The Storm in Tent Seven

The rain hit the canvas like a thousand impatient fingers, and I was already regretting every life choice that led me to this mountainside. Then the zipper of my tent ripped open, and a soaking-wet woman with furious green eyes and a dripping ponytail stuck her head inside.

"Your tent's the only one still standing," she said, water streaming down her freckled cheeks. "Mine collapsed. I'm Maya. You're letting me in."

It wasn't a question. She was already crawling inside, her thin hiking shirt plastered to her skin, every curve outlined like a dare. She peeled it off without ceremony, revealing a black sports bra and the kind of body that made my brain short-circuit.

"Don't just stare, asshole. I'm freezing." She shivered, her nipples hardening into visible points against the damp fabric. "Got anything dry?"

I tossed her my spare flannel. She caught it, sniffed it, and pulled it on without buttoning it. The hem barely reached her thighs. Rain hammered the tent as she wrung out her ponytail with a practiced twist.

"Maya," I said, finally finding my voice. "I'm Jake."

"Nice to meet you, Jake." She settled onto my sleeping bag, close enough that I could smell the rain on her skin, the faint sweetness of her shampoo underneath. "So what's the plan? We wait out the storm, or do you have something better in mind?"

My mouth went dry. "Depends what you're offering."

She laughed, low and dirty. "Depends what you've got."

The space between us felt electric. She leaned forward, and the flannel fell open, giving me a view of her stomach, the soft curve of her breasts at the edges of the bra. Her hand found my thigh, fingers trailing upward.

"Been alone on this trail for three days," she murmured. "I'm so fucking horny I could climb a tree."

"I'm not a tree."

"No." She squeezed. "You're not."

Her mouth found mine before I could think. She tasted like rain and mint, and she kissed like she was starving, one hand fisting in my hair while the other worked my belt loose. I groaned against her lips as she freed my cock, her fingers wrapping around the base.

"Jesus," she breathed, stroking me slow. "That's a handful."

"Two, if you're lucky."

She snorted, then lowered her head. But I caught her chin, tilting her face up.

"Not yet," I said. "I want to see you first."

I eased the flannel off her shoulders, then unhooked her bra, letting it fall. Her tits were perfect — full, pale, with dusky pink nipples already tight. She watched me look, a smug little smile on her lips.

"Like what you see?"

I answered by pulling her onto me, her legs straddling my hips. The thin fabric of her hiking shorts was soaked through, and I could feel the heat of her through it. She ground against me, a low moan escaping her throat.

"These need to go," I said, tugging at the waistband.

She stood on her knees long enough to shove them down, panties following, and then she was bare — wet, ready, her pussy glistening in the dim tent light. She reached between us, guiding my cock to her entrance.

"Ready?" she whispered.

I grabbed her hips. "Fuck yes."

She sank down in one slow, agonizing motion, and we both gasped. She was so tight, so wet, and the way she clenched around me made my vision blur. She started to move, a slow roll of her hips that had me gripping the sleeping bag beneath us.

"God, you feel good," she breathed, leaning forward, her tits brushing my chest. "So deep."

"Ride me," I said, my voice rough. "Take what you want."

She did. She picked up the pace, her thighs flexing, her head thrown back. The tent swayed with us, rain pounding overhead like applause. Her moans grew sharper, more desperate.

"Fuck, Jake — right there — don't stop—"

I arched up into her, hitting that spot, and she cried out, her nails digging into my shoulders. Her orgasm rippled around me, hot and clenching, and she collapsed onto my chest, trembling.

But I wasn't done. I flipped us, pressing her into the sleeping bag, and she let out a surprised laugh that turned into a moan as I drove into her from behind. Her ass was perfect, round and pale, and I slapped it once — she gasped, then pushed back against me.

"Again," she demanded.

I obliged, spanking her hard enough to leave a pink mark, then grabbed her hips and fucked her proper, deep and rough, the sound of our bodies slapping together drowned by the storm. She was a mess beneath me, moaning into the damp fabric, her fingers curling into the ground.

"I'm close," she gasped. "Don't stop — fill me up —"

Her second orgasm hit like a wave, her whole body shuddering, and that was it — I buried myself to the hilt and came with a guttural groan, hot and deep inside her.

We lay there, panting, tangled in each other and the ruined sleeping bag. The rain had softened to a steady patter. Maya turned her head, a lazy smile on her lips.

"Best hiking trip ever."

I laughed, pulling her close. "I didn't even get your last name."

"Good." She nestled into my chest. "Keeps the mystery alive."

Outside, the storm faded. Inside, we held each other, skin to skin, strangers no longer.

CATEGORIES: [Hot chick, Tent, Stranger, Outdoor fucking, Rough sex]