Wet in the Wilderness

The silence was almost deafening, even the small campfire in front of you had burned down to the point where the crackling sound was barely audible anymore.

The forest had long fallen asleep and the sounds of nocturnal animals were few and far between. It reminded you of your childhood, growing up in an age where a Diskman was the state of the art.

When you finished school everyone was suddenly running around with smartphones, ipods were long outdated technologies, and the loud brick phones on the train had been replaced by bluetooth speakers.

You hadn't realized how much you had grown accustomed to the constant noise around you until silence returned and you had to relearn to live with it.

For the first year you had actually found yourself longing for access to a phone more for music than the other benefits, but there was so little working electronic infrastructure left that even if you had had a phone there would have been no way to get any music onto it.

So you did the smart thing and learned to live with a world where the only sounds were either animals or danger -- often both -- and then soon learned to love it again.

Without any way to distract yourself you had no choice but to be alone with your thoughts and the choices you made. And you found you managed to come to terms that you carried around for years.

First and foremost your own sexuality. For such an open-minded society as you had grown up in you had struggled with a surprising amount of self-doubt and lack of confidence.

So many wrong things and unnecessary constraints you had never realized until they had become practically invalid, only lingering in the heads of those who had stood under their command for too long.

The first few weeks you spent in the abandoned parts of the city and out here in the wilderness, that allowed you to come to terms with being naked, which sounded weird even to yourself looking back now.

Sure no one could have stopped you from being naked at least in your own home, but for some reason you always wore clothes even if you weren't in the shower or taking a bath.

Hurrying from one uncomfortable set of clothes into a more comfortable one and even when you masturbated it had usually been at night before falling asleep and already under the blanket.

Out here you were making a conscious effort to break self-harming habits like that, and the rough bark digging into your naked skin clearly showed you were succeeding.

Fall was on its way, but it was still more than warm enough to make you sweat all day long, so the only shivers you felt came from the pleasures your fingers evoked.

Your eyes were following the dancing flames whenever they burst up, your left hand was following the contours of your body and doing as good a job on your nipples as your right hand was further down.

A sigh broke the silence and turned into a moan with the next breath that was cut short by circling motions over sensitive nerve endings. That was another thing, why had you always tried to be silent even when no one was around the house?

You had no idea, but as you leaned back into the tree you broke the habit as well, allowing each sigh and moan and squeal that wanted to come out to flow freely like your pussy juices already were.

When you opened your eyes for a brief moment you noticed your little campsite was quickly engulfed by the upcoming darkness, limiting your view to the immediate surroundings, your backpack, hunting rifle and the pile of clothes that did such a great job of protecting you during the day.

You closed your eyes again, relishing the knowledge you were safer out here in the wilderness without walls around you than you could ever be back in the city, solitude being the most powerful security measure at your disposal.

You leaned your head against the tree and tried to relax your body, but all your muscles tensioned and your body shifted under the weight of your fingers making it impossible to keep still or calm.

In fact your whole body was trembling by now, somehow you missed the phase between slow, relaxed messing around with yourself and full-on fingering yourself to an intense orgasm, lost in thought about life and the state of the world.

Thinking felt increasingly hard now and you worked purely on instinct, your body overrode your mind and left you a choiceless, willing puppet with yourself on both ends of the strings that made your fingers push deeper into your warm pussy than they were long and spread your legs with the flexibility of the ballet dancer you had never been.

And it wasn't your voice either that was now squealing and moaning into the darkness, your voice was never that coarse and your inner dictionary contained a lot more than the couple of words you seemed to know.

Unable to think or speak clearly every nerve in your body suddenly but hardly unexpectedly exploded with pain that was not painful, easing the physical and mental tension that had built up inside you in one blink of an eye and then leaving her muscles in that wonderful floating state between relaxed and unable to tighten if your life depended on it.

You sank into the tree and when your vision finally cleared your nakedness and the damage the rough bark had done to your skin came through the fog.

You were glad for the darkness that prevented all the eyes that weren't around from seeing how you blushed, scolding yourself with that insufferable grin that spoke of adventure and having to pay for it later at the same time.

You exhaled deeply and allowed your lungs to fill with fresh air, then collected all your strength to get up and put a couple of twigs on the fire that was dying out.

You spent a moment poking the twigs until the flames started to leak over to the new fuel, then walked over to the pile of clothes to get dressed.

All the desire for nakedness you had felt earlier was now replaced by the longing for the security your clothes offered.

So you brushed earth and pine needles from your butt and slipped into your worn jeans, fastened the belt and then wrangled your way into shirt and jacket before you adjusted the position of you backpack to serve as an incredibly uncomfortable pillow, gripped your rifle and fell asleep watching the dancing flames of the fire that would fall asleep long before the rising sun would wake you up again.