A quick masturbation and a relaxed rest

Sharing a Tent, Saturday morning

The light in the tent is brighter as your eyes flutter open and you stretch your arms above your head. You slept like a rock, but the pad isn’t terribly comfortable, and you feel like you could use another couple hours of sleep.

Your hair is a mess, wet with sweat from your hot night. You realize you’ve woken up in a puddle of your own salty drool, which has dried against your face. Gross, you say to yourself, wiping your mouth and swallowing the drool that seems to have caked against the inside of your cheek.

You look over to see Patrick’s face poking out of his sleeping bag. You remember that he’s naked, and the thought of his nude body instantly turns you on. You slip your hands under your blanket and touch yourself, remembering the dark outline of Patrick’s cock. It doesn’t take long for you to bring yourself to a small orgasm, but it doesn’t relieve your lust. You continue to play with yourself, thinking of the boys who had stripped and swum before you, visions of their cocks—some larger, some smaller—driving you wild.

You rub yourself vigorously, and in the heat of the tent, you move aside the uncomfortable blanket to give yourself move flexibility. You pinch a nipple with one hand while you fuck yourself with the other, and a deep moan escapes your lips as you cum hard. You lie back on your mat, tired again after all that exertion.

Your dress, which you’d been using as a pillow, must have gotten pushed aside somewhere, and you can’t see it right now. You don’t want to wake up Patrick by looking for it, so you roll onto your side, place your head against your arms, and drift back to sleep, a satisfied smile on your face.