Little Festival Slut

Hello, my names Jemma. I'm a 5'7 curvaceous brunette with long hair and blue eyes.

When I was eighteen, I attended a summer dance festival with a small group of friends. I was big into trance music back then. I was into wearing all the clubbing attire and waving glow sticks around too.

On the second night of the weekend long event, I was wearing a zebra print mini bodycon skirt and a matching bikini top, dancing without a care in the world, until I kept on accidentally bumping into a guy behind me.

I turned around and apologised to him, he looked to be late twenties, he laughed and said it was ok. We were all crammed up together under the huge dance canopy, it was practically impossible not to bump into people.

I must have apologised to the poor guy about five times in twenty minutes before I gave up. He'd just have to put up with me or dance somewhere else, I thought.

I was dancing under the influence of chemicals, feeling the music, arms in the air, eyes closing to become entranced by the euphoric melodies.

I don't know when he put his hands on me, but at some point, I felt him smoothing them up and down the sides of my body. I leaned back and pressed my tight bum against his crotch, letting him know I didn't mind what he was doing.

I wasn't exactly compos mentis to realise what signals I was sending this guy. I was simply enjoying myself and moving with the music.

His hands travelled higher and slipped onto my large breasts, giving them a tactile grope before slipping his hands over my tummy, pulling me backwards and grinding his crotch into my arse.

I became very aware what he was doing, but I had also become aroused, and he sensed it, which is probably why he reached down and slipped his hands up my skirt to grope my buttocks.

I laughed at his forwardness and wiggled my bum at him, while my friends and everybody else carried on dancing. He then slipped a hand around my waist and down between my legs, rubbing my mound through my knickers.

I gasped and moaned, but it was electric, so I spread my legs a little further to give him easier access. I didn't want to turn around and face him, confront him. I'd forgotten what he looked like, and I was more interested in how he was making me feel.

Another trance song broke down, stripping away the beat, everyone focussing on the latest melody, while me and the stranger focussed on what was happening between my legs.

He dug his fingers into my sex, dragging them up to the waistband of my knickers and then inside them, pushing his fingers down over my shaven pubic mound and onto my wet pussy lips.

I fell backwards into him, eyes closed, swaying my hips, letting him rub my clit and finger my slit. The rougher he became the more turned on I became.

"I'm camping on site, do you wanna take a break inside my tent?" he hummed into my ear, rubbing my pussy into a frenzy while his other hand slipped inside my bikini top, taking out my left breast and squeezing it.

I nodded and gasped "yes" without being able to think past the present moment. He put my breast away and dragged me out of the dance tent. Night had fallen on the festival, and I suddenly became disorientated.

"What's your name? I'm Chad," he said.

"Jemma with a J," I replied, as my eyes adjusted.

I could see him properly for the first time. Chad was tall and toned with tattoos on each arm. He had a shaven head, and he was wearing denim shorts with a t-shirt hanging from his waist, tucked into the shorts.

"You're hot as fuck," he grinned at my tits then kissed me outside the dance tent.

I accepted the kiss, and we started exploring each others mouths passionately, while his hands went under my skirt and cupped my arse again.

"Come on, Jemma with a J, my tent isn't far from here," he smirked.

I told him to slow down but he was in a rush to get me into his tent, not letting go of my hand until we finally found it and he told me to get in. I looked around, trying to find my bearings, but I was lost with only this Chad guy to guide me.

There were people close by, standing around other tents, drinking and smoking with music blaring, but I was mightily relieved to find Chad's tent was vacant. It was pitch black as I crawled inside on my hands and knees, my boobs almost falling out my bikini top and my short skirt rising up.

I felt the softness of a couple of sleeping bags then turned over to sit down, partly scared and partly excited, as Chad came in and zipped the tent up. "I can't see a thing," I laughed nervously.

"We don't need to see," he breathed heavily, yanking my bikini top down and then roughly pulling my skirt up and my knickers down my legs.

"Wait... do you have any protection?" I gasped, listening to him unzipping his shorts and pulling them down, he was breathing heavily.

"Are you on the pill?" he asked, moving urgently between my legs.

"Yeah, but... uhhhhh!" I cried as Chad leaned on top of me and pushed hard. "Uhhhhh! Fuck!" I cried out again. He was suddenly deep inside me.

"Ohhh, fuck your tight, Jemma!" he gasped, thrusting hard and deep with quite a big cock, I thought.

I began to pant and moan, the people outside cheered and laughed at us as Chad became aggressive, mauling my breasts and fucking me harder inside his tent.

I switched off to the noise and comments outside and wrapped my legs around his body. I became very wet, very quickly, taking Chad's cock a bit easier the longer he fucked me.

"Your tits are huge!" he said, slowing down his thrusts to suck and chew on my nipples.

I realised I was under the control of a very horny raver, with a desperate need to empty his balls, but I was into it now, equally desperate to orgasm. "Fuck me," I panted.

"Mmm, my horny little festival slut! Bend over. I'm gonna break you in half," he groaned.

I took it as heightened sex talk, until I was on all fours, and he rammed his cock into me again. I grunted in pain as he pulled my hair and began to pound me from behind, calling me his little festival slut again and again.

"Oh, yeah, take my cock deep, tight slut! Ohhhh! Fuck!"

Chad pulled harder on my hair, bouncing his groin off my arse with each hard thrust. My breasts swung violently, scraping along the sleeping bag beneath me, but I was loving it now, close to orgasm.

"Fuck me! Make me cum! Uhhh!" I cried out, unable to keep the decibels down.

Chad was wild, his aggression increasing the closer he got to his orgasm. "Ahh! Fuck! I'm gonna fill you up with so much cum! Ahh!"

"Yes! Do it!" I screamed, then suddenly I heard chanting outside.

"Fuck her! Fuck her! Fuck her!" Guys were laughing and girls were giggling.

With my hands on the tent floor, slipping, arms fully stretched, and my head pulled right back by my hair, taking a hard shafting from Chad, I closed my eyes and bit down on my lip.

"I'm getting close! Ahhh!" he hissed, slapping my arse.

So am I, I was thinking, pushing back to meet his thrusts. My pussy was slick and sore, but I needed that big O more than ever, then he gave it to me. Through the power of his strokes, Chad sent my body into spasms and my pussy convulsed violently around his cock.

"Ahh, take it my little festival slut! You hot bitch! Ahhh!" he grunted, becoming impossibly more aggressive as he pumped me full of sperm.

I'd never felt so wet before, when he pulled out and his cum dripped from between my legs. My pussy was drenched and swollen, battered, I needed a new vagina by the time Chad finished with it.

He pulled his shorts up and put his t-shirt on before going outside for a cigarette, leaving me inside to fix my bikini top and skirt. I patted around hopelessly in the dark for my knickers but gave up trying to find them. The air inside the tent was so hot and sticky I needed to breathe more than find my underwear.

I crawled out with his cum running down my thighs, ignoring those close by who delighted in my shameful debauchery. I clambered to my feet, feeling used and very alone.

"Can you take me back to the trance tent," I asked Chad meekly, needing my friends.

"Yeah, of course, are you ok?" he put an arm around me and started walking us away from the sniggering crowd.

"I'm ok," I replied.

"That was awesome, Jemma, thanks."

I nodded, stumbling on weak legs as Chad walked me safely back to where we met.

He then disappeared as if he'd never been there at all. I felt his arm slip away as he said goodbye and told me to stay safe.

"Jemma!" One of my friends came running up to me with a glow stick in each hand. "Where the fuck have you been? Come on, the main DJ is about to come on!"

Back where I started, I mingled into the crowd with my friends and no knickers, taking a while to get back into as I became conscious of every guy who came near or bumped into me.

It was an unforgettable festival for many reasons, largely in part because of what I did with Chad, or rather, what Chad did to me. I was lucky he didn't take me back to a tent with several guys waiting for us, but when I relive the experience in my thoughts, I imagine there were several guys.

The vision of me crawling inside that tent, heart pounding, to find a couple of guys instead of empty sleeping bags, sends shivers of fear and excitement up my spine, and it triggers tingles in my clit and nipples that I can't ignore.

I'm in my thirties at the time of writing this, long gone are the days of being a little festival slut. I wonder how Chad remembers it, or even if he remembers me at all.