It was summer. And time for our annual extended family camping trip. We’d done it ever since I could remember, my parents, my aunts and uncles, my cousins, even friends of the family joining us. All the older kids would bring friends, and by the time we were college aged we’d bring boyfriends and girlfriends. I was nineteen and had just finished my freshman year at community college. I was looking forward to leaving in the fall for an out of state university for my sophomore year.
We went to the same campground every year, a place off the beaten path, and we’d rent several lots at the far end. It felt like we were deep in the woods, even though we weren’t a terribly far walk from laundry and shower facilities, and a nice sized town was just a few minutes away by car.
All told each summer anywhere between fifteen and thirty of us would meet out there, with tents, campers, and RVs. The RVs and campers were for the adults and small children, and the rest of us grouped up into different sized tents. The adults’ only rule was no co-ed sleeping in order to set a good example for the younger cousins. But with plenty of hiking and biking trails, and secluded places to swim along the lake no one really complained. There were plenty of opportunities for sexual fun if you had brought a date.
For several years now I’d been old enough to have my own tent. With a younger brother and mostly male cousins I’d rarely had to share with anyone. Being the only girl my age was a definite perk.
But the summer I’m telling you about was different. One of my cousins was bringing his twenty-one-year-old college girlfriend and he’d asked if I’d share my four-person tent with her since I was alone. My aunt wouldn’t let him bring her unless he arranged a place for her to sleep ahead of time. I’d always gotten along with my cousin and had met his girlfriend several times at cookouts and holiday gatherings, so of course I agreed.
I had just completed my freshman year of college and had been able to live at home instead of the dorm because we lived close to campus. While I was far from shy, I was usually quiet in crowds and would have preferred to bunk alone. Several years earlier I had discovered masturbation, and it was a part of my nightly routine to tease myself to an orgasm or two before I could sleep. Sharing a tent would certainly take that opportunity away, but I figured it might be good to curtail my masturbation habit since I’d been accepted at an out of state school for my sophomore year and I’d soon be in a crowded dorm.
Rachael and I settled into our tent and got along just fine. She was a few years into college and happily answered a lot of my questions about dorms, classes, homework, and college dating. We stayed up late most nights, each in our own sleeping bag in the dark, talking about all sorts of things. The later it got each night the more ‘adult’ our conversation would become, with me asking questions about sex. I wasn’t a virgin but had never had an orgasm with a partner and was aware that there was a whole world beyond four or five minutes of the missionary position. She and my cousin had been having sex for quite a while, and she didn’t mind answering my questions.
It started raining the second day we were there and didn’t let up until we left. A slow steady downpour that kept the air cool and the sky gray. The guys still fished, happily sitting in the drizzle with their poles, and the kids spent most of their time in the RVs watching movies and playing board games while the adults sat around and talked. Everyone got along well enough that the rain didn’t really ruin anything, it just cut down on the number of things we could do outside.
At the end of the second rainy day everyone decided that an all-day trip to town the next day would be a good use of time. There was a movie theater, several fast food places, a mall, and plenty to do. As much as a movie appealed to me, I decided that since Rachael and James would surely be going into town with everyone, I’d have the tent to myself if I decided to stay behind for the day. I told my mom it was a chance to catch up on my English Literature list of suggested reading for the summer, but I didn’t mention that I also planned to have three or four orgasms with all that privacy. She bought it, since I’ve always been a voracious reader, and to this day I’d rather read than shop.
To my surprise Rachael decided to stay behind as well. James was planning to hit a sports bar with all the cousins and uncles to catch a game and she had no interest in that. Since she also had some summer reading to do, I resigned myself to what I was sure would at least be a peacefully quiet day.
We had plenty of food, and we could get into one of the RVs if we needed to cook anything.
We spent most of the morning reading, and after braving the rain to get into the RV and make some lunch we ran back to our tent. We got soaked in the process, and were both chilly, so we stripped down to our underwear and t shirts and crawled into our sleeping bags. We both intended to keep reading I’m sure, but in the darkened tent with the soothing sound of rain outside we started talking. Even though it was mid-afternoon it felt late at night as we lay there almost whispering.
And knowing that everyone was miles away gave me a boldness to take the conversation towards the topic of orgasms.
Answering my many questions Rachael described how many months it had taken her to start having orgasms during intercourse, and what sort of foreplay she needed at the start to make sure that she could orgasm later when she wanted to.
I confessed to not having had an orgasm during sex, but that I’d been having a few almost daily since discovering the pleasure my own fingers could cause all those years ago.
We talked about masturbation, and it gave me an unexpected thrill to learn that she too masturbated often.
We talked about oral sex. Prior to that conversation I’d had little interest in letting a guy put a penis in my mouth, however listening to her describe it made me want to try it.
We talked about having a guy lick us down there, and based on the clumsy fingerings I’d experienced I assumed it would be more of the same, but the way she described the kind of orgasm caused by a slow skillful licking and sucking down there made me ache to have someone do it to me.
We talked about different sexual positions, and I realized that my body was responding physically to the conversation as I imagined how each different way to be fucked would feel.
At one point I unzipped my sleeping bag and opened it a bit to let air in. I wondered if Rachael felt as overheated as I did from our conversation.
We talked a lot about kissing, and we agreed that thinking about slow sensual kissing played a large part in each of our masturbatory fantasies.
I asked what she thought the best way to masturbate was, and as we talked about our fingers and the different ways we would each tease and tickle and stroke and rub ourselves I had to fight an almost losing battle to keep my fingers from slipping into my panties. Every few minutes I would cup my mound with my hand and feel the heat that was radiating out from my pussy through the thin cotton.
We talked for hours as the rain came down. It got darker outside and we grew more and more comfortable with each other, sharing things that we’d never told others.
As our comfort grew, so did our boldness, and I became aware of a very sexual energy in our conversation.
Eventually we heard the cars begin to return, and I left the sleeping bag and went to the door of the tent to shout to my parents that we were safe and fine and dry and planning to stay put for the rest of the night. I saw James stagger into the pop up he was sharing with his brothers and I knew he’d soon be dead asleep.
I hadn’t wanted to leave my sleeping bag. I was wet from hours of arousal, and I was certain that my panties would have a very telling wet spot from where I’d kept touching myself, but I knew that shouting across the woods would do less to break the spell we’d spent the afternoon weaving than having my mother stick her head in to check on us.
And I really had begun to think of us as being under some sort of indescribable spell. We had found some sort of erotic intersection of rain, near darkness, conversation, company, and intimacy built by sharing secrets.
The rest of our group was hunkered in for the night, and as afternoon became evening and evening slid closer and closer to night Rachael and I continued our intimate conversation. We had begun to whisper when the others returned, even though we were far enough away from everyone that they’d have never heard us over the distance and sound of the pouring rain.
An hour earlier when I’d poked my head out of the tent, I’d realized something, but I’d hurried back to the coziness of my sleeping bag in order to put off dealing with it. But as it got later and later, I was more and more aware of what the cooler air outside the sleeping bag had made me realize. It had been several hours since I had emptied my bladder, and I would need to relieve myself sooner or later.
The shower building with toilets wasn’t a long walk from where we were, but the rain and darkening woods certainly made me think of it as further away than it was.
As we continued to whisper I found myself wishing it wasn’t raining so I could just go pee behind a tree without getting soaked, but I knew I’d hate to do that too since it would mean leaving the tent and interrupting our conversation.
Once I was aware of the pressure in my bladder it became harder and harder to ignore. Only my aroused body was able to distract me time and again as we continued to talk about our favorite ways to orgasm.
Eventually I knew that if I didn’t start making some decisions I was going to end up with no options. Reluctantly I sat up in my sleeping bag and in the near darkness I took a deep breath.
“What’s wrong Emily?” Rachael asked.
“I hate to, but I have to go outside I think.” I whispered.
Peering at me with wide open eyes she asked quietly “Do you have to pee?”
“Yes. I’ve been trying to hold it, but I can’t anymore.”
“I have to go too. I have for a long time, but I didn’t want to stop talking” she confessed.
“It’s going to be a long walk to the bathroom.” I was pulling on a pair of sweatpants and trying to ignore the desperate signals my bladder was sending me with each movement.
“We could just go behind the trees.” She ventured while pulling on an oversize hoodie. I realized that at some point she’d taken her t shirt and bra off and that she’d been wearing nothing but her underwear. I was shocked to realize that the thought of her going outside bra-less under her hoodie had caused my heart to thump just a bit harder.
“I think it’s raining too hard. We’d get soaked.” I said.
“Maybe we could huddle under the umbrella.” She whispered, as she knelt next to me at the flap of the tent.
“We’d have to huddle so close together we’d end up peeing on each other.” I said. I couldn’t understand why that mental image caused butterflies to explode in my belly.
“I can’t wait.” She declared in a loud whisper. “And I don’t want to get completely wet either. I’m going to go in here.”
“In here?” I couldn’t believe she’d said that.
“Yes. I can’t wait and I know how I’m going to do it.” She quickly snapped on a flashlight and opened her cooler. It was blue and made to hold a six pack of cans or bottles, with just enough room left over for ice. The hinges were broken on the lid and it didn’t stay closed perfectly, and she’d brought it to keep her make up in.
She quickly emptied everything from it onto her sleeping bag, and then pulled her hoodie back off. She turned the flashlight off, glanced out the tent flap to confirm that the weather was keeping everyone inside, and then squatted over her cooler.
She reached down and pulled her panties to the side, and almost immediately began to lose her balance.
“Fuck” she muttered, but before I could think I’d moved over, kneeling beside her. I put my arms around her shoulders to help her balance.
Staring into her eyes from inches away I could see the exact moment she relaxed, followed by the sound of her liquid hissing into the plastic cooler. She sighed and shuddered as she continued to go, pissing a steady stream into the container. I held her, staring and listening and overwhelmed by the electrical feeling of intimacy in the tent, as she squatted right next to me and peed with us holding onto each other.
I was acutely aware of feeling my hands and arms against her bare skin. She was as overheated as I was, but all I felt was a comforting warmth coming from her body. And because we’d spent all day talking about sex, because of the naughtiness of it all, because of the closeness we’d developed over the course of our erotic conversation, and because of being close enough to feel her breath and hear her heart thumping it was the most arousing thing I had ever experienced.
It went on and on, indicating that she hadn’t been exaggerating when she said she’d really had to go. I could feel her tensing as her legs began to cramp from holding her position, and I leaned into her to try to take some of her weight off her legs. She pressed back into me and as I heard her stream taper off, I felt her hot breath against the side of my neck.
We stayed like that for a moment, each of us lost in our thoughts about what we’d just shared. But the moment had to pass, if only because the pressure from my own bladder demanded it.
I pulled away from her, reached for a box of tissues and held them out to her. She took one and wiped herself, putting it in the grocery sack we were using for trash. She let go of her panties and sat back on her sleeping bag, stretching out her legs.
“God that felt so good,” she sighed.
Reluctantly I whispered “Now I really have to go, and I can’t wait. I’m going to head for the trees and hope I don’t drown.”
But she caught my arm and said, “Just go here.”
Staring at her in the dim light while she wore nothing except her panties made her look equal parts sexual and vulnerable, and I’m sure I visibly flushed with the sexual thrill that pulsed through me. There was nothing I wanted to do more at that moment than pee while being close to her.
I was seconds away from losing control, so I had no time to contemplate whether I should be embarrassed, or savor the moment, or anything else. I quickly pulled my sweatpants off and realized that my panties had come off as well. Wearing only my bra I knelt with a knee on either side of the cooler and lowered myself as close to it as I could get while putting my weight on my arms.
While I crouched on all fours Rachael moved behind me and put her hands under my arms. She pulled me so I was sitting straight up and wrapped her arms around me.
She pushed her lips into a gentle kiss just under my ear and with a deep sigh I let go, my piss rushing into the plastic container to join hers in the most erotic moment of my life.
She hugged me tighter as I continued to go, both of us feeling our hearts thud and neither of us understanding how a non-sexual bodily function had suddenly become so erotic. I felt my stream slowing down, and wished I’d been able to savor it for longer. As it turned into the final spasm of drips, I turned towards the tissue box, intending to reach for one and wipe with it.
But my face was suddenly against Rachael’s face, and without any hesitation she closed her eyes and kissed me. A long kiss, slow and exploratory. I kissed back at her and she hugged me tighter. With her still behind me I put my hands on her bare thighs and pushed my tongue into her mouth, feeling her tongue slide against mine and then into my mouth. She moaned and pushed her mouth against mine, ending the kiss by using her tongue to lick my lips.
She was quickly embarrassed, and I felt myself burning hot in confusion and shame. She grabbed a handful of tissues and used them to wipe my thighs and vulva. She threw them away and pulled her hoodie back on, grabbing the cooler and taking it outside. In the few seconds it took her to empty it I slid into my sleeping bag still wearing only my bra.
I was embarrassed and ashamed about what we’d just done. Not because I hadn’t enjoyed it. I had. So much that I’d do it all again and even more if given the opportunity. But I felt bad because she seemed so embarrassed. I felt like I’d selfishly enjoyed something that had made her uncomfortable.
She crawled into her sleeping bag and we lay there in the dark.
“I’m so sorry. I crossed a line and I totally didn’t plan to and I hope you’re….”I trailed off because I had no idea what to say.
“Oh Em. I enjoyed it. So much. I just hope you don’t think I’m weird.”
Relief washed over me, and I said “You’re not any weirder than I am. That was the most turned on I’ve ever been.”
“Yeah I didn’t expect that to happen.” She said. “But I’m so horny right now I could scream.”
“Me too.” I giggled.
I lay there in the dark, trying to think of something to say. I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but I knew I didn’t want the conversation to end. I wanted to stay connected. I was desperately hoping that she was being honest about being okay, and I was also fighting an urge to crawl into her sleeping bag so we could hold each other.
She laughed softly from the darkness beside me. “I’m usually not even this horny after foreplay.” She whispered. “And foreplay is amazing.”
“I wish I knew. I’d give anything to have some right now.” My voice seemed to be huskier than I could ever remember.
“Are you serious?” she whispered.