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Inside the Tent
While the first story in this collection was entirely true and the second was partly true, this final story, unfortunately, is pure fiction. An imagined resolution, if you want to call it that! I hope you enjoy it.
Maureen had told me that the two of us were going to the forest to check out the facilities and so on. We would be spending a night at the site and she told me that she had a tent and would, of course, borrow another one if I wanted so that we would have a tent each. I quickly said that if her tent was large enough for two I’d be happy with sharing (wouldn’t I just!). I had always loved camping and had spent many summers under canvas in the company of my parents and brother and sister. This time, however, I was to be spending an afternoon and a night with only Maureen for company and that, believe me, was something I was looking forward to.
In the last story I related how Maureen and I both waited and watched for three boys who had broken into the local school to show themselves; how Maureen’s lacy slip made my panties sodden and how we were so close to each other that my hand ended up over her silk-covered fanny. Once again Maureen had made no mention of these events in the days and nights afterwards. It must be noted, however, that we were not alone together at any time so it would have been difficult to say the least. Nevertheless, the experience had created a necessity to relieve my pent-up desires on several occasions late at night.
I mentioned before that in no way did I consider myself a lesbian and I honestly still held that belief. I imagined that I was going through a phrase that so many girls go through at some time or other. In a part-time youth workers’ seminar, which I attended at the instigation of Maureen, I learned that this phrase, for want of a better word, was a perfectly natural part of adolescence but definitely not one to be encouraged by youth workers. When I attended the course, before I had any ‘nice’ feelings about Maureen, I was actually shocked to learn that it was considered natural for a female to sexually desire another female. It goes to show what a sheltered upbringing I’d had. The desire that I had for Maureen, however, I didn’t have for any other member of the female species.
For around a month then I’d had an on-off boyfriend called Frankie. When I say ‘on-off’ I mean he worked on the ferries so he wasn’t always available and sometimes when he was he would be out with his friends, which was alright with me. He was funny and good company but to say that I really fancied him would be stretching the truth a bit. There was another boy, Fergal, in the youth club who I got on great with. He was a champion flirt and I know that he had the hots for me but, though I really liked him, I felt he was too young and I just felt there was something missing. The way I had come to feel in the presence of Maureen I hadn’t felt in the presence of either of them.
“Do you want me to pick you up tomorrow afternoon, Helen?” “No, it’s OK, Maureen,” I said. “I’ll meet you at the club at one.”
“That’s great,” she said.
“What time will we be back on Thursday? It’s just that I have to let my mum know.”
“Well, we should be home by 10 at the latest.”
After we hung up I checked the weather forecast for the following day and, with that information, I selected suitable clothing for wearing and for packing in the overnight bag. I’d decided that my denim miniskirt and sleeveless black top would be just the thing for the journey and most of the day. If the forecast was to be believed it was going to be sunny and warm. I also gave a lot of thought to my underwear and selected a matching cream satin set of bra and panties that were the most expensive set of underwear that I owned.
As I lay in bed that night my thoughts wanted to direct my hand into my pyjama bottoms. The old cotton panties that I usually wore under my pyjamas were very damp but I realised that heavily stained panties might be hard to explain to my mother when she’d put them in the wash. So my attention-seeking slit would have to wait.
At just after one the next afternoon Maureen arrived in her VW Polo. I’d been waiting for about twenty minutes but I told her I’d just got there. She looked relaxed and very pretty in a summery dress, pale lavender with small casino şirketleri white dots. Her legs were bare and she wore sandals. She also smelled of fragrant soap.
“All ready?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “Just the one bag.”
She lifted the tailgate of the Polo and bent down to make some space for my bag beside the tent and her luggage. The back of her dress rode up a bit as she bent over and I had a quick peek to see if there was a vision of lace and silk or satin underneath. Nothing. But I knew it would be unlike Maureen not to wear a slip under her dress. I just had to be patient.
The camp site was in T Forest, about sixty five miles to the south and the journey took about an hour and twenty minutes. She was a careful driver, always with two hands on the steering wheel unless she was changing gear of course. We talked about the club and about the planned camping trip and who was going and who wasn’t. Now and then I glanced at her legs but there was still no sign of a slip. Then, about two miles from the site, she pulled over at the entrance to a shop.
“We need some tea and other stuff. Are you coming in with me?”
After we had bought tea, milk, biscuits, apples and matches we went back to the car. Maureen had the bag of groceries and she twisted round to place the bag on the back seat. That movement caused her dress to get caught under her left thigh, the one nearer to me, and her slip came into view. My eyes opened wide; awestruck by the sexy sight of a good expanse of thigh and a sheer white silk slip with no more than an inch of lace at the hem. The vision lasted all of three seconds at the most but it was a sight that I have never forgotten. When she turned round again she adjusted her dress and off we went. I felt that little feathery tickle between my legs that demonstrated my arousal.
After we signed in and paid at the campsite office we drove to our designated spot in one corner of the tent area. There were a number of other tents, of different sizes, but I wouldn’t say the field was crowded. We unloaded the two tent and spread it out ready for setting up. She was a good organiser and obviously knew exactly what she was doing; setting out the groundsheet, then the tent and then the pegs for anchoring the tent.
The tent had, for some reason or other, a zipped opening at both ends which was unusual but Maureen explained that the tent had come from West Germany and had belonged to her uncle who once cycled around Europe. The final touch in erecting the tent was fixing the height by adjusting the poles at either end. Maureen was at one end and I was at the other; the zipped flaps were open at both ends. As I was locking my pole height I looked through the tent and almost gasped aloud. Maureen’s legs were splayed as she squatted down and I could see all the way up, inside her dress and white slip, past her bare thighs to her pink lace panties.
“How can this woman not know what she’s doing to me?” I thought, just as Maureen stood up and said she was getting the sleeping bags. I had to close my eyes for a second to compose myself.
During the afternoon we made a trip into the nearest village, about a mile and a half away, to see what shops there were (several) and to check if there was a suitable disco (there wasn’t). We found the village to be accommodating and suitable for young people who were interested in camping but not drinking and so forth. We had lunch during which we chatted about her uncle and the rest of her family and she asked about mine.
We also explored the forest a little and we both changed for that; I wore blue jeans and she wore brown casual trousers. We both wore trainers. The forest was beautiful and we saw rabbits, squirrels, field mice, a heron in the river and a woodpecker. We walked and walked and at one point when we climbed a grassy bank I offered her my hand to pull her up and she held on to it for a while, sliding her fingers in between mine.
But, as so often that summer, the weather changed without warning and within minutes the sky became dark and the raindrops began to fall. We found some shelter under a large overhanging branch and, as the rain began to fall more heavily, we were soon unable to avoid getting wet.
“We’ll have to make a run for it,” sighed Maureen. “I think this is going to last for a while.”
I casino firmaları agreed with her and we left our sheltered spot. Within seconds though we were soaked and we were trying to run as best as possible on the stony path. We could see our tent, through the trees but the path took a long way around. Maureen tugged my arm and pointed through the trees.
“Cut through the trees. It’s shorter,” she breathed hard.
We jogged over the slick grass and began navigating our way though the trees. The tent was clearly in view when I heard Maureen fall and cry out. I turned and saw her holding her ankle. She had slipped on a damp mossy patch of ground.
“My ankle, oh,” she whimpered.
“Here, put your arm around my neck,” I said as I bent over to help her.
I put one arm around her waist and we managed to make it through the trees and back to the tent; albeit totally drenched. Still holding on to her, I bent down and unzipped the flap and we both tumbled inside. I zipped the flap.
Maureen was obviously in some discomfort and we were both dripping. So first things first.
“Get my towel from my bag, would you!” asked Maureen. I got both hers and mine and we dried our hair until the dripping stopped.
“We need to get out of these,” she added a moment later. As she began pulling her tee shirt off she stood on her weak ankle and let out another groan of pain.
“Here, lie down on the sleeping bag and let me help,” I said. I was concerned about her ankle and she must have been too as she complied without further ado.
She had removed her tee to reveal her damp pink bra and stiff-from-the-cold nipples which she then covered with the towel. I unlaced her sodden trainers and removed them and her cotton socks. I saw that her ankle was swollen. Next, I went to her belt buckle but immediately she put her hand over mine to stop me.
“Maureen, I have to get your trousers off. They’re wet through.”
She thought about this then released her hand. “OK,” she nodded. “I feel like an invalid here.”
I undid her buckle then unzipped her. Maureen lay on top of the bag, her arms resting by her side, and watched me as I slowly pulled her trousers off. She winced with the pain in her foot and I did my level best not to stare at her pink panties which she tried to cover with a hand.
“Erm, you’ll need to get your undies off too if they’re wet.” I tried not to look at her when I said that and I hoped my voice didn’t betray me.
She didn’t answer for a moment which made me think I’d gone too far. Then she nodded and said she had a fresh pair in her bag.
“Would you mind?” she asked me.
“Of course I don’t mind,” I managed to smile and went to her bag and found a matching set in pale blue satin.
She took them from me and said, “You need to change too, Helen. You’re still dripping.”
I took off my tee and trainers and jeans and decided that it was only fair that she could see me the way I’d just seen her. She had managed to change her underwear under the towel and I saw her looking at me while I disrobed.
“Oh,” she gasped, “your pants are soaked through. Get changed quickly!”
“Er, problem, these are the only ones I have with me. I thought it was an overnight stay and I didn’t expect to get wet.”
“Oh, what to do, what to do,” she said aloud. The towel had dropped from around her chest and I could see now the lovely satin bra and her hard nipples poking through.
Meanwhile I had removed my bra and was towelling myself. When the towel brushed over my erect nipples the effect was felt between my legs.
“Well, I have a slip that you could wear until your pants dry out, if you want,” she said. “At least it’ll cover you.”
My mouth suddenly went dry and my nipples reacted as though they had ears and just heard what was being offered.
“If you don’t mind,” was about all I could say.
She pointed towards her bag and I went and took it out; the same white one I had seen her wearing earlier. I was in heaven.
That night, after the rain had died away and I had gone over to the canteen (in my miniskirt but without underwear) and purchased fish and chips and two hot coffees for us, we lay on top of the sleeping bags chatting. Maureen was wearing a soft pink nylon nightie which came to just above her knees. güvenilir casino I had again changed into the slip and asked Maureen how many of them she had at home. Eight was the answer and she told me how she always felt undressed without them. While we were laughing at some joke or other she winced.
“Yes, a little.”
“Let me have a look,” I said, as I positioned myself near her feet.
I lifted her foot gently and began to softly massage the ankle. Then I realised I had a jar of Aloe Vera lotion in my bag; something I always used for insect bites and sunburn.
“This’ll help you,” I told her and showed her the jar.
I began to massage the lotion onto her ankle as she lay back. I didn’t want to get any on her beautiful slip so I raised it until her foot was resting on my thighs. I was able to look upon Maureen as she lay there with her eyes closed. To me she was beautiful and very sexy at that moment; the hem of her nightie about four inches above her knees and her nipples pointing upwards through the satin and nylon. Slowly, and almost without thinking, I began to massage her lower calf and around her foot, in between her toes. She shifted her body slightly.
Gently I laid her foot down and began massaging the top of the other one. She stirred.
“You know, I’ve never had a massage.” She said that as she leaned back on her elbows and looked me straight in the eye.
“No? Do you want one?” I don’t honestly know how I managed to speak.
She hesitated. “Maybe just the legs for now. They’re a bit stiff lying here.”
“Just the legs it is.” I still couldn’t believe this was happening.
When she lay back she hoisted her nightie up so it was just covering her panties. I gulped and spread the lotion on my hands. By this stage I was becoming seriously wet down below. Slowly I began running my fingers along her calf muscles; not so light as to be ticklish and not so heavy as to be sore. I did each calf in turn and then did both at the same time as I spread her legs so that I was able to kneel in between. I could see the effect I was having on her as her nipples were erect and her fingers twitched each time I moved up her calves. Then I massaged around her knees, over the bone and behind in the hollow, and she emitted a simple groan.
I knew that my liquid was seeping into the hem of her slip because it felt wet when it touched my ankles. I desperately wanted to orgasm but I didn’t want to break the spell between Maureen and myself at that moment in the tent. Slowly I began to glide my fingers up her thighs, first one and then the other. Her fists were opening and closing now. I pressed my thumbs along the top of the thigh muscle and eased the pressure of my fingers on the outside and inside of her silky-smooth thighs; each time going slightly higher and higher. By the time I got as high as her vee her legs had begun to shake and clench. I could see the satin-covered gusset that was very moist and came to the realisation that this was the effect that I caused; I was spellbound.
Finally I slowly, tantalisingly, moved both my hands up along the insides of her thighs until they pressed up against her wet panties. The result was almost instantaneous; she clenched her legs tightly together, trapping my hands, and her hands went up to her face as she moaned aloud. Then her legs spasmed. I tried to move my fingers which only served to increase her spasms. Throughout all this I could feel the warm liquid oozing from her, soaking both the satin and my fingers.
A minute or two later she stopped and I took my hands away. I lay down beside her; she was still covering her face.
“Was that OK?” I whispered.
She turned and looked into my eyes. Now, when I look back upon that night, I think she passed a boundary in her mind because she brought her lips to mine and we kissed, long and hard. And, while we kissed, her fingers found my nipples and teased them then they found their way down my stomach and into the waistband of the slip. She touched my clitoris and my orgasm broke in convulsive waves. My fingers too were sliding over her slippery panties and pushing the material into her until she cried out and came again and again.
In the morning Maureen explained about her feelings and her sense of duty and desire to help youngsters and I listened and knew what she was saying. She kissed me for the last time and whispered, “Thankyou!”
A month later I left the club for good. I never intended to forget that night in the tent and I have a memento which I still wear today — Maureen’s slip.
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