The first place we stopped to set up camp was in a small town called Cataviña. It was only about 4:30pm and we wanted to keep driving, but were strictly prohibited by friends to not drive after sundown on our entire journey to Mexico. I have 2 problems with this: 1) that’s too damn early because I’m too excited to stop at 4:30pm and 2) don’t tell me what to do and now that you told me not to I really wanna because now I’m curious 🙂 So as the sun starts setting we start deciding if we’re going to give in to our friends ghost stories and strong warnings from “should I drive at night in Mexico” Google searches. People warned us of the pitch black night, and how unforgiving the darkness is when it’s pulled over your eyes. “Just don’t do it” they say but offer no reason, they say it so mysteriously. The way it was described to me by some people made it sound like something secret and magical happens in rural Mexico when the sun goes down. Like there’s teams of hooded villains that emerge from underground networks and have dance battles and crazy glowing deep sea creatures seep out of the cracks in the desert floor and anyone found driving is hunted down, robbed, raped and cloned. We decide hey that sounds interesting and screw everyone’s advice that we asked for and we try to drive into the night because we’re rebels. Immediately this proves to be a bad idea because it gets intensely DARK and I don’t mean California kinda dark. There aren’t street lights around for hundreds of miles and the moon and stars are covered by fog. The roads are riddled with basketball sized potholes and rock slide areas. So our Thug Life moment didn’t last for very long and we pulled off the main road onto a gravel path that led us back into the cactus forest.
The path twists around giant rocks, trees and bushes. It leads us passed another truck with a tent pitched, and an outhouse with no door on it, and assume this gravel path is some sort of campsite. We can’t find anyone anywhere so we drive around to find a place to camp. We turn a couple corners and come to a cleaning with a huge tree in the middle of it. We pitch our tent and set up our little home for the night. Once everything is in place we go exploring.
Passed the clearing we find an enormous gap in the vegetation and look down and notice that the terrain has changed from dirt to sand. And there are brush stroke like markings on the surface of the sand clearing, the inprint remaining of the last time the water danced on top of it. It was a large dry river bed and it was such a cool thing to realize as you’re standing right in it. We feel seashells crunch under our feet and wonder what river this was and how it connected to the ocean, and how long ago was this wet? We wondered what animals had swam right where we stood and how glittery the sun looked when it bounced off of the waters reflection in this exact spot. As we walk further the old river starts sinking and sand walls begin to surround it like a valley. We try to take pictures but the sun is basically gone for the night so we make our way back to our tent.
The temperature has dropped to about 40 degrees Fahrenheit. Even with the tent zipped up and us wrapped tightly in our sleeping bags and covered with blankets, we’re still from California so we’re still freezing. It’s amazing how blistering hot it can get in the desert during the day and then suddenly just drop to freezing so drastically, so quickly.
Me and Johnny smoke a joint then lay our heads down to go to sleep. I’m trying not to laugh because its like 6pm and if you’re an insomniac like me you just laughed too because who the hell can fall asleep at 6pm!? I reach out of my boring sleeping bag and into Johnny’s fun sleeping bag and feel around in the dark for his penis that is already hard and waiting, as it always is. Always so inviting and wonderful. Yay. I lean over and kiss his mouth. I love the way that the parts of my skin that are exposed feel so cold, then the warm, wet skin from my mouth on his mouth contrasts so much. My chilled upper lip folds under his kiss and it melts every inch of me. His tongue feels hot and I try to catch it with my lips. We abandon our sleeping bags but try to keep the blanket draped over us at the same time. His body heat presses into mine and my nerves light up. I love the way my outer pussy lips feel so cold, but when he drives his enormous cock into me he lures out my hot cum with every single fucking pulse, until my pussy, stomach and thighs are all covered in hot cum. Every stroke brings more heat. We quit trying to cover ourselves with this stupid blanket because we don’t care about blankets right now because nothing else matters. The soft, thin sleeping bag material gets wet quickly and sticks to my skin like cellophane. Every time I cum I can feel the warmth overflow a onto my cold thighs and the contrast excites my nerves. We stop once or twice because as per usual I can’t keep quiet and we times think there might be a bear out there or one of those hooded villains. But we don’t care about bears or villains right now. The air feels cold and crisp when I suck it in hard trying to catch my breath after every orgasm. When he cums it’s like a blast of hot lava that fills me up then overflows my tight little hole like an eruption all over my legs and panties that are still on, just pushed to the side. Bucket List Challenge by accident: #37. CAMPING.