Pitching the Tent

My boyfriend and I had arranged to go camping over the weekend. We had the car all packed and were ready to go when the phone call came. It was his boss. There'd been an accident at work and he was required. Now!

He argued, pointing he was about to take off camping. His boss pointed out that they were in an emergency situation and that he was needed. He did make one concession, though. If Jack came in right away and put in a full shift he'd let him have Monday off. Jack conceded that this was fair enough as he could still leave to go to the camp ground first thing in the morning.

I was a little disgruntled about the deal, mainly because it meant we wouldn't be able to grab one of the more secluded camping spots.

"I know," I told him. "I can drive up their tonight and grab a decent spot and pitch the tent. You can bike it up there first thing tomorrow."

Jack considered this and nodded agreement.

"You do know how to pitch the tent properly?" he said.

"Yes," I said coldly. "I have done it before."

"I know. It fell down. That's why I was asking."

"I simply forgot the guy lines," I pointed out. "It could have happened to anyone. I'll remember them this time, I assure you."

He smirked and conceded the point and a short time later I was off, heading towards the camping grounds.

I made it in a timely manner and was able to grab one of the more secluded camping sites. I liked to be able to lounge around my campsite without having to worry about anyone wandering past. Let's just say that when I was alone with Jack I didn't always worry about the degree of skin I was showing.

I pitched the tent without any problems, not forgetting to use the tie lines. I don't get caught by the same mistake twice. Then I set about making myself some dinner and taking a walk around the grounds.

That walk reminded me why I always go camping with Jack. Without him the wolves came crawling out of the woods, smelling fresh meat. Screw that for a joke. I beat them off, although a couple of times I thought I might have to go and get a baseball bat to do the beating. I think it was the number of wolves that stopped any one of them taking real advantage of my solitariness. None of them were willing to leave another alone with me.

Eventually I wandered down to the Ranger's place and asked if I could use their back door. The Ranger running the place just laughed and let me, whereupon I vanished into the woods behind his place and circled around to my campsite, leaving any lovelorn swains lingering out the front of the Ranger's place.

Once it began to get dark I unrolled my sleeping bag inside the tent, stripped down to my undies, and lay down on top of the bag. I was too hot to get in it, but quite comfortable as a bed. If the night got chilly I could always get in. I lay there, listening to the breeze, rather a strong one, I noticed. Certainly strong enough to shake the tent, but those tie lines kept it steady. Score one to me. I fell asleep.

I was dreaming that I was smothering and woke with a scream. And then I screamed again to find that I was smothering. I could hear that the wind outside was really blowing and somehow or other it had blown my tent down.

"Fucking tie lines," I screamed, trying to sort out what was what. I didn't even know where the damn door was so I could unzip and crawl out.

"Are you having problems," a voice asked, not bothering to hide their amusement.

"No," I snarled. "What makes you think that?"

"Ah, the bad language and the collapsed tent?" came the suggesting. "From the look of it some idiot put the spikes in at the wrong angle."

"What do you mean?" asked the idiot in question.

"The spikes should be hammered into the ground at right angles to the direction of the line," was the reply. "These were probably hammered in in the same direction so any pressure on the line just popped the spikes right out of the ground again. This wind is strong enough to do that."

You had to put the spikes in at an angle? Why hadn't anyone told me? This was Jack's fault, and I'd let him know it.

"Let me see if I can find the tent flap. Ah, here it is."

I heard the sound of a zip unzipping.

"Yep, that was the flap, all right, and these I assume are your legs."

A hand was running over my legs and I took a swipe at it, only to find my arms hampered by a lot of tent.

"I do believe that these are your panties," said the voice. "Let's take a closer look."

To my horror I could feel him pulling my panties down and off, leaving me naked from the waist down. For that matter I only had on a light bra on top.

"Yes, those are definitely your panties. Oops. Sorry about that. The wind caught them and they just headed off that away."

"You threw away my panties?" I asked horrified. "You get them back."

And while he was doing that I'd be getting out of this tent.

"No problems. They seem to be caught up in a bush. Before I get them, however. . ."

His 'however' turned out to be him pushing my legs apart and starting to stroke me. I was yelling and carrying on and trying to get myself untangled from the tent, but it didn't take me long to figure out it was all useless. My voice was so muffled by the tent that I doubt that anyone heard it past the campsite, especially with the wind making all that noise.

As for getting untangled from the tent - I knew, I just knew, that he was pinning part of the tent down so that I couldn't move it. I was trapped and there was nothing I could do about it.

He was quite patient with what he was doing, massaging my privates, with his fingers intruding inside me every so often. He seemed to be testing just how well his foreplay was going and when he transferred his attention to my clitoris, well really, all I could do was yell louder.

"That's getting to you, is it?" he asked, all faux sympathy. "Don't worry I know the cure for what ails you."

From the way he was parting my lips I was ready to bet my house (if I owned one) that his cure included a strong injection of cock - his.

It immediately became apparent I was in no danger of losing my mythical house as I could feel him starting to press against me.

As soon as he was positioned to his satisfaction he pushed firmly into me, all the way in with one vigorous lunge. I guess his foreplay had arranged things properly as he slid in with no trouble whatsoever, if you discount the verbal abuse he received.

"I think it's only fair to explain I'm going to set up what I consider a nice pace and just take my time. If you care to hump your hips and move with me, well and good, but if you want to just lie there, still well and good. It's just that if you just lie there then I'll probably take a lot longer to reach the end. Your choice."

Some choice. Lie there like a stuffed doll while he goes ahead stuffing me for god knows how long or move with him and see if I can cut things short. I very reluctantly started moving with him.

I should have known that he'd take that as a complement to his abilities. He complimented me on mine and then started pushing the tent up.

"Let's get this off you," he said as he manoeuvred the tent off me. "And this," he added when he reached my bra. He promptly pushed that higher, letting my breasts spill out.

"Don't go away," he said softly, touching a nipple, and then went back to getting the tent off.

So the tent was off and all I could see was this dark figure lying over me, his cock happily plunging into me while his hands were now playing with my breasts, teasing and tantalising.

"Will you get off me, you rotten pig?" I snapped at him, knowing that he could finally hear me properly.

He laughed. "You've got a fine sense of humour," he assured me. "Would you like to change position for a while? Don't answer right away. Think about it."

Change position? He was obviously crazy. I didn't even want this position.

He kept plugging away, with me lifting and pushing to meet him. I'd be lying if I said he wasn't getting to me, but that didn't mean I appreciated his methods.

He bounced along merrily, with me standing the pace, but my busy little mind was whispering to me. Things like, if he changes position he'll have to pull out while he does so. You can then scream and fight to stop him continuing.

"Okay, we'll change position," I said sweetly. "What do you have in mind?"

"Good girl," he said. "Ah, just lift this leg for a moment." He patted my right leg.

Puzzled, I did so, and his hand slid behind my knee and lifted my leg high. Before I fully understood what he was doing he'd leaned away from me and passed my leg across his front, rolling me over as he did so, all with his cock still all the way inside me. Just like that I was lying face down and he was still inside me.

"Now lift your bottom higher," he said, his hands on my hips and lifting. With that I finished up on all fours, him kneeling behind me, his hands going around me to capture my breasts again, and he was thrusting into me even harder than before.

When I say harder than before I mean he was acting like a runaway rabbit, frantic to finish the first of fifty does he had to service. He was pulling right back and then driving fully in, lifting as he came, and my bottom was going up and down like a yo-yo, with me having no control whatsoever.

Did I insinuate that he was getting to me? Ha! He'd not only got to me but was extracting a response I didn't know I was capable of. I was moaning and wailing, but in a good way, if you know what I mean, urging him to do his worst because I could not only handle it but wanted to.

He finally finished up with a bang. He ejaculated deep inside me and his frantic bucking as he did so was all that was needed to trigger my own climax, and I found myself fighting not to scream my silly head off.

"Right," he said afterwards. "Why don't you just sit right there and don't move while I repatch your tent."

"Ah, my clothes," I mumbled, not really wanting to just sit there naked.

"I'm sure you can find them as soon as I'm gone. Just use a torch and you should have no problems. Ah, you do have a torch, don't you?"

I rather coldly assured him that yes, I had a torch.

"No problem then, is there?"

So I sat and he re-pitched the tent. It was amazing to see how fast it went up. It seemed only a couple of minutes after starting that the tent was complete.

"That was fast," I acknowledged.

"Most of the work was done," he said dismissively. "I only had to reset the poles and fasten the ties and that was it. You'll find that it'll stay up now, despite the wind."

I was so going to check how those spike were put in the ground come the morning. I'd also take full credit for pitching it when Jack turned up. I could hear myself assuring him that there was nothing to it.

He reached down and took my hands and pulled me to my feet. Then he pulled me up against him, his hands on my bottom, holding me close. And then he kissed me.

Boy, talk about your hot-blooded kisses. If he'd kissed me like that at the start I might have ripped off my own panties and jumped him. As it was when he let me go all I could do was stand there, my fingers lightly touching my lips as he faded away into the night. I sighed and turn to the urgent job of finding my undies.