i felt you watching me from your tent.
there i was, wandering around in my sarong with nothing on underneath and there you were in your tent in a slightly different and yet facing me position every time i turned around. i couldn’t help but notice even though originally i was just making my bed.
so i started to play with you a little.
i stuck my ass a little higher in the air and arched my back a little bit more as i adjusted the sheets on my double air mattress. my comfy, blanket covered, flannel sheet wearing ridiculously decadent camping bed.
i have this little ritual when i go camping where i make a fantastic little nest and then every morning if it’s sunny i set out my bed and dry it over top of my tent. this is harder to do in the winter and makes sleeping bags better then. slowly i make my bed with sun warmed sheets and blankets and then i close up the tent and let it cook there all happy and sun-dried and then maybe, if the gods like me that day, just maybe the sheets won’t be icy when i get in them that night.
you would be amazed how well this works.
anyway i noticed you. i noticed you and i know what you were doing and i let you. i slowed my movements slightly and made them more dancelike and i exaggerated them ever so slightly at all times.
i wish i was better at doing this unconsciously but i practise…
each time i crawled out of my tent to retrieve the next layer of bedding i almost fell out of my sarong and i would find a new and wonderful way to bring myself up to standing.
something that involved yoga or pilates to do well. something that a cat or a snake would be proud to own. something, in short, designed to make you crazy to see under my sarong if you weren’t already. i am careful enough with my sarong that i don’t think you ever see more than a glimpse of belly but i know that you know what i’m wearing… or not wearing in this case, underneath.
of course i have to leave and return to my tent with each layer.
of course the breeze has to whip the thin fabric of my ‘dress’ around.
of course i have to make the bed slowly and carefully with much kneeling and reaching and stretching.
i think i hear you groan.
what you don’t know is that my pussy wants you back. it wants you to slide your fingers along it’s sodden channel and flick my clit once, twice, thrice before you slam yourself home in my not quite ready hole. it wants you to toy with it and fuck it and not even be very nice to it as you fuck it from behind and slap and slap and slap my engorged clit with your balls.
it wants you to fuck me and bite me and hold me by the hair and it wants it now.
of course i get so frustrated that i zip up most of the tent door and prop my ass in the air and slide my fingers into that self-same sopping channel.
i tease and i fondle and i gasp and i do not restrain myself.
i allow the soft moans my ministrations inspire to waft out onto the breeze. i gasp a little louder than i need to and each voice wafting through the campground soaks me a little more. my legs are trembling very fast but it’s too soon too fast and i flip over on to my back.
i stare at the small slice of sky visible through the partially open window of my tent and feel myself writhe as i imagine that you are able to see inside. that you are watching me or at the very least listening to me and that your hands have strayed.
strayed to the root of it all as you stroke and fondle and gasp along with me and feel your turgid cock swell within your grasping fingers. i groan again as my mind hears you grunt into your pillow and gasp as you feel the first drops of fluid leak from your thrusting cock.
i let out a higher moan now as i feel the tremors and quakes start at my toes and my centre and the backs of my thighs and my breath and even my fingers and i don’t care anymore who can see but i can see you there stroking and stroking as you picture yourself pounding into my hot grasping centre.
i feel us erupt together and gasp and tremble and shudder as i hear myself moan long and low and my hips thrust and thrust and thrust again as i pop over the edge and collapse, hand gently cradling my sopping mons and i smile and hope you really were right there with me.
