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Campground Awakening

Lubrican

Cover

Campground Awakening

by Robert Lubrican

zbookstore Edition

Copyright 2025 Robert Lubrican

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to zbookstore.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Rights to use cover art purchased at iStock.com

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Table of Contents

Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Epilogue | Afterword

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Foreword

This book has been edited to comply with the publisher's standards. All characters in this book are at least 18 years of age or older.

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Chapter One

My parents farmed two thousand acres of wheat, along with a herd of about a hundred and seventy-five head of beef cattle. My dad had worked up to that from the original five hundred and eighty-two acres he inherited from my grandfather. True, most of the land was leased, but he worked hard to make that land produce. So did us kids. I had twin half-brothers older than me. I guess their mom died of some complication after they were born. Nobody talked about her much. After that my dad met my mother at one of the town's 4th of July celebrations when she was still in high school and the rest, as they say, is history. You can tell what kind of woman she is by the fact that she took on a husband and twin boys who weren't yet two, when she was barely eighteen.

Anyway, since then the twins had grown up. They went to college when I was eleven. Chet studied agriculture, while Ralph went after an animal husbandry degree. When they graduated and came home Chet handled the crops and Ralph took care of the herd. Dad split his time working with whoever needed his attention the most. Along the way Mom had two kids of her own. I had one of those pain-in-the-ass birthdays, when it came to school situations. I was born on the fifteenth day of October, which was the cutoff date for getting into first grade when you're still only five. They couldn't decide if you had be six before the fifteenth, or if you could be six on the fifteenth. They decided to make me wait one more year, which made it weird, because after that, everybody in my class was always younger than me. It was that way for the rest of my life. I was always a year older than everybody else in my class when we started a school year which meant that when I graduated I was nineteen but everybody else was only eighteen. I also had a little sister, Julie May, who was a year younger than me.

All of us worked hard, whether there was school or not. I might not have formal training, but I could sure sit on a John Deere tractor and pull discs, sweeps or spring tooth, and I could drive a combine as well as any adult. I might not know as much as Ralph did about cattle, but I could castrate a calf blindfolded, and move a group of cows anywhere you wanted me to.

What I didn't have - what none of us had - was any semblance of a social life. Well, Chet and Ralph both got one when they went to college. They even got married while they were off having fun and even Mom had to pitch in and plow fields or wrangle cows. If we weren't in school we were working or sleeping. Eating didn't count, though we did plenty of that too.

My mother claimed that all that hard work and good food was why I was taller than anybody else in my family. I was taller than just about anybody else in the county, for that matter. I was strong too, though I had a wiry kind of strength. I wasn't a show-off or anything, but if a piano needed moving at school, and the four guys tugging and pushing on it were having trouble, once I joined them it seemed like the wheels loosened up or something ... if you get my meaning.

I didn't get to go on many dates, but I knew all about girls. I was fascinated with them, not counting Julie May, who was in direct competition with me for getting out of chores, not that we had much chance of doing that. But while I was very interested in girls, I hardly ever got to explore what they were like. I got to see them during school hours, but teachers have this habit of making you pay attention to the classroom instruction, instead of more interesting things. And after school I had to high-tail it home and get started on chores. It was that way on Friday and Saturdays, too. There just wasn't much time for me to go off and be on a date with a girl.

I had plenty of chances to study up on my mother and Julie May, but they didn't hardly seem like real females to me. I mean they had all the parts and such, but you know what I mean. And while I occasionally saw Cathy, who was Chet's wife, and Rebecca, who was Ralph's wife, my brothers lived in trailers parked a mile in either direction of the main house, and their women didn't hang around our place all that much. We got together for big dinners and all that, but even after a few years Cathy and Rebecca still seemed kind of distant.

In fact, the only woman I really got to see and know well at all outside my own immediate family was my Aunt Wendy, who was my mother's little sister. She had been me and Julie May's babysitter when we were little, and she'd been the one to read us wild adventure stories she got from the library, and play games with us, and go on treasure hunts and build forts and treehouses and all manner of fun things. She was like our grown-up buddy, and it was special. Aunt Wendy was also the black sheep of the family, if you could call it that. That might have had its seeds in the fact that, before she died, Grandma Haverson called Wendy "her little accident," because she wasn't planned, and was ten years younger than my mother. She got along better with kids younger than herself (like me and Julie May) than she did with the ones her own age. Instead of going to college she had joined the Air Force and stayed in for five years. She got out to go spend two years working for a contractor of some kind in Kuwait. It was all hush hush, but she made a boatload of money and put it all in savings. I guess there wasn't a lot there to spend your money on over there in the Middle East. It had practically killed me when she joined the Air Force because I was ten, and my imagination was expanding in leaps and bounds because of the things she taught us. She was a whiz at science and knew all kinds of interesting stuff. Additionally, ten was old enough to be given more important chores to do on the farm. So I lost my buddy and became a virtual slave all at the same time.

Understand here, I'm not complaining about the work. We're a family and it's a family farm. Some day I'll get part of it and reap all the benefits of that hard work. Actually, I reap a lot of them now. I'm healthy, well fed, and I have what they call a more well-rounded education than some kid who spends hours playing video games. Hell, we don't even turn the TV on unless it's for the news or weather.

Anyway, I was out riding fence one day on the ATV and I found a cow that had got caught up in the fence, trying to reach the taller grass on the other side. It was March and it was still cold as hell, and her horns got wrapped up in a loose strand of barbed wire. She'd tossed her head and in the process had gotten the wire around her throat. She was in a bad way, but what made it even worse was that she'd gone into labor while she was caught up like that and that's when I happened upon her. I got out my fence pliers, which I carried everywhere I went, and snipped the strands that had her hung up. She flopped down then and the half of the calf sticking out of her kicked, so I grabbed on and pulled and that was that. Then I put that calf over my legs and the gas tank, between me and the handle bars, and got back to the house quick. Dad went after the cow and Ralph checked out the calf, deciding that the bumpy ride back had done her more good than harm. He turned the calf over to Julie May to take care of. That was what she called her specialty. It didn't amount to any more than cooing over it and getting it to take a bottle. Hell, anybody could do that. Ralph got on the 4-wheeler to go help Dad. They saved the cow too, by the way.

Dad was more than happy. He said as a reward for my quick thinking I could choose anything I wanted that didn't cost more than fifty dollars.

I chose a camping trip to the Twin Peaks State Park - a week long camping trip, with hiking and fishing and swimming and no tractors and no cows. Dad said that he might be able to get away in early June, before harvest started, and the deal was struck. Chet and Ralph said they'd cover things and didn't make a fuss about me getting this trip. I think that's because while they had gone to college, their degrees covered everything the farm needed and it wasn't planned for me to go to college, myself. I'd still have part of the farm when it was turned over to Mom and Dad's progeny, as would Julie May, if she stayed there. Obviously, if I took off to go do something else, my share would be forfeited, too. So I had a lifetime of working day and sometimes night ahead of me and this camping trip was like finding Spanish gold hidden in a cave.

I planned everything out and was all excited. A whole week of relaxation and no work. A week of lying around being lazy while I caught fish or swam around. And maybe there would be some girls camping there too.

Memorial Day came around, one of the few rest days we had. We had a big feast on days like this, and company came from all over, primarily because it was hard for us to go anywhere and leave the cattle completely untended. Plus we had a big house and big kitchen and shade trees to eat under and all that.

It was during that feast that everything fell apart.

A group of the men were all gathered around the 55 gallon barrel Bar-B-Q grill that was set up by the three tables where people had put the things they brought to contribute to the feast. The women were sitting at the tables, chatting and waiting for the meat to get done.

Chet announced that Old Gertie had either thrown a rod that morning when he fired her up, or was about to, based on the knocking she'd done before he shut her down. Old Gertie was a '63 Chevy grain truck we used to get wheat from the field to the elevator. We had three trucks, and Julie May had been driving Gertie since she was fifteen. In that part of the world the sheriff looked the other way, sometimes even when the driver was fourteen. In years past I ran one of our two combines pretty much from sunup to sundown, but this year they had set up a rotation so everybody would get to do a little of everything. They hoped it would help people pay attention better. If you lowered the cutterbar too low then you were threshing more stems than needed and that caused wear and tear on things in the combine. Wear and tear meant new parts and down time and all that, so I was taught to cut two inches below the heads of wheat and since the wheat in the field was different heights, you had to pay close attention to what you were doing. If you got too tired and weren't paying attention you could cut too high or too low and Dad would not be happy. I liked driving the Gleaner. It even had air conditioning and a radio.

Anyway, when Dad found out about Gertie he said, "Damn. That will take a week to rebuild, and that's if I can get the parts."

"I already called Cooper's," said Chet. "He says he can get the rods and bearings and a gasket set. Said it will take three days to get them here UPS."

"That's a relief," said Dad. "Okay then. We'll get the motor out of it tomorrow and start tearing it down. That should be done by the next day and we can get the parts to the machine shop that need looking at. If the crank is all right we should be able to have the machine work done and be ready to put it back together when the parts get here. We'll just have to baby her to break her in during the harvest."

Like an idiot I said, "You can't do that, Dad. We're going camping tomorrow."

He was a very practical guy and he didn't even have to think about it.

"Sorry, Bobby. No can do. I have to get that truck back up for harvest. You know that."

He didn't sound all that sorry. I think he was a work-a-holic myself.

"I'll go by myself," I said. I admit it might have sounded a bit angry.

"No you won't," said my mother. I didn't ever argue with her. She said what she meant, and meant what she said. "You can go camping some other time," she added.

"Maybe after harvest," said Dad.

"Yeah, right," I said. After harvest there would be haying, and then working the ground to make sure weeds didn't take hold until it could be seeded again. Then we'd be loading cows up to sell at auction. Unless I wanted to go camping in the dead of winter I knew I was out of luck.

I know it's silly that it meant that much to me, but I snuck off so I wouldn't cry in front of them. There was an old bag swing out back. Nobody had used it in probably three or four years but when I tugged on it, it still seemed strong enough to support my weight, so I wrapped my legs around it and kicked off. I was about to work up to a good sniffling cry when my Aunt Wendy wandered over.

"What's up, Bubba?" she asked. She'd called me Bubba for as long as I could remember.

"My name's Bobby!" I snapped.

"Oh, I see," she said, clearly unruffled by my correction. "What's up, Bobby?"

"I want to be alone!" I growled.

"Tough shit," she said, all calm like.

Nobody in our family cussed. It wasn't allowed. Of course she'd seen the world and she didn't go by our rules. Still, it was a shock to hear an adult, and especially a woman, curse like that.

"Just leave me alone," I moaned, trying to hold in the sobs so she wouldn't see them.

"Can't do that," she sighed, and sat down on the ground by the trunk of the tree. She was wearing a loose summer dress, but she just plopped down there anyway. "From the sound of it you might commit suicide and then everybody would say it was my fault, because I could have stopped you." She had this melodramatic tone in her voice and she worked it as she went on. "And then I wouldn't be welcome around here anymore, and since I don't have any other family worth a flying fuck I'd be all lonely and pretty soon I'd take to drinking strong liquor and hanging out at pool halls and rolling drunks for quarters. It would all end badly with me in prison, running a gang of the most feared women in the whole state. We'd be called 'Wendy's Wolves' and grown men would tremble in fear at our name." She looked over at me. "You wouldn't want that to happen, now would you?"

Did I mention it was hard to stay mad when Aunt Wendy was around? She was just so fun-loving and she said such crazy things ... like what she'd just said.

"Wendy's Wolves?" I snorted. "Oooo, I'm scared already."

"You should be! We tear our victims' throats out," she said, completely serious. "And then howl." She lifted her chin and made a sound that was part coyote, part hyena and part alto. I had to laugh.

She stopped. "That's better. Now what's got your dick in a knot?"

I stared and she actually blushed. She knew there was no cussing allowed in our family.

"Sorry," she said. "Sometimes I slip back into military speak. Why are you all worked up?"

"Dad promised me a camping trip and now he's backing out of it."

"Is that all?" She smiled.

"You don't understand," I moaned. "It's a whole week at the state park and we were going to fish and hike and swim and there wouldn't be any cows or chores. And he promised, because I saved a calf and it's not fair."

I was getting worked up again.

"So go without him," she said.

"I tried." I almost sobbed. "Mom says I can't go alone."

"No problem," she said. "Hell, take me. I'll go."

I blinked. "Really?" You'd have thought she'd just said "Don't worry about that nasty old cancer, I'll donate some bone marrow." There was that much hope in my voice.

"Sure. I love camping," she said. "I'm pretty good at it too. I went camping lots of times in the Girl Scouts, and I kind of miss it. How about I go talk to your mother and fix it all up?"

"You'd really do that?" I asked. It was like Christmas had been un-cancelled.

"Wait right there," she said, and got up. She brushed at the skirt of her sun dress and went to stand next to my mother, who was cutting up watermelon slices and arranging them on a big plate. They put their heads together, and Mom looked over at me. I tried to look pitiful, which is pretty hard to do when you're hanging onto a bag swing. Then Aunt Wendy was on her way back and she was smiling and my heart just about burst.

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I couldn't wait for the next day so that Wendy and I could get on the road. Julie May was already saying how unfair it was that I got to go with Aunt Wendy and she had to stay there and work, but Mom just said "You didn't save a calf." Julie May said as how she'd fed the calf and had kept it alive, but Mom wasn't having any of that.

I tried not to wake anybody up the next morning. All my stuff was already packed and waiting down by the front door. We had decided to start really early so we'd get there with daylight left to set up and do some things. That meant she was picking me up at three in the morning. She was right on time. We loaded my stuff next to hers in the back of her pickup. It felt so strange to leave without saying goodbye to anybody, almost like I was sneaking off or something.

We headed down the road, west towards the Colorado line. It was about a seven hour drive to get to the park. We made small talk along the way, mostly about me and what I liked most about school. She'd only been back from Kuwait for maybe six months and I'd only seen her a couple of times since then, and only a few minutes each time. So I spent two hours with my jaw hanging down as she told me stories about what she did there. Some of it was what she called classified, which meant she wasn't supposed to talk about it, but she told me anyway.

We decided not to stop for a proper breakfast. Instead when we stopped for gas I got half a dozen donuts and a quart of chocolate milk.

We got back on the road, gorging on the sweetness of the donuts and sharing the milk. Eventually she asked me about my girlfriends.

"So tell me, Bobby. A good-looking man like you, you must have all the girls chasing after you. How many girlfriends do you have?"

A man? She called me a man!

"Well I really don't actually have a girlfriend. I wasn't even allowed to date until I turned sixteen, and since then there hasn't been any time for dates. I mean I asked some girls out, but what girl wants to go out starting at nine at night, and have to be home by ten? Besides, girls aren't interested in me."

"Don't be silly, Bobby. You are what I believe the girls call a hunk these days. I bet they salivate over you."

"Yeah, right." I smiled. She made me feel good, but I doubted she was right. Girls had talked to me at school and all, but I didn't even know the right way to ask one out for a date. Then there was the fact that Tanya Talbot, the tallest girl in school, only came to my chin. Plus there was the problem of when I'd be allowed enough time to actually go on a date. I think my mother wanted me to wait until I was out of high school. I think she had this fantasy that I'd graduate and then get married and work on the farm for the rest of my life. I wondered where, exactly, she thought I might find a bunch of women to choose a wife from. I had an errant thought, wondering if that's why my brothers had gone to college - so they could have a social life.

I had turned sideways so I could face her while we talked, and suddenly I remembered something. A year or two back she'd sent a picture of her wearing a bikini on a beach somewhere. It had "Wish you were here" on the back, and my mom said it was just to torture her. It had tortured me just a bit, because I got hard looking at it. I'd jacked off, remembering how she looked, and then felt guilty for days. I know that sounds goofy, but she'd always been just Aunt Wendy before. Pretty, yes. Fun, yes. But just Aunt Wendy. That was the first time I'd seen her as a female of the species, if you know what I mean.

Now I actually looked at her as a female again.

She was really pretty in a wholesome way. Her hair wasn't done up fancy and she didn't look like she was wearing any makeup, but she was still interesting to look at. It's hard to explain, but I felt like wanted to watch her for hours. She was Maybe 5'7" and 120 pounds. I'm 6'4", which means everybody looks short to me, and sometimes my estimates are off. It was also hard to tell how big her breasts were. I mean I could see she was wearing a bra and it seems like that would compress things. In the bra they were about as big as an oversize soft ball maybe. She had long legs and a nice round ass.

Wendy saw our exit and pulled off the freeway and headed southeast toward the State Park where we had reservations for a tent site. A little while later we pulled up to the Ranger station to register.

"Welcome to the park, folks," he said. "It's a light day so far, so you pretty much have your choice of spots. You just drive around until you find one you like then stake your claim."

Wendy paid the fee we started driving around looking for a good spot. She passed up the first three sets of campsites and then turned into an area with a sign that said "Whispering Pines - Tent Camping Only." There was a nice place at the end of an oval drive, not far from the lake and with lots of trees.

"That one," I said, pointing.

"I agree," she said. "It's farther from the other sites, so even if partiers show up they shouldn't bother us."

Wendy parked and we unloaded all of our camping gear. It took us almost two hours to set up the camp. Neither one of us was all that familiar with my dad's six man cabin tent, but we finally got everything in place.

"Let's keep the food and the coolers in the truck just in case there are any animals looking for food. That way we won't lose our stash."

"Okay, that seems like a good idea. Hey, can I go down to the lake for a swim now or do you want to eat lunch first?"

"I could go for a dip to get cooled off after all this hard work, then we can eat."

We both went into the tent to get our swimsuits. I got mine out of my pack and stood up. She was holding what looked suspiciously like that bikini I'd seen her in, in that picture. There was an awkward silence. Then she broke it.

"Okay, we're both adults here, and we're camping, so there may be a little less modesty than there would normally be. No big deal, right? You turn your back and I'll change, then I'll turn my back for you. Deal?"

I turned my back so Wendy could change. I could hear her as she undressed. That rustling sound meant her clothes were coming off. I really wanted to turn my head a bit and get a glimpse of her naked, but the gentleman in me won out and I didn't peek. Besides, I was feeling pretty good for being included as an adult.

"All done, your turn."

I turned around and she was wearing that same bikini. When she faced away from me I slipped my t-shirt over my head and dropped my shorts. My underwear got caught up on my cock, which was rock hard because of that bikini and I wondered what I was going to do. It would make my baggy swim suit stick out like crazy. I slipped into my trunks and tried to get my cock to stay up, lying against my belly. I had to pull my trunks up too high, but it kind of worked.

"Problem?" she asked, not turning around.

"No," I gasped. I got my towel and put it in front of me. "Okay then, let's go."

I kept the towel pressed against my cock while we went down to the water. She glanced at me, but didn't say anything. She was kind of smiling and I was pretty sure I was busted.

Being in the water was better. I couldn't see her body anymore and the cold water eventually made me soften up. We splashed around in the water by the shore then we both decided to swim out to the floating dock moored about fifty yards out in the water. We climbed up the ladder and lay down to sun for a while. Wendy lay down on her stomach and untied her bikini top. From where I lay I could just see the sides of her breasts.

I was stiff again immediately of course, so I lay on my stomach too. It seemed rude to turn my head away from her, but if I looked at her my cock throbbed. The bottom of Wendy's suit also got my attention. The bottoms were cut high on the hip and showed a great deal of her butt cheeks. Across her naked back I could see nothing but tan which raised the question, did she tan in the nude? Just thinking about her naked body made my cock leak and I couldn't help moving around to kind of put pressure on it because that felt so good. I wanted to beat off in the worst way, but obviously that was out of the question.

Her eyes opened suddenly and looked into mine. "So, what are you thinking about?" she asked.

Her question caught me completely off guard. "Uh... well... I was... just daydreaming, that's all." My stomach growled.

Wendy smiled. "Hmmmm, I see. Well, what do you say that we head back and have some lunch?"

"It's kind of nice here," I said lamely. If I got up it was going to be obvious what I had been daydreaming about. Naturally my stomach growled again.

"I'm sure you're starved," she said. "I don't want you fainting on me. I don't think I could carry you all the way back to the campsite."

Wendy reached behind her and tied her top. She rolled off the dock into the water and started side stroking for shore, which gave me the opportunity to crawl to the edge and get in. I couldn't tell if she was looking at me or not, but when I looked down my baggy suit wasn't baggy any more, if you know what I mean.

Again, the water helped. It also helped that when she got to the shore she got out and jogged back to the campsite. When I got there she had put on a T shirt and was taking food out of the cooler.

After our late lunch she wanted to take a nap. I should have let her do that alone, because then I could have gone outside and found some place to beat off, but three in the morning is early for me too, so I stayed with her and took a nap too. After we woke up she suggested a hike. It was fun, and there were all kinds of interesting things to see. I was glad she walked behind me so I didn't have to watch her hips sway back and forth. At one point I turned and said "You know, Aunt Wendy, I really appreciate you taking your time to take me camping." She smiled.

"I'm glad to do it. Like I said, I miss it. I'm going to enjoy this as much as you do, trust me."

We walked for about two miles then returned to our campsite. I went to use the latrine and when I came back she was coming out of the tent. She was bent over and the shirt sagged away from her body. I realized she'd taken off the bikini top. She was braless! I could see almost all of both of her breasts and I about stopped breathing for a minute. She stood up and saw me staring, but once again I skated because all she did was smile at me.

We both worked on dinner together, though there wasn't much required. Wendy cooked some hamburgers and hot dogs on her portable gas grill and there were chips too. We downed them with sodas. It was very peaceful. While we'd seen a couple of other folks setting up tents, there wasn't another camper within a hundred yards of our site.

While we were cleaning up she said, "Tell you what Bobby, why don't you go over to the showers and get ready for bed while I clean up the dishes, then I'll take my shower, okay?"

"Sure."

I went into the tent and got my soap and towel and toothbrush and walked the 50 or so yards to the large cement block bathroom and shower facility. The men's side was basically one large room with four washbasins mounted on the left wall. Across from them were two urinals and a couple of stalls. At the end of the room was an open space with a shower head sprouting from each of the three walls. I brushed my teeth and took a shower. I wanted to beat off, but was afraid somebody else might come in. I kept thinking about those other tents up the road.

When I walked out, Aunt Wendy was just walking up, holding her stuff.

"You take long showers," she said, smiling.

"Sorry," I said. It was dark, and I hadn't realized I'd spent that much time in there.

"Wait for me," she said.

"What?"

"It got dark quicker than I thought it would, and I can't find my flashlight," she said. "I don't want to be here alone or walk back alone in the dark."

"Oh ... sure. No problem," I said.

She went in the women's side and I saw the light go on.

It wasn't until I heard the water splashing that I thought about peeking. I know I shouldn't have, but it was suddenly impossible not to. I looked around to see if anybody was headed our way. It was dark, but I could see the road and there was nobody on it.

So I kind of inched my way to the doorway into the women's side. At first I darted my head past the edge and right back, in case she was looking my way. I didn't know what I'd say if she saw me, but I couldn't resist. She wasn't facing me, though. She had her side to me and was bent over.

I pushed my head so that one eye could see and felt my cock balloon in my gym shorts, which is what I had brought to sleep in. Man was she gorgeous. Her breasts were hanging down and they were fantastic. Then she stood up and raised her arms up to wash her hair. Her breasts were high and firm, with no hint of sag like I sometimes saw in the contraband Playboys that were hidden in various gym lockers at school. Her waist looked impossibly skinny. I could see her ribs at the bottom of her rib cage. But her butt was so round and full. If her tits had been smaller she might have looked funny, but everything was perfectly proportioned. She turned under the water to let it rinse her hair from the back and I got a quick glimpse that registered as a lack of color change where I expected to see pussy hair. It happened so fast, and I was looking with only one eye. I wondered if she shaved, and my cock leaked at the thought.

I suddenly realized I had the perfect opportunity to beat off and stuck my hand in my shorts. I had just taken three or four strokes when she turned toward the door and called out.

"Just a minute longer, Bobby. Don't go anywhere!"

I jerked back and stopped beating off, scared that she'd seen me.

It was a sound that made me peek again. I heard a kind of soft moan, like she was in pain. And when I peeked around the corner, she had her legs spread, was leaned backwards and positioned so that the water was hitting her belly and groin. Her hand was also between her legs and I had the insane thought that I could barely see her middle finger sliding in and out of her pussy. But that hand was moving so fast it was impossible to tell. She suddenly stood up and then leaned forward, her wet hair hanging down. She froze and groaned and that was when I realized she had just masturbated.

I was amazed ... shocked ... astounded ... call it whatever you want. But it had never occurred to me that girls did it too. I mean I knew it was theoretically possible, and that women did it on the internet and all that, but that was like the movies ... not real ... wasn't it? And the idea that a woman I knew did that kind of thing just blew me away.

Which was why I failed to finish beating off myself. Then I heard the water go off, and it was too late because she was telling me about how she was almost ready and that she would only be a second. I barely got back outside where I was supposed to have been the whole time before she came out with her towel wrapped around her head. She was wearing a long T shirt and even in the dark I could see her nipples poking through it.

I was in deep, deep trouble, and I knew it. I was going to have to find a reason to get away long enough to pump the spooge out of my balls or I'd never get to sleep.

She had planned S'mores. She made a small fire in the fire pit and we sat opposite each other, roasting the marshmallows on coat hangers that had been straightened. She sat on a log with her knees together and her feet to one side, like women sit when they're being modest. But her shirt rode up a long ways and the light was yellow and soft on her thighs. I tried not to stare at her boobs while she combed her damp hair out with her fingers. At least the nipples weren't poking out so much at this time. But I was still mostly hard, and my balls were starting to ache.

We ate the S'mores and she stood up. "You ready for bed, Bobby?"

I almost said I was ready to beat off. It was all I could think about.

"We could stay up and tell ghost stories," she suggested.

That was all I needed, more time to look at her and dream about her naked body.

"No, let's save that for another night," I said.

"Okay then," she said. "We'll get up bright and early, have breakfast, and then go check out the falls."

"Great," I said.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Fifteen minutes later I was still horny, still hard, and still awake. The fire had died down, and the only light in the area was from a street light way down the road that just made the tent fabric light enough that you could see if you tried hard. I hadn't heard anything from Wendy for a while, so I pushed my shorts down and started slowly stroking my cock. I couldn't wait to spunk out. I was thinking about how she looked in the shower, and wondering if any other man had ever seen her like that ... maybe even taken showers with her. And all that other stuff I'd heard about, of course.

"Bobby? I know what you're doing." She spoke suddenly and softly.

I felt like I'd been caught trying to drown a kitten. I quickly stopped and pulled up the sleeping bag. "Um ... I ... " I had no freaking idea what to say. Finally it came out unplanned. "Shit." I finished softly.

She laughed! It was the thing I was most unprepared for.

 

That was a preview of Campground Awakening. To read the rest purchase the book.

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