Into the Wild: A Forbidden Family Camping Trip Affair

It was August, the air warm and heady with the scent of pine and lakewater, and nearly time for school to start, which meant it was time for our annual family camping trip.

Thomas and I had barely arrived when you greeted us with open arms. The sun was high, the lake glistening, and I was already in my swimsuit.

Without warning, you scooped me up with that familiar grin and tossed me into the water. I shrieked, laughing, the splash echoing through the trees.

We spent the day wrapped in playfulness, sun on our skin, the kind of lighthearted touch that made everything feel alive. But under the laughter, I felt it. That quiet, simmering tension. The one we never talked about. The one I had to ignore before someone else noticed.

That evening, as the fire crackled and dinner settled into stories and wine,

you walked past me, slowly, deliberately and leaned in close.
“Meet me on the beach,” you whispered, your breath stirring the hair on my neck, “after everyone’s asleep.”
I barely nodded, but you saw it and smiled.

Later, when your wife and kids had disappeared into their tents, I watched you slip away without a word. My pulse quickened. One by one, the others faded into the night. I waited. No footsteps behind me. Just the call of the crickets and the hush of the waves.

You were already there, barefoot on the moonlit sand, a fire glowing behind you. A blanket was spread out. You were shirtless, your body warm from the flames, muscles catching the flicker of light like carved stone.

You reached out and pulled me into you, arms wrapped firm and slow. >>> Family Camping Trip

Your lips brushed my neck and you whispered, “I wasn’t sure you were coming.” Your voice was soft, uncertain, real.

I turned to face you. The words this is wrong hovered on my lips but I didn’t speak them. Instead, I kissed you. Deep. My hands ran down your chest, feeling the heat of your skin.

“I had to make sure no one was following me,” I said.

“Just this once?” I asked, almost trembling.

You nodded, your lips finding mine again. I tasted the hunger in you, and it mirrored mine. Our tongues met, danced, then clashed with need. Your hands found my breasts, still under my damp shirt, and I sighed into you.

I slipped my hand down, finding the waistband of your shorts. You weren’t wearing boxers. I smiled as I wrapped my fingers around you, teasing, stroking. You groaned and rolled me gently onto the blanket.

Qickly, you undressed me slowly, shirt, then cutoffs, eyes lighting up when you saw the lacy bra and thong I’d secretly worn for you. You reached for my bra, but I stopped you, smirking.

“Later,” I whispered.

You kissed your way down my body, soft, reverent. When you reached my panties, you slid them off gently, pressing your lips to my inner thighs before tasting me. I opened for you, melting into the waves of pleasure as your tongue moved with expert precision.

Oh! I moaned loudly, straddling your face as I took your thick, salty length in my mouth. I deep-throated you, slowly at first, then more urgently. You moaned into my clit, our bodies in rhythm, lost in nature and desire.

“I need you inside me,” I gasped.

You didn’t hesitate. I climbed on, sinking down inch by inch, adjusting to your size. You filled me completely. I moved slowly at first, then faster, our bodies slick and synchronized under the stars. I leaned forward, letting my breasts hang near your mouth.

You got the message. My bra hit the sand. You devoured my nipples with a hunger I’d never seen in you before.

I rode you hard, crying out as waves of pleasure crashed over me.

My juices coated you, but neither of us cared. You gripped my hips and flipped me onto my back, sliding in again, deeper this time, harder–your grunts wild, raw, real.

Then on my knees, you behind me, pounding in rhythm with the ocean’s roar. I screamed, another orgasm tearing through me. { A quite, stolen moment }

I pushed you down, needing to finish on top. Reverse cowgirl. You watched me ride you, eyes dark with lust, your hands on my breasts. Our bodies moved as one. I felt the telltale tightening in you.

“I’m cumming!” you groaned, and I moaned as you released inside me, your warmth spreading deep. That tipped me over the edge again.

Spent, trembling, we collapsed onto the blanket. The firelight danced over our skin. The sea whispered beside us.

We didn’t speak.

We didn’t need to.

Wrapped in each other’s arms, we fell asleep to the sound of waves and wind, wild, free, and more alive than we’d ever dared to be. { Family Camping Trip }

Mr. Jack

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Mr. Jack is the editor of EroticWild.com, overseeing the quality and consistency of all our content. He’s responsible for curating our talented team of sex and relationship writers, ensuring every piece aligns with our mission to educate and empower