The Storm

My first attempt at a story - set on a wet trip with friends in Ireland. All characters and events are fictional, and all characters are over 18. I'd welcome any feedback before I submit chapter 2.

Surrounded by flimsy, billowing canvas, the wind howled outside. The fly sheet occasionally touching the inner when the buffeting storm blew strongly enough, and patches of damp were beginning to appear where the outside was attempting to breach the inner. The light was fading outside and somehow the dankness of the evening was everywhere within. The others had headed for the village. Local lads had told of a party, beer, opportunity.

Inside, two bodies lay, unknown to one another. One head at the far end and one near the zips forming the door. Sleeping bags were zipped up and they were warm and safe, escaping as they had into the nearest dry tent they found. Her tent.

There was a tension that neither could quite understand. Talk of home, of family and of newly forming friendships flowed easily enough, but their bodies were somehow tense, his legs restless.

To break the growing silence, he shuffled out of his sleeping bag and went to fetch water and a head torch. The others would be hours yet, was there anything she wanted?. Arriving back, he carefully unzipped the tent door, removing his boots and waterproofs so as to keep them as dry as possible, and to prevent any remaining dry contents of the tent getting wet. A ritual he had become so used to these last few days, the perpetual Irish rain. As he entered the main section of the tent, a shiver ran down his spine as a drip fell down his face from his soaking wet hair.

She was watching through the gloom. She sat up, holding out a slightly damp towel and rubbing his head. He collapsed into the tent, still shivering. He lay for a moment, noticing his head near to hers this time, feeling her eyes on him, without looking himself. The rain had increased, its percussive hammering at once deafening and consoling. Silence fell once more.

After some time, she raised her arm above her head, stretching slightly with a yawn. He did the same. Held above, unsteady, arms began to move towards one another. Tiredness was mentioned, the rain, wondering how the party was going. Slowly, slowly, their hands met in mid-air. Fingers wrapped gently around fingers, a cold palm met a warm palm. He understood the tension for the first time.

Arms began to ache, held up as they were. They were lowered between bodies, bodies were turned towards one another in symmetrical, silent adjustment. The light was now so dim that little could be made out in the dark of the tent, but he didn't reach for his torch. They lay there for perhaps an hour, hand in hand, completely still and without a word uttered. He thawed out, warmed up, relaxed.

She felt the sensuality of the moment deeply, waited. At some point, they both noticed the breath of the other - first in the rise and fall of chests, and then in breath on cheeks, breath on lips. They became synchronous, breathing deeply, imagining each other's face only centimetres away from their own. At some point their lips met.

Both he and she were filled with the yearning of youth, yet relaxed and warm, protected from the elements, protected by each other. Their kiss was deep and relaxed. Her full lips parted and her tongue slipped slowly into his mouth, sensing for the first time his heat, his desire. His senses awakened, he became aware of the smell of woodsmoke on their clothes, the smell of her hair.

He brought a hand up to her neck, felt her dark hair between his fingers as he held her close. Their tongues explored each other's lips, their faces and necks, and the pouring rain disappeared amidst their enjoyment. She shifted her body, unzipping her sleeping bag and pulling his leg across, his between hers. She put a hand on his back, he mirrored her movements. His hand glancing across her back, feeling ribbed cotton of her top, her skin beneath.

Still they kissed, their mouths wet and hot, their bodies pressing together more as he put his hand gently on her bottom, jeans slightly stiff as he moved his hand, feeling the contours of her behind. He felt her push ever so gently against him, felt as his penis began to respond to her movement. This was what he had been hoping for, what he had imagined so many times back in the city. Her movements became more and more definite, and his confidence grew. Her hands were on his bottom now, and he sensed her need for more.

His hand went up her side smoothly, in one movement. He felt the bottom of her bra and the bulge of her small breasts beneath her vest top. Her breathing began to deepen VP as his thumb cupped her, she lifted off her top. He could feel the slightly elastic cotton material of her bra more clearly under his fingers now, felt the plain hem as the cotton dipped towards the middle of her chest. She was perfectly formed - her breast fitting perfectly into his hand. As his fingers reached the underwire of her bra, he reached into the other side, feeling the flesh of her breast for the first time. She jumped as his hand brushed over her nipple, her tongue pushing further into his mouth as they embraced.

Fingers retracted slightly, and his index finger and thumb held her tiny nipple gently. It was hard and clearly sensitive, judging by her reactions, and the skin around it was the softest he had ever felt. His erection was now clearly felt by both of them. He fumbled as he attempted to unclip her bra, and she came to the rescue laughing with him as she lifted it over her arms. In the dimness of the evening, neither of them was able to see each other now, he would have to explore by touch alone.

Her pelvis was rocking backwards and forwards against him in a slow and steady rhythm as he lowered his head to kiss her breasts. He lay above her, his body arched as his lips and tongue explored first one, and then the other. The skin around her nipples began to wrinkle and tighten, and his hands held two perfect orbs as she told him how good it felt.

She put her hands on his stomach, hands flat on his belly as he sucked her, she felt his sucking on her nipples deeply across her body. In her breast, in her stomach, between her legs. Her hands found his nipples before plunging downwards, feeling his erection through his trousers for the first time. Instinctively he bit her nipple as her hand reacher his cock. It hurt her and she moved her body away slightly. He kissed her mouth gently. Her gentle movements up and down his erection became more and more confident, and she took his hand, guiding it between her legs.

He had heard about girls getting hot, but he was still astonished at how much warmth was radiating from her. He could feel the shape of her vulva beneath her jeans, could feel her athletic legs as they joined her torso. Suddenly there was a desperation in the tent. Both she and he impatient to explore further. She pulled his trousers down and he removed his top. As he was doing so she unbuttoned her jeans, slipping them over her slim hips and down over her feet. Her knees raised in the tent as she pulled tight denim over her ankles. He pictured what she would look like, imagined her pants now free for him to explore.

He took her foot, still raised towards her chest, and traced her smooth leg up her calf, past her knee. He felt as the flesh softened on the underside of her thigh, felt as it curved up towards her bottom.

And then he felt them. Her pants were as he had imagined. Plain, thin cotton from the feel of them. He cupped her buttocks in both hands, feeling her open her hips up so his hands could feel the inside of her thighs, reach inwards, feel the edge of her knickers. He was not at all certain. He'd heard others talk of course, had read things. But he had never been able to do this before. A surge of anxiety flooded his body. Uncertainty threatened to take over. As if by instinct, she took charge. Taking his hand, she moved it across her vulva, rested it on the hot mound beneath the thin layer of cotton stretched across it. He felt her thin pubic hair beneath, the damp line forming where he knew her opening lay.

He moved his fingers across the place where he imagined her clitoris would be. He felt her cleft, the softening of her, the point at which his finger was able to press a little deeper, where the resistance of her crotch gave way to heat and openness. He stroked in small circles, finding a rhythm and the right place, learning by her breathing and subtle movement. Her soft panting a good indication of her enjoyment, his insecurity beginning to disappear.

She pulled at his boxer shorts, releasing his erection in the cold of the tent. He felt as one hand cupped his balls, massaging him slowly as the other hand touched his naked cock for the first time. He feared he would not be able to hold on, but his focus on her enjoyment and the temperature of the tent helped him push this temptation to one side for now. Her left hand wrapped itself gently around him, she explored his textures and shapes with her thumb. He groaned and kneeled up, as she began to move her hand up and down his penis. She felt every detail of his length, his foreskin, the tip of him wet with precum now on her thumb.

She lifted her knees up once more, enabling him to pull her pants over her hips and up her legs, as carefully as he could given his excitement not to touch the inner tent.

She pulled him towards her as she straightened her legs, and they lay beside one another. He cupped her bare bottom with one hand stroking her back with his other, feeling his penis pressed between their hot bodies on the mess of sleeping bags. Their kiss was more open and natural than before. They lay together, her breasts against his bare chest. Again her hips began to move, his leg between hers. And this time, his movements matched hers. His hard penis rubbing against her soft downy pubic hair. It was exquisite.

His hands reached around her toned bottom until he felt her warmth, and his fingers traced the edge of her soft outer labia, their tender skin covered with fine hairs. She pushed her hips back, giving his fingers increased access, and his heart raced as he felt up to where they met once more above her clitoris. Her tongue licked the nape of his neck as he began, ever so tentatively, to circle her nub, his finger slipping ever so slightly between her hot folds. He had never felt anything so sublime. He felt her tiny clit grow beneath his finger, the wetness on his finger gliding across, around, within.

Her wetness was like hot syrup - slippery and inviting. He was desperate to explore. Sensing his desire, she shifted onto her back, allowing her legs to part slightly. He stroked her legs gently, following her contours from her knees up to her vulva. He felt the soft line of pubic hair and used both hands to offer the softest line around her now-engorged lips. As his fingers met at her clitoris, he allowed his left hand to part her a little, his right feeling her wetness fully for the first time. He shuffled alongside her body a little, allowing her hands to reach him once more, and he nearly came immediately when his finger slipped easily into her tight vagina at the moment she drew a finger from the base of his cock all the way to his tip.

He felt hot ridges of muscle within her body as she tilted her hips towards him, and heard her pant as he began to move his finger inside her. Her other hand came to her clitoris. She pumped his erection harder as he began to understand how to please her, her right hand rubbing her clitoris vigorously. She told him to add another finger, and the sounds became louder - her voice, his voice, the wetness between her legs as his fingers moved within. In the dark and with the others miles away, there was no need to hold back.

His body was beside hers once again, his fingers working in and out of her soaking hole, and he felt her muscles contract around him as her pace grew more and more frantic on his penis. "I'm going to come" she cried in a guttural voice he hadn't heard before, and her legs began to shake as she lifted her bottom up towards him. He felt as she squeezed his fingers with her strong vaginal muscles and surge after surge of contractions around his fingers were matched with her squeezing of his cock as she pulled it back. As she shouted, he groaned, and streams of his seed flowed from him. She felt the heat of his semen as it landed in strings across her flat stomach and groin, and they collapsed in an exhausted embrace. His fingers slipped from her vagina, and she held his balls as their orgasms eventually faded. Their breathing steadied as they kissed once more, a first time for both of them, the evening's pleasures replaying in both of their minds as they drifted into dreams, the rain still hammering on the tent and the wind howling around them as they slept.