by QwriterWe arrive at the campsite, hot, sweaty and tired. We are road weary but excited surrounded by so much freedom. We will spend these day's sky-clad. Our souls blessed through every pore.
Ancestral energy permeates the air. I take the ritual bath, and accept the offered blessing. I liberate a rock from the ceremonial fire and wash it in the sacred lake. Something soft hatches in my heart. I am willing to be free.
Breakfast
Food for thought.
Day is breaking. The air is misty, cool. In this predawn hesitation, the world is ours to do with as we please. Our cabin is quiet. Only the sound of our breath moves the air. We huddle together under one sheet. Our cabin-mates have no idea what their dreams are witness to. It is wickedly thrilling to have an audience. Awake or not they are an audience. I'm on vacation. I want to break all the rules.
I tell her I want something different for breakfast, something to sanctify my appetite. She allows me to help her out of her night shirt.
I roll her around my mouth, and under my tongue. Gently, I bite down. I sink my teeth only deep enough to feel resistant flesh. I want to savor the briny taste, the texture, the earth's tone. I want to relish this satisfaction for as long as I can. I use my tongue to probe the small opening, then suck the little bubble into my mouth. She cums hard, then cries.
We go out to the pool, slide naked into the crisp water. Some of the others are already engaged
in volleyball. We join the game. It's the big tits against the little tits. The little tits win.I've never been naked in public before. I like it. I like the freedom of the wind on my
skin. This freedom is deeper than skin. Something new and as old as time has been unloosed in me.
We get out of the water, wrap up in our towels. I perch on the grass. My baby is standing over me. I'm feeling soft, femme. We are in sync. She intuits my needs and offers to get me a cold drink. I try to decide what kind of drink I will have. I try to decide if I should have the water I need or the soda I want. She brings me both, then settles down on the grass between my knees. She runs her hands through her dreds. I love that. Her dreds are a mane of mother earth.
I snuggle my fingers to her scalp, root out the shape of her skull hidden in the forest of her dreds. My fingers straighten branches of woven hair from nape of neck to crown. She reclines against me. I spread her wild oak and vine, drape the locked hair 'cross my lap. I massage her scalp. She purrs. I finish off my soda.
My thirst is quenched, but now I hunger for something else. I taste her mouth, swing my leg over her head, grab her hands and pull her to her feet. We lock fingers, eyes, minds, link our arms and head toward our cabin, hip bouncing against hip, we drift away.
Lunch
Body parts
She works out, pumps iron, that's why her breasts are so firm, tho breast development is not her intention. She wants muscle, straight up butch babe muscle. Strong pecks. The breast action is just a by-product. I like her arms, nice cuts. The pumping pays off. She easily pulls me across our sheets. She kicks up every molecule of my femme shit. Yeah, I like her arms.
My pussy has a mind of its' own. Greedy, my pussy is greedy and impatient. I don't know if I want her to do me or me to do her. I only know I want to fuck or be fucked. My pussy can't make up its mind. My hips are heavy, my thighs loaded. I want. I sit up against the head of our bunk. She sits between my legs, then slides down, her back to me. Her head is against my belly.
My hips are heavy, my thighs loaded. I want.
Her head lolls back against my stomach, exposing lush throat, the hollow of her neck, cleavage and mountain swell. I go for it. My finger tip tastes swollen flesh. My lips have gone dry. I lower my head. Mouth breathes mouth. I suck her tongue.
Our shadows blush in the sun light. She allows me to softly undress her. I invent each inch of her again for the very first time. We are alone in the cabin. Our room mates are out now, sky bathing.
She curls fetal like into a ball. I wrap my body 'round hers. I, I am a heat-seeking missile. I fasten her to my skin, bury my face in the shelter of her hair, arrange my breath to match hers, life to life force. We are arms, legs, mouths and wombs in the midday light. She pry's me open. She belongs here in my Egypt.
Dinner
Bottom's Up
There is a full moon tonight. The mystery of her pussy fascinates me. I lie between her legs gazing at her midnight magic. Her lips are plump, full and slick. She likes quick licks.
I like a slow suck. Tonight she gets her way. I want to please her. I want her soft and vulnerable, the way I usually am with her. I want her softly open. Tonight I want the Holyland.
My energy is different, mannish. It doesn't happen often. Tonight, this night, it's up and I want in. I really love her pussy. It is beautiful. She hates when I say that stuff. However, her pussy truly is beautiful. I love it when she is spread out like this all big and long and open. And I, I become bitch and butch in one slick movement.
She likes quick licks. I like slow sucks. She gets her way. She rises up and bears down at the same time. Her thighs become vise-like headphones. When the tidal wave ebbs, the headphones soften, the music becomes sweet, yielding. My thighs ache. This is more than about a fuck. It is deeper than pussy. This, this is communion.
I slip my fingers into the blind vault, the hidden valley. She is panting. One finger, then three. Her pussy slides open. She is panting, quick hot little doggy breaths. Her hinges unlatch, four fingers, then five and I am in. I'm charged, crazed, blessed. She fits like a glove. I explore the moist alley, the secret cave, the nest. I am at home in the Holyland.
We catch cadence, open a portal in the universe, rock, grab a steady rhythm. A burst of heat to my heat. A hit of light to my light. A hint of air in the air. Yeah, I love her pussy.
Tonight, we are the way.
