Stealth Camping
A brother and sister try out a You Tube phenomena with an erotic twist of their own.
I was looking over YouTube videos and discovered a bunch of channels about stealth camping.
"What the fuck is stealth camping," I thought to myself.
After examining a bunch of them I found that, as near as I could figure out, it's camping in a spot you aren't supposed to, a place you might get caught. Like camping in the wooded area next to an overpass or the wooded area on a golf course or the wooded area next to a police station. Yeah, each of those were examples of videos I saw.
Well, I thought that was the stupidest thing I could think of. Why the fuck would anyone want to do that? That seemed to me to be about the most useless and dumbest thing anyone could think of to do.
So, that's why, in my junior college mindset, I had to give it a try. My full ride scholarship in wrestling eliminated my need to get a summer job and I was getting a little bored.
I knew just the right place to do it. There is a roundabout that I pass through to get to and from college, just a few miles from here. Since I had to drive around it to the third exit, as my Waze would tell me, I got a good view of the whole thing. There was a chest high hedge all around that was pretty dense, dense enough you couldn't see through it anyway. There were also some kind of low growing bushes or trees that arched over the top. Most important there is a small opening in the hedge, like one of the hedge plants died or was severely pruned. Whatever it was, it looked large enough for me to squeeze through. The roundabout was out of the way, no houses around it, sandwiched between two commercial areas. I usually drove through it at rush hour and the traffic always seemed pretty sparse even at that time of day.
"Shit a piece of cake," I said, out loud.
It was the morning of the Fourth of July and my parents had a big bash planned. Dad loved to grill, and Mom, I think, liked the reprieve from cooking. The biggest problem was it was hot. Now, I don't mean it was uncomfortably hot. I mean it was bakeoven hot. When I opened the sliding door to the deck, the air felt like the time I accidently opened the oven when Mom was baking. Plus, the humidity was so high it felt like you were trying to breathe underwater. The weather man said it would be one of the hottest weeks on record. Yay, global warming.
I was instantly bathed in sweat. All I had on were gym shorts and a t-shirt and the t-shirt came off immediately.
"Wish I could do that you lucky bastard," growled my older sister Peggy, rivulets of sweat running down her cheeks.
"The patriarchy wins again," I shouted back, teasing her. "So Peg, what are you doing?" I asked.
"Mom wanted me to set out some chairs and get the back yard ready. I've only been doing it for a few minutes and I am soaked through," she complained.
She was too. Peg's white cotton tank top was soaked through her bra showing prominently through it. Beads of sweat ran down her face, a steady drip, drip, drip, off her chin. Even her signature ponytail, which I had dedicated my entire middle school life to pulling, at every opportunity, was soaked.
"Ah, let me give you a hand," I offered and set about helping.
We had the backyard ready in no time although the heat made it feel like we had walked across Death Valley. The heat, sun and humidity were relentless. As we worked we chatted about the job she had gotten last year, right out of college, her new apartment and new roommate Laura but strangely enough not much about her asshole fiancé Charles. If I didn't know better she seemed more than just reluctant to talk about him, strange.
Charles was some guy she met in college. He had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth and was the type that never let you forget it. The only time I even remotely liked him was when he let me take his Corvette for a spin, sweet. I figured someday, when I could afford one, I would get one too, like when I'm fifty or sixty.
Just as we were finishing up our task, Peg asked, "So, what are you up to?"
"It's hot and I gotta show you something on my tablet. Let's go inside," I said.
Peg didn't argue with that and the A/C was like getting hit with the North Wind, nice. I got out my tablet and was soon showing her the stealth camping videos.
"That is the dumbest shit I have ever seen," she said, shaking her head. "What the fuck is the purpose? Why would anyone want to do it? You're not thinking of doing this are you?" she asked, her fists on each hip, a perfect replica of Mom.
"Yeah," I said. "I know just the right place too," I said, eagerly.
She scratched her forehead and shook her head. This was just like what Mom would do when she was about to ask me why I was doing something so dumb.
Peg then said, "Why would you do something that dumb?"
I stared at her thinking, "Fuck, I can never win."
"Where the fuck is this great place?" she spit out.
So, I told her. Peg knew the location well and my reasoning seemed to hit a chord with her.
"Yeah, I know the hedges are thick there. A cat once ran out from it and I almost hit it with my car," she said. "How long would you camp?" she asked.
Hey, things might be looking up. Maybe she wouldn't rat me out to Mom after all.
"Just overnight," I replied.
"Ok, so I'm going with you," she announced.
"The fuck you are," I challenged.
"I go or Mom knows," she said, with the same attitude and with the same inflections she always used to get her way, when she knew I was doing or going to do something questionable.
"Bitch," I growled, defeated.
Now did I mention that I have a kindergartener's skill level in planning?
"So, what are you going to sleep on?" Peg asked.
I hadn't even thought about that.
"On the ground," I snapped back.
"What? The ground is all covered with mulch and broken branches and leaves and all sorts of shit, which may include some kind of actual wild animal shit. You are going to need some kind of ground cloth to sleep on so you don't get splinters, stupid," she retorted.
She was right and I figured we wouldn't need any sleeping bags as hot as it was. Racking my brain I said, "Dad has that small canvas painter's drop cloth that he bought and was too small. I think it's like five feet by seven feet. That would be plenty big enough to sleep on and it's new, still in the bag."
"Yeah, that would work," she said, almost agreeably.
"What were you planning to eat?" she continued, grilling me.
Again, I hadn't thought about it, "I guess I was going to pick up a burger and fries at one of the fast food joints."
"How the hell do you guys put that poison in your bodies," she scolded. "For fucks sake, you are a star athlete. How can you eat like that?" she again scolded. "Oh fuck it, I'll get the food," she finished.
