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“The thing that I hate most about camping,” Trick told her high school crush, “is having to get up in the middle of the night to pee.” She reached up to trace abstract shapes on the inside of the tent roof, desperate to appear nonchalant. It worked. Her crush noticed nothing.
* * *
“The thing that I hate most about camping,” Trick told her first girlfriend, “is having to go out in the cold in the middle of the night to pee.”
“You can borrow my sweater,” she replied. “I like how it smells after you wear it.”
* * *
“The thing I hate most about camping,” Trick told her second girlfriend, “is getting up in the cold to pee.” She punctuated her thought by slapping at the tent roof, bouncing the wet drops off of it, hoping her girlfriend would get the point.
“Go now,” she said softly, biting Trick’s earlobe, “then I’ll still be awake to warm you up again,” she finished.
* * *
“You know what I hate about camping?” Trick asked her fourth girlfriend.
“Having to get up in the cold to pee?” she asked back.
“YES!” said Trick. “I hate going out in the cold dark.”
“Told you we shouldn’t have gone camping in October,” she finished.
* * *
“I love the snow, but you know what I hate about camping in the winter?” Trick asked her new girlfriend.
“Why do you hate it so much at night?” Tamar asked, knowing exactly what Trick meant. “You didn’t make a big deal out of peeing earlier, and it was cold all day.”
“It’s just… you’re bundled and snuggled and comfortable, and then you have to put on 7 layers and go out and come back and take off 7 layers and it’s just…” Trick sighed. “It’s just not very fun.”
Tamar was quiet and thoughtful. Trick looked at her, but there were no clues what words might be bouncing around inside her girlfriend’s skull. Tamar wrapped a leg around one of Trick’s inside the doubled sleeping bag but pulled her head and shoulders back to get a better look at Trick. “You don’t have to do all that, you know.”
“You think I should go out naked in my boots?” Trick asked. Her heart fluttered. She pecked at Tamar’s forehead for something to do that wouldn’t betray her own thoughts.
“No. I mean, well, you could pee in here and then you wouldn’t have to go out at all.” Tamar sounded helpful, but Trick wasn’t entirely sure. And that excited her.
“I can’t pee on the floor of the tent, think of how hard it would be to clean. Where would I even go? And if I did, wouldn’t the smell be a bit gross?” She’d had conversations like this with so many girlfriends, real and imagined, but outside her head it had never gotten this far. And even this was still not very far. Trick held her breath.
“I don’t know. It’s … I guess it would have been better if we’d thought of it earlier and brought one of the water bottles in. But whatever we do it wouldn’t really be bad, right? I mean, it’s cold. That would keep the smell down. And keep the pee from turning bad.”
“I suppose. There’s still nowhere to pee though. Maybe tomorrow night I can bring in one of the water bottles.”
“That’s a good idea,” Tamar agreed.
Trick’s body was riot of goose bumps, and not from the cold. She worked to breathe evenly. It took at least an hour to calm her body, she was sure, but in all that time, however long it really was, neither had moved. Trick slowly came to realize what that meant. Her heart sank. So close, she thought. But we never get naked without having sex. Never. And she’s not making a move tonight.
“Trick?” Tamar’s voice was hesitant. Shy. Nervous.
“What’s up?” She asked back. It sounded more harsh than she’d meant it.
“My coffee cup’s in the corner on your side. Can you reach it?”
Trick rolled away though the tent wasn’t actually that large. She picked up the mug. It felt light and when she shook it only drops splattered back and forth. “It’s empty.”
“No, I know,” she said. There was a pause. “I just thought.”
“What?” Trick asked, still with more edge than she wanted. She really liked Tamar. She didn’t want to fuck things up over this. It wasn’t like any of her other relationships —
“Well the water bottles are outside by the fire but my mug is in the tent already, if you wanted to use that.”
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Trick’s skin flushed hot for a moment, then her spine vibrated all the way down to her ass.
“Peeing. I don’t want you to have to go out when you don’t want to. You could pee in my mug tonight, then just put the lid back on and we can empty it in the morning.”
Trick could no longer move, her body paralyzed and her brain near the same. After an excruciating second she closed her dry mouth, licked it wet again, and managed, “But wouldn’t that make your coffee bursa escort taste like… like pee?”
“It’s metal. It can wash. And coffee’s bitter anyway, at least the kind I like.” Tamar, staring, couldn’t see any reaction, so she plunged forward, “If it ends up tasting like you a little bit, that’s okay. For a couple days.” She hadn’t meant to add that last bit, but then she couldn’t seem to help herself. “You don’t have to. Just if it’s better than going outside.”
Trick slowly recognized that she needed to say something, but as many times as she had thought about this conversation, she had no real answer. “If it’s okay with you.”
“It’s okay,” her girlfriend answered, reaching out and giving Trick an exceptionally long, soft kiss on her cheek. When trick didn’t immediately respond, Tamar rolled over, putting her back against Trick, whose brain began to curse her for not knowing what to do. It seemed that she had gotten everything wrong when Tamar reached awkwardly over her own shoulder to take Trick’s hand and pull it down until her arm was wrapped around Tamar’s breasts.
Tamar wiggled briefly, settling in. Trick’s bush tickled her ass, but there was no other action. Trick held Tamar tight. Tamar captured one of Trick’s ankles with her foot. Neither started any sex. Neither even asked. They each waited nervously for sleep to come.
* * *
Tamar woke up first. Trick’s soft shifts were tickling her deep between her ass cheeks. There wasn’t much other movement, but she hadn’t needed more than that to bring her fully alert. Her neck was cold for a moment before Trick’s breath showered down on her. Then the cold returned, and Tamar shivered. Then the incomparable warmth. She waited, enjoying the excruciating sensations of shivering, sensitive in the cold, then suddenly finding herself awash in her lover’s hot breath. Though not much time passed, even with this distraction Tamar found the wait too long. She pressed back and wiggled. She waited a moment the pressed and wiggled again. There was a change in Trick’s breathing. She shut her eyes tight and prayed.
“Tamar?” Her honey voice, thick and soft, was welcome in every possible way. “Tamar, are you awake?”
She tried to sound as if she were still half-asleep. “I’m awake. A little.”
“Did you mean it earlier, that I can use your coffee mug if I need to?”
“If you need to what?” Tamar asked, wearing a secret smile in the dark.
“If I need to pee? I thought you said… I thought you said that I could pee in your mug instead of outside.” Somehow what she had said hung in the air, like a sword dangling above her from an impossibly thin thread. The seemed the most dangerous words she had ever spoken.
“Oh!” her girlfriend popped out, rolling over to face Trick, then to pull her closer with one hand on her hip and kiss her briefly on the mouth. “I remember. Do you need help? I can hold the mug so you don’t spill.” Again Trick was almost sure her girlfriend was wanting to be helpful, but that last sliver of uncertainty was piercing her calm.
“Uh, yeah. That… that could help. I’ve never done this before,” she said, vaguely but with desperate honesty.
“Let’s get these off,” Tamar suggested, beginning to work down Trick’s unders. It took quite a bit of willpower not to take Trick’s nipple in her mouth when a breast bumped against her face. It took more not to simply dive for the cunt when her head ducked into the sleeping bag and she breathed in the scent of their arousal, built up over the last few hours to the thickness of lead. Nothing could stop the noise in her throat, but Trick seemed not to notice. Perhaps it was quieter outside her body than in. Perhaps it was muffled by the sleeping bag over her head. Thirstily sucking down a last breath, she popped her head back out. “There you go. Now hand me the mug,” she pointed.
Trick turned, not ready to climb out of bed just yet. Tamar rested her palm against the cheek she found suddenly in her lap. The heat of it pulsed through her hand; her blood accelerated. She pulled away as Trick turned back and handed her the mug. As she unscrewed the lid, she told Trick, “Well? You have to get out of the sleeping bag for this.”
“Oh,” was all Trick replied. She clambered out of the bed while Tamar pulled the pillows and the bag far over to her side.
“Maybe you should turn on the light for this. It’s pretty dark and I don’t want to put this in the wrong spot or something,” Tamar said, wiggling her thermos mug to make a noise.
Trick’s nervousness had overtaken her excitement, which said quite a lot about how nervous she was. But she didn’t want anything to go wrong. Even if nothing happened tonight, bursa escort bayan as long as nothing went wrong maybe she could pee in the tent again tomorrow. She bent over to crawl back toward the front of the tent, her naked body displaying itself to Tamar as a series of deep-black curves against the lesser shadow of the tent fabric. Then she grabbed the flashlight and turned on the lantern setting. She turned toward Tamar, saw her smiling, and exhaled.
“You sure you don’t want to go outside?” asked Tamar. “I’d love to see that butt crawling out of the tent flap.” Trick’s face fell a little. “Oh come here. I’m only teasing. I said you could. I don’t want you outside with the wolves and the bears and the rattle snakes.”
“There aren’t rattlesnakes in the snow.”
“Just come here, silly. Kneel down facing me. No, sitting up but kneeling down. That’s better. Can you get closer? Okay. Now spread your knees farther. Can you put the lantern down there? That’s perfect. Okay, now you need to lift that cute butt up off your ankles.” She slid the mug between her lover’s legs and held it there, staring straight at Trick’s cunt. “Can you spread your lips a little?” Trick spread them a lot, but that worked for Tamar. “Okay, just a second. Now lower just a bit? Okay. Let’s try this.” Tamar knew there was a chance some spray might escape, but she didn’t want to jam her mug up against Trick. For one, she didn’t want to hurt her, and for another, that lantern light would have been wasted if she was just going to press the mug to Trick’s mound. She stared, waiting. Without meaning to her tongue crept out and pulled back, then she gently bit the centre of her lower lip.
Trick had no idea what to feel. She’d wanted this for so long, well, not just this, but this was that first step onto the new ground she’d been so desperate to visit. Yet here she was, and nothing moved. She pressed from inside, but nothing. She stared at the top of the tent and strained. Still nothing. She looked down at her pubic hair, at the mug. She willed it to come.
Then she looked at Tamar, teeth on her lip just as they were the first moment she’d ever seen her. Rebecca’s house. In the kitchen. Looking for something, probably alcohol since it was Purim. So serious. Still looking for something. Patient. Determined. Her eyes focussed between Trick’s legs instead of in the cupboards. Just like that day, Tamar felt her looking, turned her head and their eyes locked. Just like that day. Just as full of promise. Just as full of something.
That’s when something broke open. Something rushed out of her. Something pulled Tamar’s attention away. Now Tamar was staring at the mug she held just below Trick’s cunt, but Trick kept staring at Tamar’s face. It was so beautiful. So loving. She’d been so afraid of seeing something disturbed. Something disgusted. Something angry. But there was none of that. Instead she saw something curious. Something avid. Something excited. Something breathless.
Somehow the mug was half full before Trick heard anything at all. Tamar’s expression had been her whole world, but once the echoing pour penetrated her consciousness it seemed overwhelmingly loud. Obscenely loud. But Tamar’s face didn’t change. She didn’t pull back or look away. And Trick began to relax. And the flow slowed. And Trick relaxed. And the flow slowed.
Tamar watched to the end. When Trick’s pee was reduced to dribbles her teeth released her lower lip, her jaw opened just a fraction. Her tongue crept out just a bit, licking her lips on the way back in.
Trick’s heart melted. Her whole insides liquefied, from her chest to her vagina.
“Done?” Tamar asked, looking up.
“Done, I think.”
Tamar began to pull the cup back out from under Trick’s vulva, but the bottom bumped the tent floor. She did exactly what she hadn’t meant to do earlier and pushed the cup up tight to Trick’s body to keep the sloshing urine from spilling out. The hot piss splashed Trick’s labia, and she gasped. She nearly lost her balance, leaning forward too far, but caught herself with a hand on Tamar’s shoulder, which only caused more sloshing in the mug, then righted herself.
“Sorry,” Tamar said in her Jewish-Canadian way. Which of course is to say that she wasn’t actually sorry at all, but wanted to be polite.
“It’s okay,” Trick said.
They shared a moment, then Tamar asked, “Do you want to lift up?” Trick did. Tamar pulled the mug out successfully this time, dropped the lid on. As she screwed it quickly closed she heard a drop hit the floor of the tent. Looking between Trick’s knees again, she saw another drop ready to fall from her labia. Trick hadn’t moved, god knows why, so Tamar, not having anything else, escort bursa reached out with her one free hand and wicked the moisture from Trick’s vulva. Most of the wet was far too thick and buttery smooth for pee, and when she pulled her hand back close she could smell both urine and cunt on her fingers.
“Oh, let me get something,” Trick said, thinking of the toilet paper in her backpack.
“It’s okay,” Tamar said. And when she said it she realized exactly why she had used her hand to wipe Trick clean.
Trick stopped moving for the backpack. She stopped moving at all. She was surrounded by the scent of pussy and pee, and her heart was bashing a sledgehammer against the inside of her ribs, and distantly she felt the cold of the winter air on her skin, but everything else disappeared so that she could focus on Tamar as she lifted her fingers under her nose and sniffed. Then her tongue snuck out a third time, farther than before, and licked a finger, then another. Then her fingers went into her mouth, one at a time, sucking at them the way she sucked dressing off carrots.
Trick’s head spun. It was so much more than she hoped, even almost as much as she dreamed in her kinky, never-to-come-true dreams. Her nose crinkled up in worry, “Did it taste bad?”
Tamar stared directly into Trick’s eyes, confident as fuck, and put her first finger back in her mouth again, sucking it hard. Sucking with the calm enthusiasm of a woman determined to get the most savour out of her favourite snack. She pulled the finger out with a deliberate smack. “It tastes like you.”
“Oh, fuck. I want your mouth so bad right now.”
Tamar pulled herself down toward the front of the tent, patting the top of the air mattress she’d left empty. “Lay your ass down.”
Seconds later Tamar’s face was between Trick’s thighs, licking up small drops of spray on her tongues way closer and closer to Trick’s cunt. She paid special attention to the crease between mound and thigh, her own face now wet from rubbing against Trick’s hair. The smell was cunty, and the taste of drops of pee not much different from bitter sweat. A bit more metallic. A bit of added sour. It’s not that it tasted good, and it might even have tasted bad if her mouth was full of it, but it tasted so human and so intimate, and the scent of their liquid cunts added a sexual background that couldn’t be ignored. She sucked one labium into her mouth, then the other. The first again. The second again, savouring, but there was nothing left. Her tongue sought out more and was drawn to the centre of Trick’s flavour.
If ever there had been an unpleasant edge to the urine on Tamar’s tongue, the odor had always been beautiful, raw, but beautiful, and with her tongue in Trick’s vagina the mix was intoxicating, the best of both. The scent of her pee, the taste of her pussy. Tamar couldn’t get enough but she forced herself to pull her tongue up and make room for her fingers. She tickled the urethral hole that had kicked off tonight’s delight, but she wasn’t sure what that was doing for Trick.
For her part, Trick didn’t know what it was doing to her. Her imagination was on fire: her fantasies were already coming true and they pushed her body to feel not merely the excitement of the moment, but the excitement of all the moments she had ever spent dreaming, hoping, begging in her coded way.
“Do you know what I hate about camping?” Was the question, and the only answer that mattered was, “That there were so many nights that never became this.” Tamar’s fingers moved side to side, brushing against the top of her vagina. She might have preferred a more direct attack on her g-spot, but tonight it was all too much already, and she was too sensitive for that. Tamar seemed to know. Tamar seemed to know everything.
She owed Tamar everything back, and she gave it to her, yelling, “Tam!” loud enough to fill the forest, squirting fluid enough to fill her girlfriend.
There were other orgasms, too. Trick couldn’t be sure how many, but time had passed, her strength had passed, and Tamar had tucked them both back into the sleeping bag. She felt she really ought to go down on Tamar. It seemed like the fair thing to do, but she didn’t have it in her, so she hugged her girlfriend as tight as she could with what strength she had left and bent her neck to kiss Tamar’s hair. It mostly smelled of Trick’s own cunt, but there was a scent of pee as well.
And that, thought Trick, was as good as things could be.
Trick slept that way, breath in her girlfriend’s hair, with Tamar still vibrating with excitement, monstrously awake. She wanted to be back between Trick’s legs, but she resisted, knowing Trick needed sleep. Her mouth was so hungry, though, that she could not stop it from sucking kisses onto the skin of Trick’s collar bone. A long time passed before her heart finally matched the rhythms of her sleeping lover, until their breath synchronized, and Tamar herself let go of the excitement of the night to fall far down into sleep.
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