by Gabi Moore
The next thing I lost was my tent.
This was more of a problem. My friend Elise, her boyfriend Joel and I set off, spirits high and backpacks full of way more stuff than we honestly needed. I had met Elise in my politics lectures. She was a wiry girl, like a compressed spring covered in velvety tanned skin that made you think of holidays. She was idealistic, fond of getting into arguments with our lecturers, and had dusty freckles, hair and eyes all of the same soft caramel brown.
Joel was – well, kind of the opposite. In fact, the deeper we walked into the idyllic Welsh landscape, the more I was struck by how he seemed to be a walking embodiment of the mossy hills we walked over, the ragged rocks cut in two by silvery streams, the morning mists. He had slate coloured, blue-black hair and dreamy, half asleep looking eyes, eyes that seemed always focused on something in the distance. She was all California girl, smooth as a beach ball, while he seemed like he had been born in a grey woolen jumper. He shared none of Elise’s high-strung energy, but he had his own gentle charm, and the two seemed to get on really well.
We spent hours picking our way through the countryside on the first day; conversation disappeared and we all three fell into a comfortable, silent rhythm. It was on the second day, though, when I was walking upfront, that I heard Elise yelling, “Your tent! It’s going to fall!” I felt a weight shift on my back and spun around just in time to see that my rolled up tent had worked free of its straps and had fallen to the ground. Elise made a swipe at it but it bounced once and then proceeded to roll down the steep edge of the path. Quick as a rabbit, Elise bounded after it, but it fell steeply into the brush and she had to stop, tangled in the bushes. She looked back up at me as the tent disappeared.
“Damn it!” I said, reaching down to lift her up. Joel did the same, and our joint efforts hoisted her up to within just a few inches of my face. She smiled broadly. Joel laughed, and started to pick some twigs off her, saying to me, “Christy, you didn’t say what a camping noob you were. Anyway, if you wanted to sleep in our tent with us you could have just asked, no need to throw away your own, yeah?”
He had on a naughty, sideways smile and a twinkle in his eye.
My cheeks flushed and we all laughed, but it was that moment, ladies and gentleman of the jury, that I knew it: I was going to fuck Joel that night. And I was going to fuck his beautiful girlfriend, too.
We eventually set up camp, and whiled away the hours it took for day to turn into dusk, and then into night. I watched Joel build an impressive fire, admiring his skillful, almost meditative calm. Maybe a person didn’t have to be thinking all the time, and maybe there was something sexy about just doing. Elise and I had a loud, ridiculous discussion about the relative pros and cons of being a lesbian. We were playful, somehow more comfortable with each other after our long, silent hike together, taking turns to say things we thought might break Joel out of his fire making focus and get a rise out of him.
“You know, I can totally see the benefits of getting it on with a woman. Really I can. But I don’t think I could ever give up on men entirely, you know? Joel has such an amazing dick. I don’t know if I could ever live without it,” she said, flicking her sandy hair in Joel’s direction.
My face prickled.
Joel stood up slowly, dusted the soot from his hands and stared hard at Elise from out underneath slightly crinkled black eyebrows. He glanced briefly at me. “You’ll have to forgive this one, Christy,” he said in a laughing voice. “She is indeed addicted to my dick, and it appears she’s forgotten her manners.” He plonked himself down next to her, and planted a deep, slow kiss on her open and waiting mouth.
I was taken aback. But it all felt so right. The clean air, the elemental landscape quiet and primordial all around us, a strong man building a strong fire and beautiful, perky Elise, giggling at my lame jokes. All the sweaty walking and climbing had lead us to this perfect moment.
“Yes! I’m a dick addict,” she said, kissing him all over in return. “It’s true. The government should look into setting up safe injection sites for me in town so I don’t ever have to relapse.”
It was properly night now, and the fire was robust. I wanted them both. I moved my chair closer to the fire and made a show of rubbing my hands to warm them. “Well, I don’t know, as lovely as I’m sure your dick is, there’s just some things that only a girl can give another girl, I think.”
I said this sweetly, instinctively feeling Joel’s warm dark eyes moving all over my body. Elise’s face glowed. We were probably the only people around for miles.
“Oh yeah?” He said.
“Definitely. A dick’s nice and all. But can it compare to another girl’s soft lips? Women just have that special touch, you have to admit.” I met his eyes, and, still holding his gaze, I rose and went over to Elise, dropped to my knees and gently took her face in my hands. She stared in wonder at me, her freckled face open and defenseless. Her lips were parted and already wet, and there was something so exquisitely feminine in the way she looked up at me, expecting. I leaned forward and kissed her lower lip, tasting her with the very tip of my tongue. She kissed back greedily, and my fingers fanned out over the back of her head. I pulled back, leaving her lips still wanting, quivering half open, eyes still closed. I looked at Joel, who seemed to be in deep contemplation of all of this.
“See? Now a big rough boy could never kiss a girl quite like that, could he?”
It might have been a few seconds or an eon that passed in that moment, but eventually Joel, who had been sitting in stony silence, allowed something like a flicker of recognition to pass over his face. It was something dark and elemental. Was it a smile? Before I knew it, he was in front of Elise too, who was now seated like some goddess on a chair with two devotees kneeled before her. He kissed her, savagely. It was a challenge, and when she gasped loudly, his hand yanking back her head, I understood the game we were playing. His other hand gripped mercilessly round her wrist, pinning it to her tanned thigh. He took her chin in his hands and kissed her deeply, and as he drew back, he trailed one of his fingers in her open mouth, staring at her like he owned her.
“I think Elise likes big rough boys, though, don’t you?” he said in a dark, almost inaudible voice.
Elise listened closely, almost bewitched. She caught my eye again. Regaining herself, she shook her head back, laughing. “Now don’t fight, guys. There’s only one way to resolve this, fair and square.”
In a moment we were in the tent, the light of the fire outside casting a magical golden haze over everything inside. It was warmer inside, and we were soon all naked, our three bodies creating one unified, glowing mass of warm limbs. Joel was somehow in charge, something almost primitive in his grunts, the way he handled Elise, pinning her this way and that way, kneading her body and sucking each of her small breasts hard while pawing the rest of her with big, rough hands. Elise, on the other hand, seemed to melt. No more was she the plucky, in-your-face girl with opinions she just had to share. No, somehow in Joel’s presence she became a kitten, girlishly purring under his firm touch.
I kiss her, taking my time, enjoying every soft fold of her lips and tongue. She was a gentle kisser, and thorough. Out the corner of my eye I see Joel’s hand working rhythmically between her legs. I find myself amazingly turned on by her scent, which seems to rapidly fill the tent, and when Joel lifts one glistening hand to stroke her belly, I see just how turned on and wet she really is. She’s writhing between the both of us now, me kissing her slowly and sweetly on one end, Joel slipping his fingers roughly back into her wet slit, his other hand on his own cock. It was that evening in the tent that I uncovered the existence of unusually thick, heavy cocks – and Joel’s was the perfect specimen.
We paused at some point, briefly kissing one another before looking down at Elise again, deciding how to divide her lovely body up between us.
“My turn,” he said, moving to her lips and kissing her. Her legs were splayed, slick pussy lips opened, inviting me closer.
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br /> I had never done this to a girl before. I knelt down between her legs and pushed her legs further apart. I was intoxicated by her scent, barely noticing how dripping wet I myself had become. I was fascinated to discover a sparse patch of blonde hair above soft pink folds that seemed instantly familiar. I gently parted her lips, and began sucking on her clit, which seemed to pulsate in response. Her entire body throbbed and bucked, even the tiniest blonde hairs on her abdomen prickling with ecstasy, despite the rising temperature in the tent. She was beautiful. And I wanted more than anything to make her come.
In my mouth.
Her legs had closed softly around my head and were drawing me in; she rocked her hips gently, riding against my lips and tongue, wetness streaming down over her thighs and ass. She seemed to swell and open the more I sucked and licked.
Joel now had the full length of his cock in her throat, and she murmured quietly, hands on the small of his back, pulling him further in. Flicking my tongue over her clit made her murmur loudly and arch her back. She closed her lips more tightly around him, and he let his head drop back in bliss, his eyes closed. I licked again, she moaned, Joel moaned. We were all connected through one long, delicious thread of pleasure.
My pussy was aching badly by now, and the thought that I was pleasuring both her and him at the same time nearly made me explode right there.
“Hmm, she likes that,” he said to me, his black eyes mysteriously making me feel even more naked than I already was. “But it looks like you need some help. Look, this is how you make her come.”
His fat cock slipped out of her mouth and he moved over to my side, hoisting her by both of her legs. She squealed in delight. He thrust into her easily, her pussy already desperately wet. They had an easy familiarity with each other …he’d probably fucked her millions of times, I thought. In that moment, Joel kneeling tall and strong over Elise, whimpering and pliant, and the light so warm and yellow, and me mesmerized by the sight of Joel’s cock easily and happily swallowed by her little pink lips.
I must have been staring dumbfounded, lips still wet.
“Well, don’t just stand there” he said.
I leaned in and kissed him. Oh, he certainly was a big rough boy, all right. His kiss was forceful, confident. He seemed to be savoring the taste of her on my lips. He pushed my head down towards her again. “Keep going,” he mumbled. And so I did. I gently planted my lips again on her tender clit, while he began to thrust firmly in and out of her. All the tension from her lower body seemed to pool up in one spot as she clenched tightly, then released, a wave of pleasure forcing her lips open into the sweetest, most vulnerable shuddering cry. I heard Joel mumble his approval.
He fucked her, and I kissed her beautiful clit while he did. I saw his cock jump a little and he paused, closing his eyes and breathing hard. He was close to coming. He entered her again, this time fucking her roughly, so hard that I could only draw back and watch as she tossed her head back and screamed, clutching at both of us and jerking with each wave of her orgasm. I leaned in again and immediately took his cock in my mouth, sensing that he was going to follow her soon. He orgasmed with just a husky groan, but I felt the full force of a load of his cum burst into the back of my throat, his dick pumping and pulsing on my curled tongue. I swallowed it all down, sucking out every last drop, feeling his body loosen and relax. I couldn’t tell where the sharp, creamy taste of his cum ended and the salted-honey sweetness of his girlfriend’s beautiful pussy began.
To my surprise, just the thought of this sent me over the edge, and I found myself coming all at once, the ache releasing into full, easy waves of pleasure. My entire body shook. I almost laughed out loud. Shuddering, I opened my eyes to find Joel holding me on one side, and Elise the other. We held each other like that for a while, slick with heat and sweat.
Elise was completely spent, but she was the first to break our reverie. “So I’m glad you lost your stupid tent after all, Christy.”
I beamed. So was I.
“I knew she was up to something,” Joel said, tracing his fingers round the curve of my bellybutton. “Honestly, when I saw that ridiculous pair of knickers she was wearing. I mean, who wears black lace panties on a camping trip?”
I laughed. He had a point.
“So, who’s better, boy or girl?” I asked Elise playfully. She teased and twirled a lock of her hair in her fingers. “Oh jeez, I really couldn’t say. I’m pretty sure Joel cheated anyways, so it’s hard to decide. I think we’ll need a rematch.”
I fell in love with both of them, I think, sometime during that trip. That blissful moment after our first fuck might have been the exact time it happened, although it could have also been the next night …or the night after that. On that trip I discovered my love for eating pussy, for moody, husky boys and for the taste of cum. I discovered the beautiful Welsh countryside and two new friends. But, you know, I lost my boyfriend. And a tent.
And I never saw that damn pair of lacy knickers again, either.
Exhibit C: The Ugly White Satin Ones
The first thing I’ll say about this particular pair of knickers is that I wasn’t at all sad to see them go.
By the time I was finishing up my third year at university, I became aware my nerdy image had somehow transformed into a sexy nerdy image. Truth be told I wasn’t exactly sure how it happened, it just seemed that one day heavy black glasses and boots with dresses were edgy, rather than awkward and unintentional …which they were when I last checked. I rolled with it. If I was going to be hot by accident, why not?
My over-the-top lingerie collection grew steadily and quietly, but this specific pair of satiny white briefs was a case in point: I very often had no idea what the hell I was doing or how to go about being “sexy.” I had seen them on sale, hideous things with a fat glossy bow at the back, and bought them, thinking they would make a sophisticated addition to my stash. Once I got home, though, and tried them on, I realized all the quilting and fuss on the front made my crotch look something like my granny might embroider on a Christmas cushion. I was disgusted, and sent them to the very back of the drawer.
But of course, by now I was getting used to the fact that sometimes, the most well-hidden secrets are the first to be exposed, and the things you think least likely to even happen usually do. And then they may even happen a lot.
Enter Liam, a man who turned out to love convincing me to do new things almost as much as I loved doing them. I had had a blissful summer with Joel and Elise, but they had since emigrated to Australia, leaving me with a bunch of overpriced camping equipment and a half-hearted promise that they’d both fuck my brains out if I ever found myself in Melbourne. I was sad to see them go. They were sad too. The camping equipment went up for sale on eBay. I bought a relationship self help book. Life went on.
When Liam and I first met, it was a blustery day. The night before, the wind had started to pick up pretty seriously, so I ran outside and quickly picked off the laundry I had hung up to dry, in case it decided to rain. I was stuffing it all into a wicker basket when I heard my phone ring. I rushed inside and forgot all about the washing. In the morning, I woke to find the wicker basket suspended in a tree, all of my clothes missing, except for one sock strewn on the patio. It was like the scene of a crime. The wind had come in the night, and made off with my laundry. Peaking into my neighbour’s garden, my suspicions were confirmed: a pair of pink pajamas lay like a dead body on his lawn. How embarrassing.
That same morning, I went around knocking on the doors of everyone in the complex to rescue my wind-stolen washing. People laughed and good-naturedly handed over an old t-shirt, a crumpled dress crusty with leaves, the other sock. I knocked on the last door of the complex, just to be thorough. I had never met the occupant, but when a good-looking guy answered, I realized he must have only recently moved in. I told my sob story about the wind and the flying laundry, like some kind of reverse travelling salesman, and he laughed. He was a good 10 years my senior, stockily built but with qu
ick hands and light, intelligent eyes.
“Actually, I did think it was a bit strange, I found something in my flower box this morning, but …I don’t think it’s yours…?” He ducked back into the house and in a moment he was back, smiling strangely, holding something in his hands between thumb and forefinger, as though too scared to touch it.
Of course. What else were they but the very same hideous, satiny white nightmare knickers I had tried to forget about? How did they even get in the laundry pile anyway?
I turned deep red (probably) and he looked at the pair, limp like the carcass of an old fashioned angel or a strange butterfly that had died in his zinnia bushes. I snatched them from him, laughing nervously. He was obviously amused.
“Oh, so they are yours. I just …they don’t look like …I mean, no offense but they don’t seem like something a girl like you would wear…”
It was his turn to go red.
“I’m sorry, that’s stupid, I have no idea about…” he gestured to the knickers, shrugging.
We stood, staring at each other, the offending knickers hanging limply between us. I heard the wind stirring up again.
“Hey, I’ve actually just moved in here, do you want to …come in for some tea or something?”
In hindsight, this was the first thing Liam tried to convince me of. I laughed, saying, “yes, of course” and truthfully, everything from that moment got the same answer from me.
I went inside.
There was nowhere to sit. He turned his back to me and started to make some tea, his back and shoulder muscles moving visibly under the thin cotton of his shirt. Nervous as hell, I began chattering, staring at the empty space and unpacked boxes strewn everywhere. “So you’re new here? I never really spoke to the lady that lived here before you, although she looked nice. It’s two bedrooms, right? Nice. I don’t have this balcony thing in my place. I mean, I’m kind of offended now that I think about it – what’s wrong with my knickers anyway?”
