Camping 12

Josh and I love camping. We had been teenage sweethearts and soon after we got engaged, when we were both nineteen, we began an annual vacation camping at a rather isolated spot along the river. It became a sort of ritual that we carried on after we got married, which is six years ago now.

When we first started we had a two-man, or should I say “two person”? tent, but over the years we have got more sophisticated. We now have a much larger tent with gas cooking equipment and lighting, and a canvas enclosed portable toilet.

We never tire of this vacation as it seems to provide us with all we need; fishing, swimming, beautiful surroundings, tranquillity and the occasional sighting of native wild life. The other thing it gives us as an ambience of romance.

Josh and I have been making love for eight years and the romance has not gone out of our relationship, but our river camp seems to enhance our desire for sexual contact.

Well before our camping holiday of two years ago I had gone off the contraceptive pill. We had decided the time had come to start a family. Josh, half jokingly, had said, “Well, if you don’t get pregnant while we’re camping, you never will.” This of course referring to the number of times we copulated while camping.

Josh is a school teacher and having made all the arrangements for our vacation, damn me if the education system didn’t come up with an idea to spoil our trip.

Slap in the middle of the time we were to be away, and the middle of the school summer vacation, they came up with a three day teacher training course or some such thing. When Josh protested he was told it was compulsory and we would have to change the dates of our trip. That mucked everything up because my work would not allow us to choose another time convenient to both of us.

At first we thought we would have to cancel out completely, but then Josh said, “Sarah, why don’t we go anyway, and we can come back for the three days, and when the course is finished we can go back again. We can leave the campsite all set up because nobody is ever around, and even if the odd boat does go past, they’re not going to know if anyone’s there or not, or stop to find out.”

It was a confounded nuisance, but rather than not have the time together at all, we settled for Josh’s idea.

On D-day, our car and trailer loaded, we headed for our camping vacation. We arrived at our destination and set up camp. For the next five days we fished, swam, walked and made love, but not necessarily in that order.

The day before we were due to return to the city for Josh’s course, he said to me, “Look Sarah, why don’t you stay here? Its only three days and I can be back on the fourth day. It seems hardly worth your while trekking all the way home with me.

At first I wasn’t too sure about the idea. I love the place, but I thought it might be a bit scary on my own. I mean, when you hear some creature scrabbling about near the tent in the middle of the night, its okay if you’ve got a nice big man to cuddle up to...but on my own! On the other hand, I thought about my liberated female views, and decided I’d be brave.

“Okay,” I said, “I’ll stay.” I then made out a list of the things we’d forgotten to bring and which we would have had to do without if Josh hadn’t been going back home.

Next morning Josh left in the car and for a while I busied myself tidying up the camp. When I finished the sun was well up and the day was proving to be, as we say, “stinking hot,” so I decided on a swim.

Josh and I normally used one particular place to go into the water and being reasonably sure of our isolation we always swam in the nude. I suppose I was feeling a little edgy, so on the off chance some boat did come past I hauled out of our kit my two piece bathers that I always brought with us, “just in case they’re needed.”

Having put on the bathers, instead of entering the water at our usual spot I went down stream a little distance, and then broke one of the cardinal rules of swimming in the river. I saw the trunk of a tree that, probably brought down during one of the big floods, had fallen so as to hang out over the water.

“That’d be great to dive from,” I decided, and clambering along it until I was well out over the river, I dived.

Hitting the water I felt a sickening blow on my head, and the world went black. The cardinal rule I had broken was, that you never dive into the river unless you are absolutely sure there are no submerged obstacles, like water logged tree trunks or branches. My head had found such an obstacle and being knocked senseless, I should have drowned.

I began to emerge from the darkness and at first saw a world that seemed to be enshrouded in mist. I was utterly bewildered, not being able to recall what had happened to me or how I got to where I was, wherever it was. I did know that I had a searing headache.

“Feeling a bit better now?” asked a male voice. I looked up, and through the blinding pain of my headache and the still lingering haze, I saw a man’s face looking down at me.

I tried to answer but did not seem to be able to either find the words or, if I could have found them, articulate them.

“It’s okay,” the voice went on, “Don’t try to speak yet. If you can swallow these it might help a bit.” A hand appeared before my face that held a couple of white tablets.

“Just open you mouth.”

I think it might have already been open. I felt the tablets placed on my tongue and an arm raise my head.

“Drink this and swallow.”

I obeyed and the tablets went down.

Nothing more was said or done for a while as I lay down trying to focus. The headache, whilst not going away completely, did begin to take on bearable proportions and my vision started to clear so I could begin to take in my surroundings.

Kneeling beside me I saw a young man, probably in his early twenties, and several metres away I could see three other young men who seemed to be preparing a meal over a fire.

“You’re going to have a nasty bruise on your head,” the kneeling young man said.

“What happened?” I managed to ask.

“We were coming down stream in our canoes and we saw you go out along the fallen tree, then you dived, and didn’t come up at first, then you sort of floated up but face down. We paddled over as fast as we could and got hold of you. We couldn’t haul you into a canoe because it might have overbalanced, but I managed to turn you face up and we made for the bank towing you.”

“You mean I…I was dead?”

The young man grinned and said, “Not quite, but you very soon would have been if we hadn’t been handy. We got you on to the bank and I pumped some water out of you.” He grinned again, “I didn’t have to give you the kiss of life. If you can sit up, the boys are making some tea and it’ll help you feel better.”

I tried to struggle up, and he put an arm under my shoulder and helped me.

As soon as I was sitting up the world suddenly started to spin and it took a couple of minutes to settle down again.

“I’ll get the tea,” he said, and went over to the others by the fire.

I took a groggy look around and saw two canoes pulled up on a sand bar. It is not uncommon for canoeists to start as close to the source of the river as possible, and then come down stream for hundreds of kilometres to the mouth of the river. I assumed, correctly as I later found out, that this was what these men were doing.

The young man came back with the tea. It was black and on tasting it I found it had been well laced with sugar. I took the mug and as I drank the man put the blanket that had covered me round my shoulders. I was grateful because, despite the heat of the day, I felt shivery.

“My name’s Andrew,” he said, “What’s yours?”

“Sarah,” I replied.

“That’s Dent, Arnold and Bob, over there,” Andrew said, pointing.

I finished the tea and said, “I’d better be getting back to my camp.”

“No you won’t,” Andrew said. “You’re in no fit state to move around yet. We’ll stay here with you for the rest of the day. The boys are heating soup, and if you can eat some of our simple fare, you can have a bit of a sleep afterwards.”

I felt so awful I didn’t even try to argue.

The “simple fare” turned out to be some tinned tomato soup, which was just as well because I don’t think I could have swallowed anything more substantial.

When I finished the other men came over and said “hello.” I couldn’t remember who was who; in fact the only one I can for certain put a name and a face to even now, is Andrew.

A rolled up blanket was put under my head, I was covered up again, and I drifted off to sleep.

I am not sure how long I slept for, but when I awoke it was just after sunset. Two of the men were by the fire, again preparing a meal. In the fading light I could see the other two doing something with the canoes.

I sat up and the now dull ache in my head suddenly sprang into renewed life in the form of a searing pain shooting across my forehead. I think I must have made a sound in response to the pain because one of the men by the fire looked across at me.

He rose and came to me; it was Andrew.

“Feel any better?”

“I’ve still got a hell of a head ache,” I replied.

“I’ll get you something.”

He moved away to return shortly with a couple more tablets and a mug of water. I took the tablets and washed them down with the water.

“I have to get back to the camp,” I said.

“Not on your life,” he replied. “It’ll be dark in the next few minutes and you’d be staggering around in the bush and might injure yourself again.”

He was right, of course, so I asked, “Have you any idea how far we are away from my camp?”

“Not more than a kilometre,” he replied, “but I think you’d better stay the night with us. We’re just getting some food ready. If you can manage it, why not come over to the fire and eat with us.”

He helped me to rise, and I got the giddy feeling again. I suppose I slumped against Andrew. “Hey” he said, and put a supporting arm round me.

“Will you be okay?”

“Yes, it was just a moment of giddiness.”

He helped me over to the fire where there were a couple of sizeable logs, and lowered me to sit on one.

I still only had my bathers on, and was glad of the fire and the blanket that Andrew once more draped round my shoulders; however warm the day in this part of the country, the nights can be very cold.

The other two men came up from the canoes and joined us by the fire. The meal this time was some kind of stew, again out of tins, and not particularly appetising. Never the less I found I was very hungry and was allowed two platefuls.

During the meal questions were asked about my camp…how long I was staying?…Was I alone? I explained about Josh and they told me about their trip down the river.

After the meal my bladder was nearly bursting and my bowls were making their wants known. I stood up and said, “I have to go to the toilet.” There was no portable toilet to use like the one at our camp, but one of the men got up and went to the canoes. He returned shortly carrying a spade.

I knew what that was for because Josh and I had to use that method when we first started to go camping. I went to take the spade, but the man said, “I’ll dig it for you.”

I was handed a roll of toilet paper and with the spade wielder leading we went a little way into the bush. He dug the hole and asked, “Can you refill it yourself?”

I was getting somewhat embarrassed by this assistance since for me what I was about to do is a private function. However, I thanked him and said I could manage the filling in.

He left me and I peeled down the bottoms of my bathers and did what was necessary. For all my embarrassment I thought, “These boys certainly know how to treat a lady in distress.”

After filling in the hole I went down to the edge of the sand bar, keeping as far away from the light of the fire where the men were sitting as I could. Hoping I could not be seen in the dark I washed my nether region and dried myself as best as I could with the toilet paper.

By the time I’d finished I was shivering in the night cold. I went back to the fire and draped the blanket round my shoulders again.

I was wondering about sleeping arrangements when Andrew said, “You’ll need more than one blanket over you tonight. We’ve got a couple more spare ones, so why don’t you lie down again? I’ll bring the other stuff near the fire.”

For all the sleep I had had during the day, I felt dead tired; so when Andrew returned with the blanket I had been lying on and the one forming a pillow, I gratefully lay down.

Andrew covered me with the other blankets. I was ready to drop down into a big black hole, but before I did I remembered I had not even thanked these men.

“Thank you for saving my life,” I said.

“S’all right,” said one of them, and I dropped into the black hole.

I came too briefly in the night to see one of them, I don’t know which, putting more fuel on the fire, then I was gone again.

When I awoke in the morning the sun was already well up and the day growing warm. The fire was only just glowing embers and at first I could hear but not see the men.

Sitting up I saw them in the river, washing them selves and splashing each other and laughing. They were stark naked.

I felt like a wash myself, but hesitated to go to the river with four naked men present. I stayed put until they started to approach the fire, and then made my way to the water’s edge. As I passed them one of them said, “Here,” and tossed me a cake of soap and towel. I noticed with some consternation that all four of them had erections.

The sight of these four stiff male organs sent a little thrill of excitement through me. For the first time it occurred to me that I was a young female alone with four probably potent young men. Suppose they took it into their heads to rape me? No, I decided, they don’t seem the raping type; they’ve been too kind for that.

I did my best to get out of sight and taking off my bathers I immersed myself in the water and began to wash. As I washed my vagina it seemed to start a little bit of clitoral excitation. I thought again of the young men and wondered what it would be like, being raped by them, or even having consenting sex with all four of them.

In my private fantasies I had sometimes pictured myself having sex with several men, one after the other. I had only ever been with Josh, and so like many women with experience of only one man, I did wonder what it would be like with another man. “Now’s your chance to find out,” I thought mischievously, and then pushed the thought away.

Finished, I dried off, put my bathers back on and returned to the fire. I was now very aware of my female self among a group of young males.

The meal consisted of muesli with some long life milk poured sparingly over it.

“Got to go easy on the milk until we reach the next town,” Andrew explained, “We’re running a bit short. How are you feeling now?”

My headache had gone, but touching the top of my head was painful, so I answered, “Fine, apart from a nasty bruise.”

“Let’s have a look,” Andrew said, and coming over to me began to gently part my hair.

“Yes,” he said, “You’ve certainly got a bruise. There’s no sign of a cut, and your head wasn’t bleeding when we picked you up; lucky for you you’ve got thick hair so the bruise won’t notice.”

The touch of his hands sent a shiver of excitement through me. I wondered if his hands were as tender when he made love.

As is often the case when a woman finds herself with a group of virile young men, I suppose I got a bit animated. I questioned them further about their trip and asked rather flirtatiously. “Don’t you guys miss the company of women?”

One of them laughed and said, “We manage as best we can. Besides, we’ve got a woman’s company right now.”

I thought I heard a note of challenge in his voice, and realised we were approaching risky but stimulating territory. It was one of those wonderful moments when a man and a woman feel that sense of sexual challenge pass like a spark between them. They are both aware of the other’s interest, and although most times it never goes beyond that, it is never the less exhilarating.

I have a theory that there is no meeting between a man and a woman when they do not weigh each other up as potential sex partners. The result may be rejection by one or both of them, but however briefly, the thought has been there.

I knew I was now doing my own bit of sexual weighing up, not with one man but four. The memory of their erections as they came out of the water produced a sweet ticking sensation in my clitoris. I pushed into danger land a little further.

“So you do miss the company of women?”

They all laughed this time, and one of the said, “Well, we’re not gay, if that’s what you mean.”

The feeling in my clitoris became more intense. I wondered if those erections I had seen were simply the early morning results of a good night’s sleep…or…or had I inspired them?

I looked around at the men. “Yes, a nice looking clean cut group of guys.” They were clad only in shorts and I could see the healthy glow of their sun tanned skins. My thoughts ran on, “Judging by Josh’s behaviour after we’ve been apart even for a few days, I bet they’re as horny as hell. I’d only have to hint, and…”

One of them cut across my thoughts. “Are you missing your husband much?”

“Well, he’s only been gone for a day and I’ve got today and tomorrow without him,” I said, trying to chuckle not very successfully. “But yes, I always miss him when we’re not together.”

I felt I was well and truly in danger land now. A quiver passed through me that seemed to combine apprehension and desire. I felt my throat go dry and my clitoris was sending alarming signals and I was lubricating.

Part of me wanted to stop this conversation, but something inside me kept crying out, “Go on see how far it can go…see how far you can go.”

“I bet you guys can hardly wait for some feminine company…I mean…you know…real company.” It had come out in a gasping sort of voice as I now felt myself in the familiar state of pre-coital arousal. I knew I definitely wanted and needed sexual contact. At the same time I was being urged by my multiple coupling fantasy; “Go on Sarah, you’ve imagined it often enough, now’s your chance to find out,” said a voice inside me.

They said nothing and just sat looking at me.

I did not know how to pursue this line further, so I stood up and said, “I suppose I’d better get back to my camp.”

“Coward,” said the inner voice.

“I’ll take you up in the canoe,” said Andrew. “It’ll save you struggling through that bush; it’s pretty thick and difficult just here.”

“That’s very kind of you,” I replied through a throat that felt as if it had a big lump in it.

Then that inner voice butted in again; “Are you going to miss an opportunity that may never come again?”

I waded in; “Look, you guys have saved my life. You’ve been very good to me, isn’t there anything I can do for you? Surely there’s something I’ve got that you’d like?”

That was surely as far as any girl could go short of raping a guy. It had the advantage of giving the man, or in this case men, the opportunity to take the final step or let it pass, and neither party had to feel humiliated.

I felt my breathing becoming laboured and knew that this was moving my breasts rapidly and my nipples were standing out long and hard. If anything is a dead giveaway to the male that the female is ready and willing, this was it.

I was now in no doubt that I wanted the experience with them. I was desperate for what I hoped would be a wonderful coupling with four healthy young men.

They had not responded so I risked the possibility of rejection and humiliation and plunged in deeper.

“I’ve got something I’d like to give you guys.” I touched my vagina with my hand.