Page 2 of Dirty Diana
I smile and hold you tighter.
“And what are we doing?”
I laugh. “With our lives or in the moment?”
You kiss me, biting gently on my bottom lip. “Both.”
“We’re camping.” Then I add, “And we’re also out here having sex. Lots of it.”
“Mmm, right,” you murmur, still kissing me.
“And maybe hiding out from the world.” I drape a leg across you, then my whole body. “Or maybe no one’s looking for us.” Maybe it’s only the owl watching over us.
Your hands move down my back, sliding beneath my pants. “We need these off,” you say.
I smile and lift my hips so you can undress me. “And definitely these,” you say, and together we slip off my underwear so we’re both naked.
“Are you still cold?”
I spread my legs in answer, just slightly, so I can brush the warmest, softest part of me against your erection.
You tilt your head back in pleasure and grip my hips. “I like hiding out with you.”
“Me too.” I kiss the stubble along your cheek. You pull me even closer and your guttural moans fill the tent.We’re also falling in love,I add, but not out loud.
I hook my legs around yours, then skim my body along yours. I need you inside me. It’s no longer a desire, but a need. I inch my bodyup higher and I tilt my pelvis forward so the tip of your penis enters me. “Wait.” You hold me by the hips. “Let me touch you first.”
You gently ease on top of me, your forearms pressing into the ground beside us. I spread my legs wider. But you shake your head no. “Don’t move.” You pin my wrists above my head. A wave of heat rolls through me and I shift underneath you, hoping to feel your hardness inside me. You shake your head again. “No moving,” you whisper.
You let go of my wrists and trace your hands down my sides. My hands are free, but I keep them exactly as they are. I close my eyes. We’re both somewhere else now, floating in a kind of feverish dark where the only thing I can concentrate on is following your directions toward the depths of our pleasure.
Kissing the hollow of my throat where it meets my chest, you cup my breasts. Then you kiss my nipples. They’re erect beneath your lips. You slip two fingers inside me and I know you can feel how swollen I am. I can’t help it, my hand grabs for yours. “Please,” I whisper. “I want to fuck you.” But you keep your hand where it is, moving your fingers in slow circles.
“I want you inside me,” I say.
“Trust me.”
At the sound of your voice, deep and hungry, a fullness builds in me, a pressure that only you can release. Or maybe it’s that no one has ever tried like you to become so intimate with the geography of my body.
The fuller I become, the more I want to wriggle away. I fight the urge to pull at your hand and a molecule inside me awakens. Will it evaporate or build, I wonder.
It flits away, and I take the time to catch my breath.
“Stay with it,” you whisper in my ear.
I arch my back and push deeper into you. Your stubble scratches my cheek, leaving a sting. This time the molecule returns, and now it’s multiplying. My mouth opens and I breathe faster and harder.
“Trust me,” you say. “You’re so close.”
My hips move with your hand, urging you to press harder, stay longer, keep going until I can melt against you.
“You’re so close,” you repeat, as if you know my body better than I do.
I move against you until I’m about to shatter. “I’m going to come.” Declaring it out loud gives my body permission. I let my head fall backward. I scream into the desert sky.
You smile, kissing me hungrily, and I know then that we are not done.
My body trembles. “What was that?” I ask.
