“Are you asleep?”
Your soft whisper breaks the silene of the mild October night. I wouldn’t known how to answer your question; I am awake enough to have heard it, but asleep enough to doubt whether you actually said anything, or if I am dreaming it. So I don’t answer.
You sigh. I can hear you move about a little in your sleeping bag, which is close enough to mine to touch it. This is the third night of our field trip. We have three more to go. During the day, we walk, almost from dusk to dawn. When the sun gets low on the horizon, we pitch our tent, eat and go to sleep. We’ve done this many times before.
I hear the zipper on your sleeping bag slide down – actually I can almost feel it. Another longer, gentle sigh, and your breathing gets heavier. At this point, I’m pretty sure I’m not dreaming. I don’t dare open my eyes even a little bit. The tent becomes an echo chamber for your deep breaths and the rythmic strokes of your fingers. It’s all amplified by the total silence of the night.
On trips like this one, you have to adapt to a certain lack of privacy. In fact, almost a total lack of privacy. You spend every waking and sleeping hour with your partner. I was happy when I found out you would be going with me. I’ve always gotten along with you well and you’re not uncomfortable with just walking in silence sometimes, which I appreciate.
Yesterday morning, I woke up with an erection. I waited for you to leave the tent until I got out of my sleeping bag to let it subside a little. When I came out of the tent, you were swimming in the small lake we had camped right next to. It’s not practical to keep wet clothes in the backpack all day, so you wore only your panties. I went in the lake as quickly as I could to hide the remnants of my erection, which promptly disappeared as it came into contact with the chilly water. We swam around for a bit; this would be our shower that day.
“Don’t come too close!” you told me as I swam towards you. I stopped, a bit confused. “I’m peeing.” you explained, holding up your panties. I smiled and took a few strokes away from you. I had always been secretive about peeing in lakes. But I didn’t mind it at all and neither did you seem to. So I too slipped off my boxers. Relieving the pressure of my bladder after the night felt good, and so did the warmth that spread around me. The sun came up behind a hill. We slipped on our underwear. You got out of the water first, turning your back to me. I never got to see your breasts. But when we sat down for breakfast, your nipples were poking out a bit.
I can feel and hear your pelvis moving rhythmically against your fingers in your sleeping bag. I can also feel the blood rushing to my penis. It’s pushing uncomfortably against my underwear, but I don’t dare to adjust it. I can feel my balls contract and I get goosebumps. Your breaths turn into repressed sighs, your rhythm speeds up, and I can hear the wetness. The smell of your excitement fills the tent and has nowhere to escape. Just as the first drop of precum is absorbed into the fabric of my underwear, you let out a tiny cry of pleasure and collapse into your sleeping bag. I listen to you catch your breath as silently as you can manage. Finally, the zipper of your sleeping bag slides up again, ever so discretely, and everything is silent again, except for my heart, which is still pumping as fast as it can into my nether regions in expectation of something that will not happen tonight and should not happen at all.
I slightly open my right eye and spy you laying peacefully beside me, still a smirk of satisfaction on your face – almost like the grin of someone who has gotten away with something they are not supposed to. But you haven’t. I heard everything. And now I open both of my eyes and whisper:
“Are you asleep?”
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/dfe1j4/the_field_trip_mf