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Timmy & Vicky Go Camping... Sorta'	By : Wendell Urth Category: +1 through F > Fairly OddParents Views: 5873 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Vicky takes Timmy camping so she can be with her latest boyfriend... (w hat's his name?)

Chapter List
- 1-Vicky & Timmy
- 1
Timmy & Vicky Go Camping... Sorta'
Disclaimer: The Fairly Odd Parents and all associated characters belong to their respective creators and owners, not me. I receive no compensation whatsoever for this story. I do not condone drinking or any of the sexual activity or situations in this story. It's a fantasy.
Timmy lay on the old cot in the darkness and cursed under his breath as he listened to the rain fall outside. And inside, the tent was old and leaked. The last time he had moved his cot to avoid a drip from a weakened seam, his tent mate had screamed to at him to “Shut the fuck up” and thrown a shoe. As drunk as she was, her aim was unaffected and it had clouted him on the ear.
A new leak was developing and she still had another shoe.
This was not turning into the fun camping trip his parents had promised him with his “favorite babysitter” while they went to the mountains… or was it the seashore… or a cruise? They were never really clear when they dumped him someplace.
Vicky had been so happy she was unrecognizable. Other than a few dire warnings and threats of bodily harm, “to stay out of her way tonight”, the drive to the campsite had been almost pleasant. Timmy was puzzled until he found out she was going to meet her latest boyfriend. “God, I hope we’re not sharing a tent!” Timmy prayed. “She makes so much damn noise when she fucks Steve… or was it Bill? or Zach this time? Who can sleep?”
Timmy wasn’t actually sure which “boyfriend” this might be. She’d been going through a lot of them lately. She wasn’t shy about bringing them into the Turner home when she babysat. She was pretty good about getting them out before Timmy’s parents returned. She had let up on Timmy, stopped the abuse in return for him keeping quiet about her nocturnal companions.
Timmy had been excited at first, peeking from his various hiding places had been fun, better than his porn stash! But after a while, it felt… creepy! It bothered him, he wasn’t sure why. He got to see her naked, from a distance and he felt he deserved a little reward for all the abuse she had heaped on him over the years.
But it grew old fast. Masturbating in the closet, in the air vent as the red head got fucked… it didn’t feel good.
He’d lay in his room, pillow over his head and try to drown out the sound of her moaning and screaming. She liked to talk dirty, scream dirty things while having sex. At first, he had had to stifle his giggling from the hiding places. But he soon realized she was just a foul-mouthed bitch and was keeping him up late at night. The only funny thing was when she’d forget who was fucking her and she’d call out, “Oh, ram it in me Steve,” to Zach or “Fuck that little cunt hole, Bill!” to Roger. Evidently that kind of thing pissed the guys off.
The fact was that she never saw the same guy for more than a week or two anyway… even when she managed to remember their name. Timmy was amazed that anyone in their right mind would want to be with her for even that long. The sex must have been pretty good… but maybe not that great.
She was drinking a lot lately too. One time she had been so drunk that after a midnight trip to the bathroom, she ended up (by mistake) in Timmy’s room… in Timmy’s bed! He’s been asleep and the shock had elevated him ten feet in the air. She had started to choke him and was screaming “rape” when her boyfriend (“Ugh, naked much?”), had burst in, saw what was going on and fell on the floor laughing. She had turned on the boyfriend (John? Scott?) for laughing at her while she was “obviously being molested by a chipmunk.”
Timmy tried to feel sorry for her. He really did… but she was such a fucking cunt… such a drunk lowlife cunt, that it was hard to be sympathetic.
She had parked him in the tent hours ago and warned him not to leave, to stay out her way. Her latest bf’s tent was across the clearing; Timmy never did learn this one’s name… but Timmy was OK with that. It was a big tent, he had snacks, a lantern and a load of comics he had only read one or two times. He’d left the tent flap open and could see the lake nearby. He could barely hear the lovebirds.
It started to rain, really come down hard. He closed the tent flap, zippered it shut. The sound of rain on the canvas was like a never-ending series of drumbeats. Timmy shivered and pulled the single thin blanket around him and settled back on his cot. He began dozing, thinking about a movie he had seen “Dimmsdale Summer Camp Murders III” which had a scene where a kid alone in the woods was attacked in his tent.
Something crashed through the tent. Timmy went stark white and screamed as a monster leapt at him in the darkness. “You little shit!” and tried to strangle him… with claws. It was the movie come to life!
Timmy tried to fight back but was wrapped up in the blanket. He had no idea where he was or what was attacking him. He managed to grab at the creature and it shrieked, spitting in his face. A foul smell of something. He realized with shock what he was gripping. It was a breast, a tit (his first one!). He recognized the odor, he smelled it on his mother’s breath every morning, scotch.
As her fingernails began to claw at his face, he suddenly recognized this particular “monster” in the darkness.
This was his monster.
Vicky.
The lantern had been broken in the scuffle; Timmy fumbled in the darkness for the flashlight he kept in his back pack. Vicky snarled at him and batted it out of his hand. In the brief moment of illumination, he saw she was wearing just a pair of panties and a rain-soaked unbuttoned shirt. He hair was plastered to her head and she looked like a drowned rat. Make-up, eyeshadow running down her face. A drowned red-headed rat.
In spite of her anger, in spite of the menace and violence that hung in the air, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. And he had touched her breast. He had squeezed a titty for the first time. He could still feel a trace of the firm nipple, like a physical after imagine in his hand. Part of the tent had collapsed where she had crashed through it, fortunately the wind and rain were blowing from the opposite direction, but some rain was getting in.
Timmy didn’t need to ask. Obviously, things hadn’t worked out with this boyfriend… whatever his name was. In fact, Timmy could hear a car starting up and pulling away. He was about to make a snide comment when he heard Vicky weeping.
In the darkness he heard her fumbling around. Sound of bottles clinking together. Sniffles. Drinking. A hiccup. More weeping. The shoe got tossed.
Soon she was gently snoring. Vicky snored, a small reedy sound when she inhaled. It was kind of cute. Sad, but cute.
The rain eventually stopped and through the torn tent, moonlight peaked through the clouds over the lake. Timmy looked over at Vicky, she had taken off her shirt at some point, Timmy saw a clean t shirt nearby. She must have dropped it, forgot to put it on. Asleep on her back, her breasts were bare in the gentle moonlight.
Bare. Naked titties.
Timmy watched her. Quietly, slowly he lowered his pants. His erection was warm in his hand. He froze, Vicky turned in her sleep facing him, he watched as her breasts rose and fell as she slept.
She was only a few feet away.
Timmy began to masturbate. He had done it before, when Vicky was having sex in his home. He had stopped. It made him sad. It made him angry to watch her with other guys. Knowing that he could never have her. She was a slut and a whore, he told himself. But he was angry, angry at himself, because he wasn’t good enough for her. He hadn’t admitted it to himself before, but he knew it now.
She was only a few feet away. Partially naked.
She was only a few feet away. And he didn’t dare touch her.
She was only a few feet away. He came in his hand and was disgusted with himself.
She was only a few feet away.
He fumbled at his pants, everything was twisted in the blanket and he gave up. He took one more look at her bare breasts, turned over and went to sleep.
He didn’t see her eyes had opened or noticed when her snoring stopped.
He never knew how long he was asleep when he felt her climb into his cot. She pulled the twisted blanket off of him, nearly knocking him out of the cot. “Whaaa?” he managed to say. “Shut up, twerp, just shut the fuck up. Don’t say a word.”
He felt something held to his lips, smelled the alcohol. He tried to push it away, but she forced the bottle to his lips. The whiskey burned his throat and he began to splutter and cough. Then Vicky took a long swallow. Then offered Timmy a smaller one. He was on fire, tears leaking from his eyes. Then something else was against his mouth. She kissed him. Her tongue was deep in his mouth. He kissed her back, she tasted terrible. His tongue was numb from the whiskey. Didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Except she was in his bed now.
He found that has hand was inside her panties, didn’t know when that had happened. He felt the rough texture of her pubes… warm and very wet and not just from the rain. His head was spinning as she pulled him down to her breast. He found her engorged sloping nipple, it was like a small berry on his lips, his tongue. He began to suck and lick, lick and suck. He heard her gasp, muttering under her breath. “Im gonna’ kill you, kill you, you little fuck!” she crooned in his ear. He began to move his hand back when she panted “No, no, no” and held his hand over her mound. It was so easy to slip his fingers into her slick wet hole. “There… Right there, fuck face!” She squealed like a pig as her legs flew into the air.
She was playing with her clit now.
He bit down on her nipple. He wanted to hurt her. He wanted to mark her.
She freaked! She nearly threw him off and screamed. He knew he had gone too far, but he didn’t care. She grabbed him, but instead of throwing him across the tent, she guided him to her other nipple and dared him to bite again. He laughed and bit so hard he tasted her blood.
She screamed his name “Timmy, Timmy!” and locked her legs around him, crushing him. He felt her shudder, cumming all over him. He couldn’t breathe, “Can’t breathe,” he gasped. Her long legs had locked him in a death grip. She knew she was hurting him; he heard her laugh. She reduced the pressure.
“Do that again, and I’ll crush you, you little turd... No, do that again and I’ll never let you fuck me!”
Timmy laughed and groaned at the same time. “Who ever said I even wanted to fuck you?”
He felt her hand grab his hard cock, still drenched in her cum. She squeezed for a moment then whispered in his ear. “This tells me!” He felt her begin to guide his cock to her streaming hole. He was going to fuck her, he couldn’t deny it. He began to thrust his hips.
She laughed her evil laugh. “Little virgin boy, thinks he’s gonna get lucky? Think it’s that easy?” He jammed his lips against her mouth and she guided his cock to her cunt. It was warm and wet and tight and the best thing he had ever felt.
Her legs locked around him again, but the pressure was wonderful this time. Two, three, four thrusts and he as deep inside her. She had grabbed his hair and was tugging on it every time he thrust into her. Five, six, seven, eight. He was going to cum. He moaned. She panted, “You cum before I do and Ill rip your balls off. Timmy, Timmy. Oh God! Timmy! I love you, you little bastard. Timmy…”
It was his first time, he didn’t know how to back off, he began thrusting harder, faster, deeper.
He came first, but only a few moments before she did. He knew he should probably pull out.
He should.
He couldn’t
He didn’t.
The last thrust was the hardest and he erupted inside her. He collapsed on top of her, exhausted. He could hear her heart pounding. He tried to catch his breath…
Shocked! She threw him on the ground and turned over on the cot. He heard her sneer, “Whaddya’ call that?”
He felt like crying. It was the most wonderful experience of his life and it meant nothing to her.
Then he heard a gentle laugh. “That’s what you get for spying on me, back at home. Think I didn’t know you little perv?” She laughed again, “Get some sleep, twerp. Let’s see if you do better in the morning.”
Timmy waited till he heard her begin to snore. It was getting light outside now. He stood, found the whiskey bottle, took a small sip and found the cap. He looked down at her naked body and gently stroked her leg.
He had to admit, she had nice legs. Pretty feet too.
And he bit her on her big toe.
She screeched and flew out of bed, but Timmy had a big lead as he headed for the lake. He might have made it too, but the night’s rain had turned everything to mud and he fell halfway there.
Wrestling naked in the mud lead to other things. This time Timmy did not disappoint.
“At least she remembers my name,” he thought
- 1
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Timmy & Vicky Go Camping... Sorta'