Chapter Text
Final weeks of the program: no one ever formally divided the group. It just… happened.
They arrived in Norway at the beginning of the summer, a scattered collection of university students thrown together under the loose promise of “cultural exchange” and “experiential learning.” Erasmus, technically. Credits to earn and reports to submit at the end. But the reality had very little to do with classrooms. It was movement, endurance, shared space, long hikes through uneven terrain, days spent learning practical skills they weren’t used to needing like navigation, orientation and basic survival - nights in cabins or tents where privacy became a negotiation rather than a given.
It was an environment that stripped things down quickly, where personalities surfaced fast. Tawan's did first with an authority that people responded to without questioning. She organized, gave instructions like they were natural extensions of the situation, and more often than not, she was right. She made it easy for others to follow her lead, especially when things got difficult. People trusted her, even when they didn’t fully realize they were doing it.
Ayla was different; she didn’t step forward so much as she was pulled into the center of things. Where Tawan structured, Ayla adapted. Where Tawan planned, Ayla reacted quickly, instinctively, often with just enough irreverence to cut through tension before it built too far. She didn’t give orders, but people listened anyway. She made decisions mid-motion, turned mistakes into momentum and laughed at things that might have stalled someone else. And people followed her too.
It didn’t take long for the imbalance to become obvious.
The first time Ayla approached Tawan, it had been simple enough. Early days before the rhythm of the group had settled, before the lines had drawn themselves in persistent ways.
They’d been assigned to the same smaller team for a navigation exercise: map, compass and a stretch of forest that looked identical in every direction. Tawan had already started outlining a route, marking points with careful attention, when Ayla leaned in close enough to share the map.
“You always go this exact with it?” she asked curious rather than challenging.
Tawan didn’t look up immediately. “It’s more efficient.”
“Maybe,” Ayla said, tracing a different path with her finger, less direct but faster in its own way. “But if the terrain shifts, you’re stuck adjusting everything.”
“I account for that.”
Ayla smiled slightly. “Yeah. I figured.” She looks at the black haired girl, “I’m Ayla,” she adds after a second, like the conversation might naturally turn into something else.
Tawan glanced up then. “I know.” And that was it. Not exactly rude, but closed. A door that never opened in the first place.
Ayla hadn’t pushed it then, but she’d noticed, and after that, things shifted.
Not all at once, but there came a point where the pattern became unavoidable. Every shared task turned into a contest of approach, every decision became a point of divergence. They didn’t argue openly, but they contradicted each other in smaller ways, subtle corrections, different choices made at the same moment.
Their companions started choosing sides without meaning to. Tawan with Prim, Wan, Shasha (those who preferred structure and direction), and some of the guys that didn’t have initiative at all but wanted to be close to hot older girls.
Ayla with May, Sonya, Gorya (those who leaned into flexibility and had the ability to pivot when things didn’t go as planned) and the rest of the guys that were more childish, friendly.
They all still got along, that was the strange part.
They shared meals and jokes carried across both groups, their nights ended in the same spaces, their voices overlapping and the laughter blending until everyone had to go back to their respective room or tent. But the split remained, and at the center of it, Tawan and Ayla, always aware of each other.
Ayla told herself, at first, that Tawan just didn’t like her. It was the easiest explanation. The most straightforward. Tawan was controlled, precise, maybe a little rigid. Ayla was… not. It made sense that it wouldn’t click.
But that explanation didn’t hold up completely because Tawan paid too much attention. She noticed everything: when Ayla stepped in, when she didn’t, when she made a call, when she held back. Her reactions were too immediate, too consistent to come from indifference.
It wasn’t dislike, not entirely, and that made it harder to place.
Ayla had a boyfriend back home, technically. He called most nights, asked about her day, told her about his, filled the space with a familiarity that should have meant more than it did. She answered, she listened, she said the right things when needed. But there was a distance there. Though physical too, also a lack of weight.
She didn’t think about him much when she wasn’t on the phone, didn’t measure her days against him, didn’t compare. Except, sometimes, without meaning to, she did.
In moments that had nothing to do with him, like during the more physical activities, when effort stripped away pretense and left only movement and form. Tawan was different there, less contained. Strong, strength built through discipline, repeated effort and precision.
Ayla noticed more than she meant to, the way Tawan moved, the way she held herself, the tension in her arms when she braced against something, the focus that sharpened her expression when she was fully engaged in a task.
It wasn’t something Ayla talked about, not even with her friends, but it stayed.
Tawan, for her part, didn’t allow herself that same distance. What she felt, whatever it was, never settled into something easy or ignorable. It sat too close to the surface, tangled up with everything else: control, expectation, the need to maintain structure not just in the group, but in herself.
Ayla disrupted that constantly, persistently in ways that made Tawan aware of her own reactions more than she wanted to be. The way her attention shifted without permission, irritation came faster when it was about her, and control felt harder to hold.
So she did the only thing that made sense: she reinforced the distance and gave it a shape by turning it into something easier to manage. Rivalry.
By the time the program reached its final stretch, these last weeks, where exhaustion mixed with the awareness that it would all end soon, that shape had solidified into something everyone else could see.
Even if they didn’t fully understand it, even if neither Tawan nor Ayla would admit what sat underneath it.
***
The last activity of the day carries a different weight before it even begins, as if the air itself has thickened with everything that hasn’t been said between them.
The clearing, worn down by hours of movement and noise, feels tighter now, the light is dimmer as evening settles in.
No one is as fresh as they were in the morning. There’s dirt on their clothes, fatigue in their limbs.
The coordinators don’t soften this one. “Final game,” the male coordinator announces, his voice cutting cleanly through the low murmur of the group. “Attack and defense. We call it Attack the Fortress.” He gestures toward a section of the clearing where ropes form a rough square, a flag planted firmly at its center. The space looks deceptively simple, but the ground is uneven, a terrain that favors instinct as much as planning. “One team defends the flag. The other attacks. If the attackers grab it and get out, they win. If defenders hold them off, they win.”
“And no,” the female coordinator adds, her tone already edged with warning, “this is not gentle. But you will not hurt each other. You push, you block, you hold, and that’s it.” Her gaze sweeps across them all, lingering just a fraction longer where it needs to. “Understood?”
A scattered chorus of agreement follows.
Tawan doesn’t join it. She’s already somewhere else entirely with her eyes fixed on the field, calculating distances, angles, movement patterns, the way the perimeter might hold or fail depending on how it’s pressured.
Across from her, Ayla rolls her shoulders slowly, stretching her arms above her head with an ease that feels almost careless, as though this is exactly the kind of thing she’s been waiting for. She stretches her legs and then bends forward, making it impossible for Tawan to not notice, for the thousandth time, how sexy the petite girl is.
“Same teams,” the man continues. “Switch roles after the first round.”
They move into position. Tawan's team takes defense first. She places herself near the center close enough to the blue flag to intercept anything that comes too near. The others spread outward, forming a loose perimeter that tightens under her direction.
“Don’t chase,” she says quickly, firmly, pulling their attention without effort. “Hold your ground. Make them go wide.”
“What if they break through?” Prim asks, already glancing nervously toward the opposing side.
“They won’t, we have to make sure,” Tawan replies certainly.
On the other side, Ayla glances over her team with a loose posture.
“No plan?” May asks, half-teasing.
Ayla's mouth curves slightly. “There’s always a plan.”
“And?”
Her eyes flick briefly, inevitably, toward Tawan. “Adapt.” She must admit that for a microsecond, she gets distracted by observing the older's tense jaw, her jet black eyes, furrowed thick brows and the way she shakes her wrists, also a thin layer of sweat already illuminating the skin of her neck and forehead.
The whistle slices through the air, and Ayla is back on her feet.
At first, it’s scattered with bodies colliding, laughter breaking out in bursts that feel thinner than before, hands reaching, pulling, blocking. The ground shifts underfoot forcing quick adjustments. Tawan holds her position with precision, stepping in where needed, redirecting momentum before it becomes a problem.
“Left!” she calls, already moving to intercept.
Ayla goes straight. Fast, cutting through a gap that barely exists, slipping past a half-formed block with an instinct that doesn’t hesitate. Tawan sees it immediately, of course she does. She moves to meet her.
The collision is solid, shoulder to shoulder, force meeting force. It doesn’t knock either of them down, but it sends a jolt through both, grounding them in the same point of resistance.
“Seriously?” Tawan breathes, bracing, her hands already finding Ayla's arms to hold her back.
“You’re in the way,” Ayla shoots back, pushing forward again.
“Good.”
They don’t separate fully. What begins as a block turns into something more sustained, their bodies adjusting against each other in constant shifts for leverage. Ayla's hands press at Tawan's shoulders, weight redistributes again and again, neither of them giving an inch. Around them, the game continues, but it blurs. They are focused only on each other.
“Go around!” Gorya shouts, and Ayla doesn’t even acknowledge it. Instead, she steps closer, closing what little space remains, and when Tawan adjusts to counter, Ayla shifts her weight in a sharper motion cutting across her balance.
Tawan stumbles. It’s small, but Ayla doesn’t waste it and they go down together. The ground comes up fast, the impact knocks the air from their lungs as they land tangled, their limbs caught and their bodies too close to separate cleanly. Grass crushes beneath them. For a fraction of a second, everything stills, and then Ayla laughs. It slips out of her almost startled by the fall itself. “Oh- wow, okay-”
Tawan reacts immediately, pushing up, trying to untangle herself, to regain control of the position… but Ayla doesn’t let her.
Her legs shift instinctively, bracketing Tawan's hips with enough pressure to hold her in place for just a second longer than necessary. Her hand catches Tawan's wrist, stopping the movement before it can fully free her.
“Wait-” Tawan snaps, her breath sharper now, frustration flaring quickly. “Get off.”
“Not yet,” Ayla replies, still half-laughing, but her voice has changed into a lower, steadier tone. It’s messy, close, even intimate, and has nothing to do with intention and everything to do with proximity.
Tawan tries again to push free, but the position is awkward, their bodies too entangled, Ayla's hold just controlled enough to make it difficult without crossing the line into force. “This isn’t-” Tawan starts, her breath is uneven, her hands shifting for better leverage.
Ayla tightens her hold slightly just enough to keep her there. “Relax,” she says, though the word doesn’t quite match the tension in her body. Her barely covered thighs become stiff, her muscles tense pinning the older against the floor. "You can't always manage everything."
Tawan stills for a fraction of a second just long enough for something to shift, then she pushes back harder. “Let go.”
“No.” The laughter fades completely, and what replaces it is more reactive. Their movements lose the last trace of playfulness, becoming rougher, more insistent. Their hands grip, push, trying to break or hold the position.
“Are you serious right now?” Tawan snaps, her breath coming faster now, brushing too close against Ayla face.
“You started it,” Ayla shoots back, though she’s the one still holding her there.
“I did not-”
“Then stop fighting.”
“I would if you’d move.”
“Make me.”
That does it; Ayla gets distracted by her own bold tone, so Tawan shifts her weight suddenly, using the slight imbalance in Ayla's hold to turn the position in one controlled motion. Now she’s above.
Ayla's back meets the ground, the impact softer this time, her breath catching as Tawan's weight settles over her, anchoring her in place. Their bodies align too closely, the space between them reduced to almost nothing, every point of contact impossible to ignore. Tawan is between her legs and their stomachs are glued as she holds Ayla still.
For a moment they stop. Their faces are close enough that their breathing overlaps, uneven and too loud in the sudden stillness. Tawan's grip tightens slightly at Ayla's wrists, not finishing the motion that would end it. The younger looks up at her, and the expression there is no longer just amusement; it’s focused and aware. Tawan feels the way the moment has tipped into something unfamiliar and dangerously still.
And then… something else. A physical awareness that doesn’t belong to the game. It’s subtle at first, just pressure. A point of contact that doesn’t quite make sense in the chaos of limbs and positioning. But Ayla feels it against the inside of her thigh, where their bodies press too closely together for anything to be accidental in the usual way. She stills. Her wide eyes flicker searching Tawan's face.
Tawan doesn’t move, she tries too hard not to as to not betray herself, and that’s what confirms it. The tension spikes, disorienting, no longer just competitive and no longer contained within the rules of the game. The older’s jaw tightens, her focus breaks just enough for uncertainty to slip in.
Ayla's breath comes a little slower now, but deeper.
Neither of them moves to fix it, neither of them acknowledges it, but it’s there between them in the way their bodies remain too close for too long, and neither of them looks away.
Tawan exhales sharply, like she’s about to say something, anything to break the moment- and then Ayla bites her lower lip while still looking straight into her eyes. The younger lifts her hips almost imperceptibly, just enough to tease what’s going on between Tawan's legs. And unexpectedly, maybe having lifted more than she should or having underestimated Tawan's length, she got a much more direct contact in her crotch. It’s hard hard, stiff, almost stinging. Almost makes her let out an obscene moan.
"What-" the older begins.
“Enough!” The shout cuts through everything, the world rushes back in all at once. Tawan looks displaced.
Hands are on them almost immediately, pulling them apart, forcing space between their bodies whether they want it or not.
“That’s not what this is,” the coordinator says firmly with his grip steady as he separates them. “You were told, no escalation.”
“We said physical, not a fight,” the woman adds, her gaze cutting between them.
Around them, the group has gone quiet. The game seems to be over and neither of them knows what is the winning team.
Ayla pushes herself up slowly, brushing grass from her arms, her breathing still uneven from the fight and the embarrassing state of her underwear.
Tawan stands a moment later. She doesn’t immediately look at Ayla, but the tension hasn’t dissipated. If anything, it has deepened into something far more difficult to ignore.
No one quite knows where to stand, what to do with their hands, whether to look at them or not. Both of them are pulled apart and kept that way. “Everyone else, back,” the coordinator says, not raising his voice but making it impossible to ignore. “Now.”
A loose semicircle forms reluctantly again, but this time it’s quieter and there’s eyes flicking between the two of them and the coordinators.
Ayla stands with her hands loose at her sides, her chest still rising a little faster than normal, a faint smear of dirt along her arm. She doesn’t look particularly concerned.
Tawan stands straighter. Jaw set, shoulders squared like she’s holding something in place by force, but her hands are joined on her pelvis awkwardly gripping the hem of her shirt.
The female coordinator steps forward first. “What was that?” No one answers. Her gaze shifts between them. “We were clear about the rules.”
“It didn’t-” Ayla starts, then stops, like she decides halfway through that it’s not worth finishing. Tawan says nothing.
“That,” the male coordinator cuts in, “was not part of the game. You don’t pin someone to the ground and keep going.” A few people shift uncomfortably. “You push, you block, you disengage,” he continues. “You do not escalate. Do you understand? Behave like the adults you are.”
“Yes,” Tawan says, immediate.
Ayla nods once. “Yeah.”
“Good,” the woman replies. “Then we’ll keep this simple.” She lets the pause stretch just long enough. “You’re both going to apologize.”
The order lands heavier than expected, not because it’s unreasonable, but because of who it’s directed at.
Ayla glances sideways, just briefly, toward Tawan who doesn’t look back.
“Now,” the man adds.
Ayla shifts her weight slightly, rolling one shoulder like she’s considering it. Like she could say something, easily, casually, make it disappear, but she doesn’t.
Tawan inhales slowly, measured. Still nothing.
Prim frowns faintly, glancing between them. May looks down, then back up again, like she’s watching something she doesn’t fully understand but knows isn’t going to end well.
“Alright,” the female coordinator says finally, the patience thinning just enough to show. “If you won’t do it voluntarily, we’ll find another way.”
She exchanges a quick look with her colleague. Decision made.
“You’ll be separated from your teams tonight,” the man says.
“What?” Shasha asks.
“You’ll set up a separate tent,” the woman clarifies.
She points to a stretch of ground between the last row of tents and the beginning of the forest, close enough to remain visible, far enough to feel set apart.
“There,” she says. “Together.” Silence hits harder this time.
“Wait, both of them?” Gorya blurts out before she can stop herself.
“Yes,” the man replies.
“That’s-” May cuts herself off, exchanging a look with Sonya.
“Intentional,” the woman finishes calmly. “You couldn’t work together out here, so you’ll try it there.”
A few people glance back at Ayla and Tawan, quick, curious, and something else mixed in. Prim exhales through her nose, half-amused, half-concerned. “That’s one way to do it.”
Shasha leans closer to her. “They’re going to kill each other.”
“Or not,” Prim murmurs.
Across from them, Sonya crosses her arms. “This is a terrible idea.”
May tilts her head. “It’s a great idea.”
“For who?”
May doesn’t answer.
Ayla lets out a quiet breath that almost turns into a laugh, just enough to acknowledge the situation. “Seriously?” she says, glancing toward the coordinators.
“Seriously,” the man confirms.
Tawan doesn’t react outwardly, but something in the way her shoulders tighten gives her away.
“You’ll set it up yourselves,” the woman continues. “No assistance. Consider it part of the lesson.”
“What lesson?” Ayla asks, frowning in disbelief.
“Control,” the woman replies without missing a beat. “Among other things.”
Both girls receive a few more glances, less subtle now. The line between curiosity and discomfort is thin and everyone is walking it.
“Get started,” the man says. "We will meet around the stove in an hour, so be quick.
The group starts to scatter walking towards the tents to get their bags with the shower stuff, and get in the house one by one.
In the deposit, Ayla bends to grab one of the tent bags, lifting it with an ease.
“Come on,” she says, not looking directly at Tawan. “Wouldn’t want to fall behind.”
Then she steps forward, takes the other end without a word and they carry it together.
As they move toward the edge of the clearing, the space between the tents and the forest swallowing them just slightly, some of their companions watch through the window as they wait for their turn to shower.
“Place your bets,” Gorya whispers under her breath.
May doesn’t look away. “They’re not coming out of that tent the same.”
Prim hums. “No,” she agrees. “They’re not.”
***
Once the tent is pitched and their belongings are inside, they both head for the showers without a word. They've never been alone together there before, and considering what happened earlier, they both prefer it stays that way.
But they don't have much time, so it's not the time for tantrums. They both hear the sound of clothes falling to the ground and become aware that they are alone and naked just a few feet away. Tawan hurries to turn on the shower to break the awkward silence, and without a friend to chat with as usual, her thoughts inevitably drift to the feel of the game as she automatically washes the sweat from her body and scalp.
Ayla's breath on her face, her body scent, her eyes directly on hers, her hands holding her still beneath her, her legs spread wide enough for their bodies to fit together completely, her thighs trapping her between them, and, of course, the erection caused by the friction of Ayla's thighs. The contact was clumsy, rough, accidental and intermittent, and yet her dick became as hard as a brick so that it almost hurt.
The worst part was Ayla's touch, the way she bit her lip with that frivolous, murderous look as she thrust her hips upward.
The way Tawan's throbbing tip almost pressed against her cunt. Was it intentional? No, she has a boyfriend.
But then, why that look? Tawan is sure (and embarrassed) that Ayla felt the erection.
The memory of Ayla's imperceptible panting pulls her from her thoughts. The memory of Ayla's reaction to feeling her dick between her thighs makes her aware that she's hard again and she needs to do something to quell the heat now that this is the only "alone" moment she has. Otherwise, the night will be rough with Ayla so close.
After washing her torso, soaping her upper body, and washing her hair, her right hand goes straight to her shaft. First, she strokes its entire length, then her thumb massages the hard, throbbing tip. It is pale, its veins prominent outside the circumference, and its head is a dark pink. Its entire length has the same circumference, except for the tip, which is slightly smaller.
Her palm and fingers encircle her dick and begin a slow, steady, up-and-down massage, while her mind travels back to Ayla beneath her, lifting her hips. Tawan bites her lip to stifle any sounds and suffers in the process.
She thinks about Ayla, about the way her thighs had supported her, how their chests had moved in sync. She'd finally been able to feel those small tits against her, even through the fabric. Over these almost three months, she'd often been unable to stop herself from glancing when they went to a lake and Ayla wore that red bikini that stood out against her pale skin, which gradually became darker from the sun. Even from a distance, Tawan could see her nipples piercing the thin fabric.
She had mastered the skill of holding back her arousal until she had a moment alone to masturbate, but today it was impossible to hide. As the rhythm of her hand quickens, she thinks about what it would be like to have Ayla beneath her just like earlier, slowly rubbing her erection against her cunt, making her moan, roll her eyes, and bite her lip. She would squeeze her breasts and then suck on them, and Ayla would surely try to increase the contact to cool the heat between her thighs.
Tawan thinks about Ayla's firm ass and how the tiny, tight shorts she usually wears leave nothing to the imagination.
Her left hand slides down to her balls and she starts massaging them too, imagining Ayla on all fours with her back to her, her pussy wet and dripping, ready to receive her.
The climax is near, the rhythm of her masturbation becomes frantic, she just needs one last-
"Everyone to the stove in five minutes!" The camp's loudspeaker interrupts the moment. And it's like a bucket of cold water for Tawan.
She quickly becomes aware of what she was doing, who she was doing it near, and how dangerous it was. How easily she would have given herself away if she'd managed to ejaculate.
Her erection doesn't subside quickly, but she doesn't work to relieve it either. Not near Ayla, and not under pressure. It will eventually die, and in any case, maybe tonight she could sneak off to the bathroom and finish the job.
Tawan finishes washing the remaining parts of her body, turns off the shower, and steps out. She dries quickly, gets dressed, and combs her hair. She puts her dirty clothes in a bag and opens the door, but not before dispelling her doubts about Ayla's delay. "I'm going out,"
No, asking "are you okay?" would have been showing too much concern.
"I- uh, okay," the tone catches Tawan off guard. A little rushed, breathless. Is she...? No.
Her breath catches in her throat, and before she can overthink it, she leaves the bathroom and closes the door.
But she keeps her ear pressed against it. Ayla's shower is the closest to the entrance. For a few seconds, she thinks this is wrong, that someone could see her, but curiosity gets the better of her. Could Ayla have been masturbating?
"Oh, fuck," there it is. A ragged gasp, almost deprived of her freedom, followed by heavy sighs and an attempt to catch her breath almost imperceptible because of the ongoing fall of water.
That's the confirmation Tawan needed, and now everything is worse.
***
The tent feels even smaller once they’re both inside it for real.
Not just physically, though that’s part of it. The way the walls curve inward, the narrow strip of space they’re forced to share, it all presses in, makes every movement feel observed. But it’s something else too, something denser. A closeness that doesn’t let either of them forget the other is there for even a second.
They move around each other in silence at first, unpacking just enough to get through the night.
As Tawan reads, or tries to, Ayla changes without ceremony.
She turns her back halfway, not fully hiding it, not fully exposing it either, like she doesn’t consider it something that needs to be managed. She pulls her shirt over her head, tosses it aside, and replaces it with something softer.
Her sleeping clothes are… minimal.
A thin, fitted top that clings more than it covers, the fabric soft and pale, stretching easily over her body like it was made to follow every line instead of conceal it. The straps sit loosely on her shoulders, leaving most of her skin bare. The shorts are worse. Tiny, barely there, riding high on her hips, snug and too comfortable.
Tawan notices before she can stop herself. And once she does, she can’t not.
She looks away quickly, her jaw tightens, focusing instead on her own bag, on saving her book with precise movements.
But the awareness is already there, and it doesn’t leave.
Ayla settles down beside her, shifting until she finds a position that works in the cramped space. Their legs brush once briefly and accidental.
It’s enough for Tawan to still just for a fraction of a second.
Ayla doesn’t comment. She just adjusts slightly, like it didn’t matter, like it didn’t do anything.
Outside, the last of the noise fades. A distant laugh, then quiet. That makes everything inside the tent feel louder: the breathing, the fabric shifting, the faint rustle of movement.
Tawan exhales slowly, steadying herself. “Lights out means quiet,” she says after a moment, her tone even again.
Ayla glances at her, one brow lifting. “You always this strict?”
“Yes.”
Ayla hums, like she expected that answer. Silence settles again.
Then, unexpectedly, her phone vibrates.
Ayla reaches for it immediately, her posture relaxing as she answers.
“Hey,” she murmurs, her voice changes.
It softens in a way Tawan hasn’t heard before. She stares straight ahead, but listens anyway.
“I’m fine,” Ayla says quietly. “Just tired.” A faint smile tugs at her mouth, barely visible in the dim light. “No, it’s good,” she adds. “I like it here.” And after a pause, “I miss you too.”
Something twists immediately in Tawan's chest. She shifts, the movement small but tense, her arm brushing lightly against Ayla's this time. Skin against skin, barely anything... too much.
Ayla doesn’t move away right away, and that makes it worse.
Tawan pulls back first, more abruptly than necessary, but Ayla keeps talking like the space between them isn’t suddenly even more charged.
Tawan exhales through her nose once, twice... “Can you not?” she says finally, her voice lower than before.
Ayla turns her head slightly. “What?”
“Talk quieter,” Tawan says. “Or don’t.”
Ayla studies her, really studies her this time. Then she turns back to her phone.
“Hey,” she says softly. “Call me tomorrow morning. The girls want to sleep.” At last, “Yeah. Goodnight." She hangs up.
The silence that follows isn’t empty but thick, pressed between them.
Ayla sets the phone aside slowly, then shifts just enough that their arms brush again, this time not entirely by accident.
“That necessary?” Ayla asks.
“You were loud.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
Ayla lets out a quiet breath, leaning back slightly, her shoulder still almost touching Tawan's. “You could’ve ignored it.”
“I tried.”
“No, you didn’t.”
Tawan turns her head, her eyes narrowing. “You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“Because?”
“Because you don’t ignore me,” Ayla says. “You react to me and everything I do.”
“That’s not the same.”
“It kind of is.”
Tawan exhales, sharper now. “Not everything is about you.”
Ayla tilts her head, watching her in the dim moonlight that comes through the mosquito net. “Didn’t say it was.”
“You implied it.”
“No,” Ayla replies, softer. “I noticed it.” Tawan's posture stiffens, just slightly when that lands. “And you notice me a lot,” Ayla adds, almost absentmindedly, but her eyes stay on her.
Tawan looks away.
“That’s because you’re hard not to notice,” she says too quickly.
Ayla's lips curve. “Yeah?”
Tawan immediately regrets that. “You’re loud,” she corrects.
“Mm,” Ayla hums. “Sure.” Then, quieter, “Is this all maybe because you like me?”
Tawan turns to her sharply. “What?”
Ayla doesn’t look away. “You heard me.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
Ayla shifts, her leg brushing Tawan's again under the excuse of adjusting her position. This time, she doesn’t pull away immediately. Tawan feels it, every inch of it.
“That would explain a lot,” Ayla continues, her voice lower and provoking now.
“It wouldn’t explain anything.”
“No?” Ayla leans in just a fraction, not enough to close the space, just enough to make it smaller. “The way you watch me? The way you react to everything I do?”
“I don’t-”
“You do,” Ayla cuts in gently. “You just don’t like it.”
“You’re making things up,” she says, but it comes out tighter than she wants. She hates that she can hear her own breath.
Ayla smiles, knowing.
“Oh,” she murmurs. “You’re down bad.”
Tawan's jaw tightens immediately. “Don’t.”
“That’s what this is,” Ayla continues, more certain now, like she’s piecing it together as she speaks. “You don’t hate me. You just don’t know what to do with it.”
“With what?” Tawan snaps.
“With liking me.”
Tawan turns away abruptly, putting space where there isn’t any. “You’re a cocky brat.”
“I’m right.”
“You’re not.”
“Then why are you like this?”
“I’m not like anything.”
“You are,” Ayla insists. “And it’s kind of obvious.”
Tawan shakes her head, tension coiling tighter in her chest. “You think everything revolves around you.”
“No,” Ayla says quietly. “Just this.”
“This isn’t a thing.”
“It is for you.”
“It’s not.”
Ayla watches her for a long second. Then leans back again.
“I felt it,” she murmurs. “You don’t need to pretend."
Tawan turns back, her irritation sharp, but she can't help but answer to all of Ayla's provocations. “What?”
“You don’t even want to admit it.”
“There’s nothing to admit.”
Ayla just looks at her, then smiles again confidently. “You being hard because of me.”
Before her world stops, Tawan turns onto her side with her back to Ayla. “You're hallucinating.” She’s really not, but Tawan can't afford to admit that. It would be disastrous and humilliating.
The younger watches her for a moment longer. Then turns the opposite way. Maybe talking without looking at each other makes things easier.
“Sure,” she says provocatively with disdain.
Tawan exhales hard. "Why do you want me to admit it so bad? Would it make you feel better about yourself?"
Ayla gasps, "It certainly would boost my confidence, yes," she admits, "but it’s just funny."
"What's funny?" The atmosphere, though in dangerous terrain, is lighter. Tawan is strangely more comfortable, so she turns around and watches Ayla's back from behind. The quilt only covers the lower half of her body. The skin on her back looks so... porcelain.
"How you act like you hate me but then probably jerk off at the thought of me." Ayla presses her knees together when she lets that out. It’s weird, it would be gross from any other person, but Tawan... maybe the arousal comes from everything the circumstances imply.
The older lets out a bitter laugh. "Unluckily, I didn't have the time," she clears her throat, "but I have to congratulate you for not caring about social rules and doing it anyway, even with me being around."
Ayla's breath catches. She’s not sure what Tawan means, but she also has a clue. She couldn’t possibly have been that loud... right?
"What are you-" She bravely turns around and finds Tawan's fierce gaze, "...talking about?" Her voice fades at the end.
"I heard you," she shamelessly puts a strand of hair behind Ayla's free ear, "so if I were you, I would stop pointing with your finger."
Silence settles between them, and some seconds after, Ayla comes up with something not without laughing dismissively before. Tawan looks at her stranged.
"Do you think I would do that because of you?", she raises her brows, "I just... miss my boyfriend. Three months are not easy."
That’s a low hit. But Tawan is so, so confident that she doesn't throat what she just heard. She only smiles back as she strokes Ayla's cheek with her thumb. The younger melts under the touch, which she hopes isn’t perceptible for Tawan.
"Were you missing your stupid boyfriend when you rubbed against my cock?" She whispers boldly.
That catches Ayla off guard. She did it on purpose, to tease, but she didn’t expect to get horny from it. She didn’t expect Tawan to be that hard and for the contact to be that rough. She didn’t expect to get so aroused that she had to touch herself in the shower because she was going crazy.
Tawan gets closer, leaning on one of her elbows as she whispers against Ayla's face, "Are you missing him now?" She looks at the younger's parted lips, running her thumb along them.
Ayla doesn’t know what to do. The game was fun until she was caught. This, whatever is happening, shouldn’t have arrived but she doesn’t... dislike it. In fact she’s becoming more and more aroused with Tawan's closeness.
"Just let me know, and I will help you take care of it," she then lets go of Ayla's jaw and leans back on the ground, looking up.
Tawan feels it again, her head throbbing against the fabric of her shorts. She awkwardly, discreetly arranges her hard dick under the sheet.
Ayla is a mess. She looks up too with her legs bent, knees pressing together, her breath catching. She wants to touch so bad.
Something comes up, but saying it out loud would be weird, it would make her a pervert and a cheating bitch.
But she can't help it. She’s been having these thoughts all throughout summer anyway. And Tawan caught her, so there's no point in faking anymore.
"Let me rub," she lets out without thinking too much.
"Sorry?"
It catches Tawan off ward, but she doesn’t find it weird. Not in the state she is. She can't really think straight.
"Just... just this once. I really haven’t done it in three months," Ayla says with her fingers pressing on her center under the quilt. "Let me rub against you."
There’s no going back now. If she says no, everything will be a uncomfortable; if she says yes, what could she possibly lose? In a week, she probably won’t see any of these people ever again. Ayla is hot, she likes her, she doesn’t have any responsibility towards the boyfriend.
"Okay," she doesn’t think too much about it. She wants it too. "Come here." Tawan uncovers herself, pushing the quilt with her feet. Ayla can instantly perceive the erect length under the fabric.
"Oh my god," she gasps shyly as she walks with her knees and positions herself straddling Tawan. "You're so hard."
The slow contact is overwhelming and piercing, almost painful. Ayla rolls her eyes back just by sitting and feeling Tawan's shaft against her cunt.
The older puts her hands on Ayla's thighs, noticing her bristly skin.
"It's so thick, Tawan," she almost moans starting to slowly sway back and forth.
The way the girl on top moans her name makes Tawan's hips lift a little, which makes Ayla smile. The way Ayla's tits are squeezed by her sleeping shirt, how her collarbones stand out, her tiny waist is perfectly shaped, her uncovered feminine shoulders move slightly. Tawan's never seen something so sexy.
And she's never felt something as sexy as Ayla's pussy leaking through capes of fabric.
"Fuck," Tawan gasps when Ayla pushes backwards deeply, encompassing all of her length with her cunt. "You're soaked."
Ayla dismisses it. She no longer has time to feel embarrassment. She brings her hands to her waist and runs them under the fabric until she reaches her tits, and squeezes them under Tawan's gaze. That hot scene makes the older push up a little tougher and press her hands on Ayla's thighs harder.
The younger bites her lip, just like she did earlier, and Tawan swears she could finish just from that sighting. Ayla stops abruptly. "Could you... take off your shorts? Just to get better contact."
"I don't have any boxers on," the older admits. It makes Ayla's clit throb harder just to imagine it. "You should take off your shorts."
"I'll ruin yours," she smiles shyly. "Maybe... let's do it, both of us. But that's it."
Tawan just nods, because who is she to deny a cute girl who wants deeper contact and some release. Ayla gets off her and takes off her shorts, just as Tawan does the same under her eyes. She’d swear she could see a spark in the younger's wide hungry eyes.
That look in Ayla is extremely hot. Her long hair cascading down her back, her tiny shirt and panties defining her body perfectly.
"Let me be on top," Tawan commands as she gets on her knees, the tip of her cock leaking precum on her stomach. She can't take it any longer. She needs to release soon.
Ayla lays back down without being able to look away from Tawan's erection. "So you wanted this too..." she whispers.
"It's a benefit for me," she says, sitting back on her heels and circling her cock with her fingers, harder than ever. This is so much better than any foreplay she's ever tried. She uses her other hand to gently pry Ayla's pale knees apart, and she slowly spreads them, opening her legs to receive the longed-for contact once more.
Despite the dim light, Tawan notices the dark damp patch on Ayla's underwear and her mouth waters. She wants to touch it with her tongue, pull it away, and suck on her clit until Ayla comes so hard that she begs her to stop. But she knows this isn't the case; they're just helping each other gain something. The goal isn't to make the other feel good, even though Tawan is dying to make the beautiful girl never forget her.
This should be selfish. For Tawan, it’s not.
However, she ventures to use her thumb to trace circles on Ayla's clit through the damp fabric, causing her hips to sag slightly. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back, which emboldens Tawan to use her three middle fingers to increase the contact as she continues to stroke her shaft.
"Ah-" Ayla cups one of her breasts through the fabric and squeezes it tightly. Tawan decides to tease her a little, so she takes the waistband of her panties and pulls them up to press against Ayla's wet lips. She wails almost imperceptibly, but Tawan enjoys the partial view of her swollen cunt and the way she writhes. "I need your cock, please..."
The older pulls up a little more, and then gets closer walking on her knees until her thighs are touching the back of Ayla's. She jerks off to the view, all under Ayla's eyes.
Tawan lifts herself slightly to press her dick against Ayla's pubic bone, just to imagine how deep she could go. Bad idea; it drives them both wild, but neither can show it. It would be showing too much interest.
The older begins teasing Ayla with the tip just above her clit, drawing circles and lines up and down. Ayla continues squeezing her breast, now also clutching her head.
Tawan places one hand on either side of Ayla's head to prevent herself from falling onto her body, letting her length find contact on its own, and her hips begin a steady rhythm. Ayla gasps again, her breath hitting Tawan's jaw as she lowers herself slightly, searching for a kiss, but Ayla avoids it by looking away.
Even though it frustrates her, Tawan continues moving. It makes her feel even more powerful, knowing that the only way Ayla can relieve her arousal is with someone she doesn't like and can't seem to stand.
Tawan doesn't realize that her panting, piercing Ayla's ear, is bringing her closer to climax.
"Let me see your tits," the older pleads, returning to her knees without stopping the swaying of her hips. The younger hesitates. "You're seeing my dick. I'm at a disadvantage, and I'll still be even if I see your tits."
Finally, after a few seconds of thought, Ayla nods and gives in despite how childish that reasoning is. It makes her smile inside.
Tawan then takes hold of the hem of Ayla's tight t-shirt and lifts it to reveal her small, firm breasts, without removing the garment completely.
"You can touch," Ayla whispers, somewhat surrendered to the situation and unsure why she's holding back. Her boyfriend is the last thing on her mind at this moment, but something makes her think that if there are clothes involved, it's not entirely cheating.
Tawan places both hands on Ayla's breasts and gently squeezes them, then massages her nipples, then squeezes a little harder as the rhythm of her hips increases.
In the frenzy of the swaying motion, unintentionally, the tip of Tawan's dick slips into Ayla's entrance, even through the fabric. Both feel an electric shock in their pleasure points at the glimpse of what penetration would be like.
Tawan pauses for a moment, waiting for Ayla's permission to remove the garment.
And the permission comes.
"Take it off, but just friction." Tawan nods, trying to hide a smile, and quickly removes the underwear that prevents carnal contact. "Do you have protection?"
The older denies. Despite having been secretly with Gorya at the beginning of the program, she didn't think she'd run out of condoms, or that in this last week, in the middle of nowhere, she'd need them.
"Are you clean?" Tawan nods, and Ayla opens her legs again.
The sight before her is one in a million. Ayla with her legs spread, knees bent, breasts exposed, cheeks flushed, hair slightly disheveled, and her pussy dripping. Tawan swallows and gets to work again, almost coming on the spot when the tip of her cock touches Ayla's throbbing clit and she begins to work it. Tawan places her hand above her dick, pressing the top of it while the bottom rubs against Ayla's clit.
"You're gonna make me come, Tawan," Ayla mutters through gritted teeth, "I'm so close." And the older is too, but she’d rather make Ayla feel good, so she takes her dick and stimulates Ayla's clit with its swollen head, rubbing it rapidly side to side.
The sound of the wetness is obscene, viscous, accompanied by Ayla's moans.
"I'm gonna come," Ayla covers her mouth to stifle her increasingly loud moans. "Shit, keep going, please," her hips begin to rock, seeking more contact, rising slightly as Tawan works her most sensitive spot and with her other hand presses down on her belly. Ayla closes her eyes, throws her head back, bites her lip, and grips the sheet tightly as if it will give her stability. She murmurs through gritted teeth, her knees coming together in an attempt to endure a little longer, but Tawan quickly separates them to continue stimulating her comfortably.
She tries not to come right there, on Ayla's stomach, and focuses only on making her climax, but she can't help but moan at the sight of her so utterly spent beneath her.
"Don't stop, Tawan," she pleads, instinctively closing her legs again. Tawan insistently opens them once more, her hips chasing hers.
"I'm coming, shit, right there." Ayla bites her lip hard, her eyebrows twitching as the bundle of nerves is stimulated deep within her body. Her hips become frantic, her chest rises and falls violently, and then everything inside her shatters.
The heat that had built up during the afternoon thanks to Tawan, which couldn't be completely extinguished in the shower, now explodes at the point where her clit and the older's length rub together.
"Fuck, yes," her legs tremble frantically, her hips bouncing up and down, both drawing her closer to and trying to pull away from Tawan, who continues to stimulate her, determined to prolong the moment.
Ayla grips Tawan's forearm tightly, trying to make her stop, but Tawan ensures that Ayla, feeling the release slide between her folds, lets everything out.
A few seconds later, Tawan pulls back a few inches and releases her cock, knowing that continuing to stroke it, slick with Ayla's moisture, could cause her to ejaculate on her, which is not the intention.
She strokes the inside of her thighs; the gentle tingling and the recent explosion make Ayla smile as she breathes heavily with her eyes closed. She feels too vulnerable in this state, and it makes her feel a little ashamed that Tawan is doing this to her and seeing her like this.
"That was so good," a small laugh escapes her lips. She strokes the thigh still pressed against hers. The older smiles with pride and smugness. "Why didn't you finish?"
The question takes Tawan by surprise, and she too breathes heavily. "I don't think it's gentlemanly to splash you," Ayla playfully taps her thigh, feigning a grimace of indignation, "besides, you're the priority," she ventures to confess.
"Wow, that's very romantic of you," she says teasingly, but something inside her is truly melting. "Anyway, I wouldn't have told you to undress if I didn't want you to... do what's necessary." Ayla blushes as she admits this. Tawan is caught off guard. "You can... use me." The younger glances down at her finger tracing up and down Tawan's thigh, which tenses and prickles at the touch. Then she glances down at the still-erect cock of the woman kneeling before her legs, and inevitably, the heat begins to rise again within her. Ayla locks eyes with Tawan again, this time with a murderous tinge.
The older is considering it. What does Ayla mean by "using her"? Even though they've already taken the risk, she can't be referring to a much greater one like pregnancy from unprotected sex, right?
She has a boyfriend. She's probably on the pill.
But it's still a risk.
"What are you thinking?" Ayla notices the debate in Tawan's eyes and sits down, leaning back on her hands, a little closer to the older. "Don't you want to?"
"It's not that..." Tawan strokes her jaw, fighting the desire to kiss her that has haunted her dreams since the beginning of the program. "Are you on the pill?"
"Don't worry about it," Ayla smiles at the question and places her hand on Tawan's. "You can put the tip in and pull out whenever you need to."
The older finds it a fair proposition, even though it doesn't erase the risk. So she nods with a slight smile and extends her hand between their bodies. "Spit," she orders, and after biting her lip, Ayla gathers saliva and does so, looking directly into her eyes.
Tawan coats the throbbing head of her cock with spit and approaches Ayla's entrance, who remains seated facing her with her legs open. Slowly, Tawan finds the entrance and inserts the head without going any further, hearing the younger woman's breath.
The back-and-forth movement is very slight, almost imperceptible, but Ayla's folds receive and squeeze her dick with just the right pressure. "Fuck, you're so warm," Tawan moves her hands to Ayla's breasts and massages them gently. "So ready," the younger nods, still with a grimace of pleasure and pain.
Seeing this, Tawan decides to stop tentatively exploring and simply masturbate, keeping the tip inside Ayla. She doesn't want to hurt her.
Her hand slides down from Ayla's breast to her pubic area, and her thumb begins tracing light circles on her clit again. Ayla moans at the touch; Tawan's attention turns her on. Something she doesn't experience at home.
Ayla moves her hips in circles, trying to get Tawan to penetrate her a little further despite the slight pain it causes, but the older remains firm in her care. The stimulation of her thumb matches the rhythm of her hand moving up and down on her own genitals, accelerating the pace as she sees Ayla squirming, rolling her eyes, and pulling her hips closer.
"Oh, fuck it, get inside me," Ayla says abruptly, pushing Tawan toward her and placing her hands on the older's butt, both of them falling onto Ayla's back. "Shit, Tawan, you're so big."
When Tawan realizes, almost her entire cock is inside Ayla; she's on top of her, their chests rubbing together and their faces very close again. Ayla's walls almost suck her shaft in as she entered effortlessly thanks to her wetness.
"Fuck me," Ayla begs, her eyes pleading, drawing Tawan even closer by wrapping her legs around her waist. "Hard."
"Shut up," Tawan pleads through gritted teeth. She's on the verge of climaxing, so she slows her pace. "You're gonna make me come. Close your mouth." She covers Ayla's mouth, keeping inches from her face as the younger breathes heavily. Her cock isn't fully inside yet, and the small tear that falls to the side of Ayla's face tells her she needs to be more careful. "Does it hurt? Do you want me to take it out?"
The younger nods slightly. "Just a little." She releases her legs and lets go of Tawan, who raises her hips slightly to lessen the contact as she wipes the tear carefully with her thumb. Her dick is halfway in, which is enough for both of them.
Ayla strokes Tawan's toned arms and allows herself to do the same up her neck, then tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. The older takes the opportunity to leave a kiss on her wrist.
In the rhythmic motion, the younger feels the heat building inside her, increasing with each thrust and urgently needing to be quenched. She doesn't want to seem like an easy target, but she can't help it either. She can endure the pain as long as she has Tawan completely inside her.
Her heels press against Tawan's thighs, pulling her closer again. "Fill me with your cock," she whispers. The unexpected move causes Tawan to lose her balance slightly, her full weight falling on top of Ayla, who moans loudly in her ear. "Ah-God, like that, fuck me hard." Tawan buries her face in Ayla's neck and can't resist tasting her skin with her tongue as her hands slide down to her ass, pulling her towards her hips until she's fully inside her. Ayla wraps her arms around Tawan's neck.
"Take it all," Tawan whispers. The rhythm of the thrusts increases steadily, as does the volume of the moans inside the tent. "Your cunt takes it like a bitch"
Tawan's dirty talk sends Ayla into madness. Her hips begin a frenzy, causing her clit to rub against the older's pelvis as she thrusts hard. Her balls slap against Ayla, making her moan even louder, moans that are silenced by Tawan, who kisses her passionately and this time can't resist.
Their tongues instantly meet in a battle to see who can hold out longer without coming. Ayla bites Tawan's lower lip when she touches a sensitive spot inside her, and with a moan, she begs her to keep going, "Like that, don't stop."
Tawan quickens the pace in that direction, her face burying itself in Ayla's neck again, and Ayla hugs her tightly as she moves her hips up and down. "I'm gonna come, Ayla, shut up," the older warns, but Ayla is too lost in the sensations to listen and for anything other than coming to matter to her.
"Fuck me harder" her breath hits Tawan's ear, and she quickens her thrusts and pushes harder, making Ayla's walls burn with pain and contract with pleasure. "Like that, Tawan, I'm getting there," she digs her nails into the older's back.
Tawan tries with all her might not to come, to make Ayla finish first so she can pull out, but she doesn't think she can hold on. "I have to pull out," she warns, but against her will, Ayla holds her down with the strength of her legs. "Ayla, I'm-" she worries.
"Fill me with your cum," her hips rub hard against Tawan, who thrusts into her wildly, almost violently. "Fuck, I'm coming." Ayla's contracted walls squeeze Tawan's cock, sucking it tightly inside, and her cum spills out. Ayla feels the hot discharge within her as her limbs tingle and her eyes roll back. Tawan's balls continue to slap against her as Ayla stops moving her hips, too weak to continue.
Tawan thrusts repeatedly inside her, the sound of their skin colliding like applause, eliciting surrendered moans from both of them until the older's pelvis ceases its spasms and she collapses onto the girl beneath her, who embraces her and caresses the burning scratches on her back.
"This is the best thing I've ever felt," Ayla confesses in a whisper as she barely catches her breath. "I've never come so hard," she can hear Tawan's smile against her neck, where she places chaste kisses before looking at her.
"I'm glad to help," she says, glancing at Ayla's bruised lips and wanting to kiss them again, but unsure if it's the right time. The younger sees the desire in her eyes and takes the initiative, pushing Tawan's neck down and joining their mouths in a wet, passionate kiss, anything but tender. Her hips move gently up and down, testing her sensitivity.
"You're insatiable, Ayla," the older smiles between kisses and strokes Ayla's hair back.
Ayla licks her lips and places her hands on Tawan's shoulders. "I know," she pushes her back slightly so they both sit up, "Let's go to sleep."
Tawan nods and finally, slowly, withdraws from Ayla, her shaft still erect but relaxed. Her cum oozes from Ayla's entrance and trickles between her buttocks, ruining the sheet.
"What are we going to do?" the older asks with genuine interest. And the truth is, Ayla doesn't know the answer or if she'll have any explanation if something reckless happens, but she doesn't regret giving in to the desire to have Tawan ejaculate inside her.
Receiving no answer, Tawan inserts two fingers into Ayla's pussy and, to her surprise, slowly bends them, only to withdraw them with traces of cum.
Tawan brings her fingers to Ayla's mouth, who, without complaint, opens her lips and sucks on them until she swallows the contents.
"How filthy you are," the older whispers, smiling, surprised by Ayla's willingness to accept anything suggested.
"I guess that’s the first thing we agree on. You're the same," she shrugs and leans in to kiss Tawan, so that she too can taste the combination of their fluids. The older pulls her by the nape of her neck, and their tongues meet again in a passionate kiss that makes it clear how much they like each other.
***
"Yes, baby, just a few days left."
Tawan wakes to the sound of Ayla's raspy voice. The cool air seeping through the tent layers touches her face and her bare arm, but her body, pressed close to the younger girl's, is more than warm enough.
She opens her eyes a little wider, realizing their position. They had fallen asleep separately, back to back, after spending time together that meant nothing, but apparently, in their dreams, they had become entwined.
Ayla's back is pressed against Tawan's chest, who buries her nose in her grayish-blonde hair. The older wraps her arms around Ayla's waist, pulling her close. Her other arm slips under Ayla's neck, almost serving as a pillow, and their legs fit together like a puzzle.
It's still night. The silence outside means the alarms haven't gone off, and they can sleep a little longer.
Tawan inhales deeply into Ayla's hair and presses her hand to her stomach, holding her impossibly close.
They didn't talk about what things would be like from now on, but there's nothing wrong with enjoying this time a little longer, right?
Ayla stirs slightly, realizing the older has woken up. The movement causes her bottom to lightly brush against Tawan's length.
"Still not asleep? I told you to call me in the morning," the younger whispers. Tawan sees the brush as a gift from heaven, and understanding that Ayla is talking to her boyfriend, she pushes her hips closer to her bottom and slowly moves in circles, teasing the contact. "I understand about the time difference, but I was sleeping," Ayla sighs, "and so are the girls. Speak lower." She bites her lip as she feels Tawan behind her, the two of them almost becoming one, and pinches her forearm to signal her to stop.
However, Tawan ignores her and continues to brush persistently against Ayla's bottom. The hand that's been on her stomach moves to her waist, caressing her hip over her underwear, then down her thighs to her knee. There, Tawan massages her briefly, taking her time to move back up.
"I know you miss me, but I have to sleep," the younger says, a little frustrated, as she places her hand behind Tawan's head, pulling her towards her neck, inches from where her phone is. "No, I can't leave the tent," she sighs.
Tawan places her hand behind Ayla's knee and spreads her legs, lifting the one she's holding onto hers. Her skin is very soft, but it gradually becomes prickly.
The older continues moving so that her dick begins to stir beneath her shorts.
"I'm not going to hang up..." Ayla sighs. "Tell me." Tawan's hand slowly moves up and down Ayla's thigh, eliciting gasps and making her squirm against her burgeoning erection. Then, the older ventures to cup Ayla's pussy through her underwear, making her writhe under her touch and grab Tawan's wrist to stop her. But the older is insistent and, while leaving wet kisses on Ayla's neck, she begins to rub in circles on her clit.
"I-I don't know," her hips sway slightly in time with Tawan's. "I think..." The older's free hand grabs one of her breasts and squeezes it repeatedly while she continues to stimulate her erogenous zone and rub her ass. "Yes, I-I'm listening. What's bothering you?"
Tawan smiles at the question. Is that idiot really bothering her at this hour? And she's cynical enough to keep the conversation going without stopping this game.
Bitch. So hot.
Her cock is already fully erect, so she momentarily abandons stimulating Ayla and pulls her shorts down to her feet, just like last night. She wedges her erection between the girl's buttocks and rubs up and down through the fabric. She returns her attention to her pussy, but this time, slipping her hand inside the underwear and instantly noticing how wet Ayla is.
"Ah-" Ayla gasps involuntarily, and Tawan smiles openly at the humiliation ritual of which the boyfriend is unknowingly being subjected.
"You're soaked, fuck," Tawan whispers softly against her neck. The younger grabs Tawan's wrist again and tries to pull away, but her efforts are useless.
"No, just me, keep going." Tawan's rhythm against her ass and clit increases in intensity. Her other hand lifts her shirt in front, exposing her breasts just like a few hours ago, and she cups one of them, massaging it.
Ayla quickly silences her phone and turns her head to the side to warn Tawan, "Stop, please," but the older takes the opportunity to lick the corner of her lips and increase the pace of her fingers on her clit. "Ah- fuck- fuck, it feels so good," the desperation in her voice is evident, so Tawan continues.
Ayla unmutes her phone. "Yes, I'm- I'm listening, darling."
The nickname makes something inside Tawan twist with jealousy, so she decides to move Ayla's underwear aside and thrust into her quickly, without warning or permission.
"Oh, fuck!" The loud moan makes Tawan thrust repeatedly, stretching her tight walls that barely accommodate her. "No, I think... shit, I think there's a bad signal." Tawan resumes stimulating her clit as she pounds into her from behind.
She releases Ayla's breast and places her hand around her neck, making her look to the side. "I bet he doesn't fuck you this well," the older whispers, and Ayla rolls her eyes in pleasure as she shakes her head in denial. "You like it when I fuck you like this?" The younger girl nods, moving her own hips up and down to bring Tawan's entire cock inside her. Ayla bites her lower lip to stifle a cry of pleasure and pain.
"Yes, I can hear you," the heat builds gradually in her lower belly. Tawan's dick is so large it reaches places no one ever has, its thickness adding to the relentless stimulation of her clit.
Ayla pulls the phone away from her mouth. "I'm gonna come. Stop," she begs, whispering through gritted teeth, but the movement of her hips demands otherwise. Tawan thrusts into her even harder, making the impact of their bodies loud and steady. She feels the tension in her dick too, as hard and throbbing as it was a few hours ago. She wants to fill Ayla with her cum again and for her idiot boyfriend to hear them.
"Come," Tawan suggests against her neck as she wraps her free hand around it again, barely audible, "so he can hear how a beautiful, hot girl should be treated. Come on my fucking cock."
Ayla silences her phone again, not knowing where she finds the strength to keep holding it. "Shit, fuck me like that. Harder," Tawan thrusts into her repeatedly, going in and out all the way, fast and steady. The obscene sound of their wet bodies brings them both to the peak. "I-I'm coming, babe, don't stop," she moans loudly, and the older hushes her. They're not that far from the other tents. "Fill me up, come inside me again. Keep fucking me." Tawan continues stimulating the clit while thrusting into Ayla at full speed.
"Unmute the phone," the older orders. And Ayla, who is nothing more than a pathetic, needy girl at her mercy, obeys and leaves it on the ground, almost in the corner of the tent. She can hear her boyfriend ranting in the distance.
Tawan covers her mouth again and thrusts into her insistently, until she feels the inner walls of Ayla's cunt suck her dick in and milk her inside. They both come at the same time, and if Tawan didn't have any decency, she would let Ayla open her mouth. Her moans are music to her ears, but she should be considerate, right?
Ayla's discharge impregnates the base of Tawan's shaft, and the older's cum is like cream around Ayla's hole.
Tawan thrusts deep inside her several more times to prolong the sensation as Ayla writhes, feeling her pelvis contract, her toes twitch, her legs tingle. Tawan also rubs her clit a little more as she slowly withdraws, inserting her fingers into Ayla to soften the blow. They thrust repeatedly, gently and slowly, until Ayla is exhausted, her back to Tawan as she catches her breath.
"Ayla? Honey? Are you okay?" They both hear from a distance. Tawan looks for the younger's gaze, and when she finds it, they smile at each other. Tawan leans down to give her a quick kiss and reaches for the phone.
"I can't hear you, love, I have to hang up," she says, her voice trembling. "I'll call you later." Ayla throws her phone aside after hanging up and turns to Tawan. "What was that?"
Tawan thinks for a moment, "Hm... the best of your life?" She feigns innocence.
"I think..." Ayla stretches out her arms and pulls Tawan toward her so she falls onto her body. "You'll have to try a little harder." She drags the tip of her index finger along Tawan's arm, who stares at her incredulously, feigning offense.
"If we pretend this didn't work," Tawan points all around, "Maybe we could have this whole week for ourselves."
The younger smiles and runs her fingers through Tawan's hair as she kisses her neck, sighing deeply. All of what just happened is sinking in.
"We'll find a way. I don't think I can go another day without your sex," Ayla confesses as the older starts going down, licking her nipples now. "But I still kind of hate you."
Tawan looks up at that. "It's mutual," she leaves a hot kiss on Ayla's lips, short but wet, and then gets on her knees again as she grabs her shaft, "turn around, Ayla. On all fours"