Peter sat in front of the campfire, now diminishing to hot cools, he poked it with a long stick. The fire wasn't necessary, more a camping custom. It was a warm August evening and by all predictions would say that way. He looked down at the five remaining cold Leinenkugel beer cans and secretly thought how the night might `heat up' but also wondered if he would be finishing the six-pack on his own. Leaning his head back to take another swig of beer, his gazed moved across the thousands of stars in the sky, across the Ursa Major and Ursa minor, passed Orion with his belt and the red star Aldebaran, through and Milky Way and across Cassiopeia. Then he saw a shooting star. He remembered the Pereid meteor shower usually peaked around the second week of August. He smiled inwardly as the memory of the first time he saw a shooting star streaked through his mind. He was just 7 years old visiting his grandparents in Wisconsin, sitting out on their pier and watching the stars. He remembered the feeling of awe, watching that brief yet fantastic display of celestial light. He was young and innocent then, dreaming of the future. Now he sat by the dying fire thinking of the more immediate future. He wondered if Carmen got his message. It had been rather short, in after thought maybe too cryptic. It was just a time, a date, a location (including the campsite number) and that she wear practical shoes and a smiley. The request to wear practical shoes wasn't really necessary, but sometimes Peter had the habit of stating the obvious. It was his way of reminding himself of the obvious.
Peter had planed this rendez vous for the past month. He reserved this particular camp site at the Warren Dunes State Park because he knew it to be at the end of one of the more secluded paths in the camp ground. It was just north of Mount Randall, the 240 foot high dune that as a teenager he had climbed dozens of times. Sheltered from the winds by the huge dune to the south, this camp site had a magnificent view of Lake Michigan. Just as when he was 7 and dreamed of the future, he now sat before the campfire dreaming of the more immediate future when he heard a car approach the site. An excitement built in his chest as adrenaline leapt into his veins. He could hear the engine and the crunch of the tires on the gravel as the car grew closer. He sat motionless as its headlights swept over his back, his small Northface tent and rest of the tiny camp site. Then the car engine turned off and the lights went out. He heard the door open and he imagined a leg stretch out of the car to the ground. The image of her beautiful leg sprang clearly into his mind. The firm, shapely calf stretching to the sandy soil. He pictured the leg being covered at the top by a pair of tan shorts and he mind wondered to what might be beneath them. Then he heard both legs touched the ground and the car door closed. He heard her foot steps approaching him and he stood up, stretched to his full 6 foot 5 inch height and turned to face her. He could just make out what looked to be the sleek shape of a Corvette, but what interested him was the shadowy figure, bathed in the warm rosy glow of the coals of the fire that was walking toward him.
When he reached Carmen, he reach forward and ran his right hand through her long red hair, thick like the mane of one of Assateague island's wild horses. He bent down to put his right cheek against hers. They stood together in an easy embrace, casting a single shadow in the glow of the campfire.
"Woof," he whispered in her ear and he heard her say, "meow." Savoring the moment of their first touch, they remained rooted in the same spot feeling the growing heat of their bodies. Then he pulled his head back and kissed her lips, a kiss as hot as the coals of the camp fire. Peter's heart beat raced and his groin ached as her breath quickened. Their tongues danced together to the beat of their hearts. His right hand slid down the back of her supple neck, along the valley in the middle of her back, lightly touch it as it left a trail of goose bumps. His hand paused in the small of her back, cupping it and pulling her closer to him, savoring her warmth. Then his hand went to her hand at his side and held it as he guided her through the dim light into the little camp. When they entered the camp he stopped at the edge of a blanket spread out at the edge of the fire pit. Then he knelt in front of her and saw she was wearing a sarong, not shorts as he had imagined. He wondered what other surprised lay ahead. He ran his hand down the back of her smooth, left leg, as she gazed out across the lake. A shimmering path lead across the lake to the setting moon. A setting moon that in its waning phase was a crescent the shape of a C, her first initial. Peter's hand continued down the length of her leg, passing the hollow behind her knee until it reached her firm calf. The he lightly grasped it, to lift her leg and with his other hand he removed her shoe. He smiled, it was a practical shoe. As he did this he crouched lower to kiss the arch of her foot. She gasped at the light sensation of his tongue tracing the upper limits of her foot and at that moment she saw a streak of light divide the night sky and pierce the crescent moon.
Then Peter gently set her left foot down on the thick blanket and moved to lift her right leg. As he did a glint of light caught his eye as an ankle chain draped across her lovely ankle. This too, he had not pictured in his minds eye, but its thin trail of glittering light increased his arousal. While he removed her right shoe, he crouched and this time kiss her ankle tracing the path of the thin gold chain over the top her ankle and around its sides with his tongue. Then he ran his tongue along the top of her right foot as his finger traced the curves below its arch. Placing her bare foot on the blanket Peter stood and with a sweeping motion of he arm across the sky he said,
'In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
