Shower Gel

A few years ago my girlfriend and I went camping in the Lake District. After the fraught summer term at Uni, with its rapid succession of exams and dissertation deadlines, we decided we needed to get away from the city and just wander around doing whatever we wanted for a week or so.

We found a pretty nice campsite on the edge of Coniston Water and set up base there. Then we dug out an old map from under the passenger seat and tried to find cool places to drive out to and go walking. Or, if we didn't feel that energetic, we'd hunt around the craft shops or just find a quaint-looking pub by the lakeside and while away the time drinking and chatting. All pretty soothing and the perfect opportunity for the two of us to get to know each other a lot better. The days passed quickly.

On the third or fourth night, we were lying together outside the tent, drinking wine and chatting quietly in the glow of some candles we'd lit. We'd had a really good day following a track alongside one of the rivers flowing into Coniston and must have walked about fifteen miles or so. For the two of us, used to catching buses to get between lecture theatres at the University, it had been an impressive feat. We were tired and, even though it was only about half past eleven, the site was totally quiet and the forest around it black and still. The sky was ablaze with stars.

Kaz was lying in front of me with her head resting on my arm. With my free hand I was abstractedly caressing her breasts through the thin material of her bra as we chatted. She kept propping herself up to take sips from her wine but when she lay down she'd reach behind her and put her hand on my arse, gently rubbing my right buttock. It was so tranquil being like that together: the air was growing cold and ground was getting damp, but while we were lying together like that, the frenzied atmosphere we'd escaped from seemed so distant as to be irrelevant.

Then we were disturbed by the twin beams from car headlights as it rounded a corner and came straight towards us. We automatically moved apart, embarrassed to have our intimacy floodlit, and the car changed direction as it neared us and pulled up alongside the tent next on the next plot. The engine was turned off and then the lights went out and, in the flickering glow of our candles, I could just discern that two guys got out of it. They muttered to each other and one of them opened the boot to get a rucksack and some other stuff out of it. Then they unzipped their tent and got in it together.

We didn't say much about them that night, as I remember. We got inside the tent, undressed in the cramped interior and then lay together, clinging to each other in the cold, listening to the occasional calls from the owls in the trees. I tried, as I had on the previous evenings, to lure Kaz into some fun by gently teasing her nipples and extending a finger into the soft warm opening between her thighs, but she was reluctant to join in. She was conscious of us being heard by other people in nearby tents or that "perverts", as she put it, would be creeping around intent on finding out what young couples like us were getting up to.

So she rolled away from me and I was left to lie behind her, my hard-on aching and unable to accept that it wouldn't be following my finger into Kaz's pussy for yet another night. I contemplated wandering over to the toilet block to masturbate, but in the end I couldn't be bothered and I drifted off to sleep with my cock still throbbing and pressing between the cheeks of Kaz's arse.

When I awoke it was light and there was the sound of people and cars from outside. I struggled to move towards the door to find my watch. When I'd fished it out from our piles of discarded clothes I found that it was half past nine. I needed some coffee before I was prepared to do any thinking. I found the light blue briefs that I worn the previous day and in trying to pull them on, I woke up Kaz.

She opened her eyes and sat up slightly. She stared at my cock, morning hard-on in full glory, and groaned. 

I said, "Sorry - I was trying not to wake you."

She groaned again. "What time is it?"

I got my briefs up to my hips and started pushing my cock into the front of them, struggling to make it fit in its current state. "Half nine. I'll make some coffee."

She nodded groggily. "I need it. I must have been awake for an hour or so after you nodded off." I thought she was going to accuse me of snoring and keeping her awake, but she continued, lowering her voice to a whisper, "Those two guys in the next tent. Shagging. I couldn't sleep..."

I finally got my cock inside my briefs, Kaz looking on. It made a thick straight rod directed diagonally from the paired mounds of my balls to my left hip. The elastic waistband snapped into place. I was puzzled. "Shagging?"

Kaz nodded and lay her head back on her pillow, closing her eyes.

I asked, "What? Each other?"

I thought she'd laugh and tell me that they'd brought some girls over from another tent, but she nodded again. "Like fucking rabbits."

I was intrigued. "How do you know? I mean, they might have had girls in there...?"

"There were two voices. Both male. Rhythmic noises. And stuff they were saying."

I was pleased my cock was already hard because what she was saying was really turning me on. The idea of gay sex had always been fascinating to me since school.

I asked her, "How do you know they weren't wanking or something? I mean, guys do that together sometimes..."

She didn't even open her eyes. She just stated, without room for discussion, "One of them was shagging the other. I know what it sounds like. I'm not stupid."

I glanced down at my briefs and saw that a patch of precum had made a wet circle where the end of my cock was. I said, "I'll make some coffee."

I unzipped the door of the tent and crawled out. The light outside was bright. It was a sunny day and it took a few seconds for my eyes to become accustomed. When they had, I looked around, crouching outside the door of the tent. A few kids were playing on a patch of grass about a hundred yards away. A car was driving past them, on its way out of the site.

I reached back into the tent and pulled out my teeshirt. I turned back around and pulled it over my head, still kneeling on the grass. When I'd got it on I realised that a guy was standing in front of me. I looked up at him, sheltering my eyes from the bright sunlight behind him.

He said, "Sorry about last night. The car."

I didn't know what he meant. "Uh?"

He elaborated. "It looked like we scared you. We nearly pulled up to the wrong tent." His accent was distinct. It sounded like he was from Essex or East London.

I realised that he was the guy from the next tent. I stood up to get a better look. He was about six foot two, about my height, and had short brown hair which was messed up at the back. His face was angular but friendly. He was, in a natural and masculine way, pretty good looking.

I said, "Oh right. Yeah." I laughed. "It doesn't matter."

He was wearing a striped football shirt and white shorts, but had nothing on his feet. From that and the state of his hair I guessed that, like me, he'd just got up. I wondered if Kaz could really be right about the two of them having sex. He looked totally straight: a lad into footie and going camping with his mates.

He smiled. "We felt bad that we'd made you go inside." His voice was deep and quite rough.

He glanced down at my crotch and then casually brushed against his own with his hand. Just lightly tapped the front of his shorts, like he had a bit of an itch that wasn't worth a scratch.

I said, "No. We were going in anyway. It was getting cold out here."

He looked down at my crotch again. I glanced down and myself and realised that my teeshirt hadn't covered the front of my briefs; that the bottom of it had become caught in the waistband and that the rod of my hard cock was visible to him.

I was about to pull it down when he moved his hand back to the front of his shorts and made a slight scratching motion against the material. Kind of like a half-hearted wank. I looked down at them and saw the bulge of his cock inside them. He was obviously in the state of developing an erection: his cock rose up slightly and pressed against the white cotton of his shorts.

He flashed another smile and said, "Yeah it gets pretty cold out here."

I nodded and then casually rubbed my cock through my briefs. Just ran a couple of fingers along its length a couple of times like I wasn't even aware that I was doing it. To see what he'd do.

He nodded like he understood what I was saying to him. I wasn't yet sure myself what I was saying to him - I knew he was coming onto me and felt interested to see how it would develop. Kind of turned on by the idea of us standing here doing this in broad daylight.

He said, "Hey, do you know where the shower block is?"

I nodded. "Yeah. It's over there. There's a sign."

He rubbed the front of his shorts again. I glanced down at them. His movements were now undeniably masturbatory and his cock was starting to make a tent inside his shorts. It was sticking outwards at an angle of about forty-five degrees and the tip of it looked thick as it strained against the material.

He said, "You wanna give me shout when you go over there?" And then, laughing, "I... sort of... get lost easily, mate."

I smiled and nodded. He grinned back at me and then turned to walk back towards his tent. I watched his arse, looking round and solid inside his shorts, as he walked away. Then I glanced down at my briefs to see how candid his view of my cock had been. He'd seen it all: my hard-on was still raging, strengthened if anything by his overt flirting, and my wet spot of precum was clearly visible. I thought, "Jesus, you're a tart, Wallace."

When he got back to his tent, his friend was just crawling out. That guy had definitely just woken up because he looked rough as hell. His hair, which was black and cut short, was shambolic and his chin was rough with stubble. He was wearing just a pair of white briefs. His chest and upper body were well-shaped; the guy obviously worked out or had a job in which he used his muscles. He crouched in front of a stove which the other guy must have set up and started spooning some coffee from a jar into a cup. His legs were wide open and his balls hung down between his legs, heavy inside his briefs.

I turned back to our tent and reached inside for our stove and water and stuff. I noticed that Kaz was sleeping deeply again. I decided not to wake her again until I'd made some coffee.

While the water started to warm up, I watched a couple of young girls riding their bikes around the camp site. I didn't want to look back over at the two guys next to us: I was interested by the idea they were gay yet so outwardly devoid of any signs of being so, but didn't want to make it look like I was fascinated by them. I guess, though, that I was: the fact that the guy in football top had come onto me so overtly really intrigued me.