Chapter Two - Part Two

By the next evening, things had fallen back into their usual rhythm.

The day itself had passed in a bit of a blur — a mild hangover, that heavy-headed fog that comes from too much wine and too little sleep. Lou had been quiet most of the morning. She’d gone to her mum’s to pick the kids up while I stayed home and tried to tidy up. Every now and then, the smell of last night’s drink would hit me from an empty glass or a damp coaster, and my mind would drift straight back.

The look on Lou’s face.

The sound of her laugh.

The way Phil had looked at her.

It looped in my head, all day.

Lou came back mid-afternoon with the kids — and with Eleanor trailing behind, half-awake from a nap in the car, earbuds still in. At eighteen she mostly kept to herself these days, dark brown hair curtaining her glasses as she mumbled a hello and vanished upstairs. The noise filled the house again — shoes kicked off in the hallway, chatter, cartoons. She made tea, shepherd’s pie from the freezer, ate quietly, then tucked the younger two into bed. Normal. Completely normal. But I could tell she was holding something in, like she didn’t want to look directly at what had happened.

Phil hadn’t called. No text, no message. Not even a joke. It was strange for him — he was the type to send a meme or a daft comment even after a night like that. Maybe he was embarrassed. Maybe we all were.

Still, every time I thought about it, the memory sparked something in me. It wasn’t shame exactly. More a pulse that wouldn’t fade. The sight of Lou teasing him, her voice playful, that wild glint in her eyes — it stayed with me.

By the time the kids were asleep, the house was quiet again. A faint bass hum drifted from upstairs — Eleanor’s music, barely audible through her bedroom door — and the glow from her desk lamp showed under the crack at the floorboards. Lou came into the living room wearing her dressing gown, hair damp from the shower. She looked fresh, soft, normal. You’d never have guessed what she’d done twenty-four hours ago.

I was on the sofa, flicking through the channels, though I wasn’t really watching. My mind was elsewhere — half on her, half on the thought that had been sitting in me all day. Nude camping. The ridiculous idea that had come out of Phil’s mouth like a joke but had stuck in mine like a spark.

Lou dropped beside me with a sigh. “What’s on?”

“Not much,” I said, passing her the remote. “Some film or other.”

She tucked her legs under her, curling up beside me. “My head’s still fuzzy. You’d think I was twenty again the way that wine hit me.”

I smiled faintly. “Yeah. Same here.”

A pause stretched between us. Just the soft buzz of the TV and the hum of the fridge in the kitchen.

I wanted to say something. About last night. About how she’d looked. About how alive she’d seemed. But the words caught in my throat.

Instead, I leaned back, arm resting along the back of the sofa, and said quietly, “So, what are we watching?”

She glanced at me, her lips twitching with a half-smile. “Something light. No more drama.”

“Fair enough,” I said, though my thoughts were anything but light.

As she scrolled through the options, I stole another look at her — the loose fall of her hair, the faint pink still in her cheeks, the way her gown slipped a little at the collar.

I still couldn’t shake it.

Not the image of her standing there, teasing him.

Not the thrill in her eyes when she realised we were both watching.

And I knew, before the night was over, I was going to find a way to bring it up.

The film played for a while — some forgettable comedy we’d both half-watched before. Lou laughed in places, though her eyes looked tired. Mine kept drifting.

About halfway through, my phone buzzed on the coffee table. I reached for it and saw Phil’s name flash on the screen.

Phil: Still up for camping next weekend? I’ll bring the beers.

I smiled to myself. Lou glanced over. “Phil?”

“Yeah,” I said. “He’s alive.”

She chuckled softly. “I was beginning to think he’d gone into hiding after last night.”

I tapped out a quick reply — Definitely. We’ll sort details tomorrow. — then set the phone aside. But the message stuck with me.

For a few minutes, I listened to Lou’s breathing, slow and calm. I thought about saying nothing, just letting it all slide away, but the words were building in me, pressing to get out.

I gave a quiet laugh and said, “You know, we should do something a bit different for this trip.”

Lou turned her head, curious. “Oh? Like what?”

I hesitated, then shrugged casually. “I don’t know. Something… free. No stress. Just us and Phil and nature.”

She smirked. “You make it sound like a retreat.”

“Kind of,” I said, grinning faintly. “What if we went full nature?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Define full.”

I tried not to laugh. “Like… no clothes. Proper back-to-basics. Nude camping.”

Her head snapped toward me. “You what?”

I held up my hands. “I’m just saying — you wanted something different. That’d be different.”

Lou burst out laughing, pressing a hand to her mouth. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Probably,” I said, smiling. “But imagine it. No phones, no work, no noise. Just the three of us. Sun on your skin. Feels good even thinking about it.”

She was still laughing, shaking her head. “Me and you and Phil? Naked? You’ve lost it.”

Her words painted the image too clearly in my mind. I tried to brush it off, to keep my voice steady. “Yeah. Mad, isn’t it?”

She caught my look, her laughter slowing. “You’re not serious, are you?”

I shrugged, playing it down. “Not really. Just… might be fun, that’s all. Bit of freedom.”

Lou arched an eyebrow. “Freedom meaning ‘without clothes’?”

I grinned. “Maybe. Could be a laugh.”

“Chris!” she said, swatting my arm, though she was laughing again.

I laughed too, but inside, the heat stirred again. I could see it in her face — the way her laughter lingered a bit too long, the way she looked at me, testing how serious I was.

“You’re terrible,” she said, finally settling back into the sofa. “Don’t even mention that to Phil.”

“I won’t,” I said. “Promise. He was the one who mentioned it last night anyway — as a joke, remember?”

Lou gave a small nod, her lips twitching. “Yeah… and it was just that. A joke.”

“I know,” I said, my voice quieter now. “It’s just… maybe something worth thinking about. Doesn’t have to mean anything. Just… freedom, that’s all.”

Lou looked at me for a long moment, the faint smile fading into something harder to read. Then she shook her head lightly, almost amused. “You and your ideas. You’d strip off at the drop of a hat if someone let you.”

I laughed softly, though my pulse had started to beat a little faster. “You wouldn’t?”

She smiled again — small, knowing. “Maybe in another lifetime. But not with Phil there.”

I grinned. “Not even a little curious? He’s already had an eyeful anyway.”

Lou gasped, half laughing, half scolding. “Chris!” she said, swatting my leg. “You’re impossible.”

I chuckled, hands raised in mock defence. “Just saying, the damage is done.”

She rolled her eyes, trying to hide her blush. “Go make a brew before you start getting ideas.”

I chuckled again and got up, but as I passed behind the sofa, I caught her still looking at me, that faint glimmer in her eyes — half amusement, half something else.

In the kitchen, the light felt harsher than the soft glow of the living room. The kettle clicked on, humming low. I leaned against the counter, arms folded, waiting for it to boil.

The laughter from a few minutes ago still echoed faintly in my ears. Lou’s laugh. That little gasp when I’d mentioned Phil. The way her cheeks had flushed.

I smiled to myself, shaking my head. “An eyeful,” I muttered under my breath. Hell, what was I thinking?

The kettle clicked off. I poured the water, watched the swirl of steam rise.

Behind me, the floor creaked — Lou must’ve moved on the sofa, maybe listening to the clink of mugs. I wondered if she was thinking the same thing I was. Probably not. She’d laugh it off, called it madness, and that’d be that. But I’d seen something in her eyes. A spark. Like part of her had enjoyed it more than she wanted to admit.

I stirred the tea slowly, the spoon tapping against the rim.

Phil had seen her naked — even if only for a heartbeat. And instead of anger, all I felt was this strange, burning curiosity. About her, about him, about how easily that small accident had changed the way I saw everything.

I sighed, set the spoon down, and carried the mugs back through.

Lou was curled deeper into the sofa, eyes half-closed. She smiled when I handed her the tea. “Took you long enough.”

“Just thinking,” I said.

“About what?” she asked sleepily.

I hesitated, then smiled faintly. “About camping.”

She gave a soft hum, already half-gone with tiredness. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

I sat beside her, watching her eyelids flutter, and thought, yeah — tomorrow.

But I already knew that I wouldn’t be able to get it out of my head all night.

Morning light crept through the blinds, pale and cold. My head felt clearer than it had in days, though my mind hadn’t stopped racing all night. Every time I’d closed my eyes, I saw flashes of Lou — her laughter, her blush, that spark when I’d teased her.

The house was still. Lou was asleep beside me, her hair spilling across the pillow. I lay there for a moment, just watching her, that warm ache stirring in my chest again. Then my phone buzzed on the bedside table.

Phil: Morning mate. Am I good to come round tonight to chat about the camping trip?

I stared at the screen for a second, the ghost of a grin tugging at my mouth. Then I typed back.

Me: Yeah, definitely. I was thinking though… what if we made it a bit different this time?

Phil: Don’t say karaoke camping, we’ve done that to death. It’s not different.

I smirked, thumbs moving before my head could catch up.

Me: Mate, I really think we should consider the nude camping idea. Look, I knew you were joking, and yeah, it was unfair when we teased you the other night, but you’ve got to admit, it was fucking hilarious. We’ve done just about everything else crazy together. Just think — when the time comes to strip, we’ll be sat there as giddy as teens, like the first time clubbing, or going abroad without our parents. I reckon it’d do us all good.

A long pause followed. I imagined Phil blinking at his phone, brow furrowed, maybe laughing under his breath. Then came the reply.

Phil: You’re off your head, mate.

Me: Probably. But tell me you’re not even a little curious?

Another pause. Then:

Phil: …I didn’t say that. I’ll think about it. We’ll chat later. I’m coming round after work anyway.

Me: Sounds good. You driving?

Phil: Nah, I’ll grab a taxi. Think I’ll need a couple of beers for this conversation. Don’t worry, not a mad one.

Me: Sure. Sounds good. We can’t have a mad one anyway — kids are back and it’s a school night. But there’s plenty of beer in the fridge for us to get a little merry. See you tonight.

I set the phone down, smiling to myself. The idea had landed — not fully, but enough.

I rolled onto my side, brushing a strand of hair from Lou’s face. “Morning, love,” I whispered.

She stirred, murmuring something into the pillow.

“Go back to sleep,” I said softly, leaning in to kiss her shoulder before slipping out of bed.

As I got dressed for work, a quiet excitement buzzed under my skin. The day ahead didn’t matter much — my thoughts were already on tonight. On Phil’s face when we talked. On how Lou might react if the idea came up again.

And on the strange feeling that something was shifting between us all — something I couldn’t quite name, but couldn’t stop wanting to explore.

The doorbell went just after eight. I heard the familiar thud of Phil’s boots on the step before Lou called, “Come in!”

He stepped inside, shaking the drizzle from his jacket. The kids appeared instantly — Ellie clinging to his arm, Josh peering round the corner grinning.

“Uncle Phil!” Ellie said.

Phil ruffled her hair. “You two still up? I thought bedtime was hours ago.”

Lou, smiling, folded her arms. “Exactly what I was about to say. You two should’ve been in bed half an hour ago.”

Phil winked. “I’ll do it. Duties of a godfather.”

“Good luck,” Lou laughed, as the kids dragged him upstairs. For a moment, she watched Phil go with a thoughtful expression, something unreadable flickering behind her smile.

They heard the thumps and squeals above, Phil wrestling and trying to convince them to get in bed and go to sleep.

I handed Lou her beer and sat opposite her on the sofa.

She looked relaxed, the day’s weariness soft on her face. I hesitated, then said quietly, “I brought something up with Phil this morning.”

She looked over sharply. “What did you do?”

“The nude camping thing,” I said quickly.

Her eyebrows shot up. “Chris, you promised you wouldn’t.”

“I know,” I said, “and I’m sorry. But I really do think it could be good for us.”

“How?” she asked, frowning.

I exhaled, searching for the right words. “Look, I know you’ve been down, love. I don’t claim to know why. But for me, you’re beautiful. Always have been. You saw Phil on Saturday night — even he confirmed it. Look, it can’t hurt, right? Just something different. A laugh.”

Lou’s expression softened, her frown easing into something more uncertain. “You actually think that’d help?”

I shrugged, smiling a little. “Maybe not fix everything, but… shake things up. Remind us we’re still us.”

Footsteps came on the stairs, and Phil reappeared, brushing his hands together. “Both in bed. Threat of confiscating their iPads worked wonders.”

I stood and passed him a beer. “Good man.”

He grinned, popping the cap with his thumb. “So, about the camping trip then…”

I leaned back into the sofa, exchanging a look with Lou, who gave a tiny shake of her head that said you started this, you explain it.

“Yeah,” I said slowly, cracking my own bottle open. “Just thinking we could do something a bit different this time. Out of the comfort zone, you know?”

Phil smirked, leaning forward slightly. “You mean that thing you texted me about?”

Lou shot me a look, then said lightly, “Chris tells me you two have been talking about the camping trip.”

Phil smiled, lifting a brow. “We have.”

Lou folded her arms. “And I hear there’s a theme now.”

Phil blinked, suddenly blushing. His face gave a quick flicker of colour, and I noticed—just for a second—the way he looked at her. A glance that lingered half a heartbeat too long. Admiration? Attraction? I couldn’t quite tell.

He rubbed his neck. “Look, I was only joking.”

I chipped in quickly. “Okay, but hear me out. It’s a bit of freedom. Bit of a shake-up. No pressure. If it’s weird, we don’t do it. Simple. We’re all adults and have known each other for years. So here’s the deal—if one of us starts to feel uncomfortable or not wanting to go through with it, just say stop. We pack up, get pissed, and laugh it off. Simple.”

Phil rubbed his jaw, still smiling. “You two are mad. But… I get it. Different is good.”

He shifted in his seat, glancing down for a second before adding, quieter, “Still makes me nervous as hell, though. You’ve no idea.”

Lou looked between us, weighing it up. She seemed slightly pleased that Phil wasn’t flat-out refusing. The heat in my chest rose. Is this happening? I thought. I hoped it was.

“I’m not parading about naked at a busy campsite,” she said.

I smiled faintly, but I caught something in her eyes — a flicker of thought she didn’t voice. Maybe part of her wondered what it would feel like, the air on her skin, the thrill of doing something wild again. For me, for us — or maybe just for herself.

“Agreed,” I said quickly. “No crowds. Private pitch if we can get one. We can just try it for ten minutes, see how it goes. Clothes within reach, if needed and an abort word if anyone hates it.”

Phil chuckled. “Abort word? What are we, spies?”

“If you like,” I said with amusement, “pick a word then.”

He glanced at Lou. “Tea.”

Lou snorted with a smile. “Fine. ‘Tea’ means we stop.”

She leaned back, thinking. “Ground rules. Separate tents. No photos. No daft dares. If I say I’ve had enough, that’s it.”

“Done,” I said.

Phil nodded. “Same here.”

Then, another glance between them—quick, but telling. Their eyes met and darted away again, both of them suddenly awkward, like they’d crossed some invisible line neither expected to. The tension made my stomach twist. I didn’t know why, but it was getting me hot.

Lou took a sip of beer, eyes flicking back to me. “And if we don’t get a private spot?”

“Then we don’t do it,” I said. “We just camp. Still a good weekend.”

Phil pointed his bottle at me. “Weather’s a factor. If it’s freezing, I’m keeping my kit on.”

We all laughed at that.

“We’re not idiots,” Lou said, laughing too. “We’ll use our heads.”

Just then, footsteps sounded on the stairs. Eleanor appeared in the doorway, pyjamas on, glasses slightly askew.

“Mum, can you not laugh so loud? I’ve got my headphones in but I can still hear you,” she said sleepily, clutching a glass of water.

Lou smiled. “Sorry, love. We’ll keep it down.”

Eleanor nodded, gave a polite smile to Phil and me, then padded back upstairs. The floor creaked again as her door clicked shut.

I exhaled quietly. “Man, that was a close one,” I muttered.

Phil snorted, shaking his head. “Imagine trying to explain that conversation.”

Lou laughed under her breath. “Exactly why we keep this between us.”

The moment passed, but the near-miss left a charge in the air — a tiny thrill of secrecy that made the whole thing feel even more daring.

There was a pause—not awkward exactly, just quiet, thoughtful.

Phil cleared his throat. “So the plan is… normal camping with an optional stupid bit.”

“Optional, not stupid,” I said, grinning. “We try it only if it feels right.”

Lou watched us both, then gave a bashful smile and a small nod. “Alright. Optional. If it feels right.”

My chest loosened. It’s finally happening, I thought, shifting slightly to hide how excited I was.

“We’ll bring big towels. Robes. Torch. Pick a pitch at the edge if we can.”

Phil lifted his bottle. “And beer. For courage.”

Lou shook her head, still smiling. “Not too much. I want my wits about me.”

We all laughed again.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I know you’re the only female out of the three of us, but also the bravest. It’s me and Phil who’ll have to keep our wits.”

We chuckled again, and Lou said, “Whatever,” taking another drink and sneaking another sly glance at Phil.

“Friday after work?” I asked. “I’ll do the food shop. You—” I nodded at Phil “—sort the beer, and could you bring your barbecue?”

“Done,” he said.

Lou set her bottle down. “I’ll sort bedding for the tents. Don’t worry about sleeping bags, Phil—Chris overdid it with the new tents. They’re like mini houses. We can fit raised blow-up double mattresses in both of them.” She gave me a mock-disapproving glance. “Which Chris has also bought. I’ll make it comfy for you.”

Phil grinned. “I’ll take luxury.”

“So it’s settled then,” I said—probably too eagerly.

Lou and Phil both agreed, sharing another quick, curious glance. Something unspoken flickered there again. What was that? I wondered. Though deep down, I already knew what I wanted it to mean.

We all stood.

We clinked bottles—soft, not showy.

Lou met my eyes over the rims. “We keep talking, yeah? If at any point it feels wrong…”

“We say ‘tea,’” I finished.

Phil saluted with his bottle. “Tea.”

We settled back into our seats, the telly still murmuring in the background.

I felt satisfied. We’d made plans—but nothing heavy. And maybe, just maybe, there was a line ahead we might cross if it felt right.

I stood up and collected our empty bottles.

“One more drink?” I asked.

“Sure, I’ll have one more,” Phil said.

“Yeah, go on then,” Lou added.

“Okay,” I replied, and with that I entered the kitchen to grab more beers.

While I was in the kitchen, putting the empties in the recycle container and grabbing more beers, I couldn’t help hearing Lou and Phil talking in the living room. I paused a moment, intrigued.

Their voices carried faintly over the low hum of the fridge.

Lou laughed. “He’s in a good mood tonight.”

Phil chuckled. “Yeah. Guess he’s excited about this whole camping thing.”

“Excited’s one word for it,” Lou said. “He’s got these daft ideas sometimes.”

“Like the nude camping? To be fair, I put the idea into his head on Saturday night,” Phil said, his tone half-teasing.

Lou laughed again, softer now. “Well, you’re both mad.”

“I don’t know how you can call me mad,” Phil said after a pause. “You were the one who flashed at me.”

Silence followed. I stood frozen, one hand gripping the fridge handle. My chest tightened.

Finally Lou said, a little lower, “Yeah, well, you didn’t look away either.”

Phil gave a quick laugh. “Should I have? You were teasing the hell out of me.”

That word — teasing — hit me in the gut. I took a slow breath, trying to steady it.

Lou’s voice changed, lighter but edged with something else. “That depends. Did you like what you saw?”

My pulse thudded hard in my ears. I could almost see the look passing between them.

Phil hesitated. Then, quietly, “Yeah. I really did. I always thought you were beautiful, Louise. But it’s just a crush. I’d never act on it, and Chris doesn’t know. Please… can we keep that between us?”

My chest tightened, breath shallow. I gripped the counter to steady myself, trying to ignore the pulse that had started to throb low and heavy. What the hell was wrong with me?

Was it Lou — her voice, her power — or the fact it was Phil she was teasing? The line between jealousy and arousal blurred until I couldn’t tell which side I was on.

Lou’s voice followed, soft and calm. “Yes, of course we can keep that between us. And don’t be sorry, Phil. You’re a good guy, and it did flatter me—what you said, the way you looked at me. It felt… nice.”

Another pause. The kind that hums with unspoken things.

Phil spoke again, his voice more serious. “Lou, can I be honest about the nude camping thing?”

She said softly, “Sure. You know we can call it off if you want.”

“It’s not really that,” Phil said after a pause. “It’s just…” He gave a short, nervous laugh. “Well, it’s seeing you. You know—naked. And… how can I say it?” Another pause. “How I might react. Physically, I mean.”

God, I was ready to burst. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

Lou gave a small, embarrassed laugh. “Oh God, Phil, what are you like? Well, I suggest you think of something else if that happens. Though honestly, if you did get a hard-on, it’d serve Chris right for pushing the idea. He’d probably be more embarrassed than you.”

They both giggled.

Phil said, still sounding uneasy, “Yeah, that’s fair. Okay, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Forget I said anything.”

Lou replied, “Done. We won’t talk about it again.”

“Agreed,” Phil said quietly.

There was a short silence, then Lou spoke again. Her voice softened. “You know, I love Chris with all my heart. I’d never do anything behind his back.”

Phil butted in quickly. “No, Lou. That would never be my intention.”

Lou stopped him gently. “No, that’s not what I mean. I don’t know… I’ve been a cow lately, I know that. And Chris seems a little excited about all this nude stuff. In fact, when you left on Saturday, we had the best sex we’ve had in years. I think he secretly likes showing me off—and to be honest, I love him even more for it. I’ve only agreed to the nude camping because I know he’s going to be there, you know?”

Phil’s voice came back, quieter. “I understand. You don’t have to explain.”

Lou laughed lightly. “Still, at least I’ll get to see you in the buff for a change.”

They both chuckled again.

The voices in the living room curled around each other, intimate and heavy, each word sinking into me like a slow burn. My pulse quickened, a flush creeping up my neck as their closeness stirred something primal deep in my core. My body betrayed me, a tight heat pooling low in my gut, my cock stirring against the rough denim of my jeans. I shifted my weight, willing the growing hardness to subside, but every hushed syllable from the next room only made it worse—throbbing, insistent, impossible to ignore.

I gripped the cold bottles of beer in my hands, the chill grounding me for a moment as I forced a slow, deliberate breath. My skin prickled with electric heat, every nerve alight, and I adjusted my stance, angling my hips to ease the pressure against the tight fabric. The bulge was unmistakable now, straining against the zipper, and I cursed under my breath. I tugged at the hem of my shirt, pulling it lower in a futile attempt to mask the evidence of my arousal.

With careful steps, I moved toward the living room, each stride deliberate to avoid drawing attention to the way my jeans clung too tightly now. My gait was stiff, my thighs brushing together, sending jolts of sensation that only worsened the ache. I paused at the threshold, leaning slightly against the wall, one leg bent to obscure the telltale swell. My face burned, but I schooled my expression into something neutral—calm, detached—like my body wasn’t screaming with want. Holding the beers out like a shield, I stepped into the room, every muscle taut with the effort to keep my desire hidden.

“You took your time, love,” Lou said. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” I said quickly, forcing my voice to stay even. “Just a work thing I need to sort. Bit of a mix-up with one of the lads. I’ll send a few emails upstairs. Won’t take long. Why don’t you two look up some campsites?”

She nodded. “Alright, love. Don’t be long.”

I handed them each a beer and stepped back. Phil gave a faint grin of thanks. Lou met my eyes a second too long, searching, maybe wondering what I’d heard.

I smiled, held her gaze, then turned and climbed the stairs. My heart was still hammering, the echo of their voices chasing me up each step.

Behind the door of our bedroom, the quiet felt strange—thick, restless. I sat on the edge of the bed, bottle still in my hand, and let the noise in my head spin itself out. I didn’t know whether to be angry, jealous, or something else entirely.

Downstairs, I heard them talking again. Softer now. Closer.

I took a long breath and stared at the dark window. The night outside looked wide and endless. The thought came before I could stop it—

What if I’d never gone to the kitchen?

I closed the bedroom door behind me, the soft click cutting through the hum of their voices downstairs. My heart still pounded, a relentless drumbeat in my chest, and the heat that had sparked in the kitchen hadn’t faded—it had only grown, coiling tighter in my gut. I set the beer on the nightstand, untouched, and sank onto the edge of the bed, my hands trembling slightly as I ran them through my hair.

The words I’d overheard looped in my mind, each one sharper than the last. “Yeah, I really did. I always thought you were beautiful, Louise.” Phil’s voice, low and earnest, confessing his crush. Lou’s soft laugh, the way she’d admitted it felt nice. And then her words, the ones that hit hardest: “We had the best sex we’ve had in years. I think he secretly likes showing me off.”

My breath hitched, and I shifted on the bed, the denim of my jeans pulling tight again. The ache was back, insistent, my cock already half-hard from the memory alone. I leaned back, letting my head rest against the headboard, and closed my eyes. The images came unbidden—Lou standing in the glow of Saturday night’s lamplight, her skin bare, that teasing glint in her eyes as she caught Phil staring. The way her laugh had sounded downstairs, soft and knowing, like she’d enjoyed the power of it. And Phil—his hesitation, his admission, the way he’d looked at her tonight, quick and guilty, like he couldn’t help himself.

My hand moved before I could think, fingers brushing over the bulge in my jeans. A low groan escaped me as I pressed down, the pressure sending a jolt through my body. I undid the button, the zipper rasping in the quiet room, and shoved the denim down just enough to free myself. My cock sprang up, hard and heavy, the skin flushed and sensitive. I wrapped my hand around it, slow at first, testing the weight of my arousal, and let the images flood back.

I pictured Lou again, but this time it wasn’t just Saturday night. It was the campsite we’d planned, the three of us alone under the open sky. Lou, her skin golden in the sunlight, stepping out of her tent with that same bold, teasing smile. Phil’s eyes on her, hungry, his body betraying him the way he’d feared—“How I might react. Physically, I mean.” I imagined her catching it, that small, amused curve of her lips as she noticed, not shying away but leaning into it, her voice light as she teased him. And me, watching it all, the heat in my chest not jealousy but something hotter, something that made my grip tighten now, my strokes quickening.

My breath came faster, ragged. I could almost hear her voice again, the way she’d said, “I love him even more for it.” The thought that she knew—that she’d seen how much it turned me on—sent a shiver down my spine. My thumb brushed over the tip, slick now, and I bit my lip to stifle a moan. The bed creaked faintly under me as my hips shifted, chasing the rhythm of my hand.

In my mind, the scene shifted. Lou’s laugh, her body moving closer to Phil, not touching but close enough to feel the tension. Me, standing nearby, my own desire mirrored in the way Phil’s eyes darkened, the way Lou’s breath caught. The word tea lingered in the air, unspoken, a safety net we might never need. My strokes grew harder, faster, the heat building low and tight. I imagined her looking at me, that knowing smile, like she could see right through to this moment, to me alone in our bedroom, unraveling at the thought of her.

A low curse slipped out as the pressure crested. My head tipped back, eyes squeezed shut, and the release hit hard, pulsing through me in waves. My hand slowed, my chest heaving as I caught my breath, the room coming back into focus—the faint hum of the TV downstairs, the distant murmur of Lou and Phil’s voices.

For a moment, guilt brushed against the edge of the pleasure — a thin, unwelcome thread. I’d never felt so alive, or so uncertain about what that meant.

I sat there for a moment, still trembling, the weight of what I’d done settling over me. Not guilt, exactly, but something close—a raw, unsteady feeling, like I’d crossed a line in my own head. I cleaned up quickly, tucking myself back into my jeans, and grabbed the beer, taking a long pull to steady my nerves.

Their voices drifted up again, softer now, laughing about something mundane. I stood, smoothing a hand over my shirt, and glanced at the mirror. My face was flushed, eyes too bright, but I could pass it off as the beer, the late hour. I’d go back downstairs, act normal, like I hadn’t just come undone thinking about my wife and my best mate in ways I couldn’t quite explain.

But as I opened the door, the thought lingered, sharp and undeniable: I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop imagining it. Not yet.

I took a long breath, straightened my shirt, and went back downstairs. The air felt cooler now, calmer, though my pulse hadn’t quite settled.

Phil was sitting next to Lou on the sofa, the laptop balanced between them. Their shoulders brushed as they leaned in over the screen, talking quietly.

Lou looked up first. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, all sorted,” I said, managing a smile. My eyes flicked to the small space between them — or rather, the lack of it.

Phil turned the laptop toward me. “What do you think of this?”

I stepped closer, perching on the armchair beside them.

On the screen was a photo of a wide green clearing surrounded by trees, sunlight spilling across a fresh stretch of field. From above, the woods curved gently around the edges, giving the place a quiet, secret feel. The description underneath read:

Large open space. Nude camping optional, although we encourage our guests to try it out. Plenty of room for privacy. Spacious pitching areas for tents. On-site bar, pool, and tennis courts. Friendly, relaxed atmosphere.

It was like the words had been written for us.

“This looks perfect,” I said, glancing between them. “Shall I book it?”

Lou’s lips parted in a small, hesitant smile. Phil caught her look and grinned, that same spark of mischief flickering between them before they both turned to me.

“Okay,” Lou said softly. “Do it.”

“Yeah, go for it,” Phil added.

I booked the pitch — a private area, tucked at the far edge of the site. The screen flashed, confirming the reservation.

“It’s done,” I said quietly, leaning back. “No backing out now.”

Phil raised his beer with a crooked grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Lou laughed — light, genuine, but with a nervous edge that made my stomach twist again. I smiled too, though my thoughts lingered on the image of the field, the sunlight, and the three of us there, stripped bare beneath it all.

Whatever line we were walking, we’d just taken a step closer.