Brad's Road Trip

Note: This is the fourth chapter in what will probably be a fairly long series. If you haven't read Chapters 1-3, this section won't make any sense. Thanks for reading! Feedback is appreciated! Special thanks to LilTexasSexFiend for helping me clean it up.

Day 3 June 14 Tulsa, OK

You never know what your first thought will be on any given day.

Like yesterday, my first thought was: How exactly can I blow up the sun and stop it from blinding my ass while not simultaneously destroying life as we know it?

The day before that, it wasn't so much a coherent thought as it was a single word: Bluuuuuuhhhhhhhhhh.

Other times, I woke up wishing I didn't have to go to work that day, wishing that I hadn't drank so much the day before, or wishing that the acronym "PT" in the Marine Corps stood for Party Time. Platoon Transfer. Even Piss Test, since I'd never done drugs. Anything besides what it actually stood for: Physical Training, which usually meant six or seven miles of running and a few thousands pushups at O'dark 30 in the morning.

There were many times the first thought was, "What do I do with this erection?" Unfortunately, there were a lot fewer times that the answer to that question was laying in bed next to me instead of attached to my body just below the wrist.

This morning, though? I could safely say this was the first time ever my first waking thought was Steven Tyler.

You know who I'm talking about. The lead singer for Aerosmith, the guy who looks like he's 70 years old but can still figure out how to turn a random song lyric into an invitation for an orgy. The man behind one of life's great paradoxical questions: How can a man so ugly be the biological father of a woman so damn hot?

But, thankfully, I wasn't thinking about his face. Not so thankfully, I wasn't even thinking about his daughter, Liv Tyler. I was thinking about his voice, as the song "Pink" ran through my head just as if a stereo was behind me playing the CD.

It was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes - pink. And instead of thinking about the color, or about any of the many things in life that happen to be that color, my first thought was, in the vein of Aerosmith, "Pink - it was love at first sight."

After I'd sung through the chorus once in my mind - not the easiest thing to do at.. whatever time it was - I realized it was a pink sleeping bag. I knew the sleeping bag I was in was black and blue. Was Becky's sleeping bag pink? Oh, fuck. Had she--?

No. The hair peeking out of the sleeping bag was blonde. I sighed in relief, but then, the obvious question swam to the surface - who the fuck was this?

I felt a tap on my shoulder from behind me, and immediately turned over to see Zia grinning at me. She was in her own sleeping bag, this one purple, and it was zipped up to her neck. I could tell she was topless though, because there was nothing on her arm or shoulders - no sleeves or straps, and if there was such a thing as a strapless nightie, I'd never seen one. Unless she was wearing sexy lingerie under there, which would be an odd thing to bring camping.

"Good morning," I said, wanting very much to ask what was going on. I could see the tent divider zipped up behind her, and could pretty much guess that the other half of the tent, the one closest to the door, was empty.

"Surprise," she said tentatively, not totally sure how I was going to take it.

"A very nice one," I said. "I'm going to guess that's Belinda behind me?"

She nodded.

"Very nice, again," I said. A thought popped into my head, and I wanted to dismiss it immediately, but for some reason I couldn't. "Umm, Zia?"

"Yeah?"

"The three of us didn't..." I didn't finish, but I didn't have to.

"No," she said, slapping me on the shoulder. "And you'd better fucking remember it if we did."

I laughed softly. As far as I knew, Belinda was still asleep.

"Now, the two of us, on the other hand," she said, still grinning. "Different story."

"Really?" I said, not quite gathering her meaning. Had she and I done something without Belinda?

"Yeah, but not over here," she said. "We did it on our side of the tent. Then we moved over here."

Ah, I thought to myself. Hopefully the look on my face didn't give me away.

"Why are you over here anyway?" I asked.

"We were both drunk coming back from the party," she said. "And yes, Belinda told me all about what happened yesterday morning. I dared her to sleep next to you, and she told me she would if I did. But hands were roaming on the way back, and we couldn't stop ourselves. When we finished up, we pulled our sleeping bags over here."

"Damn," I said.

"What?"

"Trying to figure out what would be a suitable punishment for myself for sleeping through two hot women having sex with each other three feet away from me."

She laughed now, and I put a hand over her mouth to quiet her down so Belinda could sleep.

"Well, whatever you come up with, don't be too hard on yourself," she said. "You may have missed the first performance, but there might be a re-run on tonight."

Now it was my turn to smile. So I was looking forward to tonight, but that left 12 or so hours between now and then, and I wasn't keen on waiting.

"Zia, dear. Why are you not wearing any clothes?"

I was guessing about her being naked below the waist, but the look on her face told me I was right. She immediately pulled her free arm back in, but I was already working on the zipper to her sleeping bag. With her hands in, she couldn't stop me.

"Brad, don't!" she said.

"Oh, why not?"

"I told you yesterday," she said. "I'm not into guys."

"And I think we both know that's not true," I said. "After all, there are two people in this tent with you. You're sleeping closer to the one with a dick than the one without."

"We wanted to give you a treat when you woke up, to have a woman on either side of you."

"Oh," I said, as if that made sense. It did, actually. But it didn't explain something else. "So, then, why are you blushing like you've been caught red-handed?"

Now, she had no response. I stopped working on the zipper for a second, but I knew what I needed to do to push this further.

"Let me guess," I started. "Belinda told you about my cock. About how big it is, about how nice it looked, how she came all over herself when I moved it so close to her face that she could almost stick her tongue out and lick the head. Didn't she?"

I didn't get a response, but just like before, I didn't need one. Zia's eyes were half-closed now. I'd slid up close to her now, and I was now whispering in her ear.

"You want to see it, don't you? You want to see if it's as big as she said it was. You want to touch it, and see if it feels better than those dildos you're used to."

She didn't respond, and I was too busy admiring the way her neck and upper chest were flushing to look at her face.

"Don't you?"

She didn't really agree, or disagree. Actually, I'm not sure what language her response was in. It wasn't quite a moan, or a groan, or even humming. Whatever it was, though, it was a noise that let me know she liked what she was hearing.

I noticed her shoulder was flexing, and I could only guess what she was doing underneath the purple fabric. I returned my hands to the zipper of the sleeping bag. If she noticed, she didn't stop me.

The first things that popped into view, obviously, were her breasts. They were not as firm as Becky's, which struck me as a bit odd, since I figured Becky was at least a couple years older than Zia. Still, they were either a C- or D-cup, with large areola surrounding two very hard nipples. As I moved the zipper lower, I could see that she had a little bit of meat on her bones. Nowhere near fat, but no one would be asking her to model anytime soon. At least, not the Victoria's Secret-type modeling.

Still, I found thicker women just as attractive as I did smaller girls, and found myself incredibly turned on by what I saw. I still had my boxers on, but I could feel my dick poking through the opening in front and rubbing against the inside of my sleeping bag.

Zia must have noticed the cold air on her body, because her eyes snapped open and looked down at my hand on the zipper. I stopped for the moment to see how she would react, but her smile told me all I needed to know.

"I'm cold, Brad," she said, and I grinned as I slid my sleeping bag closer to her, so close that her nipples were touching my bag. I moved my hand to my own zipper, and as I pulled it down to open my sleeping bag, the back of my hand brushed against her nipples. She bristled noticeably.

"Ah, you like that, huh?" I asked, asking perhaps one of the most rhetorical questions of all time. She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes as I pulled up even closer, so my bare chest was now pressed directly against hers. I unzipped my sleeping bag the rest of the way and draped the open side of mine over hers. Once I finished unzipping her sleeping bag, our bodies were in full contact, with the sleeping bags forming a makeshift blanket over us. My boxers provided the only boundary between us, and I was sure she could feel my cock pressing up against her.

I was looking at her face as I placed my right hand on her left hip, just north of where all the action was happening. She opened her eyes again and shot me a curious glance. I couldn't be sure, but she seemed to be asking me just how far I was willing to take this.

In response, my hand caressed her hip for a few seconds, then slipped down to cover her own hand, which was feverishly working in between her legs. She stopped what she was doing and locked her gaze onto me, internally deciding if she wanted to keep going, now that I had answered her unspoken question.

After a few seconds, she slowly moved her own hand out from under mine, sliding it up her stomach and cupping her left breast. That left only my hand on her naked pussy, and I could feel the sticky heat emanating from her almost immediately.

I had a few smartass comments in my mind, but I bit them all back. She probably was closer to a lesbian than I wanted to admit, so this constituted a pretty big leap of faith for her. She could probably do without my sarcasm right now.

I began by slowly massaging the area with two fingers, using them to squeeze her pussy lips together then slowly pull them apart. I let my middle finger rest right on her slit, without dipping it in or rubbing any part of her with it. My thumb sat about an inch above her clit.

I thought about licking my fingers first, but there was really no point in that. She was dripping, undoubtedly leaving a nice stain inside her sleeping bag, and her own lubrication would be more than enough for me to slid my middle finger in.

It was, but she clearly wasn't ready for it to go all the way in just one quick thrust. She inhaled sharply as my finger sank in as far as it would go in my current position, and she looked at me tentatively, not sure if she really wanted me to continue. I gave her my best smile, which she tried to return, and began slowly wiggling my finger around inside her.

Just like it had every other time I'd fingered a girl, my finger felt like it was in a furnace. Her juices were incredibly hot and incredibly plentiful, and I could feel some sliding down my finger and onto my palm, and even a little bit made it onto my wrist and began running down my arm.

After she had a few moments to adjust, I started pumping my fingers in and out. I went slowly at first, but as her face heated up, I picked up the pace. Her left arm, the one that had been working her pussy a few moments before, reached in between our bodies and gripped my cock. She started jerking me off slowly, but her motions were pretty erratic. I had no way of knowing if that was because of her inexperience with dick, or because I was being far too effective with my hand for her hand to do anything smoothly.

Either way, it didn't matter; this wasn't about me. My mind thought back to what Zia had said a few seconds before, about the re-run later tonight, and I also remembered what she'd said yesterday, about having a chance to change her mind. I knew I would get mine, and I figured the girl slumbering behind me would probably have something to do with it, too. For now, it was all about making Zia cum while staring into a man's face.

I have no idea how long it took, or when it started. All I know is that all the sudden, Zia was cumming. She buried her face in my shoulder and let out a scream that I'm sure anyone around could hear despite the fact that my arm mostly muffled it. Her entire body tensed up like she was being electrocuted, which included her hand gripping my cock like it was the only thing stopping her from sinking to the bottom of the ocean. And finally, my hand suddenly got soaked. Not wet, mind you. Not even slippery. Someone could have poured a bucket of water onto my right arm, and it wouldn't have been any slicker than it was right then.

There was no buildup to this. All three - the scream, the tensing, and the flooding - happened simultaneously.

It stopped after a few seconds; maybe 20 or so, definitely no longer than half a minute. She stayed there with her head on my shoulder, not saying anything for the moment, and that was perfectly okay with me. She finally let my cock go, and rested her hand on my right hip instead.

A few minutes passed. "You okay?" I asked.

"What do you think?" she replied. She didn't look up at me, so I couldn't see the smile I knew was there.

"I'm not sure what to think," I said. "I've never seen a woman cum that quickly from getting fingered."

She chuckled. "Well, it's not that often I have something inside me."

"Belinda doesn't use anything?"

"Brad," Zia said. "When I said first performance a while ago, I didn't mean of the day."

"Oh," I said, smartly. Damn me and my need to sleep. "I just figured she was your girlfriend."

"She is, but shame on you," she said, grinning now. "Do YOU always sleep with girlfriends on the first date?"

I didn't do girlfriends. But did I put out on the first date? Dumb question.

"Okay, okay," I said. "You don't have vibrators? Dildos? Whatever else you might use to get yourself off?"

"I do, but I don't use them by myself much," she said. "When it's just me, it's usually just my fingers. And I can't get them in as deep as you just did."

"That's what happens when you use an arm that's not attached to your shoulder."

She smiled. Her eyes closed, and her face suddenly relaxed. Her breathing slowed considerably as I watched.

"I thought guys were the ones who fell asleep after cumming," I said.

"We'll find out later," she replied. A few seconds later, she was out.

I slowly rolled over, making sure she stayed covered by her own sleeping bag as I went. I'd felt something rustle behind me while Zia and I were talking, and wanted to see how much Belinda had caught.

"You're not asleep," I said. It wasn't a question.

"Zia's not usually that loud," was the reply. She was facing away from me, in pretty much the same position she'd been in before I turned over.

"Yeah, about that. Have fun with her when you start using toys."

"I heard," she said. "Your talk after wasn't that quiet, either."

I nodded, though I'm not sure who was going to see that and take it as my response. I really had no idea what to think about Belinda. This time yesterday, she'd been staring at my cock as if it held some sort of answer to the world's energy crisis. Now I find she has a girlfriend. Hmm.

With that in mind, I have no idea what came over me, but I spooned Belinda, with our sleeping bags between us. I wrapped my right arm behind her head, to where my hand flopped down in front of her face.

"Smell anything familiar?"

Belinda said nothing, but I could hear her sniffing.

"I do," she said.

"I was tempted to lick them clean myself," I said. "But I think maybe you'd like to instead."

She didn't say anything, but I quickly felt something warm and wet on my index finger. Sure enough, Belinda's tongue snaked all over my fingers, audibly slurping up everything she could. She took her time with it, too, carefully sucking in each finger to make sure she got it all. Then she started licking my palm.

"You know, I _was_ going to wash my hands later, I promise," I said.

I heard her chuckle, but her real response came when she sucked my middle finger into her mouth, but this time, it wasn't to get the juices. I only figured that part out when she slid it out of her mouth, only to quickly suck it back between her lips. Basically, she was simulating a sloppy blowjob on my middle finger.

Either Belinda was a switch-hitter, or she was one hell of a cocktease. And with women, it wasn't necessarily a safe bet to assume either.

She spent a few more minutes cleaning her plate, then she slipped her hand into mine, holding it in front of her face. Neither she nor I said anything for a long while, and while I had initially planned on offering her what Zia had just received, I heard her breathing get heavier a few minutes later. She was falling sleep as well, and I realized it probably wasn't any later than 7 a.m. I could have used a bit more sleep myself, too, so I decided to save my plans for later. A minute later, I was out.

******

"I think I'm a little jealous," I heard Kelly's voice say about five hours later. Immediately, I got anxious. I also remembered exactly why relationships and I mix about as well as Republicans and common sense.

I'd only been awake for an hour. After my early-morning festivities with the girls in the tent, we'd all gone back to sleep, and when I woke up a few hours later, they were both gone. They'd both left me a present though - wrapped up inside my sleeping bag with me were two pairs of panties. One was a blue thong, and the other was a white lacy number. I didn't know which belonged to which girl, but a quick sniff revealed that both had been worn recently. I'd have been willing to bet they were the panties they'd been wearing on their way back to the tent, just before their little rendezvous on the other side of the divider.

When I got out of the tent, I realized that almost everyone was gone. I heard some snoring from the other tent, but when I checked, it was just Bobby. No sign of J.T., Paul or any of the girls.

I made my way to the showers and rinsed off quickly. I'd had sex or something like it three times since my last shower, and I could tell. I figured the only reason I'd gotten laid last night and messed around this morning is because we were all in the same place - we all smelled the same out here. Showering once every three times you had sex in the real world was a quick way to never have sex again. Then you'd never shower and - bleh.

On the way back, I decided to give Kelly a call and fill in her on the evening I'd had with Becky while I took the leisurely way back to the tent. She had worked from 6 a.m. to 11 a.m. and was off until that night around 9 p.m., so I went into great detail with her. I told her all about it - how I made Becky cum five times, how I fucked her for well over an hour straight, how I finally came on her chest and how she rubbed it in so sexily that it almost made me get hard again. She was worked up pretty quickly and got off in no time, which was why it surprised me when she told me she was jealous.

I mean, this was all her idea, damnit - at least the telling her all the details part. I'd planned on getting laid as much as humanly possible long before she ever entered the picture. I would have been more than happy to be like the Army and institute a 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' policy with Kelly, where I did whatever I wanted, she knew it was probably happening but didn't care to know the specifics, and I just went about my business.