Chapter 12: Camping

Helen had in the past told me her dad got up very early. I think she called it ‘with the chickens.’ I took a chance and called, reaching him while he was drinking his coffee. He said, “Sure, she can go. And Dorothy and I appreciate all you do for Helen.”

“It’s not an issue. She is a real joy,” I said, trying my best to sound like an adult. One who didn’t find their daughter hot and sexy.

“Well, if she gives you any problems, feel free to send her home,” Helen’s dad stated.

“I will, but I don’t expect any problems. And I’ll be sure to be safe and make sure nothing bad happens to her. And who knows, she may even learn a few things.” I said before the rest of the obligatory conversation, before getting off the phone.

I looked at the clock on the microwave, and 5:43 was displayed. The two horny teenage girls hadn’t taken my advice and had gone to bed and straight to sleep. No, I heard their giggling, grunting, and moaning out “Fuck, I’m cumming” at least three times between two-twenty and two-thirty AM. First, it was Cheryl, but Helen soon followed. I missed my full-length mirror letting me watch the girls play with each other’s tits and pussies. Licking and sucking on nipples, labia, and clits bringing their partners to climax over and over.

Putting my hot coffee down, it was my turn to wake Cheryl. I, though, wouldn’t be crawling into her bed naked. Helen was there, and I had just assured her father that nothing bad would happen to her. And I couldn’t help but think that my being naked and getting into bed with his daughter, who was also likely naked, wouldn’t be seen as anything other than a bad thing.

I put my head in the empty door frame of Cheryl’s room. I had been right about Helen being naked. Both she and Cheryl were nude. And unlike the other times, they were not curled up together. It was a bit lewder than that. The two had evidently fallen asleep in the middle of sex. Sixty-nine sex to be exact. Helen’s ass was clearly visible as one leg was thrown over Cheryl’s chest. Her bald, cunt lips were just about touching Cheryl’s chin. Her head was using Cheryl’s thigh as a pillow, and her hand was under it, hugging her lover’s leg. Cheryl’s legs were spread wide, and Helen’s exhaled breath likely had blown over the clit and blond curls, not inches from her lips.

I could have embarrassed the two by staying with my head in the doorway and waking them up. While Helen would have been mortified, I’m not sure how Cheryl would’ve reacted. Not finding out, I went to the entrance of the kitchen and yelled, “Get up, girls. It’s time to get moving. We’re burning daylight.”

Cheryl must have looked out her window before answering groggily. “John, it is still dark out.”

“So I already have Helen’s dad’s approval to go camping. So up and at them. Or do you not want to go?”

I could only hear the grousing of the two young women, not the actual words, before Cheryl hollered back, “Fine, we’re getting up.”

“Coffee is ready when you are. Breakfast will also be, but get a move on it.” I said back, going to the refrigerator and getting eggs. Cheryl and Helen looked like wrecks when they came in for breakfast. Their eyes had bags under them and were slightly bloodshot from a lack of sleep. And blonde and brunette hair was sticking out every which direction and in their faces as they sat down at the table. I only got cavewoman grunts from them after I said, “Just eat and wash your dishes in the sink. I am going to go pack what I think I’ll need for the next couple of days. You two should do the same when finished.”

As the sun actually started to rise, Helen and Cheryl met me at the beginning of the trail in the back of the house. They looked more alive, but not their usual perky selves. The pack on Cheryl’s back pulled my white ‘Pink Floyd at Carnegie Hall’ t-shirts tight across her chest, revealing she was not wearing anything under it. Her puffed nipples pushed on the embossed cotton fabric, making small cones on her perky tits. But Cheryl wasn’t the only one without anything under a t-shirt borrowed from my drawer. Helen’s tits, which had gotten to the same size as Cheryl’s, were making similar cones in my ‘KISS’ t-shirt. But not having the same amount of logo hiding her nipples, the locations of the edges of her areolas were prevalent. And her nipples were harder, more like eraser points in the middle of the cones. I did my best to not stare at the pair of luscious tits, not that the girls would have minded or likely noticed being so tired.

They trudged to the lake but managed to not complain or grouse the whole morning hike. Seeing the lake livened them up. It didn’t make them any more observant. Helen evidently thought she’d dragged Cheryl to a place where I couldn’t see them. She missed the fact that I was moving around. Two steps towards the lake, and they were completely visible when I came back. The nubile bodies that were supposed to be getting into their bathing suits took a detour. They detoured into holding and stroking each other’s nude bodies. Their hands went around the curves of their bared asses and exposed tits. Lips were on lips and necks. Moans of pleasure emanated from them as caresses turned to squeezes and pinching. And even when Cheryl could see I was watching, she smiled at me, sliding a hand between their pelvises and stroking along Helen’s pink, fine pedals.

When I looked away for a second, going back to finding stones for a fire pit, did Cheryl say just loud enough for me to hear, “We better stop or I’ll have you moaning like a bitch in heat. And we’re here for swimming, I can enjoy you tonight.”

I wish I could’ve heard Helen’s response. Whatever it was, Cheryl gripped the girl tight, mashing their chests together. Her hand on Helen’s ass pressed their pussies tightly together. She humped a few times, and then, with a deep tongue-laden kiss, parted from the brunette and started putting her swimsuit on. Helen’s gorgeous body stood motionless for a minute with a look of bliss on her face before she too bent over, showing me both her holes. It was purely by mistake, but it was a mistake I enjoyed.

In identical swimsuits and with almost identical bodies, they bound down to the water. I called out after them, “No going in past chest-high unless I’m in the water.”

Only Helen complained, “But I’m a good swimmer.”

“That is the rule until both of you can act as the lifeguard for the other,” I stated. “Meaning Helen, you have lessons also.”

Before she argued with me, Cheryl pulled her over and whispered in her ear. After which, she smiled and said, back, “OK.”

Right after Helen had agreed, Cheryl splashed her in the face playfully, “Slut.” I could only guess my teaching her CPR was the reason for both girls’ reactions.

I walked into the chilly water, after truly going where the two couldn’t see me, to put on the swim trunks. Once in the lake water, the two teens pounced. They dunked, splashed, and copped feels the whole time, all under the guise of dunking or recovering from being dunked. I was a bit taken aback that Helen was groping me much more than Cheryl. But when I thought about it, in the past, Cheryl had spent close to a full twenty-four hours on and off with me, when both of us were completely naked and in each other’s arms. I guess Helen was making up for the lost time and differing circumstances.

An hour later, it was down to the business of teaching the two young women. I again held Cheryl afloat, feeling her firm body under the sleek suit, while I had her blowing bubbles. I can’t say she did it on purpose, but Cheryl’s sudden kicking moved her forward. Before I knew it, my hand was cupped around her covered cunt, my fingers between her kicking thighs. Her active kicking slowed once my hand enveloped her covered slit.

I worked on her stroke and had her swim in circles around me. At the same time, I started working with Helen, having her tread water as Cheryl swam in circles. I worked the girls hard while playing with them. They were both dragging when they walked up the shoreline. Their chests raised and lowered as they huffed, flopping down on towels, spread-eagle looking at the sun.

“I thought swimming was supposed to be fun,” Cheryl said to the sky.

“Yeah, I don’t think my legs are ever gonna be the same. Who knew just treading water could be so hard?” Helen stated.

Feeling fine, as I hadn’t spent the whole night before licking a likely sweet-tasting pussy slit, I said, “You two can rest for a few, but there is still a lot that needs to be done.”

“Give us fifteen minutes, and after lunch, we’ll get to whatever it is we need to do,” Cheryl said.

“OK, but be aware we have limited food and only three canteens of water,” I informed her. (Everybody carrying around a water bottle wasn’t a thing in 1980.) The two just groaned.

When they finally stood in front of me in their skintight blue suits, showing off their every curve, I gave them a shortlist of what they should get accomplished before we got back to swimming. They complained for a second before asking, “So what do we use to secure the lean-to’s, and what do we use for the roofs?”

Pulling the hatchets from the sides of their packs, I handed them to them. “You cut evergreen limbs and secure them with vines. There are plenty of both around here. Do you know what poison ivy and poison oak look like so you don’t get into them?”

Not happy with my questioning her knowledge after giving her a bunch of work she didn’t want to do, Cheryl put on her teenage girl’s haughtiness, “Of course we do. We’re not stupid.”

“Good to know, though; I never thought so until that statement,” I said. “I’m going to go see if I can catch a couple of fish before I build my shelter.”

Meekly and after being elbowed in the ribs by Helen, Cheryl eeked out, “Sorry, about being bitchy.” She continued when Helen elbowed her again. “I thought we were all staying together under one shelter.”

“Nope, I’ll sleep over there,” I said, pointing across the circular rock. fire pit’s location. “I’ll build it later, but first I’m going to try and catch tonight’s dinner.”

We went our separate ways, meeting up two hours later. I had caught enough fish for dinner, and the two women had made a rickety shelter. The nicest thing I could think of to say about it was that it wouldn’t hurt them if it fell. But, of course, I kept that to myself. Having done as asked, I asked, “Are you ready for more water fun?”

They didn’t answer. They bolted to the water, feet and legs splashing as they entered. I followed shortly behind them, staring at their cute, tight round butts. Their ass cheeks jiggled only slightly as they went up and down while they ran. I quickly dove in while their backs were still to me, getting my tent-raising dick under the water before they saw the big top fully constructed.

Again, we splashed and dunked each other. I added, tossing their light bodies five or more feet away from me as they climbed on me. And with Cheryl not likely to drown, the instant she got to where she couldn’t stand, I started cannonball tosses. They loved flying through the air while balled up. I like that my hand was on their thinly covered asses most of the time and at the base of their pussies at others. They acted like they didn’t notice my hand was separated from their bare sexes by a thin layer of spandex, and I acted like I didn’t notice that the fabric got hotter and slightly slicker as the number of launches increased.

Finally, getting back to swimming, we played ‘Sharks and Minnows’, but Helen and I could only do backstroke, and Cheryl was limited to freestyle. The game was good training for both of them, and I didn’t look like a slave driver. After a while, I did turn into a slave driver again, having Helen tread water and Cheryl practice her three strokes going fifty meters or so back and forth for what would have been one hundred laps of a regular pool.

For the second time that day, the fine-looking young women with their long, wet hair slicked back looked radiant as they exited the lake. They held hands, pulling each other out of the water. It looked sweet to see the two helping each other out. And when they again flopped on with their legs spread wide, their hands stayed attached. I swam a bit longer, enjoying the solitude. But getting out, I couldn’t help but notice the gentle cameltoes between each of their legs.

Avoiding the urge to move the fabric covering the plum pussy flesh and putting my face in it, I quickly changed. I also left to find the branches needed to build a sleeping structure. I built it big enough for three, knowing at some point before we were back at home, one or both of them would end up under the roof. And they would do so even if I discouraged it.

After the two had rested for an hour, I told them, “Change out of your suits, and I need you two to clean the fish for dinner.”

Neither of the girls had the first idea of what was involved in cleaning fish. They were completely grossed out as I showed them how to scale and clean the bluegill and gut the trout. I thought Helen was going to throw up when I cut their heads off. She said, “That’s so mean. I can’t do that.”

“Then I guess you don’t want to eat,” I said, not arguing with the teen. I had to go find the right-sized pine branch to turn into a water filter. It was something I learned in my survival training and would show the two young ladies. How, with two plastic Coke bottles and a branch, you could make your own drinkable water.

When I returned, I saw Helen cutting the head of the fish like she’d been doing it for years. They had done a good job preparing the food, and after cooking it over a fire I had made, we had more than enough for dinner. They lay back in the t-shirts they’d worn during the hike, rubbing their stomachs, each belching, and saying, “I’m so full.”

I couldn’t help saying, “Nice, so ladylike.”

Doing her best ‘Blazing Saddles’ imitation, Cheryl lifted a cheek and farted loudly, “That’s us. Ladies through and through.”

I had to then explain to Helen that we were like bears in the woods, but we dig holes first and cover them after. She was slightly embarrassed by the whole conversation. But I warned her, “Best take care of that before the sun goes down. There’s no telling what is in these woods that roam around at night.”

Later that evening, we watched the sun go down over the lake in a brilliant display of reds, oranges, yellows, and purples. The two girls sat with Cheryl curled around Helen from behind, watching the sun slowly disappear under the horizon. With the sun gone and only the fire and moon to light the camp, the two got more frisky. I don’t think Helen realized I could see Cheryl’s hands stroking her stomach and drifting down into her pants. I’m pretty sure Cheryl didn’t care if I saw.

And despite Cheryl’s hand and fingers on her pussy, Helen still managed to tell a ghost story without missing a beat or gasping when it was her turn. The stories got crazier as the night went on, as did Cheryl’s stroking of Helen’s slit and fingering of her clit. Only a couple of times did Helen fall back limp into Cheryl, her chest heaving and breathing heavily, but no other signs of her climaxing were noticeable. Cheryl was playing the girl masterfully, not actually having her climax completely, only dipping her toes into the climax waters. By the time it was time for bed, Helen was a raw nerve, by the way she squirmed with each stroke along her cunt’s split.

Helen and Cheryl climbed into a sleeping bag they made twice as big by zipping their individual bags together. They both would have fit in the single with a little room to spare. But it would’ve limited their extracurricular activities. In the firelight, I saw the movement of their sleeping bag and the discarding of two t-shirts and two pairs of shorts with panties still in them. The moaning and the smack of kissing could be heard over the crackle of the fire.

It took no time before Helen cried out, “Oh God.” She was still humping at what I assumed was Cheryl’s face as her feet were hanging out of the sleeping bag’s opening. Helen only whined, biting on the edge of the dark bag, from that point until Cheryl’s head was once again visible and she kissed a panting Helen.

I wanted to tell them to knock it off; they were making me horny as hell, but I didn’t, even when Helen dipped out of sight. It was Cheryl’s turn to hump at the face attached to the feet sticking out of the bag. The bag rustled and moved with Cheryl’s thrusts upward, and the head deep in the bag. Cheryl was quieter when she climaxed but much more verbose. She quietly huffed, “Yeah, there ... Oh shit ... Oh yeah, your tongue ... Oh god, cumming, ... Ahh.” Her beating her fist on the ground was also heard, as was the “No more ... too much.” Her humping and squirming were accompanied by a look of agony mixed with ecstasy. The dancing shadows of the fire on her face made it look seriously intense.

Helen finally reappeared, and like Cheryl, she immediately started kissing and rolling around with her partner. The makeout session lasted ten more minutes before they were fast asleep. Their rhythmic breathing and lack of sexual activity made me sure they were out. To verify my conclusion, I quietly asked, “Cheryl, do you want to make love now?”

The lack of a blonde’s cunt immediately wrapping around my hard cock confirmed she was truly asleep. And not hearing any reaction from Helen meant she was also. Both being deeply asleep was good. The day and their not-so-subtle sexual escapes had me hard and horny, and neither was going away. Sure, the two nude girls that were curled around each other weren’t going to awaken, so I started stroking my cock. The memories of Cheryl’s slit sliding along my shaft and the feel of Helen’s hot, plump pussy lips beneath her swimsuit powered my stroking.

I felt the cum welling up, and the images in my head and memories of the silken slit sliding along my hard shaft as my hand was doing were fueling the release. I was past the point of stopping but didn’t want any spunk left where it could be accidentally found by the teens. Before the jets shot from my rock-hard dick, I climbed out of my sleeping bag on shaky legs with shorts around my knees. I stood before the fire, and three strokes later, with the two girls not ten feet away, cum was jettisoned from my cock head. The arc of the spunk had it land and sizzle in the fire. Four more powerful contractions had wads following the same path as the first. I arched my back, looking at the star-filled sky, as the memories and current sensations soaked my mind in pleasure. The last of the cum dribbling from my cock was wiped clean and flung into the fire, as was the small bit of toilet paper used for the final wipedown.