Eurowank
As kids & teenagers we went to france every year, and on several occasions, the same campsite each time. To be fair, they were fantastic holidays and me and my younger brother loved every minute, even the long drives down to the town near the spanish border.

We always stayed in a campsite, on one of those 'eurocamp' places, where they provide everything, tent, fridge, stuff. The tents were generally large canvas things (obviously!) but divided up into different 'rooms' - basically large, thin mesh bags hung from the frames. My brother and I had one divided in 2, one side each, next to that was a large double room with a proper double bed for the 'rents, my bro and I had campbeds, the ones with a canvas sheet attached to a frame by springs. They made a hundred different squeaks everytime you so much as breathed. If you rolled over, the noise was like a large, badly tuned violin orchestra.

I was about 13, and before the holiday had started to notice a new side effect to my teenage night-time solo fumblings. I had started to leak quite a lot, you know, at the end bit. It was feeling amezzin. After a few weeks on holiday, i was feeling the urge, big time. One night i decided to go for it.

Every single sound would carry at night, i could hear my brothers heartbeat from 4 feet away if i listened carefully. My noise reduction from now on would have to make Mr Dolby weep with jealousy. I pulled off the duvet and discarded it to the floor to reduce rustling. I took off my pj's, further rustle reduction being key. I licked my palms, and attempted to flatten down my adolescent smattering of pubes, again, conscious of the potential friction and noise. I needed to lie as still as possible and move everything an absolute minimum. A hard-on took about 1 and a half seconds to achieve, i licked my palms again, and set to work. Concentrating hard on moving my hand without moving my arm, and moving my parts just enough to get things working. I listened for every squeak, and creak. I regulated my breathing carefully so as not to give the game away.

My 'bedroom' was separated from my parents room by 2 thin mesh walls, and approximately 1 inch spacially. My head was probably a foot from my dads realistically. However, i was doing well, i didnt make a sound. I was quickly approaching finale, and also realisng I hadn't thought this through fully. Point of no return. Many thoughts rushing through my head - tits tits sophie smiths tits oh shit wheres it going to go Sarah Manions legs god she so fucking fit oh god oh god come one oh fuck it i'm going to have to just let fly i cant reach for a sock without making a noise god please let me fuck Sophie and Sarah one day please just once god im giving it to them good now they love it i'm going to swap and put it in the other one and watch her tits dangling down as i fuck her and urrrrrrrrrgh oh fuck thats goooooooooooood........

Silence. Screaming silence in my head. A sticky warm wetness all over my stomach and hand and bits and utter relief. My ears almost ringing from the concentration, a stupid grin plastered and the knowledge that Sophie and Sarah had just got the seeing to of their lives, I am a total and utter STUD.

The unmistakeable outline of my fathers face appears in the mesh wall of my room as he rolls over. In a hushed tone he says "Son, I hope it was worth it. Please dont do it again when we're around it upsets your brother."

The subsequent shame has long since been repressed, I dont honestly remember how awful that moment must have been. I never got to shag Sophie Smith, i hear she is still very fit. Sarah Manion had the greatest legs you've ever seen and the images remain a file on the "w drive" to this day.

Later I'll tell you about my attempted rape on the same holiday.
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Fri 3 Aug 2007, 10:08, Reply)