Camping With Anna

This is the true story of a holiday camping trip in the summer of 1997 with my best friend Anna.

I had just celebrated my eighteenth birthday and it was a time when I was unsure of my sexuality and searching for answers.

The events described mark a significant turning point in my life and helped me to begin to understand my sexuality and in particular previously suppressed lesbian and exhibitionist desires.

Although I have not seen Anna for a few years, I will always be grateful to her for being my dearest friend and she will always have a special place in my heart. I do not miss her because I know I will see her again. It has to be.

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Love

Ingenue

* * * * *

Looking back I can see that November 1997 was a significant turning point in my life. I was eighteen and had just finished year twelve at high school. Christmas was only a few weeks away and I was eagerly awaiting the arrival of 1998 to embark on the next phase of my life at university.

During my final years at school I was not particularly popular with boys and rarely troubled by requests for dates. My peers regarded me as a geek who studied hard and actually enjoyed going to school.

In preference to wasting time and emotional energy on members of the opposite sex, I spent most of my spare time with my girlfriends, at the beach swimming and surfing, playing tennis, going to movies and listening to music.

I only had one serious boyfriend and our short-lived relationship had ended just a few weeks before. As it turned out he was not all that nice. He was the first and last guy to break my heart while at the same time doing his best to trash my reputation and enhance his own.

Anna was a few months older than me and was like my big sister as well as being my best friend. All through school we were inseparable, sharing our experiences and supporting each other in good and bad times. We were always there for each other and tackled issues with teachers, parents, boyfriends and puberty together. We shared many common interests and played for the local tennis club, making a formidable doubles combination that was rarely bettered by the opposition.

The big difference between us was that Anna was incredibly attractive and very sought after by the boys at school as well as guys at the tennis club. Despite her popularity she rarely dated and never seemed interested in a steady relationship with any of the guys clamouring for her attention.

Anna was about 165 centimetres tall with a gorgeous figure, long brown hair, soft brown eyes and a beautiful warm friendly smile. I had seen her naked in the showers at the tennis club and was envious of her firm, C cup breasts, tiny waist, flat stomach and firm round butt.

I was taller and except for my long dark hair and great legs, I could have easily been mistaken for a young boy. I had a flat chest, small waist and narrow hips, even my butt was small and tight just like some guys and there was no evidence of any feminine curves. In the last nine years not much has really changed.

I guess the appropriate term for my appearance then is androgynous, but my ex-boyfriend described me to his mates, rather unkindly, as a 'carpenter's dream', bragging that I was flat as a board and easy to nail. Well if that was true he only got to nail me once, on that awful night after my eighteenth birthday party and there was no way he was going to get a second chance.

Neither Anna nor I were keen to be part of the traditional end of year Schoolies week at Victor Harbor, a popular holiday town on the south coast about an hour from Adelaide and decided instead to go to Portland, over the boarder in Victoria. We were planning a relaxing week of camping, sun bathing, swimming and body boarding.

For those not familiar with the concept, Schoolies is supposedly a time for celebration after year twelve exams and an opportunity to let off steam at the end of the final year of high school. Many regard it as a right of passage, but to me it seemed to be a poor excuse to party, perhaps a time to get a little drunk and misbehave.

Anna spent the weekend at my place and early Monday morning we packed my cute, white, 1967 VW Beetle and set off on the five or six hour drive. It was our first road trip together and I was bubbling in anticipation of new adventures as we left suburbia behind and headed up the freeway. The roads we travelled were familiar but the scenery appeared new and exciting because this time we were not just passengers in a car going on a family holidays, we were out there doing it ourselves.

Cruising along at ninety kilometres per hour, my Vee Dub carried us faithfully towards our destination. We had the air conditioning on full; both windows were down, as we listened to the poignant lyrics of the twentieth century's greatest poet, Bob Dylan, as well as the fantastic voice and emotive songs of K.D. Lang and the great guitar of Carlos Santana on the CD player.

We made it to Mount Gambier around three in the afternoon, stopped for a short break and a coffee before heading east, finally arriving at our destination at about five.

We had decided to stay the first night at Cape Bridgewater, a beautiful and quite remote beach about thirty kilometres west of Portland. We picked out a spot almost on the beach, just past the Surf Club and not too far from a public amenity block with toilets and showers.

Now you may think that the combination of two girls and a tent is a recipe for disaster, but we were set up in no time. Ignoring the 'No Camping' sign we put up the tent, laid out our sleeping mats, unrolled our sleeping bags, assembled the gas stove and set up our small portable sink. Talk about organised; we had even brought the kitchen sink.

The beach at Cape Bridgewater is one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. In recent years I have travelled around Australia, been to Europe, North America, Asia and Scandinavia and I still think Bridgewater Bay is very special and has one of the nicest beaches in the World. If you have never been there it is worth a visit next time you are in Victoria.

That evening the sea was calm with a surface as smooth as polished steel. The sun was low in the western sky and except for one or two fishermen, a couple of joggers and a few forlorn, screeching, scavenging seagulls, we had this paradise all to ourselves.

It had been a long drive and we were both famished. Anna grilled some Atlantic salmon and made a fresh salad while I retrieved a bottle of white wine from the esky, set up the small, wobbly camping table and decorated it with candles and wild flowers I found growing nearby.

As we dined by candlelight we watched the sun sink below the horizon and witnessed day gradually prepare for the onset of night, acknowledging its arrival with a stunning, brilliant, golden-red sunset that bathed the landscape with an ethereal hue. It was about ten by the time we finished dinner and cleaned up when Anna suggested a walk along the beach before bed.

The beach was deserted and the still evening air was warm and smelled fresh and clean, infused with the unmistakable salty tang of the sea. The reflection of the full moon shimmered on the ocean like an enormous sparkling diamond set in a huge slab of polished black marble.

We walked together along the beach talking and laughing, splashing our way through the shallow, cool, refreshing water. By the time we had reached the end of the bay, where the sand gave way to the cliffs, we were both soaking.

As we turned to retrace our steps Anna looked at me and without a word took off her top revealing her beautiful breasts, standing out firm and proud with the appearance of smooth alabaster in the soft glow of the moonlight. She slipped off her shorts and panties in one action and stood before me naked, so stunningly beautiful that my heart skipped a beat or two.

She turned and smiled. No words were necessary for me to understand her unspoken question, a question to which I had already answered "yes" in my own mind.

In seconds we were both naked, our unwanted clothes discarded in an untidy pile on the sand. We waded into the surf that rushed eagerly to greet our young bodies, surging up our legs and splashing over our bare sex, making us both squeal with delight. Anna took my hand as we went deeper; laughing and frolicking in the small surf under a canopy of stars that sparkled mischievously in the beautiful moonlit night sky.

We went back to the beach refreshed and exhilarated, picked up our clothes and without dressing, walked hand in hand back along the beach to our tent.

Taking just toiletries and our towels, we walked naked to the showers. The Surf Club was deserted and there was no one on the beach. It didn't matter and I don't think we would have cared or been embarrassed if there had been someone to see us. We were both on a natural high and I was much more aroused than I would have expected by my first small taste of public nudity.

As I stood under the stinging stream of cold water, hoping that it would dampen the fire that was smouldering inside me, I watched Anna in the shower opposite.

Her wet body gleamed in the pale glow of a single light bulb set high in the ceiling. My excitement grew as I watched her rinse her long dark hair, soap her firm young breasts, wash under her arms and between her legs then slide a soapy hand between the cheeks of her tight arse, until every part of her was clean and fresh.

I had often watched her discreetly when she showered at the tennis club after a game and had experienced the same sense of excitement but then it was always accompanied be a variety of conflicting thoughts and feelings that at the time I did not even begin to understand.

Sometimes after showering with Anna at the tennis club I would go home and rush to the privacy of my bedroom, where I would masturbate to relieve myself, always feeling guilty and often sobbing tears of shame and frustration into my pillow.

Now it was like I was seeing her for the first time. She was beautiful and I knew I was attracted to and sexually aroused by her. I wanted to touch her and yearned to take her in my arms, to hold her body against mine, to smell her sweet, female scent and taste her on my lips. Unlike all the times before, that night it felt natural and beautiful, so intoxicatingly wonderful that my head was spinning.

Confused, I pushed these thoughts aside, finished my shower and went back to our tent where I lay awake for ages trying unsuccessfully to make sense of my feelings, before eventually falling into a shallow and fitful sleep.

Sometime during the night I was disturbed by a noise, soft and indistinct, but loud enough to penetrate my consciousness and rouse me from my slumber.

I opened my eyes slowly. The light from the full moon illuminated the inside of our tent, casting a blue hue over everything as it shone through the coloured fabric.

There it was again. A soft rustling and a low moan. My senses tried to focus on the sound as I attempted locate the source, but my mind was still too fuzzy and foggy with sleep.

Again there was a moan, a little louder and deeper this time. It seemed to be coming form the other side of the tent where Anna was sleeping.

I turned my head and saw her bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight. She was laying on her back on top of her sleeping bag. Her eyes were closed her mouth slightly open and she was gently biting her bottom lip.

She had taken off her top and was softly caressing her left breast. I watched fascinated as she cupped the perfectly formed mound and kneaded it gently.

Slowly and deliberately she brought her fingers to her mouth that opened to receive them. Sliding two fingers between her moist lips she sucked them gently, thoroughly coating them with her saliva, her rapt expression suggesting that she enjoyed the oral penetration.

Her hand went back to her breast and she traced small circles around her areola with her wet fingertips. Her nipple responded immediately and she rolled it between her thumb and forefinger, pinching and pulling, coaxing it to a point that stood out hard and proud from her breast. She moaned again.

Reluctantly I dragged my eyes away from her beautiful breasts and the sight of the exquisite torture she was inflicting on her aching nipple.

My gaze travelled down across her flat stomach to the area between her hips. It was delightfully concave, giving the appearance of a smooth, gently sloped valley leading to the prominent hill of her mons. Below that were the sweet folds and the deep well of her sex, hidden enticingly under her black, lace, boy leg panties. Her right wrist lay across her hip and disappeared inside the waistband of her panties.

Beneath the delicate fabric I could see the outline of her hand moving as she masturbated, stroking her pussy with long, slow, deliberate strokes. I imagined her fingers sliding across her moist labia, a fingertip occasionally dipping in her hot wet slit.

As I watched, the pattern her hand made beneath her panties changed as she traced small circles around her clitoris, teasing it and coaxing it hard and erect.

What she was doing was so familiar and I watched in wonder as she mirrored, almost exactly, my own actions when I was alone in my bedroom. I smiled as I remembered how I made my clit throb, sometimes deliberately denying myself the relief of an orgasm until the pleasure had almost turned to pain and was at the very limits of my endurance.

I could hear her breathing, now fast and shallow, each breath accompanied by a low moan coming from deep inside her throat.

I was aware that my nipples had become hard points pressing against the fabric of my top and I could feel myself getting moist from my own arousal, conscious of a small but spreading wet patch on the front of my panties.

Anna moaned again, quite loudly this time. Again the pattern of movement beneath her panties changed, indicating that she needed more than just pleasurable teasing and gentle stimulation. She was rubbing herself with short fast strokes, side to side across her clit, perhaps impatient to achieve her climax.

My hand was inside my own panties, my fingers sliding across my smooth, bald, soft, wet pussy lips, starting at the top, then sliding the full length to the bottom and back again. They repeated the journey again, over and over and over, tracing the very familiar path with skill and familiarity developed from many hours of delightful solo stimulation.

As my hand travelled up the length of my slit, I slid one finger between my pussy lips, gently running it along just inside my silky labia. I raised my hips to greet the welcome invader, delighting at the sensations it caused deep in my pussy.

Anna's breathing quickened, matching the increased speed and urgency of her fingers on her clit. She was moaning almost continuously now and I could see that she was rapidly approaching her orgasm.

My own pussy was sopping and I eased down my panties with my free hand, pushing them to my knees. Impatiently, I tugged them down to my feet and kicked them off. Unrestrained my fingers were better able to continue their task, taking me closer to an orgasm of my own.

I looked over at Anna. She had taken off her panties and both hands were between her legs. She had two fingers buried deep in her cunt as she simultaneously frigged her clit with her other hand to bring what was obviously now desperately needed relief.

Reluctant to stop my ministrations even for a second, I quickly grasped the hem of my top and in one quick movement, took it off and cast it aside. My aching nipples responded immediately to the cooler air and I grinned as I remembered by ex boyfriend's comments about me being as 'flat as a board'. He might have been right, but if only he had understood and taken the time to find out just how sensitive my breasts and nipples were, he would have been rewarded with pleasure beyond his wildest dreams.

My thoughts were interrupted by the noises coming from Anna's side of the tent. I looked over and saw her body rigid and shaking as she drove herself relentlessly towards her orgasm. Her back was arched, her hips pushed forward, legs spread with the only points of contact between her and her sleeping bag being her heels and her shoulders.

Transfixed, I watched the wonderful sight of my beautiful friend on the verge of orgasm, her arousal and passion driving my desire to heights I had never experienced before.

Suddenly her left hand flew up to her mouth and she bit down hard on the heel of her hand, trying in vain to stifle the sound of her moaning or maybe simply in an attempt to prepare for the onslaught of pleasure that was about to take over her body.

Her head rolled, her eyes fluttered open and she looked up, our eyes meeting as she surrendered and was overwhelmed by a massive orgasm that seemed to engulf her whole being.

She smiled. No words were needed, no explanation necessary, least of all an apology. In those few seconds our souls were as one and we experienced the joy of shared intimacy and pleasure.

I turned away and closed my eyes, not because I didn't want to watch her any more, but because my own urgent needs were demanding my full attention.

My arousal was fast approaching a peak. I was close to orgasm and needed to concentrate on satisfying my voracious, hungry cunt.

I worked two fingers deep into my wet pussy. With my other hand I rubbed my clit. I was already on the verge of orgasm, needing just a little more to push me over the edge.

As I fucked myself I sensed movement nearby. I opened my eyes; Anna was kneeling by my side watching. I was not ashamed or embarrassed by her presence. In fact it was exactly the opposite. I wanted her to watch me. I was excited and proud, naked, my back arched with my legs spread and my sex open for her. I wanted to share this beautiful moment with her. I wanted her to share the pleasure of my orgasm. I simply wanted her.

She lent forward, bringing her soft lips close to my ear. I could feel her sweet, warm breath tenderly caress my cheek. "Oh yes Catherine." She whispered, "You look so beautiful, so sexy. Let it go, come for me darling."

As if I was receiving her permission, her beautiful words were exactly what I needed and they pushed me over the edge, releasing a crushing orgasm that reached the core of my being, draining me and leaving me spent and exhausted.

As I lay there trembling, trying to regain my breath and bring my pounding heart back under control, Anna reached down, took my hand in hers, raised it to her soft, sweet lips and tenderly kissed my fingers. I smiled, incapable of anything else.

Basking in the glow of a wonderful orgasm I realised that it was the first time anyone, other than my parents, had ever called me beautiful. At that moment I knew I could shed forever the image of the confused, plain, tall, skinny geek with a flat chest. With those few words Anna had allowed me a glimpse of myself as a beautiful, sexy, sensuous and desirable woman who was just beginning to discover and understand her sexuality. Anna had opened a door and I had taken my first tentative, faltering steps on a journey of exploration that would ultimately lead me to the discovery of my true self.

Cradled in Anna's tender and understanding arms, with my head resting on her lap where I inhaled her intoxicating scent and the delicate aroma of her recent orgasm, I fell into a deep sleep, satisfied and very happy. My last thoughts as sleep overcame me were of a future that I would embrace with a new found confidence and eager anticipation of wonderful and exciting days ahead. I knew Anna would be a part of that future and at that moment could wish for nothing more.