She grabbed the sides of his head to guide him where she wanted, but he needed no guiding. He knew just where to go. Quickly he found her swelling clitoris, flicking at it with his tongue. He was like a madman as he lapped and sucked. ‘Oh fuck,’ she said in desperation, uttering the first words either of them had said since they started. She sat up and quickly undid her bra. Her breasts fell free and she said, ‘I want your hands on my tits.’ Happily he obliged. With his tongue working magic on her pussy and his hands working magic on her nipples, she felt a monster begin to growl deep inside of her. Waves of pleasure began to emanate out from her pussy to every inch of her body. She cried out loud breathlessly, falling back on the bed. She arched her back and grabbed the sheets with her hands. Another attack swept over her. He was relentless, never stopping, as she groaned in pleasure and ecstasy. When the third wave hit, she grabbed his hands and they intertwined fingers. She. I felt something oddly cold on my back, then a rush of water came down the hill, toward my log, toward me. I didn’t move as it rushed over my back, my lap, my hair, soaking me. I simply laughed. He stood there, taking pictures, telling me that I was beautiful, that he’d never seen anything like it, or known anyone like me. He walked into the water, not caring that his worn black shoes were soaking through to his socks, that the water was creeping up his jeans, that we were a mess. He wanted a better picture. He wanted a picture of my laughter, my almost child-like delight, at the fact that I was completely soaked and without a towel. I don’t know what it was about that place. It was in this place that we shared a stolen kiss, murmurs of devotion, a perfect friendship blooming into more. It was in this place that he touched my soul with his charm, stole my heart and made it his. In this place, everything was beautiful, everything was perfect, as it should be. I’m convinced that it is.
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