Camp Colt

Kettle Corn couldn’t sleep.

It was the dead of night. The cabin was almost completely dark and the lights had long since been extinguished. The only thing left to see by were the narrow slats of light filtering through the rafters and the moon’s reflection off the lake’s surface that danced across the cabin’s walls.

It was the dead of night. The cabin was almost completely dark, and the lights had long since been put out. The only thing left to see by were the narrow slats of moonlight that filtered through the rafters and reflection off the lake’s surface that danced across the far wall, etching in it the cut-out shapes of multiple foals in their beds, fast asleep.

It was long past her bedtime, everypony else had gone to sleep, and yet still, Kettle Corn couldn’t sleep.

She found herself lying awake in her bed, staring off into the distance and holding her breath as she silently waited, wondered, hooves pressed under her pillow and her ears peaked and scanning the air for any differences, any signs at all that he’d soon arrive.

Every time she felt like she was about to drift off to sleep, something else would happen. Sometimes it would be the creaking of a floorboard, or the scraping of branch against the window, but other times it sounded like the opening and closing of a door, hoofsteps that almost sounded like somepony was sneaking their way through the cabin.

Whatever it was, whenever it happened, her ears would perk up once more and her heart would just about skip a beat—she’d have to bite her lip to stop herself from making a peep, and then she’d lie there in wait, silently holding on, trembling as she tried not to move or let anypony on that she was awake.

She’d feel her hooves start to shake and her entire body would tense as Kettle Corn struggled to keep her composure, to not make any sudden moves or sounds as she waited, pent breath, for him to finally arrive and do... She wasn’t quite sure what he’d promised to do, but whatever it was, it had her teetering on the edge of excitement.

The jitters started up again and she bit her lip. She tossed and turned, rolling on her side to put her back to the bathroom where she’d—She couldn’t think of it. Not now, not whilst she was trying to sleep.

“But what if he came?”

The doubt was still there, creeping up on her. She silently hoped, begged he would come, but at the same time she almost hoped that he wouldn’t, that she could put this all behind her and go back to living a normal life. That she could just go to sleep without a disturbance.

All she had to do was get to sleep, she thought to herself. Ignore it, try to push it to the back of her mind and forget about it, and it would all go away. Maybe then she could focus on getting her cutie mark, making friends, and not f-f-fucking—
She whimpered.

As she lay there, Kettle Corn absentmindedly started to rub her thighs together. At first it was just a little—just scratching an itch, she told herself, but then after a few more rubs, and the gyrating of her hips went on for more than a few moments, she turned to grinding—panting silently as the moisture between her legs started to spread.

It was a small and careful motion, not anything that she thought would wake anypony up, but just enough to offer a little relief.

“Ah...”

A tiny gasp escaped her lips as she pressed her hind legs together. Not too late realising her mistake, she down on bit her lip. Rolling onto her back, she pulled the covers over herself and squeezed her eyes shut. She covered her mouth with a hoof, panting into the frog as she then transitioned to the other venturing under the blankets.

She gently kneaded it into her teats and then went lower to gently press against the wet folds.

The touch was like a bolt of electricity that made her shudder—her breathing hitched as she sucked in air to try not to make a sound, and her thighs tensed on either side of her hoof—Moments later, as her excitement fell off, her legs loosened and she felt herself wink against her hoof. A fresh dribbling of fluid leaked out against her hoof, wetting it as a tiny tap, tap, tap, of moisture dabbed the sheets below.

As her eyes fluttered open, Kettle Corn silently thanked the gods she was able to get the lower bunk, but just about took that back when she heard a loud creaking, and the motion form above—The bunk atop hers lurched as the occupant tossed and turned, causing Kettle Corn to freeze on the spot.

She had no choice but to bite her lip—holding her breath as she lay motionless on the edge of release, her whole body trembling and bristling with sweat as she waited on the other filly to go back to sleep.

“Please don’t get up, please don’t get up,...” She silently whispered under her breath.

All the while, the other bunk creaked again, and lurched as the sheets above hers ruffled and shifted, then became still once more.

As the few tense minutes passed, the bunk settled and the other foal’s motions stopped. Kettle Corn couldn’t move, though—still stuck waiting, her eyes bore into the wooden beams inches from her head, waiting and listening. Her ears strained to pick up any signs of life. Anything that might indicate she was about to be caught.

Only after a few more minutes, when a silent, barely-audible, cute and foalish snort was heard from the bed above, did she finally relax.
Kettle let out her breath, and rolled onto her side. She pulled her hoof out from under her and stuck it under her pillow—Her legs felt sticky, and even as she lay there, trying again to try and ignore it, her fillyhood continued to wink and tease her, yearning for release all the more now.

Kettle Corn whined, closing her eyes to try and force herself to go to sleep. To try and ignore the heat and make it go away—maybe if she prayed to Luna, the Princess would come and—

Just then there was a creak.

As gust of wind picked up and whole cabin groaned, there was a sound, almost like the snapping of a door that jolted Kettle Corn upright. Wide awake, she looked around her and craned her neck and turning her ears to see over her shoulder.

From her position in her bed, facing away from the back of the cabin, she could barely make out anything other than the dim glow of another two fillies in the far corner.

They were hiding under their blankets, pretending like nopony could see them. She could hear their faint whispering and giggles as a pair of silhouettes moved under the blankets, clearly illuminated by the dim glow of a flickering candle, talking about—Celestia-knows what—

SNAP

She didn’t have enough time to contemplate that, as something else caught her attention—Kettle Corn’s ears twitched and turned to the sound of a box falling over. Her heart now racing, she turned and pulled the blankets closer as she looked around the cabin—trying to see past the rows of beds to what was between them, hiding in the shadows.

The howling of the wind abated, and in the darkness, her eyes narrowed as she spotted the source of the disturbance: a small carton was lying in the isle between the bunks. Illuminated from behind by the moon’s light, it teetered and then rolled as another gust of fresh air blew through the cabin, making a hollow, papery clattering as it skittered across the boards.

Behind it, the bathroom door creaked ajar and then reversed direction, clicking shut under its own momentum. It wasn’t wide enough to see through, but it was still enough to serve as a reminder—Kettle Corn’s cheeks flushed red as her thoughts went back to the window.

She glanced at her hoof—the one she’d been using earlier, and contemplated washing it off. It felt sticky but not dirty. Looking back at the door, she saw it had moved slightly, but not by much, and as the wind picked up it started to open again.

“M-Maybe I should...” she thought.

~ ~ ~

After finishing in the bathroom, Kettle Corn made sure to close the door after her. She pressed a hoof into it, putting her weight against the hinges as she listened for the tell-tale clicking of the latch falling into place—Once it snapped shut, and a faint clack that made her smirk, she turned around and crept back through the narrow isle to return to bed.

The cabin was still quiet as always—the only sound being that of her own hoofsteps, the occasional creak of the floorboards, and the snoring of the fillies around her as she arrived at her bunk.

The covers were cool to the touch, and as she lay back down, she positioned herself to avoid the damp patch in the middle of the sheets, then rolled onto her side, putting the bathroom to her back. She inhaled, and sighed—letting the silence sink in as she drifted off into Luna’s wonderland.

For a moment, she thought she heard what sounded like a hoof, but she reminded herself that it couldn’t be anyone there. She’d been watching the door most of the night, and nopony had come in whilst she was in there. It had to have been the cabin settling.

Another creak—a croak of wood followed by the rustling of the trees as a breeze brushed through the air above her—She shivered and pulled the blankets up over her, covering her shoulder as she snuggled in further.

There was another creak, but then nothing more. Back to silence, Kettle Corn sighed and then cupped the back of her hoof over her mouth to cover a yawn. She snuggled further into the blankets and pulled the pillow tight against the side of her head.

Eyes closing, blurry and half asleep, her voice trailed off. “M-Maybe he isn’t coming after all...” she whispered under her breath.

...

...

...

The mattress under her shifted, It wasn’t by much, but enough to cause her to stir from her slumber. The corner behind her compressed under a new weight as a hot breath brushed against the back of her neck, causing Kettle’s fur to bristle.

“Hey~” a familiar voice rasped into her ear.

Kettle’s heart just about jumped into her throat—her gasp was stopped by a hoof pressing into her muzzle as Rumble slid into the covers behind her. His body was unusually warm and soft—bigger than hers, it was like a wall of fur that pushed her forwards, squeezing too close as the two of them tried to fit into the same single bed.

She felt something solid pressing up beside her tail as he shifted his body to fit in beside her—Kettle Corn gasped again, and arc of excitement causing her entire body to tremble from the touch. She clasped at the hoof over her mouth to pull it away—luckily it wasn’t held there very firm, as if he was only doing it so she wouldn’t make a sound.
She whispered, “R-Rumble, what are you—”

“Shhh...” He whispered into her ear. Again, that jolt of electricity coursed through her as he kissed the back of her head—the hot breath of his making her cheeks blush. “Just relax,” he said.

As Rumble’s free hoof, his right hoof, reached over her under the covers, reaching lower and running over her belly to settle into position over her hips—The rest of his body pressed forward against her, she felt that familiar tension building in her core.

She’d known he was older than her, and slightly taller, but now that they were so... close... He felt absolutely massive. He towered over her, like he was the big spoon and she was his little spoon, caressed between him as his hooves explored over her—Rumble’s breathing never left the crux of her neck as he gently pressed his lips into her shoulder, planting a delicate kiss—the first of many, as his hooves settled over her teats and he gently pressed.

Kettle’s entire body tensed. The muscles in her stomach clenched around nothing and she inhaled sharply. She whined breathlessly and reached under her covers to push the hoof away from the sensitive area. “Th-That’s too much...” she said.

Rumble didn’t immediately respond, though his grip did loosen. She heard and felt the hot breath from his nostrils—a certain part of her could tell he was smiling as his voice drifted into her ear. “I got you,” he said, “Just lie back and let Rumble handle this”—The words were followed up by a sharp nip on her ear, combined with the rest of his body shifting as he moved his hips.

Whatever had been poking her tail moved forward—She instinctively opened her legs, but Rumble’s firm grip on her thighs stopped that in its tracks. His shaft inched forward between the tight gap, tickling her legs and grazing against the lips of her pussy causing her to shudder, wetting him with a fresh coating of her fluids.

As she opened her mouth to breath—her whole body was burning, aching to have something inside it—she started moving her hips, grinding gently against his motions.

Rumble’s voice was in her ear—his teeth tickling against the scruff of her neck as a hoof returned to rubbing her breasts. “Good girl~” he said.

The words made Kettle’s blush deepen, but before she could respond she was assaulted again by Rumble sinking his teeth into her shoulder. It wasn’t hard, just a nip, but it was enough to make her mind go blank. Her body tensed and shuddered as she winked desperately against the end of his shaft. “Aaah... R-Rumble...” she gasped, voice shaking.

Rumble’s body stiffened. His motions shuddered to a halt and as Kettle was about to throw her head back to moan to the moon, her tongue was shoved back into her mouth by a thicket of fur. A hoof attached to a foreign arm was shoved into her mouth and the moan came out muffled and surprised. “MMMMF—!”

“Sssshhhh--! Sssshhhhh....!” He urged into her ear, voice barely above a whisper and raspy from his own panting. Kettle could feel his heart pounding in his chest and the warmth of Rumble’s bodyheat enveloping her own as he wrapped himself around her made her tremble, another, smaller squeak escaped her lips and was caught up in the hoof moments before Rumble’s voice returned in her ear. “Y-You have to keep it down...” he whispered.

Kettle’s eyes crossed, focusing on the hoof before turning to the right, focusing on Rumble’s as he looked over her shoulder, eyes glistening in the dark amidst a scruffy mess of a mane—Then past him to the bunk above theirs as Rumble whispered.

“R-Remember where you are?” He panted between breaths. “You don’t want to wake her, do you?”

“Wh—” The trembling in Kettle’s body was stubbornly refusing to subside—she struggled to focus in the dark but, squinting, she was able to make out what Rumble meant—The bunk above their was distended, the planks bowing slightly under their load.

As if to confirm their suspicions and lay to rest any doubt, the blanks above them creaked and bent. A litany of small clicks sounded out as the foundation of their bunk bed shifted—and the only sounds for a full minute was of the soft ruffling of sheets, the cracking of wooden beams, and the sound of the occupant above them smacking her lips as she rolled over in her sleep.

There was a faint grumbling and a snicker, almost like a laugh—and then complete silence.

The quiet dragged on—neither of them willing to do so much as breath until, finally, their ears pricked up the tell-tale signs of a filly sleeping. The faint, mewling slumber of a filly’s snoring filled the air, and Kettle was able to relax.

Rumble released his tension, his body softening against her as he rolled off of her. Pulling his hoof away from her mouth, her breathed a sigh of relief. “That was close...” She heard him say. “P-Promise me you’ll keep it down?”

Kettle’s brow furrowed—She glanced again at the bunk and then looked ahead, blushing slightly as she contemplated the desicion—Really, it wasn’t a difficult choice. She didn’t like the idea of being caught either, but a little devil in the back of her head gave her the idea of what if--

“N-No—” She shook her head, dismissing the idea.

Rumble frowned. “What?”

“I mean—S-Sorry,” she whispered, the quick apology escaping her lips as she covered her mouth with both hooves. Her blush was burning her entire face from ear to ear—thank Celestia it was so dark, otherwise she didn’t think she could survive the embarrassment of turning into a tomato in front of him. “I’ll keep quiet...”

Rumble looked on in confusion for a minute longer before he smiled and leaned in to plant a kiss on her cheek, “It’s okay,” he whispered. The kiss was followed up by another, further down and closer to her neck—Kettle felt the fur on her neck stand up as his voice tickled her as he spoke directly into her ear. “It’s not your fault.”

“But—I didn’t—Want to...” Kettle Corn’s thoughts were derailed as Rumble gently returned to rubbing Kettle Corn across her body—his hooves trailing over her barrel before settling in over her breasts—all the while his shaft pressed back between her thighs as Rumble pressed against her back, almost like her was rutting her.

“Ah—” she gasped suddenly, then, biting her lip, she pressed her hooves into place covering her mouth to silence her squeaks just in time before she felt Rumble’s muzzle on her shoulder, teasing her with a the gentle grazing of his teeth against her shoulder. “Mmmf...”

“Good girl~” She hear Rumble whisper. The words made her light up as he started to slowly hump between her thighs, pressing gently forward and back, grazing the gentle flesh against her winking lips.

Kettle’s heart was racing as she panted, desperately into her hooves. As Rumble’s motions slowed, she pressed back into him, matching the slowly increasing pace of his humping. The next time Rumble spoke, there was a hint of trepidation in his voice, as if he was unsure about what he was about to do next.

“Um...” he said, his motions faltering for a second. The sudden change of pace made Kettle’s entire body tense, like a coiled spring in anticipation, waiting on what Rumble had in store as he slowly smacked his lips and whispered.

Choosing his words carefully, he said, “For this next part, I’ve never—” Rumble paused, as if thinking. Kettle was able to glance to her right and she saw him looking away from her for a moment, his cheeks darkening as he opened and closed his mouth. “It’s important that you keep quiet, okay?” He eventually said, “It’s going to be... intense?”

Kettle Corn blinked in confusion. She started to ask, “Rumble, what are yo—” But was cut off suddenly when his grip tightened around her waist—hooves pressing into her hips and holding them there as Rumble moved his own to reposition himself. “Ah—aahm-mmhf—”

Biting her lip, Kettle Corn pressed her hooves back over her mouth to silence the moans as Rumble slowly, deliberately pulled himself out from between her thighs. With his weight pressed into her, hot breath in the back of her neck, the sensation of his stallionhood grazing across her lips was intense—almost enough to make her—

Kettle Corn’s entire body tensed as the first creeping trickles of her orgasm started to hit her, but before she could go all the way over the edge, she felt the end of Rumble’s flare squeeze its way between her legs, and pull almost all the way out—leaving precious little for her to grind against.

She whimpered, disappointed, but keeping her promise, she diligently bit down on her hooves and squeezed her eyes shut, listening and feeling for what he was about to do next.

With Rumble’s heart racing alongside her own, and her tail twitching, fresh moisture mixing into their fur and the sheets below them, Rumble leaned into her ear to speak again. His voice was trembling. Whether by excitement or fear, she couldn’t tell.

“I-I’m g-going to put it in now...”