Returning her attention to the tip, firming her grip and tonguing the soft rim of his mushroom, she knew he was getting close. Her hand rubbed the base of his co**ck while she very gradually moved her mouth up and down on him, accentuating the sensation of the roof of her mouth, her tongue and her lips, pumping him with her hand and hoping that she could give him the same pleasure he’d so beautifully given her just moments ago.
One of his hands touched her head, stroking her hair encouragingly, the fingers trying to tell her something she already knew—this was good. Great. Amazing. She took her time to extend his pleasure, for making love on this blanket at the top of a mountain, jet trails above them the only testimony to civilization, was a once-in-a-lifetime event. She wanted to make it perfect.
She continued this motion, going gradually faster and faster as his fingers tightened in her hair. She gently touched his balls, knowing she was on the right track when she began to taste him as he released that little drop of fluid, and she groaned with enjoyment. She took him into her mouth as far as she could, as her fingers clutched the base of his co**ck while continuing to stroke it, his athlete’s body tensing and clamping without regard for anything but the pending release.
She blew more air on the sensitive skin while milking him, and he groaned, neck muscles tense with the agony of holding back. She was ready to give him the release he so desperately needed and licked her palm to get ready for more when a firm hand covered hers.
“No. Not like this. I want to be in you,” he commanded. It wasn’t a request. Laura was more than ready to comply, but he beat her to it.
He searched for her clit, finding her willing again. “You make me want to take you right here, right now, in the wild open, Laura.” A completely new wave of arousal came out of nowhere, slamming her, making her want to f**k him for the rest of time. Or, at least, for the next hour. She wanted to straddle him, to ride him, to feel that Greek-God body on top of hers, to be together and come together and so much more.
“Climb on me, Laura. I want to touch you,” he said, pulling her gently onto his hips. She was so wet as she reached beneath her, straddling his hips now, the little scalloped edges of muscle where his abs met his hips too tempting not to touch. As her fingertips brushed there he shivered and nudged her just so— making the tip of him go in her. It felt like sinking into the perfect, hot bath, like the first bite of a chocolate torte in a cafe in Paris, like—so cliched!—like coming home.
To a home you didn’t know you had.
He pulsated and she moaned with pleasure as her thighs hit his balls. “You are so amazing,” she moaned. Her entire body stretched up, catlike, her brea**sts thrusting forward and instantly covered with his enormous palms, the feeling of his fingers pinching her nipp**les like a direct, hot route to her clit. Something zinged on her arm, then again on her thigh, and she felt more inside her pus**sy walls, her body overcome with little zaps that hurt, then faded.
As she rocketed herself up to the mushroom cap, the friction made her shiver, growing an orgasm that felt like it might just very well be more supernova than any before. He licked one hand and stroked her nipple, then repeated on the other side, the pale pink skin pebbling at his touch, making her throat tighten and her passage wetter than she thought it could be. He was making her G-spot scream for attention. She shifted, changing her weight distribution, then drew him all the way out to the tip, clamped her pussy, hard, then impaled herself.
“How did you—What are you doing?” he groaned. “Do more,” he urged, his hips thrusting up to catch her now, the rhythm clear. He was close, and so was she. She was at a loss, the feeling too intense.
Mike took charge, his hands on her ass, guiding her in rhythm as he used his glutes and thigh muscles to push up, then pull back. If he angled her hips just so, he could hit her—
“Ah, God, right there, Mike!” she gasped. She needed to touch herself, as he widened her pleasure zone by stretching his legs open a bit. Sitting up, she gave herself access to her clit, a bit shy. Some guys didn’t like it when she touched herself, but—
“Yes,” he urged. “Take the pleasure you deserve, Laura,” he added, kissing the hand that had just touched her clit. She grinned and parted the soft, thick skin of her mons, finding her clit standing at attention and ready for explosion. A few strokes down to her hot cave, where Mike thrust in and out and moaned and clenched, and she had liquid to move and circle, to—
She ground into him, the feeling so maddening, pounding beautifully into her cervix. And then she just...tipped over. That was it, and the release was there with very little warning, her hitched breath and sudden clamping the only clue poor Mike had. “Oooooohhhh!” she moaned. She hollered and wriggled and thrust back, hot cream and sex bursting as their juices flowed, gushing.
“The heat! You are so warm, so—” Fading out, Mike’s voice disappeared but he bucked up, fucking her hard and fast as he drained himself of his orgasm, too, their bodies twitching and pushing against each other to use whatever the laws of physics would give them. Her body made her come repeatedly, her flesh too weak to manage anything but release.
He pounded and pounded, she slammed back, he stroked her belly, and took one hand to tweak her right nipple, the pain mixing with the thrusting and the explosion to make her scream an animal sound—and then it was just a tired feeling, all co**ck and slick and mouth.
They slowed, little clenches from the remainders of their sex slowing down. The sounds of nature filled her ears, layer by layer—birds. A buzzing. A pinch. She smacked a mosquito off her shoulder and then relaxed. Laura was still full of him as Mike relaxed, trapping her, their wetness and his muscled body all she felt now. She had no thoughts, her body surrendered, everything good, all complete, all chaperoned by the winking sun.
Neither said a word. Not one. By the time Laura realized they needed to leave, the sun had begun to set. Had they really just relaxed there, naked as the day they were born, for hours —just staring at each other, watching the clouds, feeling the wind whip their sated skin? Time disappeared, and as they reluctantly dressed in the sunset’s glow, she decided not to say anything until he did. Perhaps this was more spiritual than she knew possible, and speaking would end whatever this was.
Mike packed and carried all their gear in silence the entire walk down to the trailhead’s parking lot, where both their cars sat, expectant and a bit miffed, like parents of children new to the dating scene. Laura laughed at the sight of their abandoned cars, the only ones in the lot, and Mike just looked at her quizzically.
He remained silent, but stepped forward and kissed her cheek gently. “Third date?” he whispered in her ear. She grinned so widely her cheek hit his.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he whispered, then strode to his car, popped the hatchback, carefully placed the backpack and picnic goods, closed the trunk door and climbed in his car, watching Laura carefully.
By the time they both pulled out of the parking lot and made their respective turns, Laura’s face was covered with tears.
Some things were just too personal to share even with her best friend. Laura was going steadily mad and if the itching didn’t stop she was going to scream. Rubbing her butt against her kitchen chair wasn’t working, damn it— why on earth had she ever bought vinyl covered seats? With good old upholstery at least she could have scratched her butt in a way that gave her some friction—and some relief.
This itching was slowly penetrating her every conscious move, making her one big, non-stop twitch, and she’d only been conscious for an hour. Two cups of coffee hadn’t helped. Finally, Josie, who had finished four cups to Laura’s two, cocked her head and said, “What in the hell are you doing, Laura? You look like a nine-year-old boy who just had an ice cream fest and a few shots of espresso.”
“I am just not comfortable.” Understatement of the year. Rub rub rub.
“Did you pick something up from one of the two guys you fucked within twenty-four hours?”
Ouch. “Oh please, it wasn’t within twenty-four...and you can’t get...oh, I don’t even want to go there. Shut up, Josie.” She reached behind and scratched her ass.
“You’re scratching your as**s in public. I mean, man—”
“We’re not in public—we’re in my apartment.”
“I am public. I am a human being.”
“No, you’re not. You’re my best friend.”
“You...what is going on?” Now Laura couldn’t help herself and start to scratch her breast. Her nipple was throbbing with the hot, torturous itch that plagued her as**s as well. “Why on earth are you scratching your boob?”
“Because it itches.”
“Come on Laura, that’s not what I meant.” Josie’s exasperation showed in her tone and, finally, Laura couldn’t stand it anymore. She stood up, pulled her pants down, pulled down her underwear halfway and reached for the tube of hydrocortisone cream that she’d shoved in her purse to take to work.
“Laura, oh, my God.”
“What?” Laura twisted around and stared at her own ass. Yup. It wasn’t any better this morning. What had started out as a series of small mosquito bites was now a minefield of red, hot flesh, swollen up into these enormous hive-like bites. When she had returned home from her date with Mike, she’d realized pretty quickly what had happened. While making love outside in nature, in a field, on top of a mountain, with the most incredible view possible— both of nature and of Mike’s body— had been earth shattering, quite literally, the reality of nature had set in.
