We're in the tent, in our separate beds. I'm lying on my side, facing towards you, but you're facing away from me.
"Will you...spoon, with me?" you ask so quietly I can barely hear you.
"Of course," I say as I scoot closer. I drape an arm over your midriff and try not to press my body too much against your back. I'm afraid you'll feel my nipples poking you. Plus, I try not to get my hopes up. You're probably just missing your husband. You're not used to falling asleep without someone else in your bed like I am. Still, my heartbeat speeds up against my will, allowed to be touching you at all...
After several minutes of awkward silence, you put your hand on top of mine. Another long pause ensues before you ask...
"Will you touch me?"
I'm glad you can't see my eyes widen in the dark. But, I'm sure you can feel my body tense. I've wanted to touch you for so long, but never really thought I'd hear you say the words. I prop myself up a bit on my other arm so I can hear your answer to my question.
"Are you sure?" I practically whisper. You simply nod your head in agreement. I want to kiss the side of your neck, your cheek, so bad, but I refrain for now, not sure if that's included in said touching.
You let me move my hand to one of your breasts, kneading its fullness gently. I feel your nipple harden and can't resist pinching it a little. I hear quiet sounds of approval coming from you in the dark. I move to the other breast and show it the same slow attention, still a little afraid you're going to change your mind at any moment and regret everything.
Instead, you take my hand again and move it underneath your silky top and slowly back to one of your breasts. My heart skips a beat finally feeling the breasts I've been daydreaming about for months. I squeeze a little more vigorously now. Your breathing was already becoming hard before, but now I feel you arch your back slightly at my touch. I twist and tweak your nipples, taking turns with each, wanting to feel them inside of my mouth so badly. I briefly wonder if you're getting as wet as I am.
As if reading my mind, you take my hand again and guide it beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. My heart skips a beat again and my breath hitches as I trail my hand down between your legs, still having a hard time believing this is really happening.
I rub two fingers along your slit on the outside of your underwear. I catch myself thinking about plunging them into you, wondering how slippery you are because of me. I feel the heat radiating from you even through the cloth. But I'm greedy and want to know just how hot you are.
"Touch me," you tell me again, practically begging, and force me to rub you more vigorously.
I push my luck and slip the two fingers inside of your panties, tentatively rubbing along your opening. I'm secretly pleased by how wet you are, my fingers easily gliding up and down, up and down, teasing your folds. Your breathing is ragged at this point, longing for me to do more. You reach down and take control of my hand again impatiently, forcing my fingers inside of you at last as you let out a true moan.