Van Life Diaries: Didn’t Break the Bed

Van life has begun!

We are just finishing our second week, and although we have been indulged by people offering up their couches, and my parents booking motels, the few experiences Master J and I have actually had in the van thus far have been…interesting.

Let’s just say I’ve been confronted by many fears since Day 1. Truth is, I didn’t realize half of these fears existed. I’ve been sheltered – spoiled – most of my life, so I’ve never had to experience eating out of a can or going to the bathroom in the wilderness (I mean, minus some of the field parties I attended during my youth). I had never before thought of bears as a significant threat to my life, nor the weather.

Our first night in Pam the van (yes, that is the name we settled on; you can thank Master J for this), we parked outside of a friend’s house in the suburbs of Toronto. I learned very quickly that waking up with the sun would be a definite. Not only does it blast through the windows (no matter how hard we try to cover them with curtains or blankets), but the blistering heat produced by our bodies, and that rising star, leave no negotiation. Summer will be a fucken blast, people!

Considering my father and Master J spent, maybe, a couple of hours building the bed (on our departure day, I must add), it’s surprisingly comfortable. It made our second evening – which we spent in a 24/7 Walmart parking lot in Niagara – something to look forward to, and our third night – in a motel – kind of a bummer. We actually missed Pam, and almost abandoned the luxury of our king bed for her embrace.

It took several days before I even thought about the idea of sex. Not only have we been sleeping in (very) public settings – really don’t want a public indecency charge on my record – but I was also worried about destroying our beloved sleeping place.

Master J – surely desperate – found a free “campground” just outside of the State Park we were supposed to be spending Memorial Day weekend in. This free “campground,” according to the map, was large and far away from the State parks, promising privacy. I agreed and we drove the fifteen minutes South.

When we saw the sign, I pulled down an unpaved road, looked to my left, where the camp ground was marked on the map, and saw, what seemed to be, a huge, gravel parking lot. There were a few picnic benches, and no life in sight. “It’s perfect!” Master J thought. I was a little more skeptical. my first question: “umm, where do I go to the bathroom.” “In the woods.” The confidence he had in this plan was nauseating. “I am not…you know…doing that here!” “What do you think we’re going to be doing throughout this trip?” “Ummm, pooping in toilets, duh…!”

Wasn’t the best start, but I caved. I took comfort in the fact that the real campground was fifteen minutes up the road, should I change my mind at any point. We did, in fact, go back to cook and use their facilities until the sun went down.

Upon our return to the private lot (it was definitely no campground), we were finally alone. Like. Really. Truly. Alone. The dark came in, and suddenly all the years of horror-movie watching with my older sister dripped into my consciousness.

“What if someone comes out of the woods?”

“What if we hear a chainsaw in the middle of the night?”

“What if we see little stick figures hanging in trees, and get summoned into a rock shack, only to be possessed by a legendary murderer of the woods…?”

Falling asleep was going to be difficult, so, I turned my focus on Master J. I figured if the Blair Witch was was going to get us, I might as well have a good fuck before hand. My husband, of course, was thrilled.

You’d think that doing the dirty in such a small space would require extra effort. Turns out, I orgasm quite easily when given little room to work with and have a lot of fear to repress. It was the needing to pee after that was difficult. Stepping out of the van, my rational mind kicked in (you know, ignoring my Blair Witch dread, and transitioning right into my death-by-bear survival tactics). I vocalized every move I was making loudly, so any bear in the area would hear me and hopefully run in the other direction.

“I’M EXITING THE VEHICLE, BEARS!”

“I COME IN PEACE, BEARS!”

“I’M JUST GOING TO PEE, BEARS!”

“DON’T EAT ME, BEARS!”

Master J found this quite amusing, but I didn’t die, so I chose not to be annoyed with him.

Unfortunately, as a result of my bladder-induced adrenaline rush, I was no longer ready for bed. Master J, being the gentleman that he is, asked if there’s anything he could do to help me sleep. Unsure if it would work, I requested another orgasm…

Somehow this ended up in a multi-orgasmic experience (a very rare phenomenon for me), which later allowed me to drift into one of the most peaceful slumbers of my life. Perhaps it was the incredible exhaustion I’d experienced due to a sudden drop in stress and adrenaline, or perhaps it was the relief that we didn’t break the bed. Regardless, van life got off to a very unexpected (although, amusing) start…

And I haven’t even mentioned the tornado warnings yet…


So, tell me, what crazy sex experiences have you had while camping/in the wilderness?


Until next time,

Fuck well, friends!