Isabella and I

I was a teenager in high school the summer that my father decided to cancel our annual camping trip for the third year in a row. I know that most teenagers would have been perfectly fine with missing out on a one on one week-long camping trip with a parent, but this was our tradition ever since I was a little boy; A fun trip out to a remote tropical beach, private and owned by my father, where we’d pitch a tent on the sandy shore, cook fresh fish and crabs over a driftwood fire pit, and swim out in the crystal blue ocean. But lately my father had gotten into the bad habit of canceling on me so that he could attend to some “important business” for work. I remember being really bummed out about it at the time. “What do you want me to do, sport?” My dad asked me that morning over breakfast, after breaking the bad news. “You know how important this merger is to the company. I should stay and oversee the procedures. You understand.” I reminded him that he had canceled our trip last year, and the year before that as well. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised.

I was sitting at the kitchen island with a sullen look on my face, drooped over my breakfast, when my dad’s girlfriend walked in. “Morning, cuties,” Isabella greeted us. She draped an arm across my back, bent over my shoulder and placed a quick kiss on my cheek, stealing a half of my bagel as she rose and crossed over to my father. I perked up some at the sight of her. Isabella had been dating my father for about two years. She was much younger than he was, still in her mid-twenties, and fresh from France. And she was gorgeous; her dark brunette hair always hung down in long curls, stopping at the small of her back and drawing attention to her trim waist. She had a curving set of hips made for holding, long legs, and a nicely shaped ass that I knew must have looked fantastic in a thong. She had decently sized breasts that were always perky, full pouty lips, dark eyes, and a stunning olive complexion. The woman was all around sexy, and the raging, hormonal, teenaged beast inside of me wanted nothing more than to get inside of her. There were times that I was envious of my father for having found Isabella first. “Morning, Bella,” I greeted back, using the shortened version of her name that she liked so much. It was a habit I had fallen into whenever she was around, and one day Isabella told me that she loved it when I called her “Bella,” so I never stopped. It became a kind of pet name for her that only I used. Still, there must have been a heavy tone to my voice, obvious with disappointment, because Isabella immediately turned back to look at me after kissing my father. “What is zis long face you ‘ave?” She asked me in that tantalizing French accent of hers. “He’s upset because I had to cancel our trip. Which he knows isn’t my fault.” My father told her, before I could put my own spin on it.

After about ten minutes of my father apologizing and me telling him how much the situation sucked, Isabella offered to take me on the camping trip in my dad’s place. “I ‘ave nothing to do zis week anyway,” she cheerily assured me. “It will be fun, no? I love zee beach!” The promise of watching Isabella prance around in a bikini was alluring, but I was still a teenager, and I didn’t think that having to hide a throbbing erection from her for a straight week, and trying to avoid total embarrassment, would be all that fun. “Um, thanks, Bella, but I don’t…” I began to stammer out, raking my brain for something to say, some excuse I could give without hurting her feelings. “Sounds like a great idea to me,” my father piped in. “Problem solved!” He took a sip of coffee, giving me a look over the brim of his mug that said ‘Don’t be rude, damn it.’ I really had no choice but to accept Isabella’s offer. At least this way I would still get my trip. “Perfect! I will go pack. We leave first zing tomorrow morning, no?” She kissed me on the check again and disappeared upstairs.

My father had already left for work by the time I woke up next morning. I met Isabella in the kitchen and sat down to breakfast with her. She was dressed in a slimming black tank top and a pair of denim shorty shorts. She also wore a pair of tan hiking boots, knowing that the trail up to our private beach reserve was a narrow path trekking through palm trees. “Zis beach is, how you say, nude, no?” Isabella casually asked, almost making me choke on my orange juice. “Well, I mean, it’s private so, um, no one would be around,” I babbled, trying not to make eye contact. Isabella started laughing. “I am only teasing!” She admitted. “Oh, I am sorry, your father told me it would be a funny joke to ask you zis.” Fighting to hide my annoyance, I grinned and pretended to laugh with her. After a quick breakfast, we grabbed our packs and hit the road. The drive across Florida from the house took about four hours. By time we pulled into the parking lot for the beach reserves, a dark mass of storm clouds had gathered overhead. “Looks like some pretty heavy rain is heading our way,” I told Isabella as we pulled our packs from the trunk of her car. She worriedly glanced up at the sky. “We’ll be fine, so long as we can pitch the tent before the storm starts,” I said. “But we better hurry.” I lead her out of the parking lot and into the lush, green, palm forest. The air was sticky with humidity and the trail we had to follow went mostly uphill, so I was drenched in sweat after we had made it about halfway up. When we stopped for a water break, I couldn’t help sneaking quick little glances over at Isabella. Her skin was glistened with sweat, and since she was pointedly against the wearing of bras, the perspiration caused the cloth of her tank top to cling to her breasts, outlining her little nipples. When she dipped her water bottle over beneath her neck I watched as the light streams of water spilled down to her chest and disappeared between her cleavage, fighting the urge to roll my eyes back and inhale deeply.

Thunder boomed out overhead, rolling across the sky like a massive drum. We picked up our pace, but it was too late; The sky broke open and delivered a torrential downpour onto us. Lightening cracked like whips through the clouds. The trail grew grey with the dim light of the hidden sun, making it difficult to spot any branches lying across the path. Isabella’s foot slipped over a slick patch of mud and she came tripping into me. I braced myself against the sudden strike, and the pressure of her body against my back forced me to smile. “Sacrebleu!” She cursed, wrapping her arms around to my chest for support. “Zis trail is so dangerous.” After that, Isabella kept a firm grip on my forearm, sometimes clutching my hand for balance if she felt like she was going to slip again. When we finally reached the end of the trail and broke through the palm forest, the sight of the beach was a welcomed relief, despite its grey demeanor and the rough churning of the sea.

We rushed to pitch the tent, hindered all the while by whipping gusts of wind and stinging grains of sand. We crawled through the tent flap, sealed it shut behind us, and immediately rolled out our sleeping bags and blankets. We were soaked from head to toe, and the storm had sucked all the warmth from the tropical air. We were both shivering violently, and wouldn’t be able to make a fire for a good couple of hours. I was an experienced camper, trained by my father, and I knew that the chance of hypothermia was very real and not something to be taken lightly. My father had taken Isabella camping in the woods a few times, so I knew that he must have taught her some basic survival skills. I hoped that the lessons had prepared her for what I had to say next; “We need to get out of our wet clothes, Bella,” I said through chattering teeth, trying to sound as stern as possible while fighting the shaking. She looked at me apprehensively, but I could tell that she knew why I had said it. “Here,” I said, handing her a towel from my pack. It wasn’t completely dry, some of the rain had soaked through our packs, but it was better than what we were wearing. Isabella turned away from me and pulled her tank top up over her head. I did the same with my t-shirt, turning around to offer her some privacy. My pants came down next. Behind me, I heard the zipper of her shorts go down. We kicked our soggy socks off next. “Underwear too,” Isabella reminded me. I was happy that she couldn’t see my face redden.

Once I was completely naked I hastily padded myself down with a towel and crawled into my sleeping bag. As I pulled up one of the blankets for some extra warmth, I caught a glimpse of Isabella, naked and shuffling into her sleeping bag. Her nipples had gone hard against the cold, and her breasts jiggled as she squirreled under the coverings. I pretended not to have noticed and began tucking in the edges of my blanket. “Zis is a crazy way to start our trip, no?” She asked in a shaky voice.

“I’ll head out to the firewood shack once the rain stops,” I promised. “Get a fire going.”

“My ‘ero,” she smiled softly. The charm in her features always mesmerized me, but it was broken when she gave a sudden shiver. “It is still too cold,” she moaned. “I know, but we can’t build the fire in this storm.” Isabella shifted closer, drawing her sleeping bag closer to mine. “You alright?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even. “We must conserve body heat, no? Your father told me. Come closer. Scooch!” She sidled her sleeping bag right up to mine until I could feel our hips press together. Tentatively, I slid my arm under her neck, and she accepted it, nuzzling her wet head against my shoulder. She sighed out, softly, and whispered “You’re warm.” She placed a cold hand against my chest, and I shivered. “Sorry,” she said, giggling at my reaction. “Zis is better, no?” She asked as she began slide her hand back and forth over my bare chest, warming and massaging me. “Much better,” I replied. I didn’t imagine that she was deliberately trying to be intimate. She just thought that she was taking care of me. But nevertheless, her hand massaging my chest like that drove me crazy, and the image of her naked tits kept popping into my mind. Under the sleeping bag, my cock started to grow hard. This was decidedly worse than anything I had been imagining. It isn’t very easy to hide an erection from a beautiful, naked woman who is practically laying right on top of you. I shifted my hips whenever I felt in danger of Isabella’s leg rubbing up against my dick. Sleeping bags between us or no, I had a feeling that the woman would be able to identify an erected dick if she felt one pressing up against her. And at my age, erections tended to be ragging.

“Are you well?” Isabella asked me, after the fourth time I had shifted around under my sleeping bag. I assured her that I was fine, but she had begun to lightly scratch my chest with the tips of her fingernails, and my cock had only gotten firmer and logger. At one point the sound of a cracking branch pierced the noises of the storm, and Isabella jumped in fright, lifting her head up to peer through one of the tent windows. Her breasts came away from the floor, and being a head taller than she was I had no trouble peering down her sleeping bag to get a good look. This really didn’t help matters. My cock pulsed, as if urging me to make a move, and I inwardly cursed. Once Isabella settled down again, she dropped her head back down to my shoulder, and her hand slid down from my chest to rest on my stomach. The tip of my erected cock stopped right at my belly button, a mere three inches below Isabella’s hand. All it would take is a slip of her hand, or another sudden pulse of my erection, and she’d be touching it. I never felt so nervous in all my life. Still, at the same time, I felt an odd giddiness boiling up from within. A big part of me wanted her to touch it, almost wished it, for her hand to wrap around my thick shaft. I wanted to see her eyes go wide with shock, just before I drew her in and kissed her on those pretty, pouting lips. But this was nothing more than a teenage fantasy, I knew, and I was worried that if Isabella found my erection she would freak out, call my father, and never look at me the same again. “We should try to get some sleep,” I spoke up. “The storm could last all day.” She nodded in agreement. “I will try.” I took the opportunity to abruptly turn over on my side, away from her. Relief flooded through me as her hand slid away from my stomach, over my hip, and dropped off my body. I closed my eyes and tried to prepare for sleep. Then I felt Isabella shuffling around behind me. She pressed her body up against my back. Her hand came up under my arm and clung to my chest. “Sleep well,” she whispered into my ear as she pecked a kiss on my check. I felt her nipples brush against the back of my neck.

Sleep did not come easy after that. An hour and a half had passed, and the sounds of the storm still ragged on outside the tent. Howling winds and distant crashes of thunder. Isabella had fallen asleep quickly enough. Her deep breathing caused her chest to press up against my back, and the arm she had wrapped around my body held me tightly. My erection never went down, and my tension remained high. Horny and agitated, I rolled over, turning Isabella away from me at the same time. Her sleeping bag fell away from her naked body as she rolled to the other side, she had forgotten to zip it up. I traced her curves with my eyes. Those round hips framed her shapely ass nicely, and the small of her back dipped in with a cute little dimple. Isabella’s breathing remained soft and steady, the only one of us who was sleeping soundly. I decided enough was enough; This woman seemed intent on keeping me hard all day long, and if I was going to have any fun on this trip whatsoever, I needed to stop obsessing over embarrassment and childish concerns. We were in a survival situation after all, and it was time to man up. I unzipped my own sleeping bag, and my hard cock sprang up in freedom. I inched closer to Isabella, nestled right up behind her, and pulled a blanket up over our bodies, blocking out the chilled air. The shaft of my cock slid up along her round cheeks, my tip gently grazing the small of her back. Isabella moaned softly and wiggled her hips some, backing into me, but she did not wake. I decided that if she could cling all over me, I could do the same, so I placed my hand on her hip and squeezed. After a few moments of that, I slid my grip around to her chest and took one of her perky tits into my hand. I cupped and massaged her, and she moaned again. Her hand came up to mine and wrapped around my fingers. I could feel her hand mimicking the motion of mine, encouraging me to massage her tit.

With my cock pressed up against Isabella’s ass, and our hands interlocked over her chest, I felt at peace. The raging beast within had begun to calm. Still, Isabella’s reactions to my touch awoke a new hunger. I remember thinking that it was a bad idea to press my luck, and I remember the voice in the back of my mind, urging me on all the same. I lowered my hand, away from her chest, and slid my palm along her flat stomach. The tips of my fingers stopped at her naval piercing, and I hesitated for a moment, staring at the back of her head to see if she would stir. When nothing happened, I lowered my hand some more. The fingers dipped below the piercing and sailed over her warm body. My hand gripped her thigh and I squeezed, lightly at first, testing the waters. Then, with a bit more confidence, I squeezed again, pulling her leg away this time. She complied, and that only caused my confidence level to rise. Gently, I slid my hand over her thigh until my fingers found her lips. I was surprised to find her wet. When I began to massage her clit, Isabella moaned again, a deep, long, sigh of a moan, and her thighs separated some more. In her sleep, she gently rolled onto her back. For a moment, I wondered if she was waking, but her eyes did not open.

I massaged her some more, dipping a finger between her lips once, twice, and her breathing grew heavier. Isabella became more and more wet the quicker my fingers played with her. I slid my middle finger inside her, and continued to stroke her clit with my thumb. Her hips began to sway and lift from the floor, flowing with the motion of my hand. Isabella breathed out, “Yes, yes,” in a sensual whisper, followed by another soft moan. I wondered if she was dreaming of my father, but I hoped that she was dreaming of me. My hand came away soaked and sticky with her juices, and a sly grin crept its way across my face. Now we can both spend this trip being horny as hell, I thought, cocky with my achievement. When I settled back, Isabella turned over and simultaneously wrapped her arm and leg over me. Her face came up to my neck, and she began to kiss me there. She started softly, no different than the quick pecks she gave me on the cheek, but then her mouth grew hungry, and she started to kiss my neck with more force. I could feel the tip of her tongue flick against my skin, and the sensation sent goosebumps down my chest. She moaned in her sleep again, and her leg constricted across my lap. I played with her hair as she began to bite at my neck, wishing that I could know what was going on inside of her head just then. My erection pulsed, harder than ever, and I could feel the heaviness in my testicles.

Without thought or hesitation, I lifted Isabella up on top of me with ease. Her nipples were stiff, and they tickled my skin as her tits pressed down against my chest. One of my hands went to her ass as she straddled me, I kept the other hand on the back of her thigh. I could feel how wet she still was as the shaft of my hard cock became gripped between her lips. Isabella moaned and began to stir, and I knew that this was it; I could hardly turn back now, and I did not want to. I kissed at her neck as I shifted my hips. My cock rose, and the tip found her soaking lips. I lifted my hips and arched my back, and my cock plunged inside her. Isabella woke then, with a gasp. I dropped and lifted my hips, and my cock slid into her again, deeper this time. Her brown eyes opened wide to lock with mine, all traces of sleep melted away. She did not seem to understand where she was at first, or what was happening, but another thrust changed that. She moaned and gasped again, her eyelids fluttered as she fought to keep them focused on my face. “What…” she began to ask. I squeezed her ass and breathed out, “Shhhh,” and she fell silent. “Oh, oh, god,” Isabella sighed. Her forehead came down to mine, and she gazed deeply into my eyes. She wove her fingers through my hair as I thrust myself into her again. I kissed her mouth, hungry and passionate, felt her tongue find mine.

She rose from our kiss and sat up straight, lifting one of my hands up to her chest. She dipped and swayed her hips with my thrusts, matching me stroke for stroke. I stopped thrusting and let her ride me. Her pussy never left my shaft for more than a second. Each time she swayed back she would dip back down, hard, taking me inside of her with shouts and curses. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Isabella moaned as she rode me faster. Outside the tent, the winds howled and thunder boomed, as if in answer to her wild calls. My hand squeezed her tits, slid up her chest, and griped her throat.

Turning, I tossed her off me and pinned her to the blanket covered floor. She smiled up at me as she lifted a hand to grip my cock. I kept the hand on her throat as she guided me down between her thighs. Her legs wrapped around my hips as I pushed myself inside her, and we moaned together. She raked my back with her nails when I began to fuck her faster, the pain only drove me on. I pounded her hard and fast, and she screamed at the top of her lungs, begging me not to stop. “Bella,” I sighed, “Oh, fuck, Bella!” She called my name. I could feel my cock start to throb as her pussy began to squeeze around my shaft. “I’m cumming,” she told me. “oh, god, I’m going to fucking cum!” I felt a sudden gush of warmth and wetness. My cock throbbed harder as I took her faster. My eyes rolled back and I cummed, hard. When I pulled out of her, my shaft was dripping with our mixed juices. I collapsed down beside her. We smiled at each other as we fought to catch our breaths. Her hand went to my back, her fingers tracing the scratch marks she had left in my skin. She pressed her face close to mine and kissed me once on the cheek. “I think I want to break up with your father,” Isabella whispered in my ear.

 “Probably a good idea,” I answered. Sleep came easy after that.

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