The Hike
you tell your husband it’s a conference in Utah, good old non-threatening Utah. I tell my wife there’s a 77 Lincoln continental town coupe I’m interested in buying and I have to see it for myself.
Now, you and i are walking in the desert. we're trying to find a good place for a picnic. there's a blanket and a bottle of red wine in my backpack. we find a valley where rock cliffs are on one side, burgeoning sunset on the other. it's hot, pleasant breeze. i spread the blanket on a flattish stretch of sandstone near some juniper. we sit, take in the sights, smile at each other, laugh at the fact we haven't spoken to each other in a bit. the sights have left us speechless.
i open the wine, spill a little over my hand. we both laugh. i lick a little off, then offer it to you. you take my hand and wrap your lips around the edge of my palm, breathe hot breath onto my skin. i lean in and our foreheads touch, smiling. "the wine?" you ask. "oh yes!" i get back to the task, pour in the less-than-elegant plastic cups. we clink them (or clunk them) and i swallow my mouthful, you don't, you puff your cheeks out and have a strange look on your face. you beckon and lean in. immediately you kiss me, part your lips and let the wine flow into my mouth. i kiss you back harder, open my mouth wide and accept your wine and your tongue as we fall backward onto the blanket.
the weather is perfect. we kiss and my hands slide beneath your shirt. you arch your back as my hand glides over your stomach and up to your chest. with my other hand i undo your bra from the back. with a bodywave shrug, it slides free and i touch your tender warm breasts, your nipples firming up. you let out a moan and kiss me harder. i break the kiss and lick your neck, plant several kisses on the way to your ear. at the same time, your hands have moved down to my belt and zipper. you rub the growing mass under the cloth, teasing me before you unbutton, unzip, and slide your hand down to discover my firm, smooth cock. a bead of wetness on the tip has gotten on your thumb and your palm, which you use to pump me into a frenzy.
i glide my hands down and undo your shorts. you stretch up on your toes while i push down your cloth and panties. as it bunches at your ankles, you gingerly step out of them, rotate your body around and lower your nethers down onto my mouth. i lick and taste you, grabbing your thighs, dragging my tongue up and back, breathing hot breath and glistening your warm, tender divide. you let out a gasp and lower yourself your mouth onto me, humming out the remainder of your breath, which causes me to hum my pleasure into you. i taste you, i lick you, i want you.
you rise up from me and we kiss again, tongues swirling in a heated and heavy delirium. you claw at my shorts to get enough access as you lower yourself onto me. your vulva is pulsing and wet, my cock flows into you as if there's nothing we need do but join and connect. we lay like that for a moment, then we begin to move in rhythm, up and down, our bodies becoming a the most beautiful factory machinery of flesh. our pulses quicken, our breath comes in desperate moans as we increase our speed. i look into your eyes and you into mine. we see an expression like pain, but it's ecstasy, a gathering of sensation so wonderful it doesn't have words yet. your eyes widen, then clamp shut as you climax, once, then another smaller one like an encore, as you still bounce up and down, but in slower increments. i feel the walls of your vagina flex and release as you pant and moan. a shiver goes through you as you collapse onto me and we embrace. a cool, clammy but pleasant feeling as our sweaty bodies press together in post-coital bliss.
we lay like that for what seems an hour. when we open our eyes, it's much darker and there's a tremendous sunset splashed across the vista. we barely touched the wine. we gather up and walk back to the car, smiling and in silent knowledge, the place, that valley, a witness to our tryst, and no one else, least of all our partners.