Chapter 4

We rolled up to the reception hut, a small wooden cabin half-hidden behind a row of wild hedges. A man stepped out to greet us before I’d even switched off the engine.

He was tanned, barefoot, and wearing nothing but a wide-brimmed straw hat with the camp’s logo stitched neatly on the front — Bare Woodland. He smiled easily, completely unbothered by his lack of clothes.

“Morning,” he said in a warm, cheerful tone, as if greeting old friends. “Welcome to Bare Woodland. You’ll be on pitch seven — just follow the track round past the oak trees and you’ll see the clearing on your right.” He pointed down the lane, the hat’s brim bobbing as he spoke. “And, as I expect you’re aware, we have a clothing-optional rule here. Feel free to explore, however you’re comfortable.”

I kept my expression steady and nodded. “Thanks. Looks great.”

He grinned, tipping the edge of his hat. “Enjoy your stay.”

Lou gave a polite smile, though I could see the faintest twitch at the corner of her mouth, like she was fighting back a laugh. Phil coughed quietly into his hand, his face caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief.

As I pulled away, none of us spoke at first. Then Lou burst out laughing. “Well, that answers the question about how serious they are!”

Phil chuckled from the back. “Reckon he’s the bravest one here.”

I laughed too, the tension breaking, and steered the car along the track. We followed the winding path between the trees until it opened into a secluded clearing. The grass was flat and soft, a perfect patch of sunlight filtering through the leaves.

“This is us,” I said, cutting the engine.

For a moment, we just sat there, taking it all in — the rustle of the trees, birdsong drifting from somewhere close, the faint murmur of a stream nearby. Then Lou unbuckled her seatbelt and smiled. “Right. Let’s do this before we lose our nerve.”

We climbed out, still buzzing with a mix of excitement and nerves. Phil unhooked the trailer while I opened the boot. Lou dragged the tent bag across the grass, laughing under her breath as the wind caught her hair.

“Careful,” I said, my voice light but with a hint of caution. “It’s new. Don’t rip it before we even start.”

“Relax,” Lou said, grinning up at me from where she knelt by the air mattress. “I know what I’m doing.”

All three of us began working on getting the camp set up. Lou was pumping the air mattress, her movements steady and rhythmic, her T-shirt pulling tight across her chest with each push. Her breasts shifted under the thin fabric, catching the sunlight, and I noticed Phil’s gaze linger on her, his jaw tightening, a faint flush creeping up his neck. He snapped his eyes away just as Lou glanced up, pretending to fuss with a tent pole. The sight sent a rush of heat through me, my cock stirring as I gripped the ropes in my hands, trying to focus on the task.

It didn’t take long before we were all at it — poles, pegs, ropes — the usual chaos of setting up camp. Every few minutes, one of us would laugh at some mistake or tangle, and the sound echoed through the clearing.

Phil hammered the final peg in with a triumphant smack and stood back, wiping sweat from his brow. “Not bad,” he said, brushing dirt off his hands, a grin tugging at his lips.

Lou nodded approvingly, standing up and dusting off her knees. “See? Told you we’d make a good team.”

I looked around at the finished setup — the tents side by side, the trailer neatly tucked under a tree, the morning sun still bright overhead — and felt that familiar hum in my chest, a mix of excitement and something deeper, stirred by the way Lou moved, the way Phil watched her.

“Right,” I said, a smile spreading across my face. “Welcome to Bare Woodland.”

Lou raised her arms dramatically, spinning once on the grass, her laughter bright and free. “Let the adventure begin.”

Phil laughed, shaking his head. “I’ve got a feeling it already has.”

For a moment, none of us spoke. The laughter from before faded, replaced by a soft, uncertain quiet. We just stood there, looking at one another — three friends suddenly aware of the promise we’d made.

I broke the silence first. “Right. Okay. Remember the code word — tea. If anyone starts to feel uncomfortable, we stop. No questions, no pressure. Agreed?”

Lou nodded. Phil gave a quick, tight smile and did the same.

“Anyone getting cold feet?” I asked.

Neither of them answered at first. Phil shifted his weight, rubbing his forehead, eyes on the ground. Lou crossed her arms loosely, glancing between us. The air felt heavier, the light quieter somehow.

Then Phil took a breath and said, “No. Let’s try this.”

Lou looked at him — surprise flickering across her face — then gave a small, approving smile. “Alright,” she said. “In that case, I’ve got a suggestion.”

She stepped closer to the fold-up table we’d set up between the tents and tapped a finger against it. “We’ll undress in our tents. That way it’s private, no pressure. When we’re ready, we all meet back here.”

I nodded slowly. “Makes sense.”

Phil agreed with a quiet “Yeah.”

For a second, we just stood there again, the sound of the breeze moving through the trees around us. Then Phil cleared his throat and headed towards his tent, unzipping it with a brisk tug.

Lou and I exchanged a look — nervous, but tinged with something else — before turning and walking to ours.

Our tent was easily the biggest of the two — one of those modern, domed designs with enough headroom to stand straight without stooping. Inside, the air was warm and faintly scented with the fabric of the new canvas. The blow-up double bed sat raised off the ground in the centre, its thick duvet and scatter of pillows making it look more like a room than a tent. Lou had outdone herself; she’d even brought proper sheets. It looked fit for a king.

There was still plenty of space around it — room for our bags, the lantern, and the small fold-up chair she’d insisted on bringing “for reading.”

We stood there for a moment, the quiet stretching between us. Outside, I could hear the faint rustle of leaves and the soft creak of canvas from Phil’s tent, but nothing else.

Lou glanced at me, her mouth curved in a small, nervous smile. I could tell she was waiting for me to move first. I raised an eyebrow, daring her silently.

She tilted her head, the corner of her mouth twitching like she was trying not to laugh — a challenge flickering between us without a word spoken.

I looked at her for a moment, the stillness heavy between us.

“Ready?” I asked quietly.

Lou took a breath, eyes steady on mine. “Yeah,” she said, her voice calm but edged with something that felt like nerves—or maybe excitement.

For a second neither of us moved. Then, almost at the same time, we began to undress.

It wasn’t rushed. Just slow, measured, like we were both feeling our way through unfamiliar ground. Lou pulled at the hem of her T-shirt while I reached for the buttons on my jeans. The faint rustle of fabric filled the tent, each sound sharper in the silence.

Every so often, our eyes met. A quick glance. A shared, nervous grin. The kind that said we’re really doing this.

She folded her clothes neatly, setting them on the chair by the bed, while I dropped mine beside my bag. The air felt cooler against my skin now, the canvas walls somehow both close and open at once.

When we were both down to nothing, Lou gave a small, shaky laugh and said softly, “Well… no turning back now, is there?”

I smiled, my pulse steady but quick. “Guess not.”

I couldn’t help but look at her then—really look. Even after all the years together, she still bewitched me. Every curve, every line of her body felt familiar yet new under the soft tent light. The way her hair fell over her shoulders, the faint tremor in her breath—it all struck me at once, leaving me quietly in awe.

For a moment, we just stood there—bare, awkward, and strangely alive—before I nodded towards the tent flap. “Shall we?”

She nodded back, a faint colour in her cheeks.

But then, as I shifted to move, a rush of heat surged through me, unbidden. My body betrayed me, and I felt a throbbing erection rise, impossible to ignore. Lou’s eyes flicked downward, catching it, and her brows shot up.

“Shit, Chris, really?” she said, her voice a mix of surprise and amusement, a grin tugging at her lips.

“Oh, shit,” I stammered, my face burning. “Sorry, I can’t help it.” I let out a nervous laugh, rrubbingmy head.  “God, just seeing you naked still turns me on.”

Lou giggled, the sound light but warm, her eyes softening with something like pride or pleasure at my admission. “Well,” she said, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper, “you need to do something about it.”

“Like what?” I asked, half-embarrassed, my pulse racing as her gaze held mine.

She smirked, trying to stifle another laugh. “Well, we don’t have time for sex. I don’t know—wank off or something.”

“What?” I said, my voice cracking with a mix of shock and sheepish laughter, my erection still painfully obvious.

“Just do it, quick,” Lou said, her tone playful but with a spark of something daring in her eyes. She bit her lip, clearly holding back a laugh at my predicament, but there was a heat in her gaze that made my skin prickle.

I hesitated for a split second, then gave in. I reached down, my hand wrapping around myself, the motion slow at first, tentative. My gaze flicked to Lou, and I saw her watching me, her expression shifting from playful to something hungrier, her lips parting slightly. The way she looked at me—intense, unashamed—sent my head racing.

“Shit,” she murmured, her voice low and breathy. “That’s hot.”

Her words hit me like a spark to dry grass, and my hand moved faster, harder, the rhythm building as the heat in my body coiled tighter. Lou’s eyes never left me, her gaze burning with a mix of fascination and desire. Her mouth opened slightly, and she let out a soft gasp, her breath quickening in time with my movements.

Then, as if drawn by some unspoken pull, she stepped closer. “Don’t hold on, we haven’t much time,” she said, her voice low and urgent, a playful command that sent another surge of heat through me. Before I could process it, she closed the distance between us, her hands finding my face as she kissed me passionately, her lips fierce and hungry against mine. The taste of her, the warmth of her body so close, made my head spin. Then, with a wicked little smile, she sank to her knees in front of me.

The first touch of her lips sent a shockwave through me. Her tongue flicked out, teasing, then slid along me with slow, deliberate licks. The sensation was overwhelming—her warmth, her softness, the faint hum of the forest outside the tent, the way the canvas filtered the sunlight into a hazy glow around us. It was too much, and yet I couldn’t get enough.

“Lou,” I gasped, my voice rough, my hands instinctively finding her hair, fingers threading through the soft strands as she worked. She moved with purpose, her lips and tongue coaxing me closer to the edge with every second. The sounds she made—soft, eager—pushed me further, the heat in my core spiraling out of control.

My hips bucked slightly, the pressure building, my body trembling as I fought to hold on. But her words echoed in my head—don’t hold on—and her lips tightened around me, her movements growing more insistent, her hands gripping my thighs as she took me deeper. The world narrowed to just her—her breath, her touch, the hungry way she looked up at me through her lashes.

“Fuck,” I groaned, my voice barely audible, my head tilting back as the sensation overwhelmed me. The release hit me like a wave, my body shuddering as I came, spilling into her mouth. Lou didn’t pull away, taking it all, her eyes locked on mine with a fierce, almost triumphant intensity.

When it was over, I was breathless, my legs shaky as I looked down at her. Lou rose to her feet, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, a sly grin spreading across her face. “Well,” she said, her voice husky but teasing, “that’s one way to start the adventure.”

I laughed, still catching my breath, my body buzzing with the afterglow. “You’re unbelievable,” I managed, my voice thick with admiration and something deeper, something that felt like it was tying us closer in that small, sunlit tent.

Lou turned, rummaging through her bag, and tossed me a pack of wet wipes with a playful smirk. “Clean up, stud,” she said, already grabbing her toothbrush and a small bottle of water. She squeezed some toothpaste onto the brush and started scrubbing her teeth, the bristles moving quickly as her gaze darted to me with a teasing glint in her eyes. Then, she tipped the bottle back, rinsing her mouth with a quick swig, swishing it around before spitting neatly out through a slight opening of the tent where the grass poked through.

I wiped myself down, the cool wipes grounding me as my pulse slowly steadied. The air between us was still charged, but there was a comfort in the way we moved around each other, like this was just another part of our rhythm.

Lou set the water bottle down and turned to me, her bare skin catching the light as she stepped closer. “Ready for the rest of it?” she asked, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

I nodded, my pulse still racing. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

We unzipped the tent flap together, the soft rasp of it sounding louder than it should have. Lou glanced at me once more — a shared, wordless breath — before we stepped out into the open.

The fresh air hit my skin first — cool, clean, alive. It carried the faint scent of pine and smoke, and I felt it everywhere, every inch of me suddenly aware of the world around us. The light had softened since we’d gone inside, the trees casting thin stripes of shade across the clearing.

Lou stood beside me, her shoulders drawn back, her hair stirring in the breeze. For a second, neither of us spoke. The quiet felt vast.

I looked towards Phil’s tent — its flap still closed, no sound from inside. My pulse picked up a little. “Guess he’s not ready yet,” I said, my voice lower than I meant it to be.

Lou gave a small smile, one corner of her mouth curving. “Maybe he’s chickened out.”

“Maybe,” I said, though part of me wasn’t sure. The air seemed to hum with possibility, the stillness thick between the trees.

Lou stepped forward, turning her face up towards the light. The sun caught her skin, warm and golden, and I had to look away for a moment, not from shame, but because the sight of her made my chest ache.

She laughed quietly. “Well,” she said, glancing back at me, “I suppose this makes us the brave ones.”

I smiled. “Looks that way.”

We stood there for a moment longer, two figures in the quiet clearing, the sound of distant birdsong the only witness. The campsite beyond the trees seemed to fade, leaving just us — the air, the sun, and that strange mix of nerves and thrill that came from knowing there was no hiding now.

The zip of Phil’s tent broke the morning quiet. Lou’s breath hitched beside me, sharp and shaky, as the flap parted and he stepped out, naked as we were.

For a split second, none of us moved.

Lou stood rigid, her shoulders locking, chin dipping like she could shrink into herself. One arm slid across her stomach, fingers grazing her elbow in a frail attempt to shield her chest. Phil froze at the tent’s mouth, eyes dropping for a heartbeat before jerking back up. He gave me a quick nod, but his gaze snagged on Lou—too long, too raw, like he couldn’t help himself.

The air thickened, heavy with unspoken tension. Every second stretched, taut and electric, like a wire about to snap.

“Well,” Phil muttered, forcing a laugh as he took a cautious step forward. “Here we are. We did it.”

“Yes,” Lou whispered, her voice steady but thin, like she was holding herself together by a thread. Her hand trembled as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her cheeks blooming pink.

“Everyone still good?” I asked, my voice casual, though my mind was racing, taking in their nervous energy. My pulse quickened at the sight—her flush, his awkward shuffle.

“For now,” Phil said, his eyes darting to Lou again. His mouth quirked, half-grin, half-wince, and he scrubbed the back of his neck like he didn’t know where to put his hands. That quick glance at her body sent a hot surge through me, my blood pounding with raw desire. Lou shifted her weight, her arm still half-covering her chest, and a faint tremor ran through her, like she could feel his eyes on her skin.

God, this was better than any fantasy I’d played out in my head. Phil’s shy, fumbling glances and Lou’s delicate, embarrassed squirm had me aching, my body alive with want. The way her thighs pressed together, the way his shoulders hunched like he was trying not to stare—it was intoxicating, their vulnerability laid nude, and I was consumed by it.

“Right,” I said, grinning to ease the tension, though my thoughts were locked on Phil seeing her, drinking her in. “Get the beers, man—let’s get this party started.”

Lou let out a breathy laugh, almost a gasp. “Yeah, Phil, hurry up,” she said, her voice shaky as she tried for her usual playfulness. She moved toward a camp chair, her steps hesitant, and sat down, her arm still shielding her chest. I sat down with her, quick to settle into the chair.

“Okay, okay,” Phil chuckled, turning toward the cool box by his tent. His steps were careful, like he was afraid to move too fast and break the spell. But as he turned, it happened—Lou, now seated, shifted in her chair, her legs parting just enough as she reached for her towel on the ground. The motion was innocent, or maybe not, who cares. Phil’s eyes flicked down, and there it was—her smooth, shaven pussy, exposed for a split second in the morning light. His face froze, eyes widening before he snapped his head away, cheeks burning red. Lou caught it—his quick, guilty stare—and her breath stopped. She yanked the towel over her lap, her thighs clamping shut, her free hand flying to cover her mouth as if she could hide the blush scorching her face.

Hell, my body was ablaze,  my cock pulsing with a primal need. The way Phil’s eyes had locked on her, the way she’d flinched and curled into herself—it was like a spark to dry tinder. I wanted to pull that towel away, let him see every inch of her nude body again, let that moment stretch forever. The thirst of my wishes diluted my shame, leaving nothing but pure, unfiltered arousal.

Phil crouched by the cool box, fumbling with the lid, his ears practically glowing. “Here we go,” he said, voice too bright, too strained, as he handed Lou a beer, then me. His fingers brushed hers, and she flinched, just a little, her eyes darting to the ground.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible, her cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. She clutched the bottle like a lifeline, her knuckles pale.

I popped my beer’s cap, the cold glass grounding me even as my body hummed with want. “Cheers,” I said, raising it.

Phil managed a grin, nervous but real. “To… whatever this is,” he said, his laugh shaky but honest.

Lou’s giggle was soft, fragile, but it broke the silence. We all laughed then, a shared release, though it didn’t touch the heat pulsing under my skin. The camp chairs creaked as we sat around the table, the sun warm on our naked bodies.

The laughter didn’t clear anything. It just draped a thin veil over the truth—Lou’s shy, trembling exposure, Phil’s flustered glances, and me, caught in the middle, my body alight with the image of my wife’s nude skin under my friend’s gaze. This wasn’t guilt. This was a fire, and I was ready to burn.

I took a swig of my beer, the cold liquid doing nothing to douse the flames in my head. Lou’s quick glance at Phil, his stolen look at her—they burned into me, heavy with a meaning I hadn’t seen coming. This was supposed to be a laugh, a weekend escape, a fucking dare. But now? My skin hummed, alive with something wild, something I couldn’t name. Her eyes on him, his on her—it was like a current running through me, electric and wrong, and I didn’t want it to stop.

The beers went down with ease. The warm air, the quiet rustle of trees, the faint hiss from the barbecue—it all felt like a dream, like we’d stepped into a place where the rules didn’t hold. My pulse raced, their glances replaying in my mind’s eye, sharp and vivid. What the hell was this? Arousal, sure, but tangled with something else—confusion, excitement, a restless itch I couldn’t shake.

Lou sat back in her camping chair, one leg crossed loosely over the other, the sun glinting across her nude skin. At first, her movements were hesitant, guarded, but as the minutes passed, she eased, shoulders softening, laughter spilling freer. She adjusted her sunglasses, the slow tilt of her head catching the light, and every so often she glanced at Phil—quick, searching looks that lingered a beat too long. Was she sizing him up? The thought hit me like a spark, searing through my gut, thrilling and dangerous. My cock twitched, and I shifted my stance by the barbecue, angling my body to hide the growing ache. No way was I letting them see how much this was unraveling me.

Phil stood beside me at the barbecue, turning the burgers with forced focus. His movements were tight, deliberate, like he was fighting to keep his eyes on the grill. But he couldn’t, not completely—small, stolen glances at Lou, quick flicks that never reached his eyes before darting away. My chest tightened, the way she caught his gaze looping in my head, her subtle awareness driving me wild.

“Not bad, this, eh?” he said eventually, his voice a little too bright, betraying his nerves.

“Yeah,” I replied, flipping a burger, my own tone tight. “You can’t beat a bit of peace and quiet.” Peace? My mind was a goddamn storm, Lou’s glances and Phil’s restraint stoking a fire that surged through my veins.

He nodded, eyes fixed on the coals. “And sunshine.”

Across the clearing, Lou lifted her bottle, meeting his gaze over the rim. For an instant, her eyes flicked downward, a subtle, deliberate sweep before locking on his again. The move was nothing, a blink, but I saw Phil’s shoulders stiffen, and my pulse spiked. Was she teasing him? Testing us both? The thought twisted in my chest, a raw, aching want that stole my breath. I leaned closer to the grill, my fingers gripping the spatula too tight.

The smell of smoke and sizzling meat curled through the stillness. A bead of sweat rolled down Phil’s temple, and I knew it wasn’t just the grill’s heat. Lou’s eyes, Phil’s glances, the way they danced around each other—it was like watching a fuse burn, and I was caught, wanting it to ignite.

When the burgers were ready, we carried the plates to the small camping table and sat down together. The change in Lou was immediate; she smiled wider, her laughter lighter, her body language open where it had been cautious. But there was still a tremor in her hands, a faint flush on her cheeks that said she wasn’t as bold as she seemed.

“Now that’s more like it,” she said, grinning at us. “Two fine chefs at work.”

Phil laughed, his eyes catching hers for a heartbeat too long. “You’ll change your mind once you taste them.”

She took a bite, closed her eyes, and hummed softly. “Mmm. Nope, that’s perfect.”

The word hung in the air, drawn out, deliberate. Phil’s hand froze mid-reach for his beer, his jaw tightening, and Lou looked away, the edge of a smile playing on her lips. Her glances were braver now, each one a spark that lit something deep in my gut. My heart thudded, their silent exchange vivid in my mind—Phil watching her, Lou knowing he was watching, maybe even wanting it. The thought was unbearable, tormenting, a raw craving I couldn’t shake. Was I sick for wanting this? For imagining her leaning into his gaze, for wanting him to see more? I leaned forward, elbows on the table, to hide the evidence. I didn’t know what this made me, but the pleasure was overwhelming, a relentless tide pulling me into something wild and mysterious. And God, I didn’t want it to stop.

I leaned back in my chair, watching the two of them trade smiles, their eyes meeting with a charge you could almost taste. Lou’s glances grew bolder, her lips curving with quiet confidence; Phil’s were heavy with restrained hunger, each look a spark in the warm air. The sight stirred something deep inside me. It didn’t bother me—it excited me. The connection between them, raw and unguarded, felt like something alive moving through all three of us.

The beers kept flowing, conversation loosening with every sip. Old stories surfaced, laughter spilling easily, and the teasing drifted somewhere between harmless and provocative.

‘Remember that weekend in Wales?’ Phil said, his voice low, his gaze steady on Lou. ‘You two insisted we could camp without a tent.’

Lou laughed, her tone rich, teasing. ‘Hey, that was your idea!’

‘Mine? You’re the one who said we’d “sleep under the stars.”’

‘Romantic, wasn’t it? And actually it was Chris’s idea,’ she said, raising an eyebrow at me, her look half-playful, half-daring.

Phil grinned, his eyes holding hers. ‘Until it rained.’

They both laughed, and I found myself just watching—my wife and my best mate, naked in the gold of the late afternoon, laughter mingling with a quiet heat that shimmered between them. It wasn’t threatening; it was magnetic, natural, like watching chemistry spark in real time.

I leaned forward. ‘We should write a camping guide. How Not to Do It.’

Lou looked at me over the rim of her glass, her smile curling at the edges, a flicker of mischief lighting her eyes. ‘You’d buy it.’

‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘If it had pictures.’

Phil nearly choked on his drink. Lou shot me a look—half warning, half amusement—but there was warmth behind it, a spark that drew us all closer.

‘We could call it “Three Idiots in a Field”,’ Phil said, wiping his mouth, his grin easy now.

‘That’s accurate,’ Lou said. ‘Except you forgot to mention who forgot the kettle and tea bags.’

‘Oi, that was you,’ I said, pointing at her with my bottle.

‘Was not,’ she said, laughing. ‘You packed the car.’

‘And you unpacked it,’ I shot back.

‘Sounds like shared blame to me,’ Phil said, smiling between us.

‘Fine,’ Lou said, mock-dramatic, lifting her drink. ‘We’ll just call it a team failure.’

‘To team failures,’ I said, raising my bottle.

‘To team failures,’ Phil echoed.

‘And to better planning next time,’ Lou added, grinning.

We clinked bottles, the soft sound ringing in the still air. The laughter that followed was softer this time, slower. It held in the air, keeping us in its rhythm.

As the sun dipped lower, the three of us sank into an easy warmth, the kind that comes when the edges blur and time seems to pause. Lou shifted in her chair, tucking one leg beneath her, her voice low and lazy, her eyes drifting between us with languid ease. Phil tried to look out at the horizon, but each time she spoke, his gaze came back to her, drawn like a tide. I didn’t fight it. I let the energy wash through me—the light, the laughter, the slow pull of something unfolding on its own.

Just then, Lou’s gaze dropped for a heartbeat—quick, deliberate, but impossible to mistake. Her eyes flicked to Phil’s cock, a bold, fleeting glance that carried weight, curiosity, and something far more potent beneath it. When her eyes lifted again, a faint flush coloured her cheeks, though there was no trace of apology in her expression. The quiet confidence in that glance, the way she allowed it to linger, sent a rush of heat through me. She’d seen him, really seen him—and she’d wanted to.

The moment was fleeting, but it struck with the force of a match flaring to life. God, the courage of it—the sheer, unfiltered honesty. I could feel it surge through me, that same wild current that had been building all afternoon, pushing boundaries none of us had meant to test.

Lou brushed a strand of hair back from her face, her breathing steady, eyes fixed on the fading light as if nothing had happened. Phil, though, looked rattled—his throat working. The air between them was alive, and the charge of it thudded through my chest in time with my heartbeat.

What was she thinking? What were we all thinking? Whatever it was, it had changed something. The air felt heavier, more alive, yet I didn’t want to break it. I just sat there, caught in the quiet magic of it, and let the feeling take hold.

The beers had done their work, loosening my tongue but not quite dulling the nervous edge humming through me.

I stole a glance at Phil, my lips twitching into a shaky grin, my body buzzing with the thrill of Lou’s earlier look — those sultry, teasing eyes that had my heart racing.

“So, Phil,” I said, my voice lighter than I felt, “now you’ve seen Lou’s breasts in the sunlight… do you really think they’re perfect?”

Lou’s laugh came out sharp and nervous, her eyes flickering with a mix of mischief and unease. She caught a lock of hair and let it coil nervously around her finger, her hand trembling just enough to give her away.

Phil shook his head, his grin tight, almost forced, as his eyes darted away from her.

“Oh no, not this again,” he muttered, his voice barely hiding a nervous quiver.

I chuckled, leaning back in my chair, the cold beer bottle slick in my sweaty palm.

“Mate, come on, don’t tell me you’re still embarrassed.”

Phil’s laugh was thin, his cheeks flushing a deep red as he rubbed the back of his neck, gripping harder than necessary.

“Look, I’ve already said they’re… really nice, okay? Can we drop it?” His voice cracked slightly, his eyes flicking to Lou, then quickly to the ground.

My mind spun at his words — a chaotic swirl of heat and nerves. What more did I want? The way Lou and Phil had been stealing those heated glances — her quick, almost guilty peek at his cock, his hesitant, hungry stares at her body — had my blood pounding.

But now, the air felt heavier, charged with something more than desire. Confusion twisted in my gut — a mix of reckless curiosity and a nagging fear of pushing too far.

Their stolen looks had me worked up, but the thought of taking it further — touching — made my pulse stutter. Could I handle it? Could they?

SNAP.

A twig broke sharply in the trees nearby, followed by the low murmur of muffled voices. The sound cut through the tension like a blade, shattering the moment.

Lou flinched, her body jerking back as her hands flew to cover herself, her eyes wide with fear as she scanned the tree line.

Phil’s eyes searched instantly, his face flushing a deeper red, his breath catching as he pushed back in his chair.

“What was that?” Lou whispered, her voice trembling, her earlier hesitation replaced by raw alarm as she clutched her arms around herself.

Phil stood, his chair scraping loudly, his gaze darting toward the woods.

“Someone out there?” he asked, his voice tight, the earlier heat gone, replaced by a nervous edge that mirrored Lou’s.

“We should have a look,” I said, standing as well, my heart still racing from the moment before — now spiked with a surge of alertness. My hands shook slightly as I set my beer down, the thrill of what almost happened colliding with sudden wariness.

Lou’s gaze snapped to me, her brow furrowing, her eyes still wide with fear.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Her voice was small, almost pleading, her earlier hesitation now a clear undercurrent of panic.

“Yes,” I said firmly. “If someone’s sneaking around, I want to know.”

Lou frowned. “What if it’s some kind of animal?”

Phil let out a shaky chuckle, trying to mask his unease. “What — like a bear?”

I gave him a sarcastic look. “I know the camp is called Bare Woodland, but I don’t think there are actual bears here — especially considering we’re still in England, and Yorkshire at that.”

Phil smirked faintly, though his fingers tightened around the neck of his bottle. Lou’s expression softened a little, though her eyes stayed fixed on the tree line.

Lou whispered, “I have heard there have been big cat sightings around this part of Yorkshire.”

Phil chipped in, “Yeah, I heard that too, on a documentary I watched.”

I looked at them both in disbelief. “You two watch too much crap. If there were big cats around, then surely, with every phone having a camera, and every person carrying one, someone would’ve taken a clear photo proving it by now.”

Phil, half serious, half joking, said, “Well, not if they’re in the buff like us — there’s no pockets to carry your phone.”

I stared at him, completely astonished — though, for a split second, I actually thought about the inconvenience of not having pockets — before snapping back to reality, not sure if he was being serious or not.

“Really?” I asked.

Lou then nervously chimed in, “What if it’s a ghost? Yorkshire is meant to be the most haunted county in England.”

Phil added, “Yeah, I saw a documentary on that too — I think it was Ghost Adventures.”

Lou, a little louder now, glad of the agreement, said, “Yeah, that’s where I saw it.”

I threw up my hands. “For God’s sake, what’s wrong with you two? There are no bears, no big cats, and one hundred percent no bloody ghosts!”

Then there was a sniff — or what sounded like a voice — coming from the woods.

Lou jumped. “Did you hear that?”

Phil scanned the darkness. “Yeah.”

The light was fading fast, and the woods ahead looked completely black.

I swallowed hard. “Let’s go.”

Phil hesitated. “Okay… but you go first.”

I spun to face him and whispered harshly, “Why me?”

Lou chipped in, “Because you’re the one who wants to go and investigate — and besides, you were in the army.”

“That was over fifteen years ago,” I whispered back.

Phil butted in, “Still more experienced than us in scouting.”

I shook my head. “Fine, whatever. Follow me — and be quiet.”

We moved. Lou set her beer down with a trembling hand, her movements quick and jerky, while Phil grabbed his bottle, clutching it like a lifeline.

We walked toward the wood line, the grass cool under our bare feet, the fading sunlight casting long, eerie shadows around us.

The muffled voices had faded, but the air felt charged with a new kind of tension — the unknown lurking just beyond the trees.

Whatever was out there — and whatever was still simmering between us — hung in the balance, waiting to unfold.