So camping with a group of 15 others including many minors, sexual shenanigans were always going to be difficult, however we managed to get rid of our own offspring into a different tent and we headed for our sleeping bags under the influence of cider. Balancing on a small inflatable mattress, wedged into a super small sleeping bag, we scrambled under, feeling rather frisky.
Becoming agitated as he spoke filth quietly into my ear, unable to hear due to the wind whipping around my tent, I tried to relax and refrain from shouting “What?!?” of “PARDON?” every time he spoke. The creaking and slowly deflating airbed was a distraction, trying to balance our weight as we pulled various layers of clothing down.
The mucky mutterings continued as we got down to business, trying to keep my normally loud moaning to a minimal volume as the other tents where pitched a few centimetres from mine. Just as I was about to orgasm, the commotion started. Lights went on in the tent next to ours and we could hear loud hysterical crying. We paused and listened, thinking it was one of the other kids in the party. No such luck.
I realised it was one of mine when my tent door started to unzip. Panicking as I pulled down my fleece and dragged my two pairs of joggers and knickers back on, I wriggled towards the tent opening to find my friend with my daughter. She had needed the toilet and couldn’t open my friend’s tent and had accidentally urinated across everyone’s sleeping bags as she frantically tried to escape. I got up, cleaned everything and everyone, calmed her down as she was now hyperventilating and settled her into another friend’s tent.
Tiredly and drunkenly, I stumbled back to my sleeping bag, any ounce of horniness now vanished. But husband was still aroused, so we started from the beginning.
You know when you get to a point where orgasm is imminent and you can no longer hold off, you try one last time to control yourself before you cum? Well that’s when the tent unzipped again…
More scrambling and panic as I tried to cover myself as my eldest daughter popped her head into the tent. It was close to 2am now and she should have been fast asleep. I had probably jinxed the situation when I assured my friends that once my tribe are asleep, they NEVER wake up. But here she was, opening my tent, because she preferred the toilet roll I had taken, rather than what was available in the other tent for her bathroom trip.
Fury was unavoidable at this point and after telling her of my annoyance, I retreated back to husband for a third time. I was cold, uncomfortable and anything but aroused. I threw myself onto the mattress, flinging my weight from side to side, huffing and sighing to warn my husband of my now vile mood. I pulled my black fleece closed right up to my neck and pushed his hand away as he tried to touch me.
Feeling a bit guilty as none of this had been his doing and that even though I was abandoning my orgasm, there was no need to sacrifice his, I gave him a hand-job.
As soon as he came, we both fell asleep.
Next morning, I was dragged out of bed by the tribe (leaving him sleeping) to gather around the campfire, cooking breakfast in my pyjamas.
My friend’s mother asked “What’s that?”
Everyone looked around as I asked “What’s what?”
She points the crowd to a spunk stain, shooting up from my belly to my tits.
I tried to pretend I had no clue what she was yapping about as one of the ADHD kids then started shouting, LOUDLY and bounding over to me, to show everyone else it was all over the cuff on my fleece too.
I flashed “a look” at the adults as it dawned on them what the origin of the brilliant white smear on the black material was.
I wore my husband’s copious amounts of semen to breakfast.