I unzip my sleeping bag so it’s more of a quilt, better fitting for two people. Even with that, it’s going to be a cosy fit. But then I already knew that didn’t I?
‘Lie down if you want. Be warmer.’
Tilda obliges, albeit hesitatingly. She shivers out loud once she’s under, shuddering beneath the sleeping bag. ‘Literally don’t know how you manage out here. I’d be frozen to death by now.’
‘I’m pretty warm blooded.’
‘Is that a lesbian thing? Haz and Elly are too.’
‘Dunno. Aren’t you one now?’
‘No. Not a lesbian. Bi, maybe. Dunno.’ She shrugs, picking up her phone. ‘Still figuring it out.’
‘And experimenting with my friends in the meantime.’
She releases an annoyed sigh.‘Am not.’
I zip my lips shut. Every time I open them, I seem to fuck things up. Suppose it’s habit at this point, a peculiar comfortability.
I take her cup and dump out the rest of the water, ensuring the stove’s off before closing the tent.
Then I just hover there, strangely reluctant to get under the covers with her. It’s a hell of a lot more cramped in here than it was in my bed.
Swamped in my hoodie, I watch her smile at her phone, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. She looks so small, so young. If I squint hard enough, she can be that eight-year-old again.
For a split second, I feel a softening in my heart, a crack shooting up it.
‘What are you smiling at?’ I demand, seeking the distraction.
Tilda glances at me briefly then shakes her head.
‘Tell me.’
She pauses, lowering her phone. ‘You really want to know?’
I gesture impatiently.
‘Elly and Haz,’ she begins, looking back at her screen, her smile shyer now, ‘they set a challenge for twenty orgasms today. You know, for twenty years. They’re just telling me there’s still one left.’
Her thumbs fly over the phone, the light of it illuminating her eyes. She looks relaxed lying there. Soft from all those orgasms. I remember catching her outside her room, her body feverishly warm for once. The look in her face she couldn’t conceal quick enough. Sultry, half fucked to death. That t-shirt barely covering her, nipples shadowy points beneath it.
In a flash, I saw myself throwing her against the closed door, fingers seeking the wetness still seeping from her. Wouldn’t take long to wind her up again. She’d still be sensitive, primed for me.
Then she uttered those words.Wouldn’t you like to know?
In that moment, I wanted more than to just know. I wanted to experience. It pissed me off. So I threw her off me, retreating to familiar ground.
In this tent though, it’s me who holds all the cards. Doubt she even knows where we are.
Leaning into the throb in my pussy, I say, ‘Better get on then.’
Tilda chuckles absently, still typing on her phone.
After a moment, she looks up. Her smile falls. ‘What? Are you kidding?’
‘I wouldn’t wanna piss Haz off, but’—I shrug—‘that’s just me.’
Tilda glances down herself. ‘What? Just—do it? Right now? With you here?’