Page 109 of The Champion
“Oh—sorry,” He moved to sit next to me, the rustyhighlights in his hair sparkling from the light of the fire. It was a sweetgesture when his hand rose to cup my cheek and leaned in to kiss my forehead.“Honey, please get naked with me?”
“You’re such a knob.”
A few minutes later, we were both naked inside our tent.
“Can you scratch my ankle?”
“Yeah—sure,” so I scratched his ankle.
“Thanks.” he grunted pushing me forward to grasp my asswith his hand. I liked it, a lot.
To me, there’s nothing better than camping in the middleof nowhere and having hot dirty sex with your dirty heathen while the kids areoccupied.
Speaking of dirty, dirt was literally everywhere in thetent. And in Alabama, the dirt was more like clay and it sticks to you. I wasitchy and the dirt kind of felt nice chaffing against my skin.
“Can you scratch my back since you’re back there?”
“Yeah—where?”
“By my ass...ohyeah...right there.” His movementsdidn’t stop either and I’m not really sure what felt better, the scratching orhis movements, so I moaned. “Oh yes!”
“You like that?” he asked with a hint of arrogance. “Fuckyeah you do.”
“Yes!”
Suddenly he stopped. “Wait, what are you liking more, thescratching or the sex?”
How the fuck do I answer this one?They both feltgood but the combination of the two was what wasreallygood.
“Both.” I squeaked.
I heard him sigh and fall back on the ground.
“This isn’t working.” He started itching his armsobsessively like a junkie.
I scrambled on top of him to straddle his hips. “Yes itis working.”
“No it’s not. We itch and we look like we havechickenpox. You know how much I hate stuff on my skin and look at it!” His eyesclosed. “I want to go home.”
“So you don’t want to...”I swiveled my hips once, his back arched as his hands stopped itching and flewto my hips.
No more words were spoken as the dirty heathen took over.It was one of those times when you don’t say anything because you just have amission: getting done before the kids came back.
By the time we were done, we were sweating, covered inred clay and a few more bug bites.
“Ow!” Jameson yelled rubbing his leg. “Something bit me!”
I grinned.
“Was it a cougar?” I started laughing uncontrollably onthe floor of the tent. “Or maybe in was a shark.”
Holding his calf, he scowled. “No!”
“Come here.” I motioned for him to lie against my chest,still laughing. “Let the mama wizard see.”
He was hesitant but any chance at cuddling the funbagswas appealing to the dirty heathen, so he did. Examining his calf, above his sharkbite, there was a raised blotchy patch.
“Oh you poor thing,” I cooed running my fingers throughhis hair. “Are you going to be okay?” Despite my calmed tone, I was stilllaughing.
