I was so excited to be going camping. Me and three of my buddies, Tom, Jared, and Levi, guys that I worked with, drank with, went shooting with. We had secured three days off from work, three tents, and a truck full of guns, ammunition, and booze. We were set.
We set out early in the morning, wanting to maximize our time in the hills. We'd managed to squeeze all four of us into Jared's truck. It was a tight fit, with me pushed up against the door and Levi practically sitting in my lap, but we were all friends, and didn't think anything of it. We were all straight, after all. Nothing to worry about. Arriving at the campsite, though, was a big relief. Finally, the opportunity to stretch our legs and reacquaint ourselves with the concept of personal space.
Me and Levi started setting up the tents as Jared and Tom unloaded the guns, food, and booze. It was then that I noticed the tent-to-occupant ratio.
"Hey, guys. We've got three tents and four people. How's that gonna work?" I asked over my shoulder as I pounded the last tent stake into the ground.
Jared immediately spoke up, "I ain't sharing!" I looked to Levi and Tom.
"What do you say, guys?" I asked. Levi kind of shuffled his feet, looking slightly uncomfortable. Tom, on the other hand, cracked open what would be the first of many beers and cheerfully said, " Me 'n Levi can share a tent. Just keep your cock to yourself or you'll find it tacked to a tree!"
All four of us laughed and, with that settled, quickly finished setting up our camp site.
The rest of that afternoon was spent alternately shooting, tending the fire, and watering the tree's around the perimeter of our camp site. Gradually the sun began to sink, and the firearms were put away in favor of the liquor we'd brought along. Well, the liquor and the porno magazine collection we'd been sure to include in our load of supplies. That was a memorable evening, to say the least. We drank around the campfire, passing around the porn, sharing stories of our past conquests, both real and fictitious, and calling bullshit on each other when the stories became too unbelievable.
It wasn't long, though, before the long day and the liquor started to take it's toll. Jared got up, marked one last tree, then stumbled off to his tent and passed out. Tom made himself a screwdriver that was more vodka than orange juice, then promptly lost consciousness sprawled across the floor of his and Levi's tent.
The atmosphere at the campfire changed, somehow. With only Levi and myself remaining, conversation petered out. I was pleasantly buzzed, and was determined to stay up and watch the fire die down to nothing before I turned in. Levi sat to my left, nursing a beer and still thumbing through one of the many issues of Hustler. "Look at that," Levi handed over one of the magazines, open to a full page, glossy picture of an attractive blonde, her lips wrapped around a shaft of smooth, pink flesh. "I'd just about kill for something like that right about now."
I stared at the picture for a moment, aroused, but more than a bit uncomfortable. My buzz was quickly diminishing, and the fact that Levi and I, two 18 year old men, were sitting alone at a campfire, admiring blowjob pictures together. But I continued to look anyways, enjoying the sensation of a slowly building erection. "Nice, definitely nice," I responded. I handed the magazine back, reached over and picked up one for myself, and began flipping through the pages.
The pressure in my jeans was increasing, and the need for release was growing, so I decided to excuse myself for the night and retire to my tent for some quiet self gratification and some sleep. When I stood up, careful to pull my sweatshirt down far enough to cover at least some of the bulge behind my zipper, Levi looked up at me.
"Hey, umm... Look, Tom's passed out and taking up the whole god damn tent. Any way I can throw my bag in yours and pass out for the night?" I felt a mix of feelings when he asked me that; exasperation that I may yet go to bed unfulfilled, fear that Jared and Tom would give us shit the next morning for suddenly changing the sleeping arrangements and what that action implied, and something I wasn't sure of but was not about to analyze.
But my good side got the best of me, and I heard myself telling him, "Sure, no problem."
Levi trotted over to his tent, reached in and wrestled his sleeping bag out from under Tom, and returned to the campfire. We doused the flames with some sand, grabbed a couple of the magazines and a battery powered lantern, and headed for the tent.
After we'd settled in, our sleeping bags a bit closer to each other than my heterosexuality was comfortable with, we laid down and again began thumbing through the magazines. My erection had not dissipated in the least during our move to the tent, and the pressure against my jeans had become uncomfortable.
"Hope you don't mind, Levi, but I ain't wearing pants to sleep tonight." With that, I reached into my sleeping bag, pulled my jeans off, (careful not to accidentally expose myself to my tent mate,) and tossed them against the wall of the tent.
"Me neither. I hate wearing jeans to bed." And Levi's jeans joined mine in the corner.
