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"You're awful" I snap, smiling and swatting at you
playfully. "And where am I supposed to get changed, might I
"I'm a gentleman," you assure me. "I won't look."
"Oh," I answer, with a hint of disappointment. "What fun
"Is that a hint?"
"Maybe," I answer quietly as I climb over the seat into
the back. When I see that you aren't following, I sit down on
the bunk and look up at you.
"You know, you're just as soaked as me," I point out,
taking off my wet sneakers and socks. "I won't look if you
don't," I tease.
For a moment, as you are climbing over the seat to
join me, I get a rush of panic, uncertainty, but it isn't you,
it is just a reflex, but you see it and hesitate. I want to
tell you that it isn't you, that I want you so badly I could
scream, but, god, I can't manage to say that either.
"I'm not going to try anything..." you assure me.
We'll see about that, I think to myself, moving up
against you. Don't stop me, I think to myself, touching your
lips with my fingertip, tracing along them gently. I softly
kiss you neck. Then I open the button on your shirt, then the
next, and the next, until it is entirely opened, revealing
the soft dark hair across your chest, narrowing to a strip
that runs down across your flat stomach, down,...oh, would
I like to see where it stops,... and I plan to. But I've
waited too long for this, as have you, and I'm not going
to rush it one bit.
I pull the shirt up, untucking it, and then slide
the wet fabric down off the back of your shoulders, in a way
that leaves the shirt still on your lower arms, somewhat
limiting your movement, while I kiss you, first slowly on
the lips, then on your neck, your shoulder, your collarbone,
then your nipple, hearing you exhale deeply, shuddering
ever so slightly. I smile up at you for a second, then
return to the point of my attention, ever so lightly
sucking and then tracing my tongue over that sensitive
You lean back on the bunk, sighing deeply,
and I follow you down. turning my attention to the other
nipple, hearing you moan quietly, and at the same time
feeling you stiffen inside your wet jeans, pressed
to my stomach. I sit up, my one thigh pressed to your fly,
and the way it feels, the way it is turning me on, I
can't even begin to describe. But I think you can figure
it out, by the way when your hands come up hesitantly
beneath my breasts, I lean forward against them. Then your
fingers find the first button on my dress, then follow
down until it is open clear to the top of my panties. You
pull your arms free from your sleeves, reaching up and
sliding your hands between the wet fabric and my skin,
sending chills up my spine. Then up, over my bra, to the
short sleeves, sliding them off my shoulders and down,
and the wet dress crumbles around my hips. Then slowly,
your hands encircle my back, tracing across my skin,
searching for the clasp to my bra, which comes open with
a snap. You slip the straps off my shoulders, I pull my
arms free, feeling the wet fabric fall away, exposing
my damp skin to the cool air. My nipples are hard, part
from the chill, but more in anticipation of your warm
touch, which I don't have to wait long for. Again I
feel you straining under the restriction of the jeans,
and deliberately I shift my weight back, so that my
thigh can rub against the bulge, delighting in the idea
that is there because of my actions, while you slowly trace
your hands over my breasts.
You sit up, bringing your mouth up to my nipple while
your hand pushes up the hem of my dress, your fingers rubbing
slowly on the sensitive area on the back of me knee. Then up
further, along the inside of my thigh, drawing closer to my
panties, while at the same time your gentle sucking at my
nipples is sending waves of pleasure through my body, and
I can feel my uterus contracting in response to this
stimulation. Then your fingers trace over the fabric
covering my bush, and I let out a quick gasp. The crotch
is soaked, but not with the same cold dampness, but a
warm moistness, and your fingers work over the area, and
my head spins with pleasure.
Slowly, as I build the nerve, I trace my hand
down over that line of hair on your chest, brushing my
fingers over your stomach, reaching the first button of
your jeans. Your hand leaves its warm spot, comes up,
takes hold of mine. I look at you questioningly.
"You don't have to do this if you don't..." you begin.
I smile softly.
"I want to. Any objections?"
"Are you sure?"
Now I laugh, and you grin. You know I want this.
Your hand releases mine, moves up, brushes my cheek gently.
You lean forward, your lips touching mine lightly, softly,
parting, and I gladly submit to a deliciously deep, tender
Your mouth moves away, only an inch, and I feel your
breath warm on my face as you whisper "I want you."
I hug you, burying my face against your neck, and
feeling the wonderful sensation of my bare breasts against
the soft hair on your chest, feeling your warmth.
"I want you too," I tell you, though you know whether
I say it or not. My hands slide down along your ribs, a little
lower... and I start tickling you mercilessly, laughing as
you giggle uncontrollably, twisting this way and that. Of
course you immediately retaliate, your hands slipping over
my bare flesh while I try to escape this assault, though
enjoying every second of having you touching me in places
you had never before touched, struggling playfully against
you... then your hand brushes my breast and instantly we
both pause, our eyes meeting. You reach up and smooth where
my hair has fallen in a disarray around my face, and the
expression on your face is so intense, so intent suddenly.
"I want you," I tell you. "I want to feel you
inside me. I want to be so close to you, as close as we
can be. As close as you are in my heart."
You smile, I believe understanding what I am trying
to say even better than I am able to put into words. I move
towards you, kissing you again, starting slowly, softly,
then tracing my tongue along yours, exploring the warmth
inside your mouth, sensually imagining the things we will
be doing, the things I had imagined doing those nights when
I curled up alone, sliding my hand down into my panties and
imagining that it was your hand, your touch, exploring,
caressing. Somehow, as if reading my mind, or perhaps
simply cued on by the motions of my tongue, your hand
slid down, pushing up the hem of my dress, squeezing the
back of my thigh. Immediately you feel the intensity of my
kiss increase, encouraging you that your touch is indeed
Your fingers move higher, and beneath the kiss
you feel me draw in a deep breath, then sort of quietly
moan, my tongue slowly tracing circles around yours. I
feel your other hand join the first, tracing up my thigh
to my hips, and while I'm enjoying the feel of your
fingers across the outer edges of my belly, there are
other places, so close, screaming to be touched. As if
sensing the heat, your one hand dips down, brushing over
the damp fabric covering my bush, and I shudder with
pleasure. But just as quickly your hand moves away, and
you can feel my kiss falter for a second. I want you to
touch me more!!
Your hands move up again, over my hips, and then
I feel your thumbs hook beneath the elastic, and at the
same time you feel my kiss intensify once again as I
feel the light cotton being eased down off of my rear.
But even this you are taking slowly, working it for
all it's worth. Your one hand moves back, fingers
sliding down along the crack of my ass in a way that
is both startling and arousing, while your other hand
strokes down over my bush.
I break the kiss now, I gasp for air, and see
you smiling at me with satisfaction. As you move the
panties down further, your hands meeting between my
legs, and I feel the pressure of your fingers, touching
gently, slipping through the wet hair, warm and inviting.
Yes, to make certain there is no question, your touch
is only too welcome, you feel me shift, moving my thighs
apart, leaving more room for your hands to explore,
while the expression on my face is one of distinct
pleasure, arousal. You need no more encouragement as
that, and I feel your fingers part my lips, trace gently
over my clit while your other hand gently squeezes the
cheek of my ass.
I moan appreciatively, shuddering at the incredible
sensation assaulting my senses, and slowly your fingers
rub in small circles over me, just the right amount of pressure, and I can't help but start to rock my hips, adding to the gentle, insistent
touch of your fingers. Then I feel your other hand move,
I feel your fingers stroking lightly along my entrance,
tracing through the slippery wetness, then slowly entering
me, and I make a quiet cry of pleasure, pressing down
against your hands.
Should I finish????