Day three dawned muggy, with thunderous looking clouds dominating the horizon. As time went on, the weather only became more depressing, with a light but permanent drizzle adding a damp sheen to everything. As I peered out of the flap of our tent, it started raining harder, and a chilling wind whipped around my face and neck, causing me to retreat into the stuffy, but warm cocoon we were calling home. A few diehards were tramping through the rapidly forming mud in their wellies and mackintoshes, hair plastered to their brows, rivulets of water pouring from creases in their waterproofs.
I prod your form in the dim light, hissing for you to wake up. You do so, and blink at me sleepily, confused. I point out of the narrow opening, at the grey skies and encroaching mud. You respond with 'so? Come back to bed, it's early. The weather will improve later'.
Sighing, I crawl back into the sleeping bag with you, draping myself over your chest. I had hoped to actually watch some of the show today, as we had missed the previous two day's worth, and it seemed a shame to attend a music festival and not see any music.
'Well, if I have to come back to bed, we're not sleeping', I purr in your ear. Touching my tongue to the tip, I trace around the delicate contours and nip at the lobe, whilst snaking my hands down your body to your already hard cock. You wriggle playfully and nibble at my lower lip, before deepening the kiss, bringing your hands up to cup my face. Rolling me over, you grab my hands and hold them above my head, exclaiming a triumphant 'gotcha!' before lowering your head and blowing a raspberry on my stomach. I giggle and arch my back, bringing my breasts up close to your face. You take your cue and take one of my nipples in your mouth, sucking it gently. I let out a soft sigh and lay back, letting you minister to my needs.
You bring your hand up to my other breast, circling the bud with your thumb, squeezing the flesh between thumb and forefinger. Pushing my breasts together, you lick up the valley between them, and down to my navel, where you pause to grin up at me. I part my legs slightly, inviting you in, and the scent of my arousal pervades the air. You push my legs further apart and move down, letting your breath blow warm onto my skin, until I feel your tongue, probing between my inner lips. I twitch slightly, and moisture seeps out from inside me. You delve deeper, tasting my darkest recesses, swirling your tongue in and around me. Drawing back, you replace your tongue with your forefinger, and place your lips around my clit, pulling gently at the nub. I draw my breath sharply, and arch my back a little.
You start to move your finger in and out, slowly at first, but quickening your pace slightly as you flick your tongue across my most sensitive of organs. My hips start to move of their own accord, begging you to move faster and harder, as my breath comes in ragged gasps. You oblige, pushing into me with more force, until my inner thighs are slick with my own juices, and my eyes start to roll back in my head. Suddenly you change tack, pinching my clit with your finger and thumb, and ram two fingers of your other hand deep inside me. My back arches as I scream, heedless of the thin material that is the only barrier between us and everyone else.
You carry on fingering me, your hand soaked in my juices, as my body trembles and my nails dig into the groundsheet, fists clenched. For what seems like forever, I'm paralysed with pleasure, unable to move even the slightest bit by myself. As my shaking begins to subside, you withdraw your fingers and move up to kiss my brow, smoothing my ruffled hair back.
At that moment, the flap of our tent is pushed aside, and Matt and Laura, the couple we met briefly yesterday, entered. In a somewhat compromising position, I struggled to sit up and cover myself a little, so as not to embarrass our guests. They seem unshakable, as Laura giggles and says 'well, it seems we missed lunch then. How about dessert?'
Slightly taken aback, I stutter a little, and look to you for support, finding none in your equally shocked expression. Looking back at the couple we barely knew, a spark of arousal pinged somewhere deep in my stomach. The woman was very attractive, wearing a short skirt that emphasised her toned legs, and a t-shirt that hugged her slim torso. Greenish-blue eyes peeped out from under a dark brown fringe. Full lips curved in a generous smile. Straight white teeth, the sparkle of a tongue piercing. Matt was also attractive, cargo shorts and t-shirt showed a toned, but not too muscular, body. His eyes were dark brown, and his hair was a lighter brown, almost blonde in colour, short and messy in style. His eyebrow was pierced, and tattoos snaked down his arms. They made a gorgeous couple. And they were in our tent, making no attempt to hide their intentions.
Laura crawled over to me, and sat back on her haunches, a glint in her eye. The same glint that was in mine. Steeling myself, I leaned forward and kissed her, full on the lips. The first time I had properly kissed a woman, outside of drunken dares. It was different, her lips softer, no fuzz of hair on her upper lip. I enjoyed it, tentatively nibbling on her lower lip. She purred deep in her throat and reciprocated. Growing bolder, I placed a hand on her stomach, feeling my way under her top to touch the smooth skin. I felt the tautness of her body, muscles hidden just under the skin tightening at my touch.
I part my lips a little, allowing my tongue to entwine itself with hers, dancing a secret dance known only to us. I move my hand further up, reaching the curve of the underside of her breast. The skin there is even softer, if that is possible, than the rest of her. I cup her breast, feeling the weight, so different to anything I'd experienced before. Then I slide my fingers up, around the edge, and onto her nipple, feeling it harden at my touch, noting a piercing. Laura moans, ever so softly, and my stomach jumps with arousal.
Breaking our kiss for a moment, I pull away to remove her t-shirt, eager to view those beautiful orbs. They are even more perfect than I felt, full and round, pinkish nipples in the dead centre of each. It is to one of those nipples that I attach my mouth, flicking it with the tip of my tongue, and pinching gently with my teeth. Laura purrs appreciatively, and settles on her back.
