My Joys of Self-Discovery

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My joys of Self-Discovery

A short story how one woman went camping with a group of friends, and discovered for herself things she wasn’t anticipating. The end result? She came away with a new boyfriend.


I grew up in a family that loved the outdoors, so it makes sense that I date men who are outdoor enthusiasts. The men I date must enjoy hiking, camping, stargazing… anything you could do outdoors. Yes, even sex in the wilderness must be great!
I honestly thought I had seen and experienced it all, but recently… well… I’m dating my new boyfriend not because of anything outrageous, but more so because of the way it happened.
Here’s how things played out.
I had been seeing a guy casually for the last month or two. We saw each other about once a week because of our schedules. He’s fun, attractive, and was good in bed. I was hoping for things to get serious, but was happy as we were going with the flow.
One weekend while he was away for work, a really good friend of mine invited me on a camping trip with some other mutual friends of ours. We’ve all known each other for a few years. Call it three years max. We spend a lot of time together because of our similar interests, especially in regards to the outdoors. They wanted to do some hikes we haven’t done before. It wasn’t far from home, so this was more like a short getaway rather than a full-on “set up base camp” expedition.
My friend purchased a new 4-person tent – only $40! – and thought it was a great time to try it out. He also brought two sleeping bags, a cooler, and other items needed because I haven’t invested in any kind of camping equipment for myself.
We arrived in good spirits at the location late in the morning. Needless to say, within an hour, everything was set up and good to go before we set off on one of our hikes. It was a warm-to-hot-ish kind of day. Even the flies were staying out of the heat.

The first signs of trouble for me appeared on the way back — my feet started swelling.

Let me take this opportunity to describe myself. I am in my prime and have a nice body. All the hiking and outdoor activity has kept me in great shape. I do have a flat tummy and my thighs are a little larger than average, but most of that is muscle. My eyes are a nice compliment to my medium-length hair and smile. My naturally pale skin tans pretty well due to all the time I spend outdoors, but usually it is limited to those areas exposed, like my arms and legs. I do stand tall or taller than the average woman with my hiking boots on. I might not be the latest super-model sweeping the internet, but most men wouldn’t kick me out of their bed either.
Back to my story.
With my feet swelling, we eventually ended our hike and my friend drove all of us back to our campsite. The campsite was more like a big open field. All sites unpowered. “Check in” time was around 2pm, so that’s when newbies tended to show up to claim the best spot they could. We were glad we got there early to pick out our spots before the masses arrived!
“Your ankle is really swollen. We should get it elevated,” he said as he helped me into our tent while our friends went to theirs.
“It’s no big deal,” I replied. “It will probably just ease its way into normalcy in short order.”
“Do we have any ice that hasn’t melted?” he asked.
“I dunno. Check the cooler. But seriously, it’s okay. No princess here. I’ll be all right.”
“Look,” he responded, “We didn’t come all this way to go hiking without you.”
“Okay,” I acquiesced.
I admit I was secretly loving the attention. He helped me lay down on my bag and got some pillows with which to elevate my swollen ankle. Then he went to our cooler, grabbed several cubes of ice, wrapped them in a towel, and held it on my ankle.
“Now you can massage my feet!” I said jokingly as friends do.
Before I could protest, he began rubbing my slightly sore soles. It felt so good that I decided to let him keep it up!
He was so tender, working the muscles all around. As he hit the pressure points on my soles, I couldn’t help but let out a moan of pleasure! What woman doesn’t love a good foot rub?
“You better behave yourself,” I blurted out.
“Ha ha. Yeah. Okay,” he said remarkably casually. “What do you want to do?”
“Sleep,” I said.
I saw him do a double-take. “Really? You wanna sleep? Are you joking? It’s too early. The sun’s still up.”
It was true, I had to concede to myself. It was probably around 5pm, but would start getting dark soon.
“What’s your story anyway?” he asked. “With your new guy?”
Now you have to understand I’m generally a private person, and don’t like to reveal too much about my personal life.
“We met while on a boat and now we’re kinda seeing each other.” It was the best I could muster.
“Hmmm… only kinda?” he said, letting the silence sit for a while, facing the tent’s door. “So… your turn.”
“What?” I heard our other friends giggling from their tent in a playful kind of way.
“Ask me something.”
“Like what?”
“Anything. Just ask me something.”
I turned over, looking in the direction where our friends put their tent. “Why did we set up so close to them?”
There were few people at the campsite. Most were probably out for the day doing their own hikes. Their absence simply amplified the playful kissing and other sounds associated with the foreplay not happening far away.
We both sat up to listen. Call us “audio pervs” if you want.

Tent Self-Discovery

The trip started innocently enough.

We giggled together, then he shrugged before talking in a lower volume. “I don’t know. I never thought to take into account that tents aren’t sound proof. How was I to know…”
“Know what?”
“Well, that they… would hook up so easily. Or have previously.”
“I guess we don’t know all their secrets.”
“I guess not.”
“Have you ever hooked up with any of your lady-friends?” I asked. Just because I am generally a private person doesn’t mean I don’t like to know about other’s lives.
“Not your turn.”
“Not your turn for a question. It’s my turn,” he said as a means of changing topic. “We haven’t seen you with your new man or met him yet. What gives?”
“We’re still getting to know each other. Early stages y’know. I need to make sure he’s not some crazy person or something. After all, you’ve heard some of my dating stories.”
“Yes. We all have. Those that we missed I’m sure we can just get the recap from your online blog at our convenience,” he said with his tease not going unnoticed. “So you said ‘kinda’. Are you two, like, seriously committed or still seeing others?” he followed up with.
I didn’t feel like letting on that we weren’t totally committed. We’ve only been able to see each other once, maybe twice a week. Impressions I thought. My turn to deflect.
“That’s two questions. Not your turn.”
“Touche,” he laughed. “Okay, forget the whose turn thing.” He paused slightly before continuing. “Good thing I brought two sleeping bags.”
“As anyone should or you would have been outside tonight.”
He laughed. “Whatever. You would enjoy sleeping on a nice, single, queen mattress right now.”
“Yes, I would. But that doesn’t include with you.” I clarified.
“Why not?”
“Come on. You’re not even slightly my type.”
“Not even a slightly true statement. Look at all the fun we have together.” His voice echoed a playful confidence. “How can we be friends if you can’t be honest with me?”
From there, we talked back and forth while munching on snacks. Family. Sports. Movies. Work history. Holidays. Camping experience. Time passed. Occasionally a small yelp or moan would come from our not-far-enough-away friends. It couldn’t go unnoticed.
“Well, she definitely likes sex,” I said.
Tent Self-Discovery

When his hand found the silent courage…

“Don’t all girls?”
“You don’t like sex?”
“Oh such a trick question. Whatever I say is wrong.”
He laughed. “See? We have at least one thing in common since I’m a man and everything I say is wrong too.”
I laughed at his sexist joke.
We stayed silent just a bit. It was darker now and the sounds of our friends, albeit a little more muted, were still sporadic.
“She sounds happy,” he whispered.
“She brought a lot of condoms,” I sighed.
“Hold on. A lot? How do you know that?”
“She told me she was going to pack some just in case, never knowing who she’d meet.”
“Seems to me that she already picked a stallion from the herd and was getting her saddle ready.” His eyes rolled. “Do you use them?” he asked me so casually.
“What are you talking about?”
“With your new man. Do you make him wear a raincoat or just let him in freely?”
“Don’t you think that’s kind of personal?” I scolded him without trying to sound too harsh. “Not like it’s any of your business.”
“Yes it is.”
“Oh really? How is that?” I seriously couldn’t wait to hear his answer.
“I haven’t figured out yet if you’re going to be the nicest girlfriend on my naughty list, or the naughtiest girlfriend on my nice list.”
Girlfriend? Huh? What? Was that subtle flirting? If it was, I was enjoying it. But you know how women tend to over analyze? That’s what my mind started doing. I wasn’t going to ruin the fun though.
“You’re at a nine buddy. I’m going to need you to bring it back to a three or I will ignore you so hard, you will start to doubt your own existence.”

Just as I finished, our friends let loose with more muffled moans of pleasure.

“Not with that going on,” he pointed out.
We both laughed again.
“I wonder who’s doing what to whom?” he asked.
“I’d say whatever was going on with that last moan it definitely involved him playing with her breasts.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because that’s the kind of moan a woman makes when her breasts are being played with.”
“How do you know?”
I just stared at him because of his ridiculous question. He got my point.
Time to take the lead with the flirting. “Because I have nice breasts and those are the kinds of moans I make when my guy is giving them proper attention.”
“Show me.” he said. It wasn’t a question.
“Wow. You’re being forward tonight. Feeling lucky inside this tent?”
“A little,” he said slyly.

That cocky confidence was getting to me, but I am semi-seeing someone.

“That’s too bad, because I’m not showing them to you.”
“So you don’t like them?”
“Oh no I do. But I have to be careful with what I wear around guys.”
“Really? Why?”
“Historic precedent. I get a lot of creepy guys hanging around me if I’m wearing any kind of revealing clothing.”
“Really?” he asked again, more intrigued this time. “I can’t tell right now. You didn’t exactly dress for show. In fact, as long as I’ve known you, I don’t think you ever have.”
“Exactly. Back in my younger years, like a lot of girls, I went to parties in shorts and tops that were a bit smaller than they should have been. That trying to get attention phase. I never realized how much of a stir it would cause. Guys were trying to get me drunk so they could touch or lord knows what else. I didn’t know how to handle it. One time when I had a boyfriend, he went through the roof when someone told him later. I said no one actually touched me, but he still got jealous and angry and all that.”
“Oh come on. You really want to say your breasts are so good they start fights?”
“Just being careful. Situationally-aware if you will.”
“I don’t think you have much to worry about here. It’s just me.”
“You still can’t see.”
“Why not?” he asked casually.
“Why not? Why do you think!”

“Because they might not be as good as you say they are,” the cocky bastard said smoothly.

I sat dumbfounded, not knowing what to say. I’m sure the silence gave him hope. He was right. What was the harm? Besides, I am proud of them.
“You can’t touch,” I relented.
“I don’t want to touch.”
“Yes you do,” I accused him playfully.

Tent Self-Discovery Kissing My Neck

T – H – I – S !

“No I don’t.”
“Are you sure?” I asked as I started removing my top.
“Absolutely. You’re not my type either.” he said in a smug tone.
“You can’t use the light on your phone though; nobody outside can see what we’re doing in here.”
“What would be the point of that if I can’t see clearly? It’s dark, and you don’t want me to touch, right?”
“I don’t want others to see what I’m doing.”
“See what? That you’re changing inside a tent on a campground??”
“Okay. okay.”
First my top came off, followed by my bra. I crawled into my sleeping bag. I made sure to emphasize those sounds so he didn’t get any more ideas.
He turned on his phone’s screen and pointed it my way. My shoulders were bare. He directed the light downwards, but my sleeping bag was covering my breasts.
“Oh, come on now,” he said lightly. “This is purely scientific. You’re getting the qualified opinion from a guy who knows whether your breasts are up to standard, or as you suggest, way above standard.”
“And exactly how are you qualified? I don’t recall seeing any such official documentation stating such claims.”
He was smooth with his retort:

There are some things better left to self-discovery.

It worked. I felt both my pulse and curiosity increase, along with an increase in my desire to please him. I don’t know why my body was betraying me.
“You can’t touch,” I reiterated.
He sat up straight. “Observation only. Agreed.”
I pulled the bag down to my waist, laying on my back, trying to scan his face for a reaction.
“Wow. Holy shit. They would start fights,” he admitted. As sure as I was that I would hear that, I was actually scared for a moment he wouldn’t have been impressed, and don’t know why I cared.
He continued.
“Just wow, there is something about them. They’re perfectly sized and shaped, in proportion with the rest of your body. Sit up?”
I sat up and let him ooogle as they hung freely for him to see in the chilly air. Somehow I knew he wouldn’t touch, and felt safe. But I was getting aroused at his obvious desire.

His eyes had a hungry look that any woman would recognize.

“Have you had enough? It’s cold, and I think we should get an early night so we’re not too tired at first light.”
Obviously by this point, nobody was concerned with dinner. To be honest, I wasn’t hungry with all the snacks we had eaten earlier. But it was seriously starting to go from chilly to cold. It’s amazing how fast the temperature drops in some places!
Surprisingly, he agreed. The phone was turned off. I finished changing, and he did likewise. Thank goodness the sleeping bags were insulated as I like to sleep mostly naked and didn’t have much on.
“How’s the bag?” he asked.
“It’s warming up.”
“Good. I’d hate for you to be in a situation where you had to ask me to join you.”
“I am seeing someone and would rather not get pregnant tonight, thank you.”
“Ah. So you don’t always use condoms…”
I let that comment hang. It was cold and quiet, except for the nighttime bugs. There were faint sounds of people talking from elsewhere in the campsite. One kid was screaming in the distance. Hats off to her father with the patience in his voice trying to get her to calm down.
Speaking of calm, I didn’t hear our friends any more. Hearing others having sex now would have made it worse. My arousal started to play on my mind with the possibilities. Like any other woman, I tend to think a lot. Or overthink a lot. I was wondering how tired my friend was and what was going on inside his head. Or if he was just being casual about our conversation and not thinking anything.
It looked like lightning flashed in the distance.
In the dark, in silence, ten minutes can feel like an hour. Especially for a woman’s mind that won’t shut up! Why do our minds get stuck on thoughts that we can’t shake?
I’m not sure how long it took, but my brain eventually let me sleep.

* * * * * * * *

Like some cruel twist of fate, I had to sneak out to pee. I rumbled through my belongings quietly for a jacket to put on, went out, and invariably bumped into his feet on the way back in, waking him enough to notice I was up.
“You were asleep,” he said in a sleepy voice, turning over to watch me get back into my sleeping bag from the flashes of lightning that were lighting up the nighttime sky.
“Sorry. I had to pee, it’s really cold, and it rained too. Not a good combination.”
Without even thinking, I hurriedly removed the jacket to get back in my sleeping bag. He would have noticed I was completely naked. It’s just easier for us women to go out that way so we don’t have to worry about pulling panties up or down.
Now he must have been wondering what his ‘permissions’ were since I just showed him my entire naked body.
Back in my sleeping bag, I put my panties on again. We laid in silence. I wondered what he was wondering again. I was shivering.
“You should have at least put a shirt on when you went outside.”

Tent Self-Discovery

OMG! What he was doing, my body couldn’t contain itself

I said nothing.
“We could zip the bags together,” he suggested, “They are from the same set. It’s possible to make a double out of them.”
“Oooohhhh kay kay kay,” my mouth let out in perfect sync with my chills.
It took all of about 5 minutes for him to get up, zip the necessary zippers together, and then get back in behind me.
One big bag now. He wrapped himself around me in a nice spoon.
Not surprisingly, it didn’t take long for me to warm up. I was feeling comfortable and safe in his arms.
And horny now too.
We were both topless. The position we were in amplified all the thoughts and dirty images of us I was having earlier. As you know, panties aren’t thick either, so I could easily feel him.

That’s when the most amazing thing happened

His hand found the silent courage to wander over my skin and pull me closer to his body. My skin seemed to crave the contact of a sweet and mellow moment that had no words — not even quick-witted twists or metaphors.
Then he planted one or two kisses on the back and sides of my neck that spoke volumes of sweetness. My body was reacting more than I anticipated.

Seriously ladies, what woman doesn’t like a man kissing the sensitive areas of her neck?

Instinctively, I’m sure he picked up on it because his hands explored every curve, nook, and cranny of my body, softly touching the most tender parts of my skin: on the bottoms of my arms, the crooks in the inner parts of my knees and elbows. He rubbed his thumbs in the joints and muscles of my hands, feet, and shoulder blades, making them feel relaxed, limp and flexible. I wanted to reach out to touch him, but his touches left me in a state of blissful submission.
The man behind me then moved to massaging my sensitive breasts which he had seen and ooogled over. Enjoying the sensation, but wanting more, I placed my hand on his and slowly guided it down my body to my pussy.

He knew what I needed better than I knew myself

His hands slid down the front of my panties and touched my vaginal lips.
He backed away and worked his hands over my legs again and parted them when he came to the top. His thumb and finger strokes toyed with the crease between my legs. My hips shifted, begging for attention, but he refused, even when I was sure he could feel that I was getting wet like someone just tossed a bucket of water on me.
“Please,” I muttered.
He paused before two fingers took their time to slide along my bare and engorged outer lips to make a brief pass over my clit.
I arched my back.
It was the most intense tingle I ever felt.

“My goodness,” he said. “You are responsive.”

He did it again
This time his finger circled my clit just a little bit longer, followed by delving a little bit deeper into my folds and stroked them up and down several times, making me purr and say, “Oh yes. Deeper.”
He complied.
I tried to keep my cries of passion silent as not to wake anyone else, but they kept building louder and longer.
His tickling and probing set off non-stop trembles like a series of aftershocks that set off and a constant stream from deep inside me. My legs felt like they were rattling. My mound pushed against his fingers demanding even more. I couldn’t stop silently screaming because there was no stopping this non-stop ticket to orgasmic bliss. Not even for a second. Not even at times when it seemed that I couldn’t catch my breath.
When it hit, it kept surging forward and I think it was one of the most intense orgasms I had ever had until that point.
When at last I came down from my high, I said, “I don’t know how you did that, but I want you to take me now.”
I rolled over and squirmed my body against his, frantically touching his penis through his undies and making out like I was a teenager again.

All I could think about was unleashing his member

I didn’t give a damn about the guy I was casually seeing back home.
With little effort, I shucked his undies down to his knees and he squirmed out of them while I helped him get my own off.
He then rolled me onto my back and kissed my nipples while I moaned and squirmed around beneath his body.

Tent Self-Discovery He slipped easily into me

That magical moment when someone new enters you for the first time

“You were right.” he said
“About what?” I was trying to line myself up with him.
“The moans you make when someone treats your tits right.”
I was about to reply when he held my arms down, kissed me, and slipped his cock slowly, surely, effortlessly inside me.
“Oh my god,” I said breaking the kiss. “That happened so easily.”
We started kissing again. I let the feeling of his cock wash over me. It was warm and smooth without a condom. I found myself pushing back up at his thrusts, giving my tongue to his mouth, encouraging him to go deeper and harder.
He was thrusting deep inside me and began shoving the entire weight of it into me in not too fast, not too slow, deliberate motions. It was a rhythm every woman knows and loves — that hits every spot required for the length of the stroke, to reach the pinnacle.

I wanted his cock to fuck me faster; he dictated otherwise.

His cock’s motions penetrated and stimulated places never before touched by anything, human or plastic.
Ladies, it went like this… every stroke brought that build sensation just a tad bit closer to the release point. The build up never subsided. It’s like his every thrust added just that tiny bit of more of the delicious build-sensation to it.
And that caused my second orgasm to build up so high I thought I was going to black out!
A low wail emerged from my lips and pretty soon I was letting out sounds of pleasure everyone would have heard had he not kissed me again.
When I was finally able to speak, I sternly told him to shoot his cum in me where it belongs.
That did it for him. I felt the frenzied squirting of his cock deep inside my pussy. It seemed to go on and on and on, and also intensified my post-orgasmic bliss.

There’s always something sensationally magical when feeling a new cock shoot inside you for the first time.

As we laid there, I couldn’t get over that it was the best sensual fuck I had had, and, far from feeling guilty, I wanted more.
Then there was a flash of light and crack of thunder. It was teeming with rain.
“That’s good,” he said sleepily as his hands slowly roamed over my back and sides. “Lightning in wet weather is safe.”
“Unless you want to go stand under a tree.”
I couldn’t see much in the sky with the intense rain and cloud over, so it was difficult to tell the time. I had to get my watch.

Tent Self-Discovery Him Entering Me From Behind

The second time he took me from behind as we looked out and watched the rain

“Wow. It’s early”, I said as I snuggled back to him.
Once there, we watched the rain for a bit before we started making out again. His cock easily slipped back into me as the rain continued pouring outside. I could hear it splashing off the ground, the leaves, our tent…
I had suggested we do an about face so we could watch the rain as we made love.
We shuffled around so my head was at the entrance, laying on my stomach. He tied one side of the flap up so we could see out. None of the other tents faced us, and no one was likely to come out with it still semi-dark and pouring so heavily; it was safe to show our faces.
He pushed his cock back into me from behind.
“Mmmmm,” I smiled. That feeling of a guy entering me again for round two, while holding me firm so I couldn’t move. It was dreamy to watch the rain fall outside in the wilderness with his bare cock carving slowly in and out from behind. I could feel some of his previous load oozing out of me with his movements.
It was wonderful.

I lifted my hips to let him in further.

We must have been moving passionately for minutes at a time, pausing for the big lightning bolts and massive thunder claps that followed. The thrill of it, the tent opened, looking and facing outward, with the chance of getting caught, in a rain storm.
I was losing myself to the delicious sensations from his cock when I heard him say, “oh gawd”.
He grunted, suddenly overwhelmed at the way my pussy was gripping the base of his shaft. As the first squirt came, he held himself steady letting his man-juice pour into me again.
I felt and savored everything before his softening cock lost the battle to stay inside me.
He pulled up next to me and kissed me like no lover ever had afterwards.
“You were right,” I said, purposely using his exact same words.
“About what?”
“When you said ‘there are some things better left for self-discovery.'”
We looked in each other’s eyes.
The rain continued.
And so did we.

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