Camper Girl Ch 01

The first of a two-part follow-up to Three in a Tent Made for Two.

[The story so far: nineteen year-olds Suzanne and Tim are on a campsite by a lake in the mountains when she makes a suggestion to liven up their sex lives. Tim doesn't take it well and storms off. Suzanne gets over her loss when two fit guys turn up and they embark on a threesome in the tiny tent. Then to her surprise and delight Tim returns contrite and happy to join in. Such is his enthusiasm he goes off with the two guys in their van to seek out similar experiences. Suzanne accepts it's over between her and Tim and stays on at the campsite.]

*

The only problem with that red hot tussle with with Alex, Greg and Tim was that my body had a desperate craving for more. I'd find plenty of volunteers back in the city but I wanted to continue making the most of the mountain air which I was convinced was at least part of the reason I'd got so horny.

But it was looking like I'd gone from feast to famine.

At first it seemed I was about to have my wish granted straight away after the boys left. Three new good-looking young fellows set up their tent about fifty yards away. I busied myself outside my own but they made no move on me and left after a noisy night in their lit-up tent which put their sexuality beyond question for anyone within earshot. Whatever my charms, traffic-stopper tits, long legs rising to a curvy arse and a pretty-enough face, I can't work miracles.

Things didn't get any better over the next two days. I kept an eye out for talent in the village but nobody took my fancy. I sunbathed in next to nothing but all I got for my pains were lustful glances from male campers and frosty looks from wives and girlfriends. By the third day I was beginning to wish I'd gone off with Tim and the boys. I figured even if I did strike lucky, Tim and that randy pair would be a hard act to follow. Feeling defeated, I decided to pack up and drive home to Mum and Dad the next day.

The following morning I ate breakfast then went inside my tent to start packing. I heard a car enter the field, then doors slammed and there were voices. I stopped packing.

Male voices, and I've a knack of judging ages from them. I was guessing early twenties, not much older than me, and so did a warm sensation between my legs. I got onto my front and looked through the gap in the tent flaps. I smiled to myself, rubbed my tingling nipples and hot shaved mound against my sleeping bag.

Lots of joshing and repartee between the four fit-looking lads as they set up their tent. It was of the frame kind which they could eventually stand up in, not a low-down, two-man A-frame like mine, designed to have low-down sex in. My heart was flipping, particularly at the blond six-footer, well-muscled and with a golden tan. The shorter, darker one was hairier, had a crown of black curls and was another hunk. The other taller guy looked a bit older. He had bigger muscles and his manly face knew it. I bet I had four or five inches over the small one, cute with a little pony tail; he'd ride me like a neat jockey. Okay, I was getting well ahead of myself but even so, Mum, Dad and the city were receding into the distance.

I changed into my shiny, extra-short stretch shorts and low-necked, zippered top. I only needed to apply a touch of makeup as I've got nice-shaped eyes and cheekbones that don't need much. Show time, I thought.

I'd intended to be alluring with the zipper of my top half way down to my navel but hadn't intended my large boobs to damn near tumble free as I crawled out of the tent. Pretending indifference to the guys I felt their gazes when I crossed one long bare leg over the other. I applied silver nail varnish, and dabbed at my face in my little compact mirror like I was preparing to go out partying. I put on sunglasses and opened my chic-lit novel—and didn't take in a word.

I listened hard. I couldn't make out what they were saying but their voices were low, conspiratorial, and interrupted by the odd chuckle that to my ears sounded lewd and promised well. Which of them would take his courage in his hands and come across and introduce himself? I could hardly keep the smile off my face. But then I heard the car start and I felt like anything but smiling. I glanced and saw two of the guys were in the car and driving off; worse, one of them was the compelling blond one. Then the other two picked up each end of a canoe that had been on their trailer and were carrying it down to the lake.

Shit, it was looking like I should have made my interest apparent. Maybe I should have worn that itsy-bitsy bikini to prompt a direct approach. Feeling well out of sorts but not enough to complete my packing and leave the campsite forever, I got into my car and drove to the village. I shopped then sat in a café and recalled the tone of the quiet chit-chat between the boys and the looks they'd cast my way. Yeah, there was no way they were batting for the other side like those three guys the other day. Maybe they couldn't believe there wasn't a boyfriend about to spring out of nowhere should a pretender, or pretenders, come sniffing. Well, if they didn't make a move over the next few hours, I would.

My mood sank again when I got back to the campsite and saw none of the gang had returned. The sun was beating down and I crawled into my tent. I could wait.

I felt languorous and horny in the heat. I stripped down to just my little black lace panties, lay back and fed the fingers of one hand inside. I reached back my other hand and pushed the door flaps towards the sides to let in cooler air. Nobody would see into the comparative gloom of the tent. I played with myself and imagined the hot blond one was doing it while his dreamy eyes took in my big boobs, his lips wet and his hard cock about to do a better job than his fingers were doing. I closed my eyes and drifted off under his caresses.

I woke to the regular

thock thock

of badminton. A glance over my shoulder revealed the big beefy guy and the dark one playing. I missed the blond one but these two weren't bad. They were shirtless, their muscles flexing enticingly with each hit. The dark one showed plenty of definition, the big one larger muscles all round. The big guy wore Bermuda shorts, but the dark one's were more to my taste, tight around his butt and packet. He had a light covering of short dark hairs across his pecs with a line heading down to his crotch.

I lay back and stared up at the ridge-pole. I was considering if I should put something on and show myself when I was startled by a white blur whizzing over me and deep into the tent. I raised my head and saw the shuttlecock between my feet. I did a sit-up and grabbed it, then acted on a lightning bolt of inspiration before lying flat again—or as flat as my excitedly heaving breasts allowed. I tried to slow my breaths and racing pulse.

Feet brushing through the grass, a blockage of the sunlight then a handsome face over mine.

It was the dark one, on all fours. 'Hi, can we . . .' His stubbly jaw dropped at the realisation I was almost naked.

'Yes? Go on?' I said, matter-of-factly while my heart hammered.

His gaze did a rapid switchback from my big bare tits, expanding upwards with each shaky inhalation, to my curvy mid-quarters grinding down into my sleeping bag.

He visibly focussed on the matter in hand. 'Er—can we have our shuttlecock back?'

'Come again?' I said, pretending ignorance and not really wanting to succeed. I uncrossed my ankles and he swallowed. He explained his miss-hit shuttlecock.

'If you say so,' I said with a wicked smile, like I was guessing he'd cooked all this up as an excuse to get acquainted. I interlocked my fingers under the back of my neck. He didn't move.

'Well go

on

, then,' I said. 'Start looking.'

He swallowed loudly, shuffled further inside and knelt beside me.

I said, 'I'm Suzanne by the way. Who are you?'

He said his name was Mac. A man of few words but a certified hunk and I was prepared to be patient.

'Holiday?' I asked.

'Yeah. What about you?'

Okay, I wasn't looking for sparkling conversation. I kept it simple: Tim leaving me here. Me off to uni in October. My words couldn't compete with my tits for his attention. His hard-on threatened to peep out from the top of his little shorts. I asked and learned that the big guy, left somewhere outside, was George and the little one, off hiking in the hills with blondy, was Tom.

'What's the blond one called?'

'Oh. Pete,' Mac muttered, like it wasn't worth mentioning.

'No girlfriends?' I said.

'No. Getting a break from women,' Mac said, then looked like he regretted saying as much. I wasn't offended. I pressed the tips of my middle fingers into my hardening nipples, gave him a full-on slutty look and said, 'Good luck with that.'

I stretched my arms back and brought the tent flaps together so we were all cosy and private. More lust in his face than awkwardness now, followed by an intense focus in his eyes as with frantic urgency he tore at the belt of his shorts and dragged them down his furry thighs and shins. It took a delaying touch of my fingers to stop him getting out of his tiny white briefs too. Easy tiger, I thought—it never does to rush these things. Flesh-tones showed through the skin-tight fabric and it was going to be my treat to unpack what promised to be a solid piece of meat.

I couldn't resist casually enquiring when Pete (and Tom) were due back from the hills. 'Eh? Oh dunno,' Mac said, not really engaging with the question. His hands, attempting to cup

my

hills, quite put the matter of Pete out of my head for the moment. His lips were about to join in the fun his fingers were having when my legs, opening wide for business, drew his gaze. He got across me, an arm on each side of my waist, then the tickle of chest fuzz and the press of hard pectoral muscle into my tummy sent waves of heat running through me from top to toes. He fed his fingers under the inch of black lace stretched around my ample hips. Helpfully I lifted one cheek then the other so he could pull my panties out from under me, then he pulled them up my thighs. I did the rest, straightening my legs up to the ridge pole of the tent and deftly used my toes to work my panties the rest of the way up and off. They fluttered down and landed on his head, making me giggle, but he was getting too busy to notice.

I brought my legs down but kept them bent at the knees and pressing back into the tops of Mac's shoulders. He stroked down the backs of my thighs and I shivered in the heat as his fingers strummed over my pussy lips, then slipped downwards, curling into the cleft of my uplifted arse. He let out a whoop of surprise and I felt him pluck the shuttlecock out from its hiding place. He smirked back at me, impressed by my ingenuity. I smiled back sweetly, got my hands on his head and pushed his face down where it belonged.

Enjoying the warm insistence of his tongue perilously close to my pussy, I decided to be more forthright with his own rampant gear. I tilted my top half sideways and rasped my nipples over his hard stomach, then I tugged down the waistband of his briefs and gave a silent whistle as his freed cock leaned out, raw and meaty, not quite into my open mouth. I got his white briefs down his strong thighs from where he used his feet to yank them down the rest of the way and off. All he was wearing now were pink tyre-tracks which the elastic waist band had etched into his skin.

In this twisty sixty-nine we grappled strenuously, gasps and moans from our mouths as they got to work. I went wild on his cock, lavishing saliva on it from balls to crown while his tongue prised me wide, scooped and tasted.

Daylight broke in behind my head and for a heart-stopping moment I thought blond Pete had joined us. A hand took my chin, detaching my face from Mac's dick. At the sight of George's big-jawed handsomeness I hid my disappointment with a pout of my lips, wet and plump with sucking. 'Hello there,' I said. Actually I wasn't too disappointed—he was shirtless and exuded muscular power.

'What's going on?' he said, the silliest question ever, but to be fair most of his attention was on my tits which did rather dominate the confined space.

Mac looked back, his stubbly jaw wet with Suzanne-juice. 'Hey mate, three's a crowd.' He was confident now, not exactly welcoming the newcomer.

'What about the shuttlecock?' George said, a matter of minuscule importance and he knew it.

'Found it—anyway, who cares.' Mac was back at work, his lips tickling my tenderised labia as he spoke.

George didn't take his eyes off us as he stripped out of his Bermuda shorts fast until I had twice as much naked male muscle to deal with, and more than twice as much erect cock— George had maybe an inch over Mac. I felt quite breathless.

George was quick for a big chap, getting down and nudging Mac to give himself more space directly before the wide letter V of my upraised thighs. Mac glared at him but looked resigned to sharing me. Yeah, it was pretty damned hot with them walling me in, my tits sticking up ripe and rounded between their taut abs, their dicks just a turn of the head away on each side, in licking distance when I pushed up with one elbow or the other. But soon I stopped, lay back and let the boys make the running. I wished blond Pete was one of them but never mind.

They were shoulder to shoulder. George had got his powerful arms around my doubled-up right leg and pulled in till my heel was pressing into my arse cheek. Mac did the same with my left. They hugged and rocked and I enjoyed the sensation of unshaven jaws, nibbling teeth and wet tongues on the baby-soft skin of my inner thighs, gradually forced wider as they made their descent.

I had high hopes of two heads being better than one and I was as keen as the boys were for an exquisite conjunction of pussy and tongues. And God how they tried, but their shoulders were too big and there was only room for one head though they tilted their faces this way and that and stuck their tongues out as far as they'd go. It was only when one guy or the other gave way that I got to feel a warm wet pressure that made me sigh. God, could lovely Pete improve on this? In my mind he tried, and superimposed over the two boys he was succeeding till I shoved him away and concentrated on bodies not a fantasy.

I had mixed feelings about George gradually using his bulk to shift Mac completely to one side. Mac looked pissed off but he'd had a good solo go with me and I wanted to feel what George could do by himself.

And this was a good start. He lay at an angle across me, his brawny arms encircling my lower quarters. When his head dipped real low I clasped it between my thighs. His tongue flickered rapidly from side to side across my pussy lips with a delicacy I wasn't expecting from such a big beast. I sighed contentedly. After a moment I pushed up on one side for another cork-screwy sixty-nine and rubbed my boobs against the ridges of his stomach while my mouth perfectly enclosed his extravagantly flaring purple head and my tongue-tip dabbed at a dewdrop of pre-cum.

Did he

like

that—and so did I. He rumbled deep in his big chest. While we held that position I nearly missed noticing Mac slinking around us to scrunch himself in the limited space at the foot of the tent.

I detached myself from George's awesome stiffy and flopped back. I watched Mac hunker down, his face hovering over my quim. George squirmed back out of the way as Mac pushed at the backs of my knees, raising my arse up off the sheet till I was folded right over, the backs of my thighs and pussy facing skywards, my feet over my head. Mac worked his kneeling legs under me, splaying his hairy thighs almost under my upper back, supporting me. He crooked his back, dipped his face and I felt his thumbs pry me apart and then his tongue was thick and warm inside.

'Oh Go-d,' I gasped. I looked up the slope of my body and our eyes met as his warm pliant tongue scooped and stretched inside me. He kept that going for two or three minutes as I sighed and murmured.

'Aw, keep going,' I protested when he stopped.

'This is a real man-eater,' he said, taking a break and working his jaw. Can be a tough business, giving oral. I know that myself—when the shoe's on the other foot, so to speak.

'You got that right,' I said, looking at him meaningfully. If eating me out was too much like hard work I was quite prepared to accept more solid fare. 'Let me eat you up, babe,' I said, and I thought I was in for the main course when he straightened his back as if about to get out from under me. But his bent legs remained under my back while George got across me, hooking the backs of my thighs under his armpits. Okay, maybe your actual fucking could wait a while longer. I felt George's hot breath first, then his tongue dipped deep till his lips were in place, making me airtight. I dug my fingers into his scalp to keep him where he was. After blissful minutes of my lower quarters kept aloft by my two lovers while George did the business, I heard a car. I reached back and parted the door flaps an inch or so.

'Fantastic,' I said and George grunted, thinking he was excelling more than Mac had in pleasuring me. He actually was but it was Pete who got my heart leaping.

There he was, the blond God, prising off his walking boots by the big frame tent. I was almost tempted to call out across the field for him to come and join us but I sensed I'd have to play things cooler with him. In the meantime I could have more fun with these two and too bad if they later boasted of their little adventure and Pete didn't approve. Somehow he looked too cool not to.

I sucked the first and second fingers of one hand and for a moment the golden boy was face-fucking me. I simmered down and chastised myself. I'd have him soon enough—I didn't need to anticipate the thrills I knew he'd give me.

I tried to forget Pete and the boys helped with a particularly determined double assault. They were virtually face to face over my elevated pussy, George's tongue pummelling my clit, Mac's slurping down the rest and overland to my other hole and back. And with their fingers and thumbs pressing, prodding and caressing my arse and thighs I soon flew over the edge. Beginning in my clit, a dense deep ache of pleasure filled my cunt and worked outwards. I gave in to it, squeezing my tits together, thrashing my head from side to side till damp strands of hair caged my face, all the while letting loose a torrent of loud and filthy language that was surely heard across the camping field. The boys weren't exactly silent either. They had to grip me hard but couldn't stop my whole body bucking as the electric bolts of pleasure continued to criss-cross me from pelvis to ribs. It's a miracle their rock-hard dicks didn't splash in sympathy though George's looked about ready to. They let go of me, Mac drew back and my arse fell heavily back down to the sheet.

I half expected the noise we made to have attracted people from neighbouring tents, maybe concerned for our welfare. Nothing doing on that score. No Pete investigating either. I was wondering if he'd be shocked or up for joining the party when Mac gave me something else to think about.

He worked his hairy thighs to each side of me till his dick was pressing lengthwise into the damp slot of my expertly prepared pussy lips. I was well ready for the real deal, a real cock after days of famine, not Pete's phantom one. I stared up at Mac's torso, widening out to his shoulders and gleaming with sweat. He picked up my feet and lifted them high and wide, then with little alternate motions of his kneeling legs he got his cock-head an inch inside me.

'More of that, please,' I said in a hoarse whisper. And I got a couple more inches, my cunt expanding deliciously. Pete, go fuck yourself, I thought. Mac let go my feet and fell forward, planting his palms at each side of me, his biceps and pecs bulging with the effort. With another surge my pink slippery chasm was brimful of cock with a pair of big healthy nuts hanging out where I split wide.