A Cold Drive and A Warm Night: Chapter Thirteen

His hands on her rear-end startled her and she looked at him and realized that he was still dreaming but his hands felt so large, warm comforting there she relaxed into it.

She could feel them covering her entire rear-end pulling her forward creating a rocking motion, feeling to her, just like riding her pony when she was a little girl.

It was a gentle motion and she stared at him trying to decide if he was really asleep and dreaming or pretending to be asleep.

But she decided she didn’t really care. The situation was so wonderfully bizarre and otherworldly, that she realized that she felt alive and wonderfully connected to both him and the situation.

She remembered her riding Blackie, her pony, high into the hills above summer camp alone just the two of them; his labored breathing from the climbing, the saddle horn thumping against her center, the birds sang those days, the summer seemed endless.

She again adjusted her breathing to his breathing, her two hands still astride his diaphragm feeling that she could continue, and never stop.

His hands gently prodded her forward and then backward, her center, now gently thumping up against her own hands clasped at his diaphragm. It was arousing, so arousing.

Swaying back, his hands warming her rear-end and the gently thumping against her own outstretched fingers ever so gently thumping at her center.

She let her self get lost in the merely being there, in simply feeling the feelings.

The gentle rocking, gained in intensity as her body responded, as the rain outside grew in intensity, her breathing now deeper and growing, and she noticed his grew as well.

Now she rose up and let herself down upon her own hands beneath her and upon him, all the time pressing air out of his lungs, allowing a first wave and then another series of waves start to pour over her body. She could feel each wave move from her head and explode in her toes.

She was barely aware of any thing but the deep arousal, the feeling and when he put his hands just over hers below her body exploded, exploded as it shot out long pent up sexual feelings, the body lunging outside its body prison out into the world, into the room, into the small tent she had constructed above them; the breathing now  louder and louder as the wind outside whipped the rain against the cabin and his hands now placed above hers creating a snug fit and her entire body starting to shake from the sensation, her brain crackling, a shaking begining, a body quake; now sobs come, deep sobs, sobs of joy, of feeling released, sobs of sadness, too, for the times this never happened when she wanted it to, sobs of relief that she could let go, that she was not "inhibited" as some of her boy-friends had said she was, sobs for herself for the sense that she had been holding back, had been letting her mind hold her body hostage.

The sobbing made her entire body gush and she fell upon his chest crying softly and felt his hands reach up and around her-to envelope, to comfort her.
His eyes opened and softly closed.

To be continued.