When my friend Cathy asked me if I'd like to go camping with her and her father I jumped at the idea. I like camping and have been out with Cathy and her father before and always had a great time.
Now that we've both left school and joined the work force it's proved much harder to find time when we're all on holidays together, but by a lucky break we were all scheduled to have holidays in January this year. Mr Dee suggested a week camping to Cathy and she rang me and invited me along. So it's away we go.
It turned out that Mr Dee had been planning the camping trip for a while and had already booked a camping site for us up in the mountains. While the place was pretty basic it did have a decent sanitary block, and I've always found that a plus. Camping is fine, but dropping your panties and piddling behind a bush is always a minus.
We got to our camping site and pitched our tents. It was quite funny really. All our previous trips Mr Dee had the big tent and Cathy and I snuggled together in the smaller one. This time Cathy pointed out to her father how much we'd grown and said that we'd be sharing the larger tent this time. Mr Dee grumbled but agreed.
We had a relaxing first day and Cathy and I sat up late talking about anything and everything. You know how it is when you're doing a bit of catching up. Eventually we both drifted off to sleep and that was it until the next morning.
There's one thing that I always forget about these camping trips and it always comes as a horrible shock when I remember. Well, it's not really remembering but having the matter pointed out to me rather forcefully.
Cathy is an early bird. She wakes up and gets up at the crack of dawn. Me, I spot the crack of dawn, point out that I didn't do it and snuggle back into my sleeping back. I'm quite prepared to stay there until dawn is not only cracked but broken, swept up and put tidily in the bin.
Cathy's way of handling this has been to head off to the sanitary block for an early morning shower and to leave word with her father that she expects me to be awake by the time she gets back. He's another early bird and he always thinks it's funny to tip me out of my sleeping bag to chase after Cathy.
Now look, I'm an adult now. I didn't seriously expect Mr Dee to come in and tip me out of my sleeping bag at my age. And I have to admit he didn't. Do you want to know what the miserable pervert did?
He came into the tent telling me to rise and shine. I lay still, praying he'd go away. Then he unzipped my bag about half way and for one horrible moment I thought I was just going to be turfed out of it, but no.
He slipped his hand into the sleeping bag and it landed on my tummy. Then he felt his way up under my pyjamas until his hand was brushing across my breasts. I squeaked, my eyes popped open and my hand was very quickly tugging his hand away from there.
Did he resist? Of course not. He let me drag his hand away but he sure managed to cop a feel while he was doing it. But instead of taking his hand out of my bag it just went travelling down my body in the other direction.
His hand slipped into my pyjama bottom and settled on my lower tummy, moving back and forth across it while his fingertips threatened to slip under my panties. He didn't go quite that far but it was certainly far enough to wake a girl up, I'll tell you that.
I hurriedly grabbed his hand again and this time I kept hold of his arm until I shoved it clear of the sleeping bag. And there was no way I could pretend that I was still asleep, now was there.
I told Mr Dee what I thought of his perverted sense of humour, but I also finished unzipping the bag. I knew when I was beat. I headed off to catch up with Cathy, whining all the way. Cathy thought the whole thing was hilarious.
I was acutely conscious of Mr Dee for the next hour or so, remembering his hands rubbing across my breasts. He, damn him, acted as though nothing had happened, and probably nothing had as far as he was concerned. After all, it hadn't been his boobs getting groped.
The plain normality of his behaviour eventually soothed my jumpiness and by lunch time I'd forgotten all about it. The only thing that recalled it to mind was feeling his hand on my breast at what felt like 5:00 am the next morning. My actions were almost a repeat of the day before, but I remembered just in time what had followed the breast grope and pushed his hand out of the sleeping bag before he could do anything about teasing around the edge of my panties.
Once again Cathy thought the whole thing funny, and once again I found myself fully aware of exactly where Mr Dee was for the next few hours. This time I remembered when I went to sleep and resolved to get up when Cathy did.
I managed it, too, scrambling up as soon as Cathy did, leaving the tent with her. Mr Dee was already up and standing outside his tent and the swine winked at me as we passed. I pretended not to notice. Pervert.
So another pleasant day passed, much the same as the previous two. This time when we finally retired for the night I decided that it was going to be my turn to make Mr Dee embarrassed for a change.
In the morning Cathy scrambled up and asked if I was coming. I pretended to be asleep and with a call of "you'll be sorry" she vanished. I snuggled down and waited and yes, I did drift off to sleep.
