Counting Stars

"One, two, three, four..." I've never seen so many stars in my life. We're hundreds of miles away from any cities, gazing up into a clear night sky, and I couldn't imagine anything more beautiful. There are dozens and dozens of tiny little stars that I never see back home, little dazzling sparkles dusting over the rich indigo darkness, combining to make the world overhead look just like that painting by van Gogh. And even though I know Leon is right and I'll never count them all, I feel like I have to at least try.

"Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen..." Leon is helping me, though. He told me to picture smooth, straight lines criss-crossing the sky, drawing from one horizon all the way back to the other. I can't see that far back-I'm keeping my head nice and still, just like he suggested, so that I don't lose track of where I'm staring. I don't even want to blink, not with so many stars to count. I'm starting down near the trees, all the way down on the left, just letting my eyes move from one star to the next and counting every single one in the first imaginary square.

"Thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight..." It's easier if I focus only on the stars. Leon told me not to think about his voice, just to keep my eyes on the stars and my mind on the numbers. If I do that, I won't lose track of either one of them-no matter what else is going on around me, I'll always be able to just keep going to the next star, the next number, and let my mind automatically total them up. It's such a simple thing to do, now that Leon is helping me. I'm so glad I came out here with him.

"Fifty-four, fifty-five, fifty-six, fifty-seven.." I didn't think it would be so nice, lying up here on the hillside on top of our sleeping bags and just watching the stars. Honestly, the only reason I said yes in the first place was that Leon was cute and I wanted an excuse to be alone with him somewhere way the hell away from any other people. I thought that 'stargazing' meant, well...I thought I wouldn't have my eyes open for very long, basically. But Leon's right. It's so beautiful. I don't need to think about anything but the sky right now. If anything else happens, I can let it happen.

"Seventy-two, seventy-three, seventy-four, seventy-five..." I thought it would get harder as I went on, but if anything, it's getting easier. My mind is focused like a laser, refusing to let anything distract me from my count. I'm counting out loud to make sure I don't lose my place, and it really helps. Even when Leon talks to me, I just sort of tune it out and let it slip to the back of my mind as I focus on the way that the numbers keep going up and up and up with every new star I see. I let my eyes drift from star to star to star, and nothing can break my concentration. It's almost relaxing. Like meditation.

"One hundred five, one hundred six, one hundred seven, one hundred eight..." It's so peaceful up here, just us and the stars. No cars, no sirens, nothing but Leon's voice in my ears and the night sky, and I'm not really even listening to Leon's voice. It's nice, don't get me wrong; he has that kind of mellow, smooth baritone that makes a woman shiver a little in a good way. But I don't really feel like moving much right now. I'm staying focused on the sky. On the numbers. Moving feels too much like work, too distracting. I just want to keep watching, allowing my head to stay perfectly still so I always see the same stars. It's getting hard to even think about moving now.

"One hundred twenty-one, one hundred twenty-two, one hundred twenty-three, one hundred twenty-four..." I'm paying less and less attention to my own body now. It's like I'm floating up into the night sky, leaving myself behind completely and letting my mind spread out among the stars. I can still feel everything that's happening to me-the little tickle of the grass under my fingertips where my hand is lying loose and limp, the cool night air on my face, the warmth of Leon's hand resting on my belly as he whispers in my ear. But it seems less and less important. All I need to do is keep focusing. All I need to do is keep relaxing. I don't even need to think about why anymore. I can just accept that it's happening.

"One hundred forty-seven, one hundred forty-eight, one hundred...forty-nine, one hundred fifty..." Like when Leon's hand slides down to the hem of my shirt and gently, effortlessly insinuates itself underneath the fabric to caress my skin. I can feel it, and I know it's happening, but I don't really think about it. Thinking about it means thinking about something other than keeping my count, and I have to keep my count. I know I do, because...because I do, that's all. So I just let Leon's touch happen to me. I let him inch the shirt up and up and up, exposing my smooth mahogany skin to the cool air. I let him pet my body while he keeps murmuring sweet words in my ear that I've long ago stopped listening to. I don't need to think about any of that. I've got my stars.

"One hundred eighty...eighty-two, one hundred eighty-three, one hundred 'n eighty-four, a hundred eighty-five..." I'm finding that it's easier to keep track of where I'm looking if I just let my eyes close down to little slits so that I only see a tiny section of the sky. It's such a nice idea, and it seems so familiar that I wonder for a moment if I didn't hear about it somewhere and just remembered it now. But every distraction makes it harder to remember the numbers, and I'm already having kind of a hard time with that because of the way Leon's hand keeps petting my belly in ways that make me want to squirm around and look at the wrong part of the sky. So I let the thought fall away and keep counting.

"Two hundred 'n twenty...two hundred 'n twenty-one, t-two hundred 'n... twenty-two, two hundred 'n twenny four..." It's weird-I feel like I'm totally focused, but at the same time my mind keeps drifting around in all sorts of funny ways. I know my eyes are locked tight onto the stars I'm counting, moving from one to the next to the next without ever stopping or looking away or even blinking. (I can't remember the last time I blinked, now.) And I know I'm keeping perfect track of the numbers as they go up and up and up. I feel so proud of the way I keep counting no matter what happens. It makes me feel good to keep counting, happy and warm and relaxed and peaceful. But I keep picturing Leon's hand, just a shade lighter than mine, caressing my belly and teasing its way under my shirt to play with my breasts. I keep thinking random thoughts about relaxing more, hearing without listening, listening without thinking to Leon's voice. I keep feeling so much warmth, so much pleasure, like it's pouring into my mind and making me drunk with happiness. It's hard to really sort it all out. It's so overwhelming I don't really want to think at all.

"...two hunnd forty, two hunnd forryone, two hunnd forrytwo, two hnnd forrthree..." I can hear the way my voice sounds in my ears, kind of slurred and sleepy, but it doesn't matter. I'm still counting, I'm still keeping track of the stars as my eyes slowly move from left to right across the tree line, and that's the only important thing right now. It doesn't matter that my jaw keeps wanting to hang open and it's hard to make the words come out right. It doesn't matter that I can feel myself drooling out of the corner of my mouth and I'm too relaxed to bother swallowing it back down. It doesn't matter that Leon's hands have found my nipples and he's pinching and rubbing them and making hot tingles shoot down right between my legs. I'm still counting. That's the only thing I need to do right now.

"...t-two hunnd...sevndysix...mmm, mhmmm, two hunnd...sendyseven, two, tuhh, two hunnd sendy eight, ohhh...two hunnd, sendy nine..." The words don't just seem like they're hard to say anymore, they're actually hard to think. They're sort of melting in my head, becoming fuzzy around the edges just like they sound in my voice. I keep getting my head fuzzed up with pleasure, because Leon's just relentless with those fingers of his. He won't stop. I mean, I'm not trying to make him stop or anything, because this feels really nice and no lie, it's kind of what I came up here with him for, but I didn't think it would feel so good that I would have trouble thinking about anything but how good it feels. He's rubbing my pussy through my clothes now and it's so fucking hot it's kind of breaking my brain a little. I know I can keep counting, but that's about all I can do when he's making me feel like this.

"...tunnn ninfor...nhh, mmmm...tunnninfiiiiIIIII! ...ohh, oh! T-tunn, tunn nin, ninsix...tunn ninseb..." I don't even know if Leon understands me anymore, but as long as I remember my numbers, it's fine. Everything's fine. Everything's better than fine-everything is wonderful. The higher the numbers go, the better I feel, and the better I feel, the more I want to relax and focus on the numbers. My body just keeps doing what it wants to do; my legs can spread as wide as they want, giving Leon as much room as he needs to keep going, keep making me feel better. His hands feel so warm on my pussy, hot like a fever compared to the cool night air. I kind of realize that means I'm naked from the waist down, but not because it's important. It's not like I was planning to keep my clothes on all night anyway. Leon can just keep right on playing with my clit like that so long as he doesn't mind me counting while he does it.

"...thunn thirr, tuhhh, tuhhhnnhhhh! ...thunn thirr, thunn thirrnn, guhhh, guhhh, thirrtoo..." It's getting harder and harder to concentrate on the numbers. Leon's got, he's got good fingers and a good voice. He's making me so fucking wet right now, I can't keep my hips from moving. I can't stop the pleasure. It's like it's pouring into my head, filling me up like warm honey until I'm drowning in sticky sweet warmth. And Leon, his words are the honey, he keeps dripping things into my mind and I can't remember what they are but oh fuck, they're making me so fucking horny, like he's twisting my thoughts around until all I want to do is beg to be his, his...I can't even think the next word, things keep popping into my head like 'good girl' and 'slave' and 'slut' and 'fucktoy' and every time I try to say no there's another one that sounds just like it and I can't keep saying no to all of them and count at the same time. His. All I want to be is his.

"Thhh...mhhh...fuhhhh...gnnnh..." I have to just think the numbers now. I can't talk anymore, it's too hard. My mouth just wants to moan now, and the words won't come out around the grunts and the groans I keep making whenever Leon plays with my cunt. He's so good at making me want to cum for him, and I know that some of that is the words he keeps putting in my head to make me all wet and horny and stupid with pleasure. God, that feels so fucking good, thinking about the way his fingers melt my brains right out through my pussy until I'm nothing but a need to get fucked. He can do this to me any fucking time he wants. As soon as I see it in my head, I'm lost in the idea, picturing him walking up to me and saying, 'Star light, star bright,' and putting me right back in this place in my head where I'm drunk on sex and all I want to do is open up for his cock. Like a good girl. Like a good slave. Like a good slutty fucktoy.

"Nnnnh! Nnnnnh! Ohhh! OHHHH!" He's inside me now, fucking me so hard that I can't even keep my eyes open. It doesn't really matter. I can still see the stars in my head, as long as I want to and as long as I need to, and the numbers keep going up and up and up as I cum and cum and cum. I can just keep counting every last star in my mind, letting each one take me deeper and deeper into Leon's words and his will and make me his good girl while he fucks my mind away. And even though I know Leon is right and I can always count higher and sink deeper...even though I know I'll never find that last star in my head that makes me perfectly blank for him...I have to try.

THE END