La Tienda de la Que Nunca Salimos

CATEGORIES: [Sensual sex, Tent, Just the Two of Us, Hiking, First Date]

The zipper of the tent sounded like a gunshot in the quiet mountain air. I froze, my hand still on the pull, and looked at the woman kneeling on the sleeping bag inside. Lena. Ten years since I’d last seen her, and she’d gone from the girl who sat behind me in biology class to this — all tan skin and dirty blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail, her top clinging to her in the humid night air.

“You coming in or are you going to stand there gawking?” she asked, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

I ducked inside and pulled the door shut behind me. The tent was small, intimate, the air already thick with the smell of pine and her perfume. Our sleeping bags were laid out side by side, close enough that the edges touched.

“I was just… remembering,” I said.

“Remembering what?”

“That time in the storage closet. Senior year. You were looking for the soccer balls and I was looking for you.”

She laughed, a low, husky sound that sent a jolt straight to my cock. “You were looking for the soccer balls, Mark. And you found them. You were too nervous to even look at me.”

“I was not.”

“You were.” She shifted, propping herself up on one elbow. The movement pulled her shirt tight across her breasts. “You dropped one and it rolled right between my legs. You turned the color of a tomato.”

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks again, just thinking about it. “I was eighteen. I didn’t know what to do with my hands.”

“¿Y ahora?”

The question hung in the air between us, heavy and electric. Her eyes met mine, unblinking. The tent felt suddenly smaller, the air thinner.

“Now I know exactly what I want to do with them.”

She didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Just watched me as I leaned over, my hand finding the curve of her hip. Her skin was warm through the thin fabric of her shorts. She let out a soft breath that turned into a sigh as I pulled her closer.

“I thought about you,” she whispered. “Out here on the trail. All day. Every time you looked back at me, I was thinking about what it would feel like if you just… stopped walking and pinned me against a tree.”

“That’s a very specific fantasy.”

“I have a lot of time to think on hikes.”

I kissed her. Not gently — she didn’t want gentle. It was hungry and deep, my tongue sliding against hers, tasting the salt of sweat and the sweetness of the trail mix she’d been snacking on. Her hands came up, tangled in my hair, pulling me closer.

“Mark,” she breathed against my lips. “I want you to fuck me. Right now. In this tent.”

My cock was already straining against my jeans, hard and aching. I reached down, unzipped, pushed them to my knees. She was faster — her shorts were off in seconds, revealing a scrap of black panties that were already damp.

“God, Lena,” I muttered, my thumb tracing the outline of her through the fabric. “You’re so wet.”

“I’ve been wet since we passed the waterfall,” she admitted, her voice breaking slightly. “You don’t know what you did to me, walking ahead of me like that. Your ass in those hiking pants.”

I pushed her panties aside and slid two fingers inside her. She was so slick, so hot, her inner muscles clenching around me as she gasped. Her back arched, pushing her tits against the thin cotton of her top.

“More,” she demanded. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

I pulled my fingers out and positioned myself at her entrance, looking into her eyes. The only light came from the moon filtering through the tent fabric, casting everything in a silver glow.

“You sure?”

“Mark. If you don’t put your cock inside me right now, I’m going to scream so loud the whole campsite hears.”

I pushed inside her in one slow, thick stroke. She let out a breathless moan, her eyes rolling back as she wrapped her legs around my waist. Her pussy was tight, gripping me like a fist, pulling me deeper.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” I groaned, my forehead dropping to hers.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Don’t you dare stop.”

I began to move, slow at first, drawing out every inch before pushing back in. Her hips met mine, matching my rhythm, her nails digging into my shoulders through my shirt. The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the tent, mixing with her soft pants and my ragged breathing.

“Harder,” she begged. “Please, Mark. Harder.”

I grabbed her hips and drove into her, deep and rough, the way she wanted. Her moans grew louder, less controlled, until she was practically shouting.

“Oh God, right there, don’t stop, don’t stop…”

I could feel myself on the edge, the heat building at the base of my spine. I reached between us and found her clit, swollen and slick, and rubbed her in tight circles. Her whole body shuddered.

“I’m going to come,” she gasped. “I’m going to come so hard.”

—Hazlo —gruñí—. Córrete en mi polla.

She screamed as she climaxed, her pussy clamping down on me so hard I saw stars. The sensation pushed me over the edge, and I came inside her with a deep, guttural groan, my body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through me.

We collapsed onto the sleeping bag, tangled in each other, breathing hard. The tent was silent except for our ragged breaths and the distant sound of wind in the trees.

“Well,” she said eventually, a lazy smile spreading across her face. “That was better than the storage closet.”

“We didn’t do anything in the storage closet.”

“Exactly.”

I kissed her forehead, still trying to catch my breath. “We should do this again.”

“We have three more nights on this trail.”

“I meant every night after that, too.”

She looked at me, her eyes soft in the moonlight. Then she reached down and wrapped her hand around my semi-hard cock.

“We’ll see about that. But first…”

I didn’t let her finish. I pulled her on top of me, feeling her warmth settle over my hips, and let her take the lead this time. The tent swayed gently under the weight of our movements, and I knew I’d never look at a hiking trip the same way again.