent they found. Her tent.
The severe weather overtook the two after the rest of the group had departed for a party, in the village.
There was a silent tension, which neither of them could quite understand. Cordial talk of home, of family and of newly forming college friendships. The trip was planned by just a few of those participating. But by word of mouth the invites expanded the event, until it became a motley crew of friends-of-friends-of-friends. She was invited by her friend next door, who was a cousin of the guy who invited a guy who invited him. Even the travel was done in a loose caravan. He drove his own SUV. She caught a ride in her neighbor’s Honda Civic.
Conversation flowed easily enough; but their bodies were somehow tense, his legs were restless.
To break the growing silence, he shuffled out of his sleeping bag and explained that he was going to fetch water and his ‘head torch’. A flashlight gadget mounted to an elastic headband, for hands-free illumination. Was there anything she wanted?
His tent was damaged when a pole snapped. They quickly grabbed his ‘essentials and took refuge in her ‘family tent’ which she had all to herself.
The others would be away for hours yet. Who knows if the other tents will survive this barrage?
Arriving back, he carefully unzipped her tent door, He removed his boots and waterproofs, just inside; so as to keep them as dry as possible, and to prevent any remaining dry contents of the tent from getting wet. A ritual he had become so used to these last few days, of the perpetual Irish rain. As he entered the main section of the tent, a shiver ran down his spine as a drip fell down his face from his soaking wet hair.
“Thank you for staying back at camp. I’m not sure how I’d feel about this weather, if I was alone on this strange coastline.” She said.
“I wonder how the group is doing, and how bad the weather is where they are?” He wondered aloud.
“Maybe they got in a jealous fight with some local guys, and are all now safe and sobering up in the county jail?” she giggled.
She was watching his faint silhouette through the gloom. Then she sat up, holding out a slightly damp towel and rubbing his wet head. He collapsed on his bag, still shivering. He lay for a moment, noticing his head was near to hers this time; sensing her eyes on him, without looking himself. She pulled his open bag up over his body and to his chin. Then settled back into her own cocoon.
The rain had increased its percussive hammering; at once deafening and consoling. Silence fell once more.
After some time, she raised her arm above her head, stretching slightly with a yawn. He did the same. Held above, unsteady, arms began to move towards one another. Tiredness was mentioned, the rain, wondering how the party was going. Slowly, slowly, their hands met in mid-air. Fingers wrapped gently around fingers, a cold palm met a warm palm. He now understood the tension for the first time.
Arms began to ache, held up as they were. They were lowered between bodies, bodies were turned towards one another in symmetrical, silent adjustment. The light was now so dim that little could be made out in the dark of the tent, but he didn't reach for his torch. They lay there for perhaps an hour, hand in hand, completely still and without a word uttered. He thawed out, warmed up, relaxed.
She felt the sensuality of the moment, and deeply waited. At some point, they both noticed the breath of the other, first in the rise and fall of chests, and then in breath on cheeks, breath on lips. They became synchronous, breathing deeply, imagining each other's face, only centimeters away from their own. At some point their lips finally met.
Both he and she were filled with the yearning of youth, yet relaxed and warm, protected from the elements, protected by each other. Their kiss was deep and relaxed. Her full lips parted and her tongue slipped slowly into his mouth, sensing for the first time his heat, his desire. His senses awakened, he became aware of the smell of wood smoke on their clothes, the smell of her hair.
He brought a hand up to her neck, felt her dark hair between his fingers as he held her close. Their tongues explored each other's lips, their faces and necks, and the pouring rain disappeared amidst their enjoyment. She shifted her body, unzipping her sleeping bag and pulling his leg across, his between hers. She put a hand on the small of his back, he mirrored her movements. His hand glancing across her back, feeling ribbed cotton of her top, her skin beneath. Her hand gliding up. under his flannel shirt, tingling his bare skin.
On they kissed, their mouths wet and hot. Somehow, without either being aware, their bodies were now pressing together more, as he put his hand gently over her ass. His denim jeans became slightly stiff as he moved his hand, feeling the contours of her behind. He felt her thigh press ever so gently around his own, felt as his cock began to respond to her movement. This was what he had been hoping for, what he had imagined so many times, back in the city. Her movements became more and more definite, and his confidence grew. Her hands were on his ass now, and he sensed her need for more.
His hand went up her side smoothly, in one movement. He felt the bottom of her bra and the bulge of her small breasts beneath her vest top. Her breathing began to deepen as his thumb cupped her. Full breast.
In a graceful motion, she arched her back and lifted off her top, then settled back down, flat on her back. Without any self-awareness, his body rolled on his side, to fill the vacuum left by her re-positioning.
He could feel the slightly elastic cotton material of her bra more clearly under his fingers now. He felt the plain hem as the cotton dipped towards the middle of her chest. She was perfectly formed, her breast fitting perfectly into his hand. As his fingers reached the underwire of her bra, he reached into the other side, feeling the flesh of her breast for the first time. She jumped as his hand brushed over her nipple, her tongue pushing further into his mouth as they embraced.
Fingers retracted slightly, and his index finger and thumb held her tiny nipple gently. It was hard and clearly sensitive, judging by her reactions, and the skin around it was the softest he had ever felt. His erection was now clearly felt by both of them.
He fumbled as he attempted to unclip her bra, only to discover the absence of any back clips at all.
She came to the rescue, reaching into the valley between her orbs, and flicking the front clasp in a swift release. The stretch cloth cups swiftly retracted, instantly stripping her tits of any further obstructions.
She was laughing with him as she lifted it over her arms. With the strappy garment out of the way, she reached her far hand around his shoulder, and leveraged her torso and hips, so the two were pressing their pelvises against each other, still clothed and getting hotter.
In the dimness of the evening, neither of them was able to see each other. Now he would have to explore by touch alone. Neither could benefit from the facial expressions of the other. Their actions stood alone, in expressing desire and pleasure.
Her pelvis was rocking backwards and forwards against him in a slow and steady rhythm as he lowered his head to affectionately kiss each of her nipples. Less noticeable was his ascent over her body. He lay above her, his body arched as his lips and tongue explored first one, and then the other. The skin around her nipples began to wrinkle and tighten. His elbows propped his torso up, while his hands held two perfect orbs, as she breathily told him how good it felt.
As he sucked her, she felt his sucking on her nipples deeply across her body. In her breast, in her stomach, between her legs.
When she could stand no more, she pulled him over and before he knew it, he was flat on his back, just inches from the sidewall of the tent, and she was once again kissing him deeply.
Her hands found his defined chest, before plunging downwards, toward his waist.
He grimaced and her weight on his cock became a discomfort.
As her pelvis twerked aggressively, she felt his erection through his trousers for the first time. Instinctively she shuffled down on his thighs, as her hand reached his bound up cock.
He subconsciously pinched her nipples hard, and her fingers pinched his phallic crown.
They broke to re-center themselves in the center of the tent. Then she knelt straddling his thighs. She was now knelt and vertical, over his thighs, and fumbling to find his zipper waistband snap.. Her gentle movements up and down his erection became more and more confident, and she took his hand, guiding it to her still-clothed crotch..
He had heard about girls getting hot, but he was still astonished at how much warmth was radiating from her. He could feel the shape of her vulva beneath her jeans, could feel her athletic legs as they joined her torso. Suddenly there was a desperation in the tent. Both she and he became impatient to explore further.
She finally unsnapped and unzipped his barrier, and pulled his trousers open. He arched to raise his ass off the floor. She quickly slid his jeans down to his ankles. Meanwhile he removed his top.
As he was doing, so she sat back and unbuttoned her jeans, slipping them over her slim hips, then sat back while she drew her legs up, to finish removing the tight, form-fitting blue jeans.
Her knees were now raised in the tent as she pulled the tight denim over her ankles. He pictured what she would look like, imagined her legs now free for him to explore. She leaned back, supported by her extended arms, while she enjoyed his explorations.
He took her foot, still raised towards her chest, and traced her smooth leg up her calf, past her knee. He felt as the flesh softened on the underside of her thigh, felt as it curved up towards her ass cheek.
And then he felt them. Her pants were as he had imagined. Plain, thin snug cotton from the feel of them. He cupped her buttocks in both hands. In the pitch dark he was feeling her open her hips up so his hands could feel the inside of her thighs. The unspoken invite compelled him to reach inwards, to feel the edge of her knickers.
He was not at all certain. He'd heard others talk of course, had read things. But he had never been able to do this before. A surge of anxiety suddenly flooded his body. Uncertainty threatened to take over.
As if by instinct, she took charge. Taking his hand, she moved it across her vulva, rested it on the hot mound which was beneath the thin layer of cotton stretched across it. He felt her thin pubic hairs beneath, the damp line forming where he knew her opening lay.
He moved his fingers across the place where he imagined her clitoris would be. That’s when he felt her cleft, the softening of her, the point at which his finger was able to press a little deeper, where the resistance of her crotch gave way to heat and openness. He stroked in small circles, finding a rhythm and the right place. He was quickly learning by her breathing and subtle movement. Her soft panting was a good indication of her enjoyment, his insecurity beginning to disappear.
She slid both her hands up is thighs, then felt the tight fabric of his boxers. Gently feeling the ascending contours, she fingers met at the apex, when she heard his groan.
He saw none of this, lying there in the deep darkness of this rainy night. But the soft touch disappeared from his phallic crown. Then he felt two soft hands on his inner thighs. They explored the caverns under his loose boxer shorts, until they again met at the maypole of this holiday.
Her thumbs rubbed the underside of his rigid mast, while her index fingers gently petted his wide spongy crown.
The hefty and labored breathing instinctively counseled her to redirect her affections.
She slid the fingers of both her hands down, around his hairy sack. While she elevated the package, both her thumbs explored the enclosed contents. Two plump meatballs responded to her thumbs’ manipulation. She even explored the cords and tubes which came from the balls and exited up into his pelvis.
Then she extracted both hands and slid them up over his remaining garment. At the top of his hips, she firmly hooked the waistband and pulled at his boxer shorts, thus releasing his erection in the cold of the tent. He felt as one hand cupped his balls, massaging him slowly, as the other hand wrapped his naked cock again.
He feared he would not be able to hold on, but his focus on her enjoyment and the temperature of the tent helped him push this urging aside for now.
She explored his textures and shapes with her thumb. He groaned and sat up, as she began to move her hand up and down his cock. She felt every detail of his length, his foreskin, the tip of him wet with precum now on her thumb.
She lifted her knees up once more, enabling him to pull her panties over her hips and up her legs, as carefully as he could. He was on his knees as her legs extended out, now finally free of restrictive fabrics.
She pulled him against her bosom as she laid her legs down to his side, and they lay beside one another. He cupped her bare ass with one hand, while his other arm wrapped under her shoulder, to stroke her back.
He was feeling his cock upwardly pressed between their hot bodies on the mess of sleeping bags. Their kiss was more open and natural than before. They lay together, her breasts against his bare chest. Again her hips began to move, his leg upper leg between hers. Her upper leg slowly came up and her lower leg hooked around his ass, so they could move as one. And this time, his movements matched hers. His hard cock rubbing against her soft downy pubic hair. It was exquisite.
His hands reached around her toned ass until he felt her warmth, and his fingers traced the edge of her soft outer labia, her tender skin covered with fine hairs. She rotated her hips back, giving his fingers increased access, and his heart raced as he felt up to where they met once more above her clitoris. Her tongue licked the nape of his neck as he began, ever so tentatively, to circle her nub with his finger. Then his thumb began slipping ever so slightly between her hot folds. He had never felt anything so sublime. He felt her tiny clit grow beneath his finger, the wetness on his finger gliding across, around, within.
Her wetness was like hot syrup, slippery and inviting. He was desperate to explore.
Sensing his desire, she rolled onto her back, allowing her legs to part slightly. He got to his knees once again, still making love as a blind man. He stroked her legs gently, following her contours from both her knees up to her vulva. He felt the soft line of pubic hair and used both hands to offer the softest line around her now-engorged lips. As his fingers met at her clitoris, he allowed his left hand to part her a little, his right feeling her wetness fully for the first time, and she nearly came immediately when his finger slipped easily into her tight cunt.
He shuffled astride her body a little, allowing her hands to reach him once more, at the moment she drew a finger from the base of his cock all the way to his tip. His sack nuzzled between her crotch, his pole elevated like the canon of a battleship.
He scooted back down a bit, to further explore the dark cave of her womb, where he discovered the hot ridges of muscle within her body as she tilted her hips towards him. He heard her pant as he began to move his finger inside her. Her one hand came to her clitoris, to accent his strokes, while her other hand embraced and stroked slowly on his erection as he began to understand how to please her.
Her right hand now rubbing her clitoris vigorously. She told him to add another finger, and the sounds became louder, her voice, his voice, the wetness between her legs as his fingers moved within. In the dark and with the others miles away, there was no need to hold back.
His fingers working in and out of her soaking hole, and he felt her muscles contract around his digits as her pace grew more and more frantic on his cock. "I'm going to come" she cried in a guttural voice he hadn't heard before, and her legs began to shake as she lifted her ass up towards him. He felt as she squeezed his fingers with her strong vaginal muscles and surge after surge of contractions around his fingers were matched with her squeezing of his cock as she choked it. As she shouted, he groaned. His senses lost equilibrium as his hips began to tingle. Then a pressure hit his cock and streams of his seed flowed from him. She felt the heat of his semen as it landed in strings across her stomach and groin.
They collapsed in an exhausted embrace. His fingers slipped from her cunt, and she released his scepter, as their orgasms pervaded.
He laid over her, with a thin layer of semen allowing their torsos to slip and slide.
Their breathing steadied as they kissed once more, a first time for both of them, the evening's pleasures replaying in both of their minds as they drifted into dreams, the rain still hammering on the tent and the wind howling around them as they slept.
He awoke in a tangle of limbs and clothes. It was now light outside the tent, but there was no sign of life from the others yet. The rain had stopped and he noticed the special quiet that often emerges after a storm. Then, he noticed how cold he was.
Gathering her sleeping bag around them both, he pulled her close, her body was warmer than his. His hands held her tanned shoulder, the muscles of her upper back flexing slightly as she brought herself towards him in her slumber.
She rolled him onto his back, then rested her head on his bare chest. The thick sleeping bag pulled up over both their heads.
He felt as her breasts pressed against his chest, her twitch he moved his hand to the small of her back. He began to doze off, half asleep once more, and yet he couldn't help but imagine, to remember the night before, and to fantasize about what might lie ahead.
She was next to stir. Her brown eyes opened, taking in the man she had allowed to be so close last night. A private smile, a finger on his blonde eyebrow, tracing the shape of his angular face, his nose. And now he awoke, their eyes meeting as each pulled the other closer in the cold.
She felt as his hand moved lower, cupping her ass softly as she sighed. Morning greetings were made, eye contact holding, smiles being shared.
They kissed with the softness of morning, the urgency of the night before now gone. Each looked into the others' eyes as their lips parted, their tongues meeting in a slow and comforting silence. Their kiss lasted a long time. Neither could tell exactly how long, but he was warm after a while, they both were. Their hands explored backs, legs, necks. She felt the enlargement as he became hard, her wetness returning.
They both held their breaths as they heard the outer zip of the other tents being undone. The sounds of waking humans, of weary friends beginning to emerge from their tents, of questions being asked.
Morning fantasies faced a detour for the two of them, without words spoken, they hugged tightly, in resignation of their mutual disappointment.
He offered to get up and make breakfast. She watched him get dressed as she regathered covers around her body. Saw his erection, his cock, for the first time. She rested her head on her hand, propped up at the elbow. She was staring with a glint of admiration in her visage. The turgid cock was slightly longer than she had imagined, not too girthy, but beautifully formed.
He was conscious of her eyes on him, feeling both excited and nervous. He turned to her, just glimpsing her small hard nipples before she winked and covered herself completely with the sleeping bag. She was disappointed at his leaving.
The others straggled to rise and gather. The conversation over breakfast was stilted and slow. Heads were fuzzy and it took a long time for the stories of the previous night to begin to be told.
The party, those girls, the long walk home as the sun was coming up. Nobody asked the remnant couple about their night. They were glad, exchanging glances, winks, and smiles; as eggs were fried and tea consumed. The day got off to a slow start. It was clear this was to be the pace of the day, a new couple out of sync with the rest of the group. As most lounged around, lazily; attempting to dry wet clothes after last night's deluge, they prepared to explore.
She slipped her hand into his as they walked towards the dunes, their bodies side-by-side, a magic tension building once more between them. The warm greyness of the morning was comforting and they walked for some miles up the desolate shore, not a person to be seen, sandpipers and oystercatchers the only accompaniment to the gentle wash of the tide and their conversation. They stopped to listen, facing out towards America, all those thousands of miles away, felt the wind in their faces, became aware of their heartbeats.
She suggested it, and he was unsure at first, but soon, they were both laughing as they dropped their bundles, stripped their layers, and ran, towards the sea. She in her tee shirt and pants, he in his boxers. They charged into the waves, feeling the cold saltwater as it slapped their legs, their hips, their stomachs, and for what felt like minutes, but was probably merely seconds, they swam, shouting and laughing, splashing and catching their breath as the freezing water tried to take it away. He watched as she dove in, her beautiful figure, her black hair sleek against her long neck. It was exhilarating for them both, a chance to be excited, stimulated.
He ran, chased by her, back to the shallows, back to the sand. They headed back to their bags amongst the grassed-over dunes where the wind was kinder and where they felt enclosed once more. She saw goosebumps on his shoulders, his skin red from the salt and the cold, water dripping down his cheeks.
He watched her as she watched him, observing her dark nipples, hard with the cold, capping the bulge of her breasts under her white cotton tee shirt. They were even more beautiful than he had imagined from touch alone.
Small, firm, well-defined, perfectly in proportion. His eyes glanced downwards and he noticed her knickers had also become sheer in the water. Her pubic hair was clearly visible to him beneath. He saw the red lines her knickers had left on her thighs before she had pulled them up, defining the curve of her mons more clearly than before, and he followed her tanned legs down to her slender ankles, her small feet. They watched one another for some time, not a word spoken, and without any sense of self-consciousness. Each taking the other in, with a sort of shivering curiosity that neither had experienced before.
She eventually reached for her bag and began to rifle around for towels. They stood facing each other and wrapped themselves in a single large bath sheet. The instant warmth a welcome contrast to the sea air against their skin. Instinctively he placed his hands on her hips, feeling her cold fingers on the small of his back.
To be continued in part 2, Based on a post by Josh stone for Literotica.