Sketches in the Storm

The rain hammered the nylon roof like a thousand impatient fingers while lightning cracked the sky. Inside the tiny two-person tent, every breath felt charged. I’d been sketching Lena for an hour, her lithe body stretched across the sleeping bag in nothing but damp panties, and the ache between my thighs had grown unbearable.

“You’re staring again, Maya,” Lena teased, her voice low and smoky. She shifted her hips, letting one knee fall open so the thin fabric clung to the outline of her pussy. “That charcoal going to capture how wet I’m getting, or do you need a closer look?”

My pencil froze. The air smelled of rain, sweat, and the faint musk already rising from her. I was supposed to be the artist, cool and professional. Instead my nipples strained against my tank top and my clit throbbed in time with the thunder.

“Put the sketchbook down,” she whispered, biting her lower lip. “Come here.”

I dropped the pad. In seconds my mouth was on hers, tongues sliding hot and urgent. Lena tasted like the wild berries we’d picked earlier. Her hands yanked my tank over my head, freeing my heavy breasts. She cupped them immediately, thumbs circling my stiff nipples until I moaned into her mouth.

“Fuck, your tits feel even better than they look,” she breathed, pinching just hard enough to make my back arch. I shoved her onto her back, peeling those soaked panties down her long legs. Her pussy was shaved smooth except for a neat little landing strip, lips already glistening. I dragged two fingers through her slit, spreading the slickness up to her swollen clit.

Lena gasped, hips bucking. “Yes… right there. Don’t tease, Maya. I’ve wanted your fingers inside me since the trailhead.”

I pushed two fingers deep into her tight heat. She was scorching, velvety walls clamping down as I curled them against that spongy spot. The wet, filthy sounds of my thrusting mixed with the rain. Lena’s head fell back, mouth open in a silent cry while her juices coated my hand.

I couldn’t wait any longer. I dropped between her thighs and licked a broad stripe up her pussy, savoring the tangy sweetness. My tongue flicked rapidly over her clit while I kept pumping my fingers. Lena’s hands fisted in my short hair, pulling me harder against her.

“Oh god… your tongue feels so fucking good,” she panted. “Suck my clit, baby. Make me come on your pretty face.”

I sealed my lips around the swollen bud and sucked hard, humming. Her thighs started to tremble. I added a third finger, stretching her open, fucking her faster. Lena’s moans turned into sharp cries that cut through the storm.

“I’m gonna—fuck, Maya—I’m coming!”

Her pussy spasmed wildly, gushing hot cream over my chin and fingers. I kept licking through every pulse until she shoved me away, oversensitive and laughing breathlessly.

“My turn,” she growled, eyes dark with lust. She pushed me onto all fours, yanking my hiking shorts and panties down in one rough tug. Cool air kissed my dripping pussy before her warm tongue replaced it. Lena licked me like she was starving, long strokes from clit to ass and back, then speared her tongue straight into my hole.

I cried out, pushing back against her face. “Deeper… eat my pussy, Lena. God, yes.”

She reached under me and rubbed my clit in tight circles while her tongue fucked in and out. The pressure built fast. When she slid two fingers into me from behind and curled them perfectly, I shattered. My orgasm ripped through me so hard my arms gave out; I collapsed onto my elbows, ass still high, pussy clenching and squirting a little onto her hand.

We didn’t stop. Lena spun me around, straddled my face, and lowered her soaked cunt to my waiting mouth. I licked and sucked while she ground down, smearing her juices across my lips and nose. At the same time she bent forward into a sixty-nine, sucking my clit between her soft lips and fingering me again.

The tent filled with the obscene sounds of wet flesh, desperate moans, and ragged breathing. I thrust two fingers back into her, matching her pace. We raced each other toward the edge, bodies slick with sweat despite the cool mountain air.

Lena came first this time, thighs locking around my head as she flooded my mouth. The taste and the vibration of her cry sent me over right after her. We shook together, tongues still working, fingers buried deep, riding the aftershocks until we were both whimpering.

Finally she rolled off, panting, and pulled me into her arms. Rain still drummed on the tent, but slower now. Lena kissed my forehead, then my swollen lips, tasting herself on me.

“Best hiking trip ever,” she murmured, voice husky. “Think you got enough sketches for your portfolio?”

I laughed softly, tracing lazy circles around her nipple. “I don’t know… we might need another session tomorrow. Just to be sure I captured every… detail.”

She grinned, already sliding her hand between my legs again. “Then you’d better keep your pencil sharp, artist.”