What’s the naughtiest thing you have done while camping?

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Mudassir Ali
Feb 27, 2020 01:34 PM 0 Answers
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Mudassir Ali
- Feb 27, 2020 01:34 PM

Originally Answered: What was your naughtiest experience you’ve had while camping outdoors?
Last June my wife Becky and I vacationed at Devil’s Lake in Wisconsin with some friends. We had a busy week of rock climbing, camping, boating and swimming planned. On the second night we were there, a severe thunderstorm warning came through and Stephanie, my wife’s sister who had recently broken up with her boyfriend asked to sleep in our tent. We were tired from our day and so we agreed. Our tent after all, was a six man and there was only Becky and I.

We all got our sleeping bags rolled out and Becky and I lay down on one side of the tent and Stephanie laid down in her sleeping bag at the other side below our feet. Later that evening I was awaken by a distant thunder. I am a very light sleeper. Apparently Stephanie had heard the same thing, because she was awake and watching the sky out of the tent flap looking quite worried in her oversized T-shirt.

“Stephanie,” I whispered, “What’s wrong?”

She replied without looking at me, “Do you think the tent will keep the rain out?” she asked.

“Yeah, I suppose so,” I said.

“Can I come lay by you guys?” she asked me.

I looked at Becky who was sleeping, she’s always been a heavy sleeper. “I guess that would be ok, just try not to wake Becky.”

She said okay, and crawled over next to me dragging her sleeping bag behind. She stretched it down alongside mine and laid down. She got inside and pressed her body up against mine. I smelt that she was wearing perfume and that along with her asscrack pressed against my leg was turning me on. It seemed like the harder I tried not to get turned on the hotter I got. After a while I tried to fall asleep, and I rolled my body facing my sister in law, and she pressed her ass right against my rock hard cock. I was so embarrassed. I began to turn away when Stephanie started rubbing her ass up and down my length through the two sleeping bags. I was worried about Becky waking up, but I decided just to pretend to be innocently sleeping.

Stephanie whispered that she was hot and sat up without looking at me and removed her T-shirt. She was not wearing a bra, and I just stared at her beautiful tits. They were large and the nipples were fully erect. She was a little chunky but her tits were not flabby at all. I never had noticed how nice her chest was before. She reached up to scratch one and then she noticed me staring, and she whispered, “You’re still awake?” Then she smiled and teasingly tugged and twisted the nipple closest me.

She laid back down facing me now and asked me what I thought of her tits. I told her that I thought they were the most beautiful breasts I’d ever seen. She asked me if her sisters were as nice. I honestly told her no. Then she reached down into my partially zipped sleeping bag and pulled out my hand and placed it on her breast. She guided my fingers to squeeze her nipple. “How do they feel?” she asked me with a smile. I told her they were awesome and she removed her hand from mine but I continued to massage her breasts and nipples. Then she scooted up and I began to suck on her nipples. She whispered to me, “Bite them.”

I bit and massaged and sucked on my sister in law’s tits as she looked over my head at my sleeping wife’s face.

Then she surprised me further by coming back down to eye level and looking directly into my eyes as she unzipped my sleeping bag the rest of the way and then she disappeared. Suddenly, I felt my briefs pulled down to my ankles.

She grabbed my balls in her hand and licked my stomach all around my throbbing cock. She teased me for an eternity and then she took my whole dick into her mouth to the base and slowly released it while sucking all the way up. She made a light slurping noise as she let go and I looked over at my wife who was still sleeping.

Stephanie came up from below and kissed me. My sister in law practically stuck her tongue all the way down my throat and then she whispered in my ear, “How do you taste?”

“You bitch,” I responded grabbing her tits again, but she pushed my hands away and pulled herself out of her sleeping bag exposing to me her plump round ass and as she was moving things around she bent over and I saw the wettest and harriest pussy I’d ever seen. She turned and looked at me as I gazed into her holes and she smiled. I reached over and ran my finger across her dripping labia and then I stuck my wet finger in my mouth.

After she got her sleeping bag open, she turned her back to me and lay on her side again. She backed her ass up and now skin to skin began rubbing her ass up and down my cock. I could feel her wetness dripping onto my balls. “Do you want to fuck my pussy, Jim?” she asked, “Do you want to fuck me with my sister your wife right next to you? Have you ever fantasized about this pussy before?” I didn’t want to wake Becky so I just reached my arm around her waste and pulled her body tighter to me.

Then I felt her hand reach down and grab my cock and gently slide it into her love hole. She was so wet I barely had to push to get all the way in. She spread her legs wide open and pushed herself up and down with the one leg. I kissed her on her neck and fondled her breasts as I fucked my chubby sister in law slowly for about fifteen minutes. Then I started to pump faster until I blasted her full of my betrothed semen. I moaned as quietly as I could and then I pushed my cock up her as far as I could get it and held it there. I started to feel Stephanie’s pussy muscles contracting rapidly around my spent sperm uzzi. Then she bucked hard and pushed me into my sleeping wife and suddenly she let out a loud and long moan followed by a high pitch squeal. My cock and balls were drenched in her excitement.

It was then that I felt another arm reach around me and grab my dick. It was my wife’s. She yanked my dick from her sister’s hole and yelled at me at full volume, “What the fuck are you doing?”

I tried my best to lie and tell her that I thought she was my wife and I had been sleeping, but I’ve never been a good liar. I was scared shitless when Stephanie said, “That’s what you get for fucking Peter!”

It turns out I was a pawn. My wife had cheated on me with her sister’s boyfriend, and Peter told Stephanie about it and so she had planned the whole entire seduction to get even with my adultress.

Since that night, Stephanie and I have become good friends, and my wife lets me do whatever I want because she is so guilty about cheating on me. The two women just scowled and remained silent for the rest of the camping trip, but I’d say it was worth every second and drop of come. My only regret is coming inside of my sister in law, because the baby is due on the 12th of May.

Mudassir Ali
- Feb 27, 2020 01:34 PM

Originally Answered: What was your naughtiest experience you’ve had while camping outdoors?
I have been known to have the odd lapse in judgment. 1993 through 1995 was a memorable one. Getting out of bed in March of 2002 has since proven to be a bad idea that continues to this day. But one of the more acutely painful lapses was when I decided to take my girlfriend on a hike. Perhaps I have used two words incorrectly in that last statement. She was not so much a girlfriend as a girl I was having sex with that I had met the previous weekend. And it was not so much a hike as it was a wilderness camping trip into the Canadian backwoods at a provincial park. Regardless, the entire enterprise seemed much like, well, parachute pants: a good idea at the time. And with similar results.

Her name was Lane, not, she instructed me with raised finger and dramatic pause, Laney. She assured me that calling her Laney would result immediately in a groin injury, delivered with spectacular speed and accuracy. Lane was a lovely girl, slim and nubile. She was only a shadow over five and a half feet, but her long gazelle legs and serpentine neck made her seem much taller. I was positive that I was in love with her, or at least, in love with parts of her. And some of her parts were the best parts I had ever experienced. Surprisingly enough, this story isn’t really about her.

Camping was something I just loved to do. And I particularly enjoyed going to this provincial park. It was smaller than some other, closer parks, and it was a bit less populated. The park was divided by a pleasant creek, spotted with rolling meadows and some mature forest, contained a few marshy spots and a great abandoned gravel pit. I knew the area very well and had a few favourite spots that I liked to visit. There was a high hill that looked over a wide bend in the creek and from that vantage point I could watch deer come down to the water to drink. There was also a tract of marshland, where the great trunks of trees, long dead from the rising water reached up like bony arms. There I had seen hawks and herons, egrets and owls and even a few bald eagles.

When I told all this to Lane she seemed interested. By that I mean she looked at me as if she were paying attention. And by that I mean that her face was actually facing the same general direction in which I was standing. What I found out later was that she hadn’t really been interested and hadn’t really been listening; she just knew that I was taking her somewhere. Beautiful neck, but there was evidently less and less actually perched atop it.

The day before we left, I went over to her place and helped her pack. I was looking through her wardrobe with a rising sense of alarm. Lane was a business woman working in a downtown office and her clothing told me that she did little else but work. Aside from a few pairs of jeans and a sweatshirt, Lane had no clothes suitable for any kind of outdoor excursion. When I brought this to her attention, she said, “Well, can’t we just stay in the chalet or whatever?” It was then that I began to get an inkling of what I was in for.

By going through my own wardrobe and volunteering some sweaters and shirts, we ended up only having to buy her a few essentials, proper socks, a pair of hiking boots, another pair of jeans and a decent jacket. She tried on the clothes and stood in front of the mirror saying, “Look, I’m a redneck!” I was beginning to have the slightest twinge of doubt concerning this trip.

The drive up north was another revealing look at just who I was about to be traipsing about the woods with. As we drove farther and farther away from the city, her frustration at being unable to find a decent radio station increased. I told her to switch the radio to AM and she looked at me blankly. She had never listened to AM radio before. And when she did, she snorted that the radio was busted because the sound was all crappy. It was too. Not just because it was AM, but because it was playing music by Merle Haggard and the Oakridge Boys and a lot of other musicians by the name of Jessie and Lyle and Curtis.

When we arrived at the park, I pulled the car up a short drive and signed in at the gate. Twenty minutes or so later, the road pinched off to a path and I parked the car. “Okay,” I said, “here we are.” She turned to me with an expression that confirmed all my doubts about this trip in one, sickening second.

“And here is where, exactly?” she asked.

“This is where we are going camping.”

“How far is the place where we’re staying?”

“Well, I was thinking of setting up camp on the high meadow. It’s nice and the trees provide a good wind break. If we move now, we can watch the sunset up there.”

“Hold on.” she paused for a long moment. “What do you mean by ‘set up camp’?”

“The tent.” I unloaded the gear from the trunk of the car and held up the pack holding the tent.

Mudassir Ali
- Feb 27, 2020 01:34 PM

When I was 14 my family went vacationing up in the Porcupine Mountain range of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula during the last days of summer vacation in late August. It was just my mom, myself, my mom’s youngest brother and his fiancee, and my 14 year old cousin, who was two months younger than me, and the only daughter of mom’s oldest brother, who was attending a biker rally with his wife and asked us to look after his daughter. During the first night camping, my cousin woke up with her left eyelid swollen shut from an insect bite and her complaining that she could not see very well. My mom and uncle debated on whether or not we should go on our scheduled hike, not knowing wheather this bite was from a poisonous insect or not when I asked mom if I could go use the communal facilities. She told me to wait until someone could go with me, since she didn’t want anyone being alone out here, for safety sake. My uncle’s fience, named Debbie, noticed me holding my knees together and said she would take me, since she had to go herself. Mom said fine, telling me not to take to long relieving myself. On our way to the facilities, Debbie asked me what mom meant by “taking too long” and I said “do I really have to explain” in which she told me that she was now family and my embarrassment was cute, but unnecessary, and maybe close supervision of my morning toilet activities would explain why I was looking so intently at my balls this morning. We arrived at the restroom area’s at that moment when she said “let’s go”, mister. Time’s a wastin. Indicating I go ahead of her through the entrance of the woman’s locker rooms. I tried to object, but she said could get this over with now, or let everyone see how insecure I am about my boy parts. We entered and she led me to the handicapped stall, where she told me that she understood why mom told me not to take to long because my uncle’s morning wood was the same as mine, while hooking her thumbs under my waistband and pulling my shorts and underwear down to my ankles. She said that my uncle’s morning erection made it necessary for him to bend over in order to pee, and since I was going to have to do this, anyway, so she could see what it was I was looking at earlier this morning while pulling my nuts out for a look underneath, I might as well take this opportunity to explain to her why I looked so worried about the state of my testicles this morning. I really had to relieve myself at this point and asked her if she could at least turn her head for a second. She responded by placing her right hand on the back of my neck and taking hold of my erect penis with the other and bent me over the toilet , telling me she had been through this with her brothers and they ended up being O.k. with her supervision and I would to. I urinated while being held in this position, asking her why she had to humiliate me like this, and she explained that she was raised to monitor her brother’s development and take care of thier health and hygiene since they were little. When she saw that I was not going to my mother with this issue concerning my boy parts, she was concerned and felt it necessary to intervene. As she pulled a piece of tissue from the role, she told me that boys were not allowed to keep secrets from girls in her household, as she proceeded to wipe my penis of any remaining urine, running the tissue down the length of my shaft and over my scrotal sack. Placing her middle and index fingers under my scrotum, she lifted my testicles and asked me if she should have a look herself, or tell my mom about the situation and show her the affected area back at camp. Pointing out that mom might not be concerned enough about my privacy to do this out of sight of my cousin and uncle, I agreed that she should examine me here, at which point a lady of about middle aged, came in and noticed a lady in her early twenties feeling around the perennial regions of a teenage boy in a bent over position, exclaiming “oh, my! Am I interrupting something, here? Only to have this person participate in this examination after my new aunt explained to her the condition of my nether regions after being bitten by an unknown pest. Asking this older lady advice on how to identify the culprit and how to treat my condition, the lady pressed a finger into my perenium and stretched out the base of my scrotum and said it looked like a dear fly bite, and suggested that mixing baking soda with vinegar, and applying the mixture to the affected areas, would be the best way of drawing out any infections before they become a problem. As she tore off some tissue she spread my buttocks apart and showed Debbie how she periodically wiped her son clean when he had been stung by a yellow jacket in this area until the entry wound was scabbed over to ensure no cross contamination between his anus and the sting site. Being instructed to stand up and turn around, Debbie asked if the same cleaning proceedure should take place in this area, running her fingers between my scrotum to the head of my penis, where she opened the pee hole of my urethra. The older lady said that urine is sterile, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea to occasionally check the reproductive organs for additional bites or hygiene issues, giving a little chuckle as she checked behind the crown of my penis head to check the glands, stating she had to do this when camping with her family, inspecting her son, brothers, and occasionally even her husband. They agreed wholeheartedly that a womans work is never done. When we were back at the camp, my mom and uncle were talking to some people in a camp next to ours who had extra coupons to a free brunch and tour of an old logging site for thier participation in a time share presentation. Debbie said she would look after us kids while they had a good time with our neighbors. She mentioned that there was a volleyball court and a nearby trail that went around the tourist information center, with a lookout platform with mounted binoculars. While they were gone doing thier thing, Debbie checked my cousin’s eyes and cheek, where she had apparently been bitten by more than on insect, with Emily, my cousin, becoming increasingly embarrassed by all the attention, complaining that she just wanted to be left alone. Debbie insisted that she had nothing to be embarrassed about and Emily said that she would be more comfortable with me inspecting her since we had known each other all our lives, and Debbie saying that she had nothing to be embarrassed about, since she was soon going to be her Aunt. She asked Emily how she had come to be so comfortable with me inspecting her when she was so shy around her future aunt. I told Debbie, at that point, that it didn’t matter why she was comfortable around me, since she didn’t want to talk about it. Debbie became very curious, all of a sudden, why I was so protective of my cousin’s privacy, and when niether of us gave her an answer, she told us that she recognized a pinky swear when she saw one. When we asked what a pinky swear was, she explained a promise she had made to her older brother when checking him at home for problems his gym coach might have issues with when doing a pre-pool inspection before swim class. This was something his mom had insisted on as a means of avoiding an embarrassing situation at public swim meets by identifying questionable indicators of conditions resulting from poor hygiene or immoral behavior involving females. When she described the examinations of naked male swimmers in a public setting by thier young female instructor, with her student aid, (also a female classmate) observing the whole process, of coach lifting testicles to inspect health and hygiene, and parting thier cheeks to inspect anal regions, in front of family, friends, faculty, ect. we could hardly believe that boys had no privacy to speak of, so recently, where Debbie had been raised. “Is that why you and that lady were so thourogh when inspecting my private parts this morning? Because they weren’t considered private when you were growing up? Partly for that reason, since it was explained to us from a young age that girls needed to see boys naked since they would be taking care of thier own families someday and needed to know how to care for thier brothers and cousins, and husbands and sons, and grandchildren and thier friends. It was not acceptable for males to see females that way since it was expected that the wife and daughters would be the ones to take care of the males. It was always accepted that males don’t need modesty and females do, so men and boys didn’t have any privacy to invade when it came to hygiene, sports, sex education and home ect., or medicals. Can you honestly say that you are any worse off for that experience, being inspected by two ladies who were only concerned for your safety? “If these things had been explained to me before hand, and if I had not been made to feel like such a helpless child, then maybe I would have accepted the fact that you were going to know everything about my body because it was for my own protection, and that you felt it was O.K. for you to know everything about my reproductive health because you were raised to know everything about what makes a boy a boy, without knowing anything about the existence of male embarrassment and shame because you were taught that these things don’t exist. Well, I know that female modesty does exist, but when my cousin asked me to have a look at something because she is concerned about her health and trust me enough to ask me for assistance, then I know it is O.K. for me to disregard her need for privacy because she asked me to. This does not invalidate her need for privacy, it confirms her need to have someone she can trust in her life, to turn to, with issues that are difficult for her to share openly with most people. It is because of that trust she has shown, unconditionally towards me, that I am going to show her the same trust by volunteering to be examined in front of her, the way I was earlier this morning by my Aunt (making a point to show that I did accept her as family) and a kind lady who had good advice to give, due to her own experience with boys’ issues, so that she knows that I have as much trust in her discretion, as she has always had in mine.

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