My eyes slowly move down from her nipples, willing her hands to follow. They comply. Stroking down her belly. Click. Circling. Teasing. Click. Writhing. Click. Fingers darting just inside the waistband of her shorts. My turn to gasp. Click.
Such an exquisite tease she is. We just met a few hours ago, but already she knows just how to wind me up. She is going to feel the full force of just how taut she has wound me. Fuck. Click.
She turns, slowly, presenting her ass to me. Fuck, what a beautiful ass. Her hands trace over it. Her hands, her fingers becoming the embodiment of my eyes. Caressing. Stroking. Feeling exactly what I see, exactly what she is showing to me. Light caresses, gradually increasing in pressure. Click. Squeezing. Click. Kneading. Clutching. Fuck. Click. I can barely hold the camera still. Trembling with fucklust.
"Oh fuck, you have a beautiful bum. You know I followed behind you for a mile, just so I could stare at it, don't you? Could you feel me eyes on it? You knew. I could have caught up with you at any time, but I stayed back. Staring. Wanting. Craving. Aching to touch your ass. Squeeze it. Knead it. Feel your perfect cheeks pressed tight against me as I plunge into you, hard."
At this last, her knees almost buckle. So ripe for the picking, she is. I can fucking smell how wet she is.
She starts to lower her shorts. Slowly. Inch by tantalizing inch, revealing the luscious hemispheres of her ass to my eyes. To the lens. Click. Click.
Drip. Drip. I'm so focused on her flesh that I see them splash on her ass cheeks before I even feel them. Fat drops of rain. Fuck. My camera.
Without a word, without taking my eyes off of her more than strictly necessary, I move to place the camera in the tent. Zip it closed. Protected. But no more images. Fuck.
My disappointment, is fleeting, though, because she's not stopping, unfazed by the rain. Fabric still sliding. Revealing. Exposing. I should ask her if she wants to stop. Adjourn to my tent. Fuck her senseless to the crescendoing rhythm of the rain.
Fuck that. A little rain won't kill us. I can warm her up afterwards. Look at her. Look at the drops cascading down her flesh. So fucking beautiful. This girl. She knows exactly how to drive me wild. Instinctive.
I open my mouth to speak, to tell her how beautiful she is, but no words come out. We haved moved beyond words. I step closer. Close enough to touch. Aching to touch. To take. Mine.
But I don't. Not yet. This part of the dance isn't over yet. As her entire ass is revealed in all its glory, she yanks her shorts and panties down. Off. Glancing back over her shoulder. Watching me, watching her. Her hands slide wetly over her glistening, gyrating ass. Fuck. My eyes dart to hers, then back to her ass, unable to leave it. Devouring it, every detail.
She bends at the waist. Leans against a tree. Legs straight. Hands cupping her dripping ass. Squeezing. Kneading. Her small hands doing what my large hands want to do. Ass grinding, small tight circles. Dancing. Gyrating. Fuck. Can't breathe. It's only through sheer force of will that I am able to keep from reaching. Clutching. Taking. Fuck.
Still looking back, watching my every reaction. Her eyes are narrowed. Almost closed. As I fumble for my belt, though, they get wide. Pleading. Soft animal moan from her lips. I should tease her, but I can't. Too far gone for such niceties. Unbuckle. Unbutton. Unzip. Yank them off. Cock springing. Jutting. Taut. Frantically yanking my shirt off. Tossing aside, who cares where.
Her moans take on a plaintive tone. Please, her moans say. Please. Now.
As our fucklust builds in intensity, so does the rain. Pelting us now. Pouring. Drenching. Stinging her naked ass and lower back. My shoulders. Rivulets running, cooling our flushed skin, connecting the humming nerve endings.
With a growl and a hard convulsive shiver, I reach for her. Electric contact. Still contained, though. Just touching, not taking. Trembling. Sliding over her wet ass. Feeling. Investigating. Fingers traveling the path my eyes took. Wet globes. Warm crevice. Lower. Oh fuck. A different wetness. Slick. Slightly viscous. Fuck. Sliding in. Just a fingertip. Soft. Wet. Hot. Mine. Mine.
I withdraw. Pause. She moans. Pleading. Breathless. I move closer. Cock brushing the back of her thigh. Wet velvety cocktip. Wet thigh. Her thighs part. Ass arching. Begging now. Please.
Withraw again. Just then, I am struck by the feel of the cool rain pelting my hard cock. I can practically feel the drops steaming. Driving rain. An extension of our fucklust. Conduit for our hunger. We're not touching, but the rain is connecting us.
Moving in. Tip of my wet cock pressing. Poised. She pushes back, not even meaning to. Involuntary. Aching to be filled. My hand grip her waist, firmly. Hold her steady. Not yet. Holding here, just at her opening. Just the tip, pressing into her. Feel the rain, connecting. Running down her slit, mixing with her nectar, coating my cockhead. Dripping. Wet. Hot. Where does the rain stop and her juice begin? They are one and the same. The storm is our lust. Feeds our lust. Fed by our lust. Holding until the last possible moment, until I can't take it any more, until I have to be inside her. Have to.
With a hard, driving thrust, I plunge deep into her wet cunt just as a bolt of lightning flashes overhead.
