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Camp life wasn't glamorous. There were no cotton-stuffed mattresses, polished silverware, or gourmet foods. It was all dirt and thin bedrolls and working through the humid, summer heat on ceaseless daily chores. It wasn’t all bad, though, and it was far superior to the turmoil of living on the streets of Saint Denis. You certainly hadn’t lived a posh enough lifestyle beforehand to have too much to complain about. Living on the move had developed a humble sort of charm to it over time, and the rag-tag group of criminals had quickly become a family to you. Truly, you did love (most of) your campmates. They'd taken you in, fed you, and clothed you when no one else would. They were kind and, even with their flaws, they remained a much better family than the one you’d been born into.
Sometimes you just needed some alone time, though, and privacy was a prize you had yet to win. Some of the folks in camp had their own personal tents. They were only a flimsy barrier from the outside, but it was better than the open air for some, certain activities. Occasionally you'd overhear one of them enjoying some personal time, huffs of breath and poorly hidden grunts filtering through the fabric, and you envied them.
You were bunked in one of the communal, open-air tents. No barriers, however flimsy, to protect you from wandering eyes. You'd tried once or twice to slip a hand down when everyone was asleep. You had readied yourself, worked yourself up in anticipation, but it only took one stir from a neighbor for the mood to be surrendered to the fear of being caught.
It had been ages now since your last successful orgasm and you could feel it driving you up the wall. You were irritated, snapping at friends and losing patience with things that would otherwise be mild annoyances. You were finding yourself looking twice at people you'd never ordinarily consider for a partner. Hell, even Micah's raunchy comments were starting to get filthy thoughts going and that was definitely a bad sign.
Tonight, though, you were determined to get there. You were going to sneak out of camp and make your own privacy, damn the consequences of a sleepless night on tomorrow’s day.
It felt like hours of fighting sleep had crawled by until you were certain everyone was sleeping soundly. The quiet of the night serving as confirmation, you grabbed your blanket, folded and ready, before making your way through the camp.
The moonlit your steps, fires reduced to a pile of orange, glowing coals now. Every touch of feet on firm dirt sounded deafening to your nerves as you tiptoed towards the tree line. You’d already picked out the spot several days before. It was somewhat isolated; the guard routes never edged out this direction, but it wasn’t far enough out to be dangerous.
Your muscles held tense, nerves shaky as you finally reached your destination. Boring grass and trees had never looked so beautiful. Fluffing out the blanket over a grassy area and crawling on top, you tried your best to relax into the moment. You were going to make this work, dammit. You leaned your back against a tree, slipping your undergarments off and bunching the thin nightdress above your hips.
The first touch had you huffing out a sigh, toes twitching in relief. You were already soaked after waiting and watching so long from your cot. Wetness coated your curls, hot and slick. You started out languidly, pressing softly around your entrance, tracing over your labia and barely brushing a finger over your clit.
You thought of your campmates, of Arthur's strong arms and magnanimous morals. He was always harsh on himself and you imagined he would be more apprehensive than he looked, easily drunk on kisses and soft, roaming touches. He would be dedicated, protective and probably bend to your will during a coupling more than he'd like to admit. He could certainly play tough guy, but you weren’t sold.
You thought of Charles' sweet smiles and determined kindness. He would be patient and loving, full of kisses and sweet words and maybe promises of forever. He would be receptive to your body, paying attention to every twitch and whimper, honing in on how to make your head spin, and making sure to follow through.
You thought of Dutch, of his easy speech and effortless dominance over a room, of flurries of grand romantic gestures and recitations of poetry. He would have you kneeling, lips full of him as his fingers caressed your hair, whispering praises, verbose and loose-lipped as he soaked in the pleasure of you.
You thought of Micah, of his smirks and smarmy laughs, of his crude flirting. He would not be kind or patient and he certainly would not read you poetry. He would be selfish, arrogant, rough, and full of cruel and mocking words at your expense.
Heat coiled in your belly at the idea in a way it hadn't for the other men and you scolded yourself for it. You should not be attracted to this man. Micah was grimey and unkind and none of the things you wanted in a partner.
You pressed two fingers into yourself, determined to think of anyone but him. You were not going to cum thinking of Micah.
You thought of Arthur again, of how his edges would unfold into softness at your touch, how he would press his lips against yours in reverence, the way his hips would feel pressed firmly against yours, the way his eyes would fall heavy with lust as he watched himself fill you with each thrust, how he would worship every inch of you.
Every thought was punctuated by the image of how different Micah would be. How his edges would hold strong at your touch, the way he would kiss you like he was taking each one from you, how he would touch you like you belonged to him, and you gave up the attempt at redirection. This was clearly a perverse manifestation of sexual frustration, you decided. All you had to do was get yourself off with these thoughts and then they’d be gone. Problem solved. You let your mind go, allowing it to produce whatever profane thoughts it desired.
You thought of how he teased you, how he relished every indignant reaction he pulled from you, how he would certainly mock you with his cock deep inside you too. You thought of his calloused fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, wrapping around the threads of your hair as he fucked into you with sharp twitches of his hips, of how he would hiss out obscenities and those tawdry pet names he liked to use.
You brought your fingers back to your clit, breathing out a curse. You were right there, tense and teetering on the edge of that magnificent, long-awaited cliff. You swiped your fingers back and forth, breaths coming out ragged and desperate before seizing in your lungs as it hit you. Endorphins rushed through your veins with an explosion of pleasure and a breathy whimper of Micah's name.
Fucking finally. You silently thanked God and all that was holy, letting yourself fall back against the tree, body limp and sticky with sweat in the summer air.
A rustling in the brush threw you headfirst into alarm, breaking your pleasure-addled trance like a dose of freezing water. Panic coiled in your gut and collected heavy in your throat as you waited, silent, and fully attentive. You would never live this down if someone found you like this.
It was quiet now, only the frantic beating of blood through veins pounding against your ears. Maybe it was a rat? An opossum? Some other nocturnal animal hunting for scraps, just living its life? Maybe it was nothing at all. A trick of the wind, amplified by anxiety. You waited still.
A smarmy laugh and a familiar voice broke the silence. "You havin' fun out here, darlin'? Whimperin' my name all pretty like that?"
Fucking fuck. God dammit shit fuck.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear.
"Micah?!" you hissed, wrestling your skirt down. Heat pooled on your face and your head swam, the confirmation of justified panic running over you as an echoed chill. It was a nocturnal animal alright, a rat too, but certainly not the kind you were hoping for. "Jesus Christ, Micah! What the hell are you even doin' out here?" you growled.
He took a step closer to you, moonlight cutting sharp shadows into his smug face as he looked over your flustered, still-breathless form. You imagined him waiting after shifting the brush, just loving your terror and anger rose in your gut. "Came out here to take a leak. Imagine my surprise when I find you out here in the sticks, squirmin' and soakin' wet just for me."
"I wasn't—” you started.
Micah cut you off. "Been here watchin' long enough, girl. I know what I heard." You scowled. He clicked his tongue, shifting his tone. "Y’know, you didn't have to come out here and do this all alone. I'm more'n happy to help you out. I am a gentleman after all."
"Oh, bullshit, Micah," you spat. "You ain't never been no goddamn gentleman."
He laughed loudly at that. "Yeah, maybe not, but you didn't seem to mind that much when you were comin' around your fingers for me just a minute ago, darlin'." He palmed at his bulging cock, twitching up an eyebrow with a smirk when he noticed your gaze shift. "Y'know, as pretty as that lil' whimper you gave me earlier was, I bet I can get you screamin' for me."
Your belly swooped low at the thought and you cursed yourself. Your orgasm earlier was supposed to fix the inclination to fuck this rat, not fuel it.
He took a step closer. "C'mon, darlin', let me repay you for that show."
Well, if he puts it that way, he did more than owe you at this point. It seemed you were keen on playing mind games with yourself tonight and it was as good of an excuse as any.
"Repay me then," you growled, tugging your skirt back up harshly and letting your legs fall unceremoniously to the side. Micah was quiet, breathless, for a moment before letting out a heavy groan, coming to his knees to meet your height.
"You better keep your damn word on makin' this good, Micah," you muttered, struggling to meet his eyes as he moved closer.
"Oh, I promise, honey," he smirked. "You ain't never gonna want a gentleman after me."
His palms splayed over your thighs, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin as he took the sight of you in. His eyes were heavy with lust when he met your gaze again. "God damn, you're a sight." He moved to brush his fingers over your core before bringing your wetness to his lips. He breathed in the scent of them greedily before sucking them off, growling, and immediately returning them to dive two inside of you. They were thicker than yours and you savored the feeling as his rough fingers dragged and pulled against your walls. "Saw you got one already but you ain't done yet are you? I bet you got more in you."
You nodded, head already swimming.
"Fuck yeah, you do, darlin'," he said, starting to pump his fingers into you with more rhythm. It was embarrassing how quickly he had you squirming, but, somehow, it still wasn't enough. You needed something more. You needed to feel a stretch, feel your body yielding to him. You wanted him to ruin you.
"Gimme another finger," you breathed.
He laughed. "Eager thing, ain’t you? Ask nicely and I might.” You scowled back at him and he stopped his movement, raising his eyebrows in challenge. "What's it gonna be, sweetheart?" Was your self-respect worth an orgasm?
Dammit. Yeah, it was.
You grit your teeth, avoiding his gaze. "Can you please gimme another finger?" He didn’t move. You glanced at his eyes, silently asking if that was acceptable, before reluctantly adding a softer, “please?”
He started back up then, making no effort to conceal his smirk at your acquiesce. "Not perfect, but that's okay. I'm feelin' generous tonight, and I'm bettin' you won't take long to be beggin' me."
"Arrogant as ever, Micah," you said, words coming out with less bite than planned.
"Hard not to be with this pretty little cunt clampin' down tight 'round my fingers," he said, repositioning his body and giving your clit a single wet kiss. "'Specially with how much harder you're clenchin' every time I run my mouth."
He worked a third finger in with the others, as promised, and you savored the feeling. The wet, slapping noises being made were notably louder now, occasionally evolving into squelches, and you fought the urge to hide your face behind your palms. You settled for squeezing your eyes shut instead, shifting your unoccupied hand down to drag against your clit, circling and working over it. This was good. You felt so fucking good, but why did you still feel like it wasn’t enough?
"You still want another one?" God, did you? Could you handle four of his fingers fucking up into you? You certainly fucking wanted it.
"Please, Micah," you begged, words sounding effortless now. He pushed a fourth into you then and you groaned.
"Greedy little thing, ain't ya? Any more fingers and I'll be fucking my whole hand up in you, darlin'."
Oh fuck. A desperate too-loud whimper wrenched its way out of your lips as you ground yourself against his hand. Was that even possible? Hell if you didn't want him to give it his best shot. You wanted to feel him for days.
Micah laughed, voice edging on mocking. "Shit, you're loving that idea, ain't you? Want me to fuck you with my whole hand, sweetheart?"
"Oh, fuck yes, Micah, please." You pushed your logistical apprehensions away, determined now.
"Fuck," Micah hissed, fingers speeding up. "Fuck, you're a filthy little thing. Would'a never thought with how sweet you look. Had me playin' the fool."
A glob of his saliva fell hard against your clit before dribbling between your lips. Another few fell over his hand as he added all the lubrication he could muster before folding his thumb in to edge against your opening.
Micah's eyes looked wild as he met yours. "Gonna make you so full'a me this cunt ain't never gonna be the same."
He leaned his head back down to kiss at your thighs with a deceiving sweetness. His tongue lifted the fingers you had rubbing your clit into his mouth, sucking them clean before replacing them with a rumbled groan against your core. His tongue ran over you as he pushed his fist just a bit more. You clenched against him, body fighting the intrusion.
"Relax, girl," he whispered, voice strained taut.
You focused on the feeling of his tongue on your clit, the rough, wiry feel of his mustache against your skin as he lapped at you. His hand twisted and worked against you, shifting just slightly further with each movement. You moved your hands to his hair, willing your muscles to slacken, fighting down the occasional tensing as he worked you closer to orgasm.
He continued to twist himself into you. "Almost there," you heard him breathe against your skin. The bumps of his knuckles were edging into you now, twisting right at the edge.
He pulled your clit into his mouth, sucking and mouthing at it in earnest. Spit drooled down past his lips and you shivered. Truthfully, he was doing a fantastic job of distracting you from the discomfort of stretching you open.
The final stretch was the best and worst part of it all. He pushed in with one final thrust, growling against your clit as your orgasm pitched you over the edge instantly, harder than you'd ever remembered. Your thighs tensed, hands gripping his hair as desperate, gasping moans reverberated in your throat.
It took a few moments for the stars to fade from your vision. You loosened your thighs from his face and he pulled his head back letting out a noise that bordered on a whimper at the sight of you stretched around his wrist.
His eyes flicked up to yours, incredulous and desperate. His hand gripped behind your head as he pulled you to meet him in a sloppy kiss. "Fuck you're so good. You're goddamn incredible," he murmured. “Fucking nasty little thing.”
He kissed you again, wiggling his fingers experimentally, and smirking as you gasped into his lips. He pressed his hand in further, petting his fingers against your walls, circling around your cervix as he explored every inch of you. You hadn’t even recovered from your last orgasm and you were already panting for him again.
"You're so fuckin' hot in here. Christ, I feel like I'm in your fuckin' belly, sweetheart." He curled his fingers into a fist, large and heavy inside you, before thrusting it tentatively.
His hand caught against your public bone, grinding against the spongy spot there and wrenching a guttural groan from you. Micah grinned at you, continuing to fuck up against it. "That the spot, honey?" Your body curled in on itself, legs shaking. "Sure looks it. Tell me what you want."
"Wanna come again," you blurted out, words running together.
Micah feigned surprise, poorly hiding a smirk. "Don't you think you're askin' a bit much, darlin’? Already had two. Just had your second one no time ago even. You really that needy?"
"Please, Micah. Oh, fuck, please," you begged, ego long ago thrown to the wolves.
You moved to press your fingers back to your core, but he grabbed your hand with his free one.
"Didn't say you could do that." He twisted his fist, grinding each knuckle against that perfect spot. Your fingers twitched in his grasp desperately and you made a pitiful, sobbing noise. Micah tutted softly, pushing your hand back towards your chest. "Oh, don't go lookin' at me like that, now. Be patient. Wanna enjoy this. Ain’t every day someone lets me do somethin’ like this."
Patience was the last goal on your fucking mind, but you couldn’t complain too much with how good you felt. Every movement was right on the edge of too much, forcing electricity to spark in your brain and shiver down your limbs.
Micah shifted down to ghost his free thumb over your clit, slipping over the skin to each side of it. Your fingers dug into the blanket, feeling the dirt shift underneath. Fuck, he’d barely touched your clit and you were about to come.
"You gonna come all over my fuckin' arm again?" He thrust into you quicker. "Do it. Show me how much you love this, doll."
Expletives and babbled words slipped past your lips the closer you got. Your brain was turning to glorious, electrified mush. Tears welled in your eyes, spilling over as the intensity mounted, climbing higher and higher until the wire finally snapped. Your brain short-circuited, legs shaking and pussy clenching around him.
He only gave you a moment’s rest before shifting his hand to pull it out. Your eyes flew open. “Wait,” you breathed. “Just—gimme a fuckin’ second—Goddammit, Micah, don’t move.”
He laughed, pausing his movements. You felt boneless, your body still high on endorphins and electric jolts.
“You think I’ve earned a shot at getting my cock in you?” Micah asked, eyeing you. You were silent, contemplating. Letting Micah fuck you was a lot different than letting him make you cum, but you were in pretty deep here regardless. He’d also more than proven that, despite nearly everyone thinking the opposite, he knew what the hell he was doing. “Promise I can make you cum again.”
“Yeah, okay,” you sighed. In for a penny, in for a pound.
He smirked, starting to work his hand out of you now. “Glad to know you ain’t too selfish.”
“This whole thing was your fuckin’ idea, asshole,” you hissed, the tail end coming out weak as his hand slipped out of you.
He splayed his dripping fingers, watching your cum web between them, and laughed. “As if you weren’t beggin’ me for more.”
You growled out a threat, but he ignored you, sucking slick off two fingers before wiping the rest on your blanket. Micah gripped at your hips then, turning you over to balance on hands and knees. His hands smoothed over your still-twitching thighs, pushing your dress back up until it rested on your back. He moved back down to spread your cheeks, exposing you to him. He looked you over for a long moment, just palming at you, before rearing a hand back and smacking your ass hard.
You yelped, almost thrown off balance and onto the ground. “Stop it, Micah. Just fuck me already ‘fore I change my mind.”
He pulled his cock out of his pants then, shoving into you in one thrust, hips firm against your ass. "That what you wanted from me, sweetheart? Needed a cock to shut you up?” He didn’t give you a chance to reply, starting to fuck you at a quick pace, grinding himself against your insides at the end of each thrust. His voice lilted into a smarmy laugh. “Fuckin’ cunt’s all loose around me now, girl. Feelin’ like a well-used whore.”
“Fuck you. You—you’re the reason it’s—,” you tried and failed to protest. You scowled. “I’ll yell for help if you ain’t gonna be nice.”
“No you fuckin’ won’t,” he laughed again, louder this time. “Won’t get to cum again if you go and do somethin’ stupid like that, and if I know one thing ‘bout you after all this it’s that deep down, under that innocent, little face, you’re a desperate whore who loves to fuckin' cum for me. You hid it well, but I see you now, darlin’, clear as day.”
He angled his cock down to drag against a different spot then, forcing your angry words from your mind.
“There we go, doll, let me take care of you,” Micah cooed, voice cocky and arrogant as he pet over your hair, pushing it to one side of your neck.
The wet, slapping of your coupling echoed around the trees, noises sloppy and obscene enough to make the devil blush, you thought, shifting to hide your face in your arms.
Micah was on you like a whip, wrapping your hair in his fist and pulling you back up and against him, breathing out, “C’mon, don’t be curlin’ up on me like that. Arch your back, darlin’. There we go." His teeth sunk into the flesh of your shoulder, earning a hissing groan from you.
Micah let out a breathy laugh. "Attagirl, clench down on me just like that. Fuck." He kept grinding himself against that blinding, perfect spot, slowing down every time you really started to tense up and get close.
"Micah please," you begged.
"Tell me what you want, girl," he teased. "I ain't no mind reader."
"Wanna cum," was all the words you could manage.
He laughed in reply. "You're fuckin' insatiable. Greediest thing I ever fucked, swear to god." He bit down in the same spot on your shoulder, grinding his teeth down into it before giving it a kiss. "Not yet, darlin'. Been lettin’ you have whatever you want, but you ain't comin' again ‘til I'm 'bout to."
He kept his maddening pace, edging off and slowing his pace every time you thought you could get there. You were about to fight him off and do it your fucking self.
“Turn around, sweetheart. Want to see your pretty little face when I fill you up.” He pulled out, releasing your hair, shifting you to lay down again. You went eagerly, hopeful that this meant he was close and you'd get one more yourself.
"There we go," he groaned, easing back into you, pace even slower than before.
"Micah, if you don't fuckin' hurry up—"
"If you don't stop rushin' me, I ain't givin' you nothin' more," he growled before settling. "Now I shouldn't go rewardin' your bad behavior, but I need to feel this cunt tighten around me ‘fore I cum, so get those pretty fingers working 'fore you lose your chance."
Your fingers flew to your clit, wasting no time in circling and grinding against it. You quickly grew frustrated as that same not-enough feeling kept you on the edge. You needed more.
You shifted your other hand down, pushing two fingers inside you, pressing alongside his cock. He groaned as you shifted them back and forth over him, trying to reach the spot you wanted.
"Greedy thing," he hissed. "Cunt full'a cock wasn't enough for you, huh? Not as big as my fist? Maybe I should buy you somethin' to shove up in you alongside me. Make sure you're stuffed nice and full next time." You whimpered, shoving your fingers deeper.
Your other fingers moved over your clit, still circling frantically, forcing one more orgasm out of your exhausted body. This one was duller, more drawn out than before, but left you breathless all the same.
"Fuck yes, honey," Micah moaned, voice shaking between each thrust. "I ain't never gonna leave you alone after this you know that right? But you ain't gonna mind. Gonna fuck you on every inch of camp. Strauss' desk. Dutch's bed. Hell, I'll even fuck you while ridin’ on Baylock. Make that saddle smell more like cunt than leather."
He showed no signs of slowing down and you whimpered, overwhelmed and overstimulated, as he babbled and groaned his pleasure.
"Gonna fill this fuckin’ cunt up so full, girl. Want you soakin' into your clothes 'till mornin’. Wonder if you'll be able to sneak off for a bath or if you'll have to wait 'till evenin’. Fuckin’ christ. Shit." His breathing was erratic now, hips slapping against yours in desperate, little thrusts before he cursed again, thighs tensing and grinding as thick cum shot into you.
He held himself still above you as you both just breathed, lungs desperate for air and sweat-coated bodies limp and exhausted. He pulled himself out of you, cum trailing down your ass after him to soak into the blanket.
Micah just sat there then, breathing heavily and watching you leak with a smug smile on his face.
"So, doll, you still lookin' for a gentleman?"