Nobody Was Going to See Us in That Forest Clearing

It had been his idea from the start. Not the trip itself—that we had planned together for weeks, marking routes on the phone, arguing over whether we should spend more time at the viewpoints or get lost in the small towns. I mean the van. Darío had spent months talking about converting it into a camper: lining the windows with a dark, thick fabric, installing a custom mattress over the reclining seats, adding a portable fridge in the gap between the backs. I listened to him with a certain amount of skepticism the whole time, even when he started bringing fabric samples home and taking measurements with a tape measure, and in the end I had to admit the result was far more impressive than I had imagined.

We left on a Friday afternoon without reservations, without a fixed itinerary, with only the approximate route drawn on paper and the freedom to stop wherever we felt like. The first day we spent at a waterfall we had found on an old map Darío had kept in the glove compartment for who knows how long. The second afternoon, after visiting three viewpoints and stopping at a roadside market where we bought cured cheese and a bottle of wine we still hadn’t opened, we reached a raised, empty lot that didn’t appear on any app.

It was the perfect place.

A patch of dry earth surrounded by pines, with a gentle slope down toward the valley and the sun still high enough to tint the clouds orange without having fully set. Darío parked backing up to the hillside so the trunk would face directly toward the view. He opened the rear hatch, which rose with that soft mechanical sound I had already grown used to after two days, and we both stood there for a few seconds looking at the landscape without saying a word.

“This is ridiculously beautiful,” I said at last.

“Yeah,” he replied, sounding distracted, as if he were thinking about something else.

I sat on the edge of the trunk with my legs hanging out. Darío sat beside me. The temperature had dropped a couple of degrees with the arrival of the afternoon and the air smelled of pine and dry earth. The valley spread out beneath us in ochres and deep greens, with the occasional white village visible in the distance. We stayed like that for a while, our shoulders touching, watching the light change slowly.

“Hey,” he said suddenly.

“What?”

“Want to fuck?”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. The question had come as naturally as if he’d suggested opening the bottle of wine or looking for a radio station. He said it while looking straight ahead, toward the valley, without a shred of drama.

“And that’s how you ask me?” I replied.

“Come on.” He turned to me. He had that expression of his that wasn’t exactly a request, more something halfway between an invitation and a challenge. “We’re all covered up, we’re in the middle of nowhere. Who’s going to see us?”

His hand landed on my thigh and started sliding upward very slowly, without hurry, giving me time to answer or move it away. His fingers slipped under my shorts, climbed along the inside of my thigh until they brushed my groin over the fabric of my thong, and stayed there, pressing with the pad of his thumb right where I was already starting to feel the heat.

I didn’t move it away.

Nobody’s going to see us, I thought. And that was exactly the problem. Or rather, the reason I felt something ignite at the base of my stomach and run, liquid and thick, down between my legs.

I went for his mouth. We kissed with that dirty slowness of people who already know how it ends: tongues all the way in, bites to the lip, saliva. I ran my hand over his jeans and there it was already, his cock hard, pressing against the fabric, thick under my palm. I pulled down the zipper without breaking the kiss, slipped my hand into his underwear, and took him out into the air. Hot, tight, with the tip already wet with a thick thread that stuck to my thumb.

“Fuck,” he muttered against my mouth.

I squeezed the base of him with my hand, made a couple of slow passes from root to head, twisting my wrist over the tip the way I knew drove him crazy. He slipped his hand inside my shorts, pushed my thong aside, and ran two fingers over my cunt from top to bottom, opening me up with deliberate slowness.

“You’re soaked.”

“I know.”

“From what?”

“From you, idiot.”

He laughed softly. He shoved his middle finger in without warning, knuckle deep, and curved it, searching for the spot inside. I arched against his hand and let out a gasp that vanished into the clean air of the clearing. He slid his index finger in too. Both fingers went in and out with a wet, obscene sound that would have embarrassed me anywhere else and did absolutely nothing to me there, in the middle of nowhere.

***

I remember thinking the position was awkward, on my knees on the mattress with my upper body hanging out over the open trunk. But that discomfort disappeared pretty quickly once I had his cock in front of my face. Darío was sitting on the edge with his legs hanging outside, just like I had been a moment before, but now with a completely different expression, with his jeans pulled down to his knees and his hard dick pressed against his stomach.

I grabbed him by the base and pulled him away from his body. I ran my tongue underneath, from his balls to the tip, in one slow, broad lick. I went back down, sucked one testicle, then the other, tugging with my lips without biting. When I reached the top again I traced a circle around the head with my tongue, playing with the frenulum, and he let out his breath in a rush.

“Don’t tease.”

“I am going to tease.”

I spat on the tip and spread the saliva with my hand, squeezing and twisting. Then I opened my mouth wide and took him in until I could feel the back of my palate. I pulled off with a wet sound, took him back in, this time deeper, forcing my throat until my eyes filled with water. His hand in my hair didn’t press too hard, just set a direction, a rhythm that wasn’t slow but wasn’t impatient either. He shoved in twice in a row until he hit the back and held it there for a second, feeling my throat close around him.

The sun was still going down.

He pulled out. A long strand of saliva ran from the head to my chin. I smiled at him with my mouth open, tongue out, letting him see the mess, and he gave a low groan that was almost a word.

“That’s it, slut. Keep going.”

I took him back in. I started blowing him for real now, with rhythm, up and down, using my hand at the base for what wouldn’t fit all the way. With my other hand I grabbed his balls, tugging them downward as I sucked, pressing the skin behind them with my thumb. Sometimes he closed his eyes. Sometimes he looked down at me with that particular focus that only appeared in moments like that, when everything else dropped out of the frame. I looked at him too, now and then, and every time our eyes met I felt something tighten in my chest. Not discomfort. Something else. Wanting him to come on my face.

His breathing changed little by little. His shoulders, which had been slightly tense at first, relaxed and then tensed again in a different way. I adjusted the rhythm instinctively, without anyone asking, following what his body was telling me. I pulled his tits out of the bra with my free hand, squeezed them myself, pinched my nipple while I kept sucking.

“I’m close,” he said in a low voice.

I didn’t stop. I sucked the tip hard, hollowing my cheek, and used my hand at the base in a fast, tight rhythm. I knew him well enough to know when to speed up and when to just hold the pace and let the moment do the rest. A few seconds later I felt the pulse of his cock against my tongue and then the thick, salty taste of the first spurt against my palate; I pulled away in time for the rest to spill in thick ropes over my chest, just above the edge of the bra, and another over my collarbone, and one stubborn drop on my right nipple.

He exhaled slowly, a long controlled sound, and kept coming in small shudders while I milked the base of him with my hand, squeezing out the last drop.

I looked up and stuck out my tongue, showing him what I’d received, a thick white pool against the red of my tongue. His eyes closed for a second. I shut my mouth and swallowed it in one gulp, exaggerating the movement of my throat, then stuck my tongue out again to show him it clean.

“I think you got me a little messy,” I said, pointing at my smeared tits.

“Hm.” He sounded satisfied and almost sleepy. “I’m very sorry.”

“You’re not sorry.”

“No. Not at all.”

I ran a finger over my cleavage, collected a thick rope of cum, and took it to my mouth without breaking eye contact. I laughed.

***

“Come here,” he said, and patted his lap softly, as if calling someone over.

I wiped off the rest with an old T-shirt we kept in the trunk for things like this and sat up. I took off my sneakers and left them by the hatch. I yanked down my shorts and thong in one go, tossed them into a corner of the mattress, and pulled my T-shirt and stained bra off over my head. I stood there completely naked. The mattress was firmer than it looked from outside, and the inside of the van smelled of the cold coffee from the morning and the cedar candle we had lit the night before, and now also of sex.

Darío was still sitting on the edge, feet outside and back against the side of the trunk, watching me move inside. Against all odds, his cock was already swelling again against his stomach. I grabbed it, ran my hand over it a couple of times to get it fully hard again, and positioned myself with my back to him, facing the valley, toward that sky that had turned a dark orange, almost red at the edges. I aimed the tip at myself, spread my pussy lips apart with two fingers of my other hand, and lowered myself slowly.

I started slowly. Only the tip first, brushing, barely sinking it in, letting the contact build on its own without rushing. I went up, then a little lower, then up again. The head went in and out making a wet sound each time, sloshing against the dampness that had built up inside me. I felt his hands on my waist, then moving up my sides until they found my breasts. He squeezed them with just enough pressure, played with my nipples for a moment, pinched them hard enough to make me hiss through my teeth, then kissed my neck, first softly, then with more insistence, sucking the skin until he left his mark.

I dropped all the way down in one motion. I knew he was fully inside when I heard myself exhale, a low, broken moan escaping my throat without permission.

“Fuck,” I gasped.

“Stay still. Hold there for a second.”

I did as he said. I stayed still with his whole cock buried to the root, feeling it pulse inside me, squeezing it from within with my muscles just to hear him curse against my shoulder. I started moving. Circles at first, grinding my pelvis against his, searching for the angle that worked best and made my clit rub against the base of his cock. Then an up-and-down rhythm I adjusted according to what I felt, rising until only the tip stayed inside and dropping all the way down. I put my hands on my own thighs for support and balance and started riding him for real. The trunk creaked a little with the movement, but held up fine. My tits bounced with every drop and he grabbed them with both hands, squeezing hard, tugging my nipples every time I let myself fall back down.

“Does fucking in the middle of nowhere turn you on?” he asked in my ear.

It took me a moment to answer because I was too busy concentrating on keeping the rhythm, not losing the angle, not coming too soon.

“Fucking you turns me on,” I said at last, breathless. “The where doesn’t matter.”

“Liar.”

“Fine. A little, yeah.”

“A little a lot. It shows.”

He slid his hand around to the front, between my legs, and started rubbing my clit with two fingers in a circle while I kept going up and down on top of him. His other hand slid down my hip, across my ass, and he put his thumb in my mouth for me to suck. I sucked it well, coating it with saliva, and then he took it out and brought it back behind me. I felt the wet pressure of his thumb pressing against my other hole, the knuckle barely entering, staying there. I arched and let out a long moan. I could feel him smiling against my neck.

The sun finished setting while we kept going like that, with his cock driven in from the front and his thumb buried from behind, his fingers on my clit setting the pace. I didn’t notice the exact moment it disappeared; I only suddenly realized that the light had changed completely and the sky had become that dark blue that appears in the ten-minute stretch before night. The first stars were already visible over the valley horizon, fixed bright points emerging one by one.

***

“Switch?” I asked when I felt I needed a different angle, that if we kept going like this I’d come too soon and I wanted to stretch it out.

“Get on all fours,” he said, without asking, without embellishment.

I stood up, feeling his cock slide out of me with a wet sound, and turned carefully. I settled on all fours at the edge of the mattress, near where the trunk ended, my ass pointed toward him and my face toward the valley. I arched my back, spread my knees, showed him everything. The outside air hit my face directly now, cool and clean, with that smell of damp earth that gets stronger as soon as the temperature drops, and it also reached me between my open legs, cold against hot, soaked flesh. I could see the stars from there. Not the three or four you see from the city: the whole sky, dense with light, the Milky Way like a smear of dust someone had spilled from one end to the other.

“Now these are good views,” Darío said from behind me.

“Very funny,” I replied, though it didn’t sound as sharp as I’d intended.

“No, seriously. What a beautiful cunt you’ve got from here. All open, all shiny.”

I felt his hands parting my ass cheeks, and then his face in there, his tongue going from top to bottom, from clit to the other hole and back again, missing nothing. He licked my cunt all the way through, slipped his tongue inside, pulled it out, went up and ran the tip over my asshole, tightening it until I gasped. He fucked me with his tongue with absolutely no shame, making noise on purpose, slurping, swallowing whatever dripped down. I pressed my face into the mattress so I wouldn’t scream too loud and even so noises I didn’t recognize kept slipping out of me.

When he finally sat back up, I felt his hand on my hip first. Then the contact, his cock rubbing up and down over my slit, not entering, the tip barely resting at the entrance to my cunt, pulling away, coming back, advancing a little more, pulling away again. He played with the anticipation very deliberately, knowing exactly what he was doing. He rubbed it over my clit, dragged it up and down over me again, tapped my lips with it a couple of times.

I held out longer than I expected.

“Fuck, put it in,” I said at last.

“Ask nicely. I like hearing you beg.”

I clicked my tongue.

“Put it in, please. Fuck me, please. Put it in all the way.”

“That’s how you ask.”

He smiled. The little pause that came just before confirmed it for me. And then he drove in all at once, all the way to the root, with a force that tore a sound out of me I hadn’t meant to make, a guttural moan that bounced off the pines. The next one was deliberate. And the next. And the next.

His rhythm was different now. More direct, less contemplative, with a clear purpose. He slammed his cock all the way in until his hips hit my ass, then pulled almost all the way out before driving in again. One hand on my hip, pulling me back to make me meet him, the other moving forward, finding the exact spot on my clit. He slapped my ass, not too hard but enough for the sound to vanish into the woods, and then again in the same place, harder, leaving my handprint on it. He grabbed my ponytail and pulled me back, arching me, never stopping his thrusts.

“Look at what you’re doing,” he said into my ear. “Look at how it takes you. Look how slutty you are.”

I looked down and saw it: his cock going in and out coated in my own slick, shining, my lips clinging to it every time he pulled back as if they didn’t want to let go. In any other circumstances it would have seemed ridiculous to me, but at that moment it was exactly what I needed to see.

Outside, the stars kept appearing.

Inside, I stopped thinking about the stars.

The sound of the forest mixed with ours in a way that’s hard to describe: the wind through the pines, some invisible night bird in a nearby tree, the creaking of the mattress and the van’s metal frame, the slapping of cock entering and leaving a soaked cunt, the hard knock of his hips against my ass, and the two of us gasping over all of it. There was nobody for miles. That certainty had something about it that made everything more intense, more free, as if the distance from everyone else stripped away the weight of the rules and left only what really mattered in that moment: two bodies fucking on the edge of a trunk, unfiltered and unrestrained.

“I’m going to come,” I warned him, and I said it with that mix of warning and disbelief I get when I’m surprised by how hard something hits.

“Do it,” he said, lowering his voice into that particular register. “Come on my cock. Let me feel that I’m the only one who can make you come like this, on all fours, in the middle of the forest, with the stars above you and my cock all the way in.”

I’m not entirely sure why those words worked as much as they did. Maybe because there was some truth in them. Maybe because he said them at exactly the moment my body was already on the edge anyway. Whatever the reason, they worked, and the orgasm hit harder than I’d expected, a long contraction that made me press my fingers into the mattress and close my eyes even though I would have preferred to keep looking at the sky. I felt my cunt clamping down in spasms around his cock, milking it, and he let out a muffled curse and kept thrusting while I came, taking advantage of every tremor.

“My turn,” he blurted suddenly. “Where?”

“Inside. Come inside.”

“Fuck.”

I heard Darío a few seconds later, pressing my hips against him with both hands, driving in one last time until there was nowhere left to go, utterly still except for that long, low sound that slips out of him when he can’t control it anymore. I felt the thick pulses of his cock inside me, one, two, three, emptying out, and the heat spreading within.

We stayed like that for a moment, locked together, with him still inside me and me with my face on the mattress, breathing hard. When he finally pulled out, I felt the thick stream sliding down the inside of my thigh to my knee. The forest went on with itself.

***

Afterward we lay on the mattress with the hatch still open, watching the sky. The temperature had dropped enough to crawl into the sleeping bags, but neither of us made the move for a while. I wiped the old T-shirt between my legs, not really wanting to clean myself up all the way.

“The van was a good idea,” I said at last.

“I told you.”

“Not that often.”

“Pretty often.”

“Mm.”

I rolled onto my side and rested my head on his shoulder. From that position the sky was completely black except for the dense band of stars crossing from one end to the other. No city light, nothing in the way. The Milky Way visible as rarely as ever in life, a smear of luminous dust that at that hour seemed almost within reach.

“Want something to eat?” he asked after a while.

“Not yet.”

“When?”

“When I move.”

“And when’s that going to be?”

“When I feel like it.”

Darío laughed softly, that sound of his that comes out when he doesn’t want to make noise but can’t quite hold it in. I knew it by heart, just like I knew the way his breathing settled after sex until it became slow and even, as if the body were finally finding the rhythm that belonged to it.

I closed my eyes and listened to the forest. The wind through the pines. Some animal moving through the brush in the dark. Darío’s breathing, already beginning to sound like light sleep.

I should have bought more cheese at that market, I thought suddenly, not really knowing why that was what came into my head at that moment, and I laughed to myself, very softly.

“What?” he murmured, already half asleep.

“Nothing. Go to sleep.”

And that was how we stayed, with the hatch open to the valley, the stars above us and the forest all around, without reservations, without an itinerary, without any concrete plan for the next day. Exactly as we had planned.