πŸ“š the storm Part 97 of 58
the-storm-97
EXHIBITIONIST VOYEUR

The Storm 97

The Storm 97

by dat_dere
8 min read
4.32 (20200 views)
adultfiction

You know those ocean voyage movies? The old-time ones where the ship wanders into a massive storm, and the crew is all below deck hauling out buckets of water, and the captain is strapped to the wheel and is the only thing keeping the ship afloat as the sails whip around him? Yeah, it's definitely not a realistic depiction of the operation of a ship at sea during a storm. But it was a good depiction of me in my canvas platform tent the night of the big storm.

Thirty seconds earlier, I had been dry. Pajamas on, I had gone to the communal water trough in the center of the campsite to brush my teeth. The wind picked up and the smell of rain about to break tickled my nose. Finishing quickly, I rushed back to my tent.

The sky opened, the air around me sizzled with the electric buzz of a nearby lightning strike as night imitated day. A crash resounded to my left, possibly a tree falling. Or a potato gun in the pouring rain? You never knew in a camp like this.

Frantically closing the flaps of my tent, the rain pounded down. Letting out a cry of dismay as I struggled with broken zippers, I failed to zip the flaps shut.

"No!" I shouted into the rain. Campsite staff was supposed to have fixed my tent earlier that day. Was I surprised my zippers were broken? No. They hadn't fixed it two days ago, either.

Desperation shouted from my lips into the wind as I grappled with the flaps in front of me. Te wind picked up; the rain fell horizontally. Evoking the drowning captain on deck I tried to keep my tent dry and failed miserably. It only took a moment for me to come to terms with how soaked I was despite my vice-like grip on the tent flaps. Realization struck. The fucking tent was leaking from above.

"Who the fuck set up this tent?!" I screamed into the wind as I let go of the flaps. They whipped back into the tent, the rain utterly drenching me as I scrambled to grab the emergency rain poncho and duct tape from the spare cot beside me.

The world outside was black and white, stark and deadly. The rain was a solid sheet ripping sound and reason frok the air. Rivers of wafer dripped down my face, plastering my hair, as I frantically taped the poncho over my sleeping bag. Saturated cotton pajamas stuck to my body as I futilely ripped and placed strips of duct tape across the flaps. The flaps, my hands, the duct tape were wet. This was a lost battle, and I knew it.

The rain pounded me as I sat down on my poncho-covered cot. Lightning lit the sky as I looked out over the empty campsite. What possessed me to return to with a severe storm warning? I could be dry down at the meeting hall right now with all the other counselors. But no. I'd come up the hill to ensure all the tent flaps were closed so the campers would have dry tents to sleep in. And they would. Everyone would be dry but me.

"Holy shit," I heard faintly from the rain-soaked landscape in front of me. "Kelly told me you'd come up alone to close all the tent flaps. But why the fuck did you stay up here alone in the storm?" came the faint voice.

My eyes wet, partially from the rain, partially from pity tears, I couldn't make out more than a dark form approaching my soaking wet tent. All I knew was a blurry form with a deep male voice approached me from the void.

He pulled the flaps closed behind him, temporarily blocking the rain as he stepped into the tent.

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"I look like a drowned rat," I whimpered.

"Because for some stupid reason, you put your pajamas on and decided to hang out in flood tent instead of heading back down the hill?" boomed the mystery man struggling to be heard over the raging deluge.

I wiped my eyes and he resolved into Doug as he continued to hold the tent flaps behind him. Raindrops coming through my poorly waterproofed tent chased each other down his raincoa. My arms crossed my breasts self-consciously, the wet cotton of my top conforming to my body.

"I need to change my clothes," I stated as I stood and forced my arms away from my front so I could open my suitcase. Doug's eyes boldly wandered across my tits in the flickering lantern light.

"Should I close my eyes?" Doug asked as I pulled out jeans and a sweatshirt. "It's not like I can turn around or let go of the tent flaps."

"I don't care. I'm wet and miserable," I answered.

My top came off, his eyes locking onto my breasts. I faced him defiantly. Instead of closing his eyes, he smiled wickedly. What the fuck? I pulled my wet shorts off, the dry clothing just inches away. My panties were soaked to the skin, outlining the lips of my pussy for his purusal. I could pull on the sweatshirt and not stand naked in front of this man. But some primal part of me that was undeniably turned on by the storm pulled off my panties and stood bared before him. His grin widened.

What are you doing? I thought as I picked up the sweatshirt but didn't put it on. I held it out above the suitcase, frozen. He was ten years older than me, and our relationship had been professional and friendly. We ate meals together and shared shifts working with the campers. The age gap and professional nature of our work had been enough that I'd never approached for anything past friendly banter. But for years I'd wondered what his large hands could do to my skin, what his mouth would feel like on my neck. Every functioning brain cell warned me about pursuing the course of action suggested by his leer.

But damnit, summer camp made me so horny. Being outside in the woods all week with all that fresh air and sunshine. Well, except for tonight. But a week of changing my clothing in a tent, showering outside, sleeping outside. Outside was what did it, I was convinced.

The first night of camp, I'd climbed into my cot in the nude, the back flaps of my tent open to the night breeze. Grateful to the darkness of the forest around me, I spread my legs wide and let the wind play across the sensitive skin beginning to moisten between my legs. My arms stretched over my head, enjoying the freedom of bunking in a single tent for a change, not having a roommate. My fingers kneaded my tits until the nipples hardened under my palms. Letting my fingers play across my breasts, teasing until I needed to feel the twist of thumb and forefinger against the hardening nubs. The cool breeze played across my clit until I'd nearly cum. My fingers found that sensitive hood and drew through the slick gathered there.

Thoughts of that orgasm drove me as I dropped the sweatshirt back into the suitcase and closed it up, anticipating the strengthening gale that would hit any moment.

"You nut case, get dressed!" Doug bellowed at me above the storm outside, his smile faltering.

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"But the storm turns me on so much," I answered, inching toward him.

Dough regarded me for a moment, then a moment more. Then he let go of the tent flaps, which blew violently into the tent.

"You truly are insane," he said as I stepped into him and removed his raincoat. He threw off his shoes, toeing them under the extra cot where they might remain dry if he was lucky. I pulled his shirt over his head and leaned in to kiss him.

Both soaked, rain pouring our faces, I cupped his cheeks and ran my tongue across his lips. He unzipped his jeans and freed his rigid cock. His muscular thighs revealed inch by inch as his jeans fell to the ground. Warmth traveled up my shivering back and down my ass as his hands connected.

"You're freezing," he said as my hands tangled in his soaking hair. It occurred to me that we were standing naked in an open tent, bared to the world--or at least the foot and a half of visibility in front of us in the storm. His hands rubbed up and down my arms, warmth blooming from his touch. Heat and the steady rhythm of his heart sustained me as he pulled me tightly to his body.

I turned in his arms, my ass now pressed against the hard heat at my back. His hands massagied tits slick with rain. His thrust against my cheeks startled me as his hand slipped between my legs, fingers breaching me. His thumb rubbed across my clit, wetness washed away by the rain as fast as my cubt supplied it. I wondered if it was possible we'd drown as the rain washed across my face and the wind stung my nipples.

"Hold on tight," he said. "This storm is about to really take off."

His hands steadying my hips, I reached back and guided him inside of me. A single hard thrust and we were joined. As he thrust and thrust, I marveled at how equally his large hands and the wind shared the obligation of keeping me in place.

Leaning into the wind, my arms outstretched to embrace the storm, he embraced me from behind. Fuck me, I sang to the wind. Fuck me, I demanded of the rain. Lightning crackled in front of us, and I felt alive as he came in me.

He kissed my neck and pulled out of me as I collapsed back on his chest.

"So we did that," he stated.

"Yes," I said.

"Can we get dressed now and go somewhere fucking dry?"

"Of course," I answered.

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