It was a blazing hot 4th of July and there was so way that either of us were ready to face the stifling heat in our tent. Betty and I were pretty full of ourselves that summer, 19 and 18 respectively and determined to be women of the world. We'd set off on that post-graduation (mine) camping trip with the full intention of showing the world and ourselves what liberated, take-the-world-by-its-balls women we were.
So far, from that point of view, the trip was a bust.
Don't get me wrong, best friends for years; we'd been having a wonderful time. But our unspoken goal of meeting guys and losing it with someone really incredibly wasn't making any progress. Looking back it's easy to see how naïve and foolish we were, but at the time, we knew it all.
That was why that evening as we hiked through the national park we were laughing and talking loudly as we shared our Southern Comfort. The camp was full, but the primitive sites were secluded so we weren't worried about disturbing anyone. We walked arm in arm, comfortable in our close friendship.
"Hey there girls... want to party?"
We heard it after we'd passed the campsite - barely even noticing that it was there. Stopping, Betty and I looked at each other and began to giggle.
"Probably a coupla ol' fart red necks," she whispered to me and I laughed uproariously at her comment. Amazing what a pint of bourbon can do on an empty stomach.
"What should we do?" I whispered back to her. At 19 and with one year of college already under her belt, I looked to Betty as the older and wiser of our pair. Besides - she'd lost her virginity way back in high school. I was positively retarded next to her.
She tugged at my hand; drawing me back towards the campsite we'd passed. "Let's at least get a good look at who's there!"
My heart raced as I stumbled after her. Peaking around the edge of a boulder, we spotted the campers who called us. Unbelievably there, sitting at the wooden picnic table were two gorgeous young guys. We looked at one another in disbelief and then Betty spoke up.
"Did you guys call us?"
The taller one of the two stood up and gestured at us. He had a full beard and moustache - just Betty's type and waved us towards him. "We did indeed - come share our wine."
I knew the accent in an instant. French Canadian! I was hooked. I was quite the linguist as a high school student - fluent in French and able to hold my own quite nicely in Spanish too. I'd planned to major in both languages in college. What a cool opportunity to be with some really hot guys - and practice my skills as well! Betty didn't have to tug twice to get me to follow her into the campsite.
She sat down immediately next to the tall bearded guy, which left me to sit on the other side of the table next to his quieter dark haired companion. Nervous and excited, I immediately started babbling to them in French, which made them laugh. I blushed and they reassured me that I was very good and filled a cup with the red wine they'd been drinking... I gulped it down and saw it refilled immediately.
We were drunk already, Betty and I, and full of a determination to show them how mature and worldly we were, neither of us resisted when first her guy and then mine slipped arms around our shoulders and began kissing us.
My head spun and I was sure it was with passion and not cheap red wine as only an 18-year-old girl can think.
Conversation evaporated into the humid night air as we began seriously making out with our two international lovers. They'd never lit a lantern as the sun went down and I couldn't even see Betty on the other side of the table. I could hear her though - obviously enjoying herself with her bearded hunk.
What's wrong with me? I thought. The guy's hands were on my full young breasts, kneading them harshly. It was the furthest I'd ever gone as I felt him untie my halter and slide his fingers underneath, squeezing my bare skin and tweaking my tender your nipples. Maybe I'm too drunk, I thought. That had to be it, because it wasn't feeling anything like what I had expected it too. I'd gotten more aroused from reading a steamy romance novel than from the feel of this strangers hand on my own flesh.
I gasped as his hand traveled down my belly, muscles convulsing instinctively at the touch. His mouth descended on mine again, filling me with the taste of cigarettes and wine and whatever the hell it was he'd had for dinner. Some shred of reason stirred within me and I started to push against him, trying to give him the idea that I wasn't into this as much as he was when his head slid into my hip hugger jeans and under my bikini panties.
Up to that point in time, (and not counting diapering which no one remembers anyway), no one's hand other than my own had come in contact with my pussy. To my shock and surprise, I realized that I was wet down there - and that he was feeling it too. I didn't know what to think. Was I more aroused than I'd thought? What would he think when he felt how hot and slick I was? Did I like it?
He didn't give me a chance to think, as his thick finger began to slide back and forth in my slit while his tongue plunged repeatedly deep into my mouth. Somewhere in my brain I realized that Betty was no longer sitting on the other side of the table and I wondered bizarrely if she'd gone off and left me. The situation was getting way beyond my control and my friend was nowhere around to rescue me.