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The first time I was a witness to KK’s cheating, an event in which I was truly physically present and in close proximity, took place while we were still dating. We were in a committed relationship by most standard definitions, allegedly exclusive to one another. We were contemplating our engagement, planned for later in the year, before starting college.

The context: We’d gone on a camping trip with a group of friends. It was me, KK, Laurie (her BFF), Laurie’s boyfriend Allen and another committed, dating couple, Anna and Paul. There were two other guys, acquaintances that the girls were hoping to find female companions for among a larger circle of friends at an outdoor camping event. So there were eight of us in total, three couples, along with third and fourth wheels, so to speak.

KK was pissed at me from the onset. She hates camping and protested about going on the outing even before we left. Camping, in her mind, meant a sacrifice at a 4-star quality hotel. I always thought it odd however, as we spent about 80% of our sex time using the back seat of a car as the venue. While not 'camping out', hardly luxurious in terms of places for a rendezvous.

The long weekend trip was in late summer/early fall, the weather unpredictable. A cold front moved in and none of us were prepared. We ended up in an emergency overnight situation. Gale force winds, intermittent rain and sleet, and all of us packed into the borrowed station wagon I was driving. Piled in blankets, coats and sleeping bags, we did our best on sleeping arrangements. The two single guys were relegated the front seat, ****** to sleep upright. Paul and Anna ended up in the middle seat, sandwiched under piles of coats and a sleeping bag. Me, KK, Allen, and Laurie were in the back of the wagon. Luxury accommodations by the standard in that moment, sleeping ‘boy-girl-boy-girl’ on a pad of blankets, with zipped together sleeping bags as a cover.

There was drama over the latter sleeping arrangement. It was orchestrated by KK after a bit of a tiff with Laurie. We'd originally laid down with KK in the spot I ended up occupying; girl-boy-girl-boy, the totally wrong order according to KK. Her obsessive jealousy would not have me lying adjacent to Laurie all night, certainly in the domain of irony given everything that happened that night.

The wind roared, rocking the wagon, while rain and sleet pelted the roof. It was white noise in excess. Eventually the windows fogged up, opaque with condensation. It seemed like forever, but the sounds of deep breathing, snores, the usual signs of sleep, permeated the interior.

I was restless, sleepy but horny, feeling confined. I was still wearing my jeans and a windbreaker over a T-shirt, fully clothed, lying next to KK. She, on the other hand, had changed into a set of thick fleece warm-ups and a couple of pairs of socks. I’d helped her change outfits, in a rush before the rain set in, using the stall of the campground restroom. I knew that she had no panties or bra on, as I was the one to select her clothing. Helping her change, my cock stirred, hardening at my plans for her later. I was trying to maneuver and manipulate her into an easy access attire mode, selfishly wanting to find a way to satisfy my horniness once things settled down.

That backfired. The little pisser rejected every single one of my advances as we huddled in the pile in back of the wagon. KK eventually rolled over, facing away from me, sleeping. I inferred she was still pissed off at me about camping, especially now that the weather had turned to absolute shit, and she was going to be made uncomfortable in such primitive conditions. I was still at least partly awake an hour or so later. The sounds of sleep mostly still permeated the wagon’s interior. From time to time, I thought, perhaps imagined, I was hearing some murmured voice, a tiny “bleat” sometimes, like a sheep might make, a little “oh…” or “mmm…” As the murmurs progressed, it became obvious to me that these were the sounds of sex. KK and Allen, having turned toward one another, were making out! They undoubtedly thought everyone else was sound asleep, that the noise from the raging weather would give cover.

I was on my side and back, lying against the rear wheel well, facing their direction. I could see, sometimes feel the movement of the sleeping bag, as their position changed, body to body. They were kissing. The soft, wet sounds were distinct. It took a while to actually come to the realization that they were not just kissing, they were doing some heavy petting. Allen was finger-banging KK and KK was stroking Allen’s cock and balls, an innocent handjob, right? That’s what I kept trying to convince myself of.

Their intermittent whispers in one another's ear; "That's it... do it faster..."

"Right there..."

"Oh, that... like that..."

Then the gentle, sloppy sounds of kissing. I was going to lose my mind.

KK’s touch had Allen cumming first. It was obvious in the moment, his body shuddering, a low, muffled, barely perceptible moan as KK gave him release. I heard her voice, almost inaudible, “That’s nice…”

There was a short pause before Allen resumed strumming KK’s clit. It wasn’t long before she got her climax. I felt her jiggle, shake during her orgasm, a soft little moan of, “Oh God…”

I came in my boxer shorts. Then it was totally quiet. The rest of the night I oscillated between emotional extremes, shame, guilt, wanting nothing more, or less than to wake KK, take her back, right there in the wagon full of people, all of them witness. That’s not what happened. Instead the days that followed were filled with awkward moments, uncomfortable encounters, me knowing about and witnessing KK and Allen’s indiscretion, wondering if Laurie knew or if Allen might have confessed, or if anyone else heard KK and Allen had hooked up (not what we called it then).

I tried convincing myself KK was not cheating on me. Rather, it was all just 'innocent' making-out, not actual sex, like sucking or fucking. That emotional salve never, if really ever, lasted very long. I let it settle in my mind that it didn’t really count as cheating since KK didn’t actually fuck Allen. No penetration, so no real cheating.

Then my thoughts would be dominated by questions. What if KK’d been alone with Allen? What if they’ve done this before, when I wasn’t around? What if Laurie knows? What if she’s doing Allen and KK too?

I carried the knowledge the Laurie and KK were also bisexual, frequently sexually active together. Something I was allowed to be aware by KK and by Laurie, but never to witness or talk about it. It seemed possible that Laurie was not only aware of KK’s extracurricular activities, but part of them. Those thoughts burned in me, jealousy, more even than the thought of KK doing another guy.

KK's relationship with Laurie was something well beyond my experience and maturity level at the time. I chose not to think of the two of them having sex as cheating. I rationalized it as something both fascinating, mysterious, that it was a domain in which I could not interfere or compete within. So I accepted it. That said, I was always considering the thought of being with Laurie or just watching to see them in the act.

In fact I considered Laurie a bad influence on KK. It became easy to blame Laurie for the incident, to allow myself to think it was something she, not KK had orchestrated, from seeing the opportunity and dynamically planning it. I even developed variant fantasies about the encounter, that Laurie was also participating, maybe fingering Allen's ass, or helping KK jack him off. To be sure there had been rumor and innuendo that KK had cheated on me before; at least two events, neither of which I witnessed. A movie date and a drunken Memorial Day sex on the beach debacle. I brushed them off as gossip, rumors started by rivals, and so on.

In the weeks, months, and even years after that night, I sometimes found myself masturbating, recalling the memory, the experience of it all. Most times I squirted my cum, ejaculating with a sense of shame and perversity at the thought of KK and Allen fooling around in the back of my parent’s station wagon. Some of my most explosive masturbatory orgasms occurred while imagining the variant scenarios, particularly one. In that fantasy, I imagined KK lying on one side of Allen, while they passionately kiss. Laurie is lying on Allen's other side, sharing Allen's cock with KK, their small hands fondling his balls, stroking him, bringing him toward orgasm. The twist is that everyone in the station wagon is awake and watching.

Those jack-off sessions lead to absolutely mind-bending, ball-draining orgasms. To this day, I still on occasion feel a little guilt and shame over how intensely aroused that event made me.
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