The Night Four Counselors Came Into Our Tent

Valentina settled the backpack onto her shoulders and looked toward the entrance of Camp Las Cascadas. The January sun warmed the back of her neck, the air smelled of resin and damp grass, and beside her Sofía was smiling with that mouth of hers that always promised something.

— Two weeks without anyone telling us what to do —said Sofía, brushing her arm with her knuckles—. Seems to me we deserve it.

Valentina felt something move beneath her stomach. It wasn’t exactly nerves.

The bus had dropped them off in front of a carved wooden sign, and a group of counselors welcomed them near a table with lists. Valentina saw them before they saw her: four young men in blue camp T-shirts. The tallest one, Rodrigo, had the shoulders of someone who carried weight by choice. Tomás, the one filling out the form without looking up, had marked forearms and a concentration Valentina found more interesting than the other two. Ezequiel was the youngest, with an easy smile and light eyes. Damián, the fourth, was quiet, with that kind of look that conveys things without words.

— Valentina García —Tomás read, and when he looked up, he paused for a moment before continuing—. Tent twelve, north zone.

— And me? —Sofía asked, resting her elbows on the table brazenly.

— Sofía Beltrán. Same tent.

— How convenient —Sofía said without moving, with a smile that was almost a dare.

Valentina took her by the arm and dragged her away before she could say anything else.

— They’re going to hate you before dinner —she muttered.

— Or the exact opposite —Sofía replied, looking back.

Tent twelve was in a secluded clearing, surrounded by pines, near the edge of the forest. It smelled of old canvas and had just enough room for two sleeping pads and their backpacks. Valentina looked at it and thought it was perfect.

That afternoon they took part in the welcome activities with the same cordial indifference with which they had survived high school: present, but somewhere else. During the communal dinner, Rodrigo and Tomás passed near their table twice more than the route justified. Ezequiel held Sofía’s gaze long enough for both of them to notice. Damián said nothing, but he didn’t look away either.

Sofía ate without hurry and under the table she squeezed Valentina’s knee.

— Tonight —she said in a low voice, as if she were asking whether she wanted more bread.

Valentina nodded without looking at her.

***

Past midnight, the tent smelled of cheap wine and the two of them. Sofía had pulled a bottle out of her backpack with the expression of someone who had been planning something for a while. They drank straight from the bottle, sitting opposite each other on their sleeping bags, with Valentina’s small flashlight between them casting long shadows on the canvas.

— How long have you been wanting to do this? —Sofía asked.

Valentina didn’t pretend not to understand.

— Since the trip to Mendoza. Almost a year.

Sofía set the bottle aside and moved in slowly, giving her time to change her mind. When Valentina didn’t move, she cupped her face with both hands and kissed her. It was a calm kiss at first, almost careful, and then it wasn’t: tongues searching and tangling, teeth biting the other’s lip, hands beginning to slip beneath T-shirts, heat building between them in the cramped space.

They undressed in the order that made sense. The difference between their bodies was as evident as it had always been from the outside: Sofía tall and angular, narrow shoulders, small firm breasts with already hard nipples, long legs that in the tent seemed endless; Valentina shorter, fuller, big breasts spilling when she lay back, wide hips and a round ass that Sofía took in both hands as if it were something she’d been waiting too long to touch.

— God, what an ass you’ve got —Sofía said softly, squeezing and parting her cheeks with her thumbs—. I’ve been thinking about fucking you for months.

— Then keep thinking —Valentina replied, and grabbed one of Sofía’s breasts, pinching her nipple until the other let out a short moan.

Sofía pushed her onto her back on the sleeping bag and climbed on top of her. She licked her neck slowly, then her collarbone, and moved down to her breasts: she took one nipple fully into her mouth and sucked hard, moving her tongue around it while her other hand squeezed the other breast. Valentina arched her back and sank her fingers into Sofía’s dark curls. Sofía dragged her teeth lightly over the nipple, and then moved down her stomach, leaving a trail of warm saliva.

When she reached her mound, Sofía stopped for a second. She spread Valentina’s thighs with both hands, unhurried, and stayed there looking at her wet pussy as if deciding where to start.

— You’re soaked —she said, and ran two fingers through her vulva, from bottom to top, leaving them shining.

— Eat me out already —Valentina asked her, and didn’t care how desperate she sounded.

Sofía lowered her head and pressed her mouth to Valentina’s cunt. The first lick was long, slow, from the entrance to the clit, and Valentina let out a low sound she hadn’t planned. The second was deeper: Sofía drove her tongue inside her, pulled it out, and went back up to the clit to suck it in circles. She didn’t rush anything. She took her time sucking, releasing, licking the lips, returning to the clit with the tip of her tongue, while she slid in one finger, then two, curling them inside with a steady rhythm.

Valentina grabbed the curls and pushed her face against her cunt without realizing it. Sofía let herself be guided, moaning against her flesh, and that vibration was what finished breaking her. Valentina came with her thighs squeezing her friend’s head, her back lifting off the sleeping bag, Sofía’s fingers inside her dripping, and a long cry she had to smother by biting her forearm.

— Your turn —Valentina said when she could speak, pushing Sofía onto her back and climbing over her.

She sucked her breasts one after the other, nibbled the nipples until Sofía squirmed underneath her, and moved down that long, lean body licking every inch. When she spread her legs, Sofía’s cunt was already shining. Valentina buried her tongue in her without preamble, fucked her with a stiff tongue and then moved up to suck her clit with her whole mouth, sucking hard. Sofía stopped trying to keep her composure: she writhed, grabbed her hair, moaned without restraint.

They didn’t hear the canvas open.

***

The first thing was the cool rush of air. Then, when they looked up, the four of them were at the entrance.

Rodrigo. Tomás. Ezequiel. Damián.

Standing in silence, with that expression that wasn’t surprise but confirmation. Nobody shouted. Nobody covered up too fast. Wine and heat had burned away that kind of reflex. Valentina stayed on her knees between Sofía’s legs, her mouth still shining, and looked at each of them one by one.

— There was a light on —said Rodrigo.

— And you came in anyway —Valentina said, with a calm she hadn’t planned on having.

It was Sofía who broke the silence. She propped herself up slightly on her elbows, without covering her breasts or closing her legs, swept her curls back behind her ear, and looked at all four of them with the easy calm Valentina had always envied.

— Close the entrance —she said—. And stay or leave. Whatever you want. But if you stay, get it out and whoever wants to fuck, fuck.

None of them left. Rodrigo closed the flap.

***

The space inside the tent was small for six people. What followed was messy in a way that felt real: bodies orienting themselves in the dark, belts falling to the floor, T-shirts yanked over heads, hands finding what they were looking for, the sound of canvas brushing the ground when someone changed position.

Rodrigo settled in behind Valentina with that kind of certainty that doesn’t ask permission but does expect a signal. She was already on all fours, still wet from what Sofía had done to her. Rodrigo’s big hands ran over her hips, her back, her ass with a firm, unhesitating pressure. He spread her cheeks with his thumbs and Valentina felt his hard cock rest right at the entrance to her cunt.

— Tell me if you want me to stop.

— Don’t stop. Put it in me.

Rodrigo fucked her slowly, pushing in little by little, with that deliberately calm manner that is worse than urgency because it gives you nothing to anticipate. Valentina felt him opening her centimeter by centimeter until he was fully inside, his balls resting against her. She pressed her forehead into the sleeping bag and concentrated on every movement: his weight against her ass, the way he gripped her hips, how he jolted her forward every time he thrust. The sound coming out of her mouth wasn’t something she chose: it was just what the body produced when there was no room left for anything else.

— What a cunt you’ve got, you fucking bitch —Rodrigo murmured behind her, fucking her harder—. You’re dripping wet.

— Harder —Valentina asked him—. Fuck me harder.

Tomás went to Sofía. He studied her for a moment before touching her, as if memorizing something, and then leaned in and kissed her neck with a slowness that made her close her eyes. He took her breasts in both hands, playing with her nipples between his fingers, and lowered one hand to her cunt to slide two fingers inside her. Sofía was the kind of person who rarely lost control, and watching her give way little by little was for Valentina almost as intense as what Rodrigo was doing to her. Tomás turned her carefully, put her on her knees in front of the sleeping bag and tipped her forward with one hand on the small of her back. He took out his cock, ran it over the crack of her ass a couple of times to grease it, and when he entered her, Sofía made a low, continuous sound that had nothing to do with her usual composure.

— Holy shit —Tomás said—. You’re so tight.

Ezequiel came up to Valentina from the front, already holding his cock. He pressed it to her lips and she took it into her mouth without thinking too much. She sucked him fully, swallowing him to the hilt, letting him push her head to the rhythm he needed. Valentina found the beat between what Rodrigo was doing to her from behind, fucking her without pause, and Ezequiel’s cock filling her mouth from the front, going in and out until saliva ran from the corners of her lips. It was too much to process as separate parts, and that was exactly the point. She let herself be used from both sides and felt the orgasm begin to build again in her belly.

Damián knelt beside Sofía and ran a hand through her hair calmly. He took out his cock and brought it close to her face. She took it without hesitation, opening her mouth, and started sucking him with a surrender Valentina had never seen from her: her tongue running the full length of it, cheeks hollowed by suction, her throat opening so he could go all the way in. Damián took her nape with both hands and started using her mouth at his own pace, while Tomás kept thrusting into her from behind. The tableau of the six of them —the two friends, the four men, the warm dark disorder of the tent— took on for a moment the strange quality of something that doesn’t entirely belong to waking life.

The night broke into sequences. Valentina would remember certain moments more clearly than others: the texture of the sleeping bag against her cheek while Rodrigo fucked her with a deep, steady rhythm, the wet sound of bodies colliding, Sofía’s hand finding hers at some point and squeezing hard when they were both about to come. The two of them moaning into the cramped space, the “yes, like that” and the “more” and the “don’t stop” until it was impossible to know whose voice was whose.

She would also remember the instant when Rodrigo paused for a moment, pulled his dripping cock out of her cunt, and asked in a low voice if he could put it in her ass. Valentina said yes before she had finished processing what he was asking.

It was different from the rest. Rodrigo spat into his hand, greased his cock, and also smeared a stream of saliva over her asshole. With his thumb he opened her slowly, one finger first, then two, until Valentina relaxed enough. When he pressed the tip of his shaft against her ass and started to push, Valentina bit the sleeping bag. It was that kind of intense discomfort that turns into something else before you can classify it: the burning at first, the feeling of being opened to the limit, and then the dull, deep pleasure rising from inside. Sofía, watching, squeezed her hand harder.

— Good? —she asked.

— Yes —Valentina replied—. He’s putting it in my ass.

— Hang on, love —Sofía said, and kissed her knuckles.

Rodrigo was careful at first and then didn’t need to be because Valentina asked him for more, and that was what he did: pushed until he was all the way in, his balls again pressed against her, and started fucking her ass with a rhythm that jerked her body forward with every thrust. Ezequiel took advantage and pushed his cock back into her mouth; Valentina sucked him while Rodrigo split her from behind, the double sensation tearing out muffled moans with each shove. At some point Ezequiel slipped a hand underneath and started rubbing her clit with two fingers, in quick circles.

Valentina came in a way she hadn’t expected, without warning, her thighs trembling, her ass clenching around Rodrigo’s cock, and a cry escaping her louder than she would have wanted in a tent with canvas walls. Rodrigo kept fucking her while she came, stretching out her orgasm until Valentina couldn’t tell whether she was still coming or starting another one.

On the other side of the tent, Sofía was on all fours with Tomás behind her fucking her without pause and Damián on his knees in front of her taking her mouth. Her long, thin body jolted forward with every thrust and she received Damián with the same concentration she brought to everything: completely, holding nothing back, swallowing his cock to the base and letting him push her head. Valentina watched her for a moment with something between admiration and desire. Sofía’s small breasts bounced with each thrust from Tomás and her skin was shining with sweat.

— Look at you —Valentina told her softly—. Look at how they’re fucking you, you slut.

Sofía lifted her eyes to her and smiled around the cock in her mouth, and that gesture was worth more than anything she could have said.

The position changes that followed were less frantic and more deliberate, as if everyone knew there was time. Valentina ended up astride Ezequiel, his cock buried in her cunt, and Rodrigo settled behind her and put his shaft back in her ass. The sensation of both of them inside her at once, the thin wall of flesh separating them, was so intense that she had to dig her hands into Ezequiel’s shoulders not to lose her balance. Her hips moved on their own, finding a rhythm she hadn’t planned but her body understood at once: up and down, feeling both of them pushing from opposite sides, hearing the three of them moan together. Ezequiel bit one of her breasts, Rodrigo squeezed her waist, and Valentina came again, this time slowly and long, with her cunt and ass clenching at the same time around both cocks.

— I’m coming —Ezequiel murmured under her.

— Not inside —Valentina told him—. On my tits.

Ezequiel pulled out, pushed her onto her back, and climbed up over her chest. He jerked himself off twice and came over her, hot streams falling between her breasts and up to her neck. Rodrigo, still behind her, grabbed her hips and kept fucking her ass until he came too, growling, and finished inside her with the last, deeper thrusts.

Sofía came shortly after, with Tomás and Damián, in a way that made the two friends look at each other at the exact instant it happened. Tomás came on her lower back, a warm puddle that ran down her side, and Damián emptied into her mouth: Sofía swallowed what she could and let the rest run down her chin, never taking her eyes off Valentina. That moment —the crossed looks, the bodies at the limit, the tent full of breathing, semen, and heat— was what Valentina would keep most precisely from the whole night.

At some point their shoulders brushed and they both laughed, a brief, incongruous second that ruined nothing but rather the opposite. Valentina ran two fingers across her chest, collected a drop of Ezequiel’s semen, and brought them to her mouth without taking her eyes off Sofía.

Close to three in the morning, the six of them stopped. The flashlight had gone out somewhere along the way and the only light was the dim glow filtering through the canvas. Their breathing gradually fell into rhythm in the silence. Valentina felt Rodrigo’s semen dripping from her ass down to her thigh and did nothing to clean it off.

— Kayak tomorrow? —Ezequiel said finally, with the voice of someone who has just remembered there’s a world outside.

Sofía let out a laugh Valentina hadn’t heard from her in years, clean and completely out of control, and that made everyone else laugh too. That moment was the kind that can’t be planned and can’t be forced.

The four of them left when the sky was starting to lighten, pulling on their pants and going out one by one. Their steps crunched on the wet grass and the tent fell silent.

***

Sofía curled up against Valentina, back to chest, their legs tangled, both of them still sticky and unwilling to move. Outside, the first birds were beginning to sing.

— You know what’s weird? —Sofía said after a while.

— What?

— That I don’t regret anything. Not even leaving the flashlight on so they’d find us.

Valentina looked at the canvas ceiling. The dawn light came in orange and slow.

— We’ve got thirteen nights left —she said.

Sofía didn’t answer, but she shifted closer and ran a hand over her still-wet cunt, just barely, like a promise. The camp outside was still asleep, and Valentina thought, with a calm she hadn’t felt in a long time, that the two weeks were only just beginning.