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Wild Camping with Benefits

Camping is dull; sex is better

By CR BaxterPublished 4 months ago 14 min read
Wild Camping with Benefits
Photo by Lê Tân on Unsplash

I’d been dreaming about sex. A lot. My arms around a beautiful lover, her hands all over me, our naked bodies locked together in ecstasy.

But wild camping isn’t a great way to meet people. Instead, I was enjoying the view and looking forward to a quiet night with a good book.

If you’ve got a tent, a sleeping bag and some cooking equipment, you have everything you need for a short wild camping expedition.

Well, no, that’s not even close to a full set of kit. You need a rucksack, clothes, food, water purification — the list goes on, but you get the idea.

I’d found myself a nice little spot near a small lake. My tent was pitched, my kit neatly stowed, and I was rustling up some lunch on a small stove set on the bank. In hindsight, I could have sited my kitchen more carefully. Glorious thing, hindsight.

Baked beans, bread, cheese and pasta with a plastic-wrapped chocolate brownie to follow. Simple, solid, honest food.

“That’s looking good,” I muttered, stirring the beans. The pasta was already cooked and sitting in a bowl, the bread was ready to go. The cheese was, frankly, suffering in the heat of the late afternoon, but it would go down well with a bottle of beer I had chilling in the lake on a string.

I gave the beans one last stir and lifted the steaming pan off the heat. That was when I heard the frantic shouts from along the path. I turned just in time to get smacked in the face by an enthusiastic spaniel.

“Argh,” I managed to say as I rolled backwards. My beans went everywhere, and I just had time to see a woman rushing down the path before I slid off the bank and into the lake.

“Fuck me, that’s cold,” I said when I surfaced.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said the woman. She held out a hand and hauled me from the lake. “I really am awfully sorry,” she said, although there was a strong hint of a smirk on her face, as if she was barely holding back the laughter.

I was less than impressed. My beans had gone, along with the pan. Into the lake, I guessed, or the dog. My stove had rolled into the mud and gone out, the pasta was strewn across the grass, and the spaniel was eagerly snaffling everything it could find. Of the cheese and bread there was no sign at all.

I looked down at my soaking clothes and my ruined dinner.

“Not the best start to an evening,” I said, trying to put a brave face on it, “but at least I still have my beer.” I pulled on the string and held it up like a trophy. Then the string slid off the neck of the bottle and my beer disappeared into the lake with a sad plop. “Well, fuck.”

The woman burst out laughing. She got a grip for a brief moment when I glared at her, then she creased up again. “I’m so sorry,” she said when she could speak again. I glared some more, but she seemed immune to my angry glances. “Really, I’m sorry. You’re soaked, Monster’s eaten your dinner, and now you’re beer’s gone.”

“Monster?” I managed to ask.

“My dog,” she said. “Look, let me make it up to you.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” I said, although it was going to be a long uncomfortable evening without food, and I’d have to build a fire to dry my clothes. “I’ll have a big breakfast at the cafe in the village before I set off tomorrow.”

“Oh, you haven’t heard? It’s shut this weekend. Holidays, or something.”

I sighed. This was the downside of wild camping; a shortage of amenities.

“But look, honestly, please, let me make it up to you.” I opened my mouth to object but she rambled on. “I have a house around the lake. Let me sort your clothes and fix you some dinner. Please, it’s the least I can do.”

I was about to refuse, but she smiled and defused my anger. “Thank you,” I said with as much grace as I could muster, “that’s very generous.”

“Come on, then. It’s this way. Five minutes, tops. Monster!” The dog burst out of the undergrowth, ran circles around us, then shot off down the path.

“Gill, by the way,” she said, holding out her hand.

“Frank. You live around here?”

“It’s a holiday home. I live in Birmingham but I get out here whenever I can. You?”

“London. Wild camping is a nice way to get away from the hustle and bustle, you know?”

“I can imagine. Can’t get me away from my comforts, though.” She shuddered. “I like a nice bed, hot food, and a good bath.”

“Oh, you can get most of that out here,” I said airily, my mood improving as we walked, “except the mattress is stony, the food is distributed, and the bathing is surprisingly unpleasant.” I waggled my sodden boot.

“Well, maybe it’s lucky for you that I came along,” she said with a grin. She had a pretty, round face with a smart, knowing smile and bright eyes. Dark hair cut in a bob framed her face. She was wearing sensible walking trousers, serious boots, and a technical pullover of some sort that went to great efforts to disguise her shape. Proper equipment for outdoor life, but somehow she managed to make it look fabulous.

“I do a lot of hiking,” she said when I mentioned her clothes. In truth, they could have been mine except for the obvious differences. “Doesn’t pay to get caught out here with the wrong kit, as you know.”

I was about to say something witty when we reached a small thatched cottage. Roses grew around the door, there was lavender in the front garden, and the whole plot gave off a feeling of picturesque nineteenth-century gentility.

“This is me,” said Gill, pushing open the front door.

The tiny hallway was immaculate. She bent to unlace her boots and I followed suit leaving them on the mat to dry.

“Come on through.” She opened a rustic door into an open-plan kitchen living room. “Have a seat over there and start getting out of those wet clothes. You must be freezing.”

She bustled off and I heard her climb the stairs. I sat on a kitchen chair and pulled off my dripping socks. Jacket next, then top. I folded everything and made a neat pile on the floor.

By the time she came back I was down to my trousers and t-shirt.

“Here, you can wear this while I run everything else through the washer,” she said. She passed me a battered dressing gown a couple of sizes too small and a huge towel, then scooped up my clothes.

“Thanks,” I said, not sure how to proceed.

“Come on, chop chop,” she said, waving at me to undress. “Right, sorry. Bit of privacy.” She turned her back and I could almost feel her grinning.

I peeled off my t-shirt and dried my chest. I hadn’t realised how cold I’d got, and now I was shivering badly. It took all my effort to get my trousers off, and when I stood up I realised my boxers had gone with them. I wrapped the gown around my shoulders and tied the belt, but it barely covered my modesty.

“Er, thanks, I’m done,” I said, towel clutched in front of me like a shield.

“Two minutes,” she said, grabbing the rest of my clothes and disappearing through a side door. A moment later I heard a washer begin its cycle, then Gill reappeared.

“Now, let’s fix you something hot to drink and a meal,” she said. “Sit down there and we can have a chat while I work.”

She made busy in the kitchen while I sat and watched. I blinked when I realised she’d changed her outfit. The walking trousers had gone, replaced by a pair of leggings, and the jumper had been become a clingy top. It wasn’t revealing, but it was suggestive. I cleared my throat and petted Monster to distract myself from my sexy hostess.

“Pasta with tomatoes ok? I’ve got bread and cheese as well, and some red wine?”

“Perfect,” I said. A large glass of red appeared on the table moments later. “Thanks.”

We nattered about nothing in particular and worked our way through the wine while Gill cooked our dinner. At some point she opened a second bottle.

“This is very good,” I said taking a sip.

“Right, here we go,” she said, dumping two huge plates of food on the table. “Dig in, then we can take a look at your togs.”

The food was excellent, and by the time we’d finished, the second bottle of wine was empty. I was starting to feel a bit tipsy, but Gill bustled around clearing the table.

“Let me help with that,” I said, jumping up and grabbing the serving plates. I loaded them into the dishwasher then turned to get more.

“Oh, hello,” said Gill, looking me up and down. “That’s more than I’d hoped for.” She gave me a leer that can only be described as ‘predatory’, and that’s when I realised the gown was hanging open. “Don’t be shy,” she said as I hurried to hide my genitals.

“Sorry, the belt’s a bit short.”

“I know,” she said with another leer.

“Sorry, what? Look, you’ve been very kind and generous, but I really think I should be going,” I said. I really wanted to stay, but this was getting awkward.

“It’s ok, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said. “But when I saw you beside the lake I really thought it would be fun to get to know you a bit.” She grinned. “You know what I mean?”

I hesitated. I thought I knew what she meant, and I was definitely interested, but assumptions can be damaging. This wasn’t something I wanted to get wrong.

“I might do,” I admitted, “but maybe you could spell it out? Just so I’m clear?”

She stepped closer. She was shorter than me, but not much, and my fingers twitched with sudden desire.

“I want to suck your dick. I want to feel your fingers in my pussy. I want your tongue on my tits, your hands on my arse, and your cock in my cunt. I want to fuck you every which way I can, in every room of the house, until we collapse under the strain of our multiple orgasms.” She tilted her head and smiled. “Is that clear enough?” she whispered.

“Perfectly,” I said with a grin. I put my hands on her hips and pulled her into a kiss. She tasted of wine and tomatoes.

We kissed for minutes on end, and when we broke apart Gill ran her hands over my chest then gently pushed the gown from my shoulders. It hissed to the floor and she stepped close, wrapping her arms around me and pressing herself against my erect penis.

I ran my hands up and down her back then over her arse, holding her tight. Her fingers trailed down my back, nails scratching at my skin. I gasped, and pulled away. She grinned and kissed my chest. Then she kissed my abdomen, my belly, the top of my leg. My cock grazed her cheek.

“Gill,” I murmured. My hands rested on her head and she kissed my ballsack. Her lips moved to the shaft of my penis. She worked her way up until her mouth closed over my cock and her fingers wrapped around it.

“Gill,” I said again, but I could no more have stopped her than drained the lake. Her head bobbed, her tongue licked at my cock, and her hand pumped up and down. I reached out to steady myself as she sucked and stroked.

“I’m going to come,” I said. Her lips slid off the top of my cock and she pulled away, but her hand kept going. She grinned up at me with lustful eyes and opened her mouth.

“Yes,” I said as I came. Hot white liquid squirted across her mouth and face. She pumped my cock and licked it clean. Jizz ran down her forehead and cheeks. She sat back, wiped her face with her hand, then licked it clean.

“Salty,” she said. “I like it.”

She stood up and kissed me. I tasted my cum on her tongue, then she pressed against me and pushed me to the wall. Her lips were everywhere. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed back, then slowly lowered my hand to her hip. I moved my fingers across her thigh. She shifted to give me access, and I placed my hand on her vulva. The material of her leggings was soaked through.

“Do it,” she begged, and I rubbed my fingers in a circular motion. “More,” she said. I moved my hand to her belly, slid my fingers under the waistband of her leggings, and lowered them slowly. My fingertips touched moist pubic hair, and she moaned. “More,” she pleaded.

My fingers reached her pussy and gently parted her lips. I folded one finger into her vagina and began to work it back and forth.

“You’re so hot,” I said. My cock was hardening again.

“That’s it, harder, do it,” she whispered. She kissed me again and rocked her hips back and forth, seeking the rhythm that would bring her to climax. I fondled her breasts through the thin fabric of her top, then pulled it up to expose her chest. Her breasts were small and firm, her nipples hard and perky, and I kissed her mouth and neck as I fingered her cunt.

“Keep going,” she said, but I knew she wanted more. I bent to kiss her nipples, teasing them with my teeth. She moaned and ground her pussy against my hand.

My free hand moved to her arse, grabbing and pinching. I plucked at the material and she caught my meaning. She took hold of her leggings and pushed them down, and now I could see the pussy I was fingering. My palm sat on a thick patch of dark brown curls, my fingers wet with her juices as I worked.

“Fuck me, fuck me now,” she hissed, pulling my hand away. She grabbed my cock and lifted one leg, bending me forward and standing on tiptoes until her pussy was in just the right spot. She held me in place and drove downwards.

“Oh, god, yes,” she said as her cunt engulfed me. She clung to me and eased herself slowly up and down, grinding against my cock. “Bedroom,” she whispered in my ear, sliding free. She pulled her top over her head and stepped out of her leggings. Naked, she backed toward the door. “It’s this way,” she said, a sly grin leading me on.

I darted forward, arms outstretched, and she ducked away. She pounded up the stairs and I followed eagerly, not wanting to let her out of my sight. The bedroom was almost filled by a huge four-poster, and she bounced onto the bed, rolling onto her back. Legs spread, she beckoned me forward.

I moved quickly, climbing up on the bed kneel between her legs. Leaning down I kissed her breasts, then her belly, then worked my way down to her pussy. She hissed with pleasure as I licked her slit. I pushed my tongue deep inside her and she moaned.

“Fuck, that’s good,” she said. She ground herself against my face, arching off the bed to watch me work. I looked up the length of her body, over her toned belly and past her perfect breasts. Her mouth was open and she panted as her moment approached.

“Cock, finish me with cock,” she said suddenly, pulling at my arms. I grinned and slid up the bed to obey. My dick slipped easily into her wet pussy and I buried myself in her. She groaned and I set to work, propping myself up so I could watch her as we fucked.

In and out, in and out. She panted, sometimes holding her breath, then moaning and taking another. The rhythm built, getting faster and more urgent as we moved together, each chasing our own climax.

She came first. Hardly surprising after the build-up. She lifted off the bed, pressing up to meet me as I stroked away, mouth open as she orgasmed. That was enough to push me over the edge and I came just as she slumped back down.

I slid free and rolled onto my back. For a moment, there was only the sound of our breathing and the rain against the window. Gill turned toward me and propped herself up on her side, a huge smile on her face.

“Well? Worth falling in a lake for?” she asked.

I rolled onto my side facing her and ran a finger along her flank and down to her crotch. She shivered as I touched her pussy.

“Certainly was,” I said. I drew my hand back and playfully wiped my fingers on her breast. She giggled and leaned forward to kiss me. “This is much better than camping.”


About the Creator

CR Baxter

I write sexy stories to entertain and excite. My stories are respectful, consensual, full of dirty language, and laced with humour and unexpected twists. Enjoy!

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