Disclaimer: No under aged persons. No vehicles were harmed. This story involves people having consensual sex near a camp fire. Don't read it if you don't like that sort of thing.
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It was a weekend away with a group of almost 20 friends to a farm about 2 hours west of Sydney. Out in the bush with four wheel drives, dirt bikes, alcohol and the joy of a late spring weekend in Australia.
Being very warm, we all went swimming in the nearby waterhole and enjoyed copious amounts of liquid refreshment. The boys checking out the girls and the girls checking out the boys while everyone enjoyed the weekend. I even managed to get a few quick looks down Kelly's shirt and a little more when I gallantly helped her as she was climbing down to the water hole.
Kelly was in her late teens like the rest of us, tall with great legs, a genuinely quick smile and flashing dark eyes. Nicely tanned skin, pure black hair and a friend of one of the other girls in our group. Cap that off with great tits and you have the complete package.
Being the new girl in the group and a pretty one at that, most of us were showing off a bit to get attention from her as well as the other girls. Kelly didn't seem to mind the antics and she showed enough discretion to roll her eyes at appropriate points to keep the other girls from getting jealous with her.
When Gaz started rolling a Land Rover wheel (with a big fat tyre) down the hill into the waterhole, we boys thought it was a great game and dodged and weaved away from it, followed it into the water and so on. Until one fateful roll when it bounced off a rock and veered toward the girls. I didn't think and did the dumb thing. I leaped across the track of the wheel and as I passed it, I reached out with one arm to pull it off course and away from the girls. But I gripped too hard, my hand wrapped around and then under the wheel and I went down in a screaming heap. Ok, that's just an Aussie turn of phrase. I wasn't screaming. It bloody hurt though. I'm laying in the grass after a decent sky/dirt/sky/dirt/pain type of event and I could smell the dust and dry grass as it settled on me and I'm thinking that I've really fucked up this time. Then everyone came running while I lay on the ground, holding my arm to my chest to keep it in a comfortable position. The usual cries of "Don't move him!" and "Put him in the coma position!" from the girls, while "Get up ya lazy bastard! Yer not bloody hurt!" (that was Gaz, of course) and the prize of them all was "Shit! Someone get him a beer!" from my mate Stewie. What are mates for? Anyway, I sat up with some help from Gaz and Kelly , while some of the others discussed what to do with me. Of course there was the immediate "Leave him there. Just be careful not to trip over him" and the normal banter that you'd expect from good mates. In the end I was in the back of a car with Kelly on my good side, pressing her boobs against my good arm and smoothing my hair as we headed for the hospital with Stewie at the wheel. And me sneaking peeks down Kelly's top. And she saw me looking.
Several times.
A few hours later my right shoulder was relocated (almost as bad as the original event) along with some damage to that hand, my left hand taped and bandaged with a strain to the wrist and cuts from the crash landing, a cut chin cleaned up with only two stitches and some minor scratches. Ah well, I'll know next time to use my feet to stop a four wheel drive wheel. At one point while we were in the casualty ward, Kelly had gone to powder her nose. Stewie muttered to me as we both followed her jeans clad arse down the corridor with our eyes.
"Geez mate" he said "She took one look at you rollin' around on the grass and went all gooey. Yer won yerself a heart there. Bloody stupid way to do it, ya prick but I reckon but ya got results"
"Fuck off" I said "It was goin' to plan until Gaz rolled that bloody wheel out."
Some extra pethidine, a tetanus shot and a handful of little white pills and we were back in the car and on the way out to the shearing shed that had been made available to us to camp in. The idea was that the unattached girls could sleep in the shed while the fella's could sleep outside in swags or tents. Kelly reckoned that I was knocked about enough to be a safe bet and suggested I slept inside so the girls could look after me. I had no argument with that. A chair was found, a rum and coke set in front of me . . . and I was fucked! One arm in a sling, the other hand wrapped in a bandage and I couldn't pick up my drink. The girls (and the blokes) took turns holding the drink up to my gob but Kelly really stepped up. She sat with me and picked imaginary bits of grass out of my hair and was really good company. At the same time, she did her share of preparing food for the bbq dinner and proved a dab hand in the kitchen.
The barbie was great and I managed to struggle with a fork if someone (yep, Kelly) cut it up for me but the pethidine had worn off and the rum was cutting in, so I was sort of in a bit of a limbo of pleasure and pain. But when the idea of going down to the local pub was raised, I begged off, citing that I had earlier seen a truck tyre that I wanted to tackle tomorrow, so I needed my rest.
Kelly decided to stay with me, citing that she'd had a big day and could keep an eye on me. This brought the expected comments of "Lucky his hands are tied" and "Watch him. He might get better all of a sudden if you get too close." and away they went on the 30 minute drive into town.