Something To Talk About (closed)

[Arioso]

The drive up to the state park where Brenda had mapped out a good, scenic hike took only a few hours, but they were some of the most enjoyable hours she'd had all week. Despite the tension and anxieties that had plagued her ever since her roommate got her to thinking about her feelings for Paul, it felt just like old times, like they were back to being Brenda and Paul again. Paul kept the trip from getting dull by cracking jokes, haggling with her over the choice of music on the radio, and teasing her a little about flunking calculus.

Keeping in the spirit of things, Brenda fired back that she'd gladly flunk calculus if it never meant having to "study" with Jason again. She and Paul shared a good half hour of laughs at Jason's expense after that, whereupon Paul offered her the obvious solution.

"You know, Brenda, you could always have come to me if you wanted help."

It brought a blush to her cheeks. Why hadn't she done that in the first place?

"I know," she admitted sheepishly, feeling rather stupid. "That's what I should have done, and I don't know why I didn't. I guess I just always try to do things on my own...and the only reason I agreed is that...well, Jason offered, and I didn't really know him well enough to realize I should avoid him like the plague."

"Like a gross, disgusting, oozing-puss plague!" Paul agreed with a wicked twinkle in his eyes. Brenda giggled, and he couldn't resist the urge to tease her a little further. "Always so independent. Even if it gets you whomped at dodge-ball."

Brenda cringed at that particular memory. They'd both been in first grade, an age when Brenda's home room teacher wearily sent home report cards informing Brenda's parents that she "did not play well with others". Somewhat of a loner who didn't see the point of rules, it came home to roost one day in a P.E. class when Brenda just started making up her own rules to doge-ball...and promptly got pelted with a shower of red rubber balls from her disgruntled class-mates.

Paul had sat with his arm around her afterwards and wiped her tears.

Shaking her head and chuckling at how well he understood her, she flashed him a sideways glance and asked, almost shyly, "Paul, would you like to help me study calculus some time?"

Quickly, she flicked her eyes back to the road, feeling as nervous as if she'd asked him out on a date. She hadn't really...although "studying" with Jason had turned into some sort of bizarre, dysfunctional "date". But asking Paul made her embarrassed and excited all at once. Unable to look down, since she needed to keep her attention on where she was driving, she could nonetheless feel her nipples tightening into erect, rigid little buds beneath the thin material of her thermal top. Oh great! She knew exactly how suggestive it was, though -- the car wasn't cold at all, yet she was sitting there with her pert, aroused nipples displayed almost as graphically as if she were wearing a wet tee shirt.

However, if Paul noticed, he was too considerate to make a big deal out of it. Instead, he simply replied, "I'd love to."

At last, they pulled into the gravel parking area at the trail head and unloaded their gear. Brenda spent a fair amount of time adjusting the straps on Paul's pack (he never seemed to be able to fit his pack to his form without some last-minute pulling and cinching on her part), then they signed the register and started off.

The trail was glorious. It followed the meanderings of a river first, before cutting off toward the slope of a mountain. As they began their climb, Paul and Brenda were treated to a spectacular view of the surrounding valley and the river they'd just left. Brenda found herself breathing deeply, as if she could drink in the scenery and keep it with her. And she practically glowed with happiness: here she was, with Paul, the one person who meant the world to her, enjoying one of her favorite activities.

By the time they reached the campsite, however, the weather was cooling noticeably. Where they'd had sunshine and blue skies in the early afternoon, now that dusk was approaching the clouds started rolling in and there was a definite chill.

When she slid her backpack off in preparation for setting up camp, Brenda shivered.

"You okay?" Paul asked, concerned.

"Yeah, just a little cold," she admitted, smiling at him reassuringly. "How about this? You pitch the tent, and I'll go string up a tarp for the kitchen area and hang some lines for hoisting our food up in a tree before we go to sleep. The sooner we can cook dinner, the sooner I can have a hot drink to warm me up."

"Sure, that works. You can borrow my jacket if you want to," Paul added, half stepping toward her as if to offer the jacket then and there.

Brenda smiled at him and lowered her eyes. She was doing it again: not asking for help, and leaving it to Paul to take care of her.

"It's okay, I've got tons of warm things in my pack," she demurred softly before raising her eyes to his and murmuring, "Although I might ask you to share your body heat later on. Maybe just snuggle up and watch the stars tonight...well, if the clouds don't make it too overcast." A sudden shyness gripped her. Tensing slightly and nibbling on her bottom lip, Brenda grabbed the tarp and started off toward a decent-sized open space in the trees that looked like it could serve as a cooking area. "I'll go set this up."

She was glad to escape, to turn her back to Paul for a while, because she'd felt it again. Her tight nipples, straining toward him, so eager for attention. And all from the thought of something as simple and innocent as snuggling close to him beneath the stars.

But...should she make a move?

Her heart pounded in her chest, fueling the sense of urgency, but something held her back.

No, she wouldn't do anything. She couldn't be certain that Paul was ready yet. And it had become clear to her that this would be one of the biggest steps she'd ever take in her life -- he meant everything to her. And she wasn't going to bungle it. It would be better to play it safe.

 

[Rhovan]

Paul Knight

Paul was amazed at how well everything seemed to be going all of a sudden. She wasn't spending every moment trying to test his adherance to her rule of personal space, and it made Paul a hundred times more comfortable. Their arms continued to lay on the center consol together, touching as the car turned or bounced and he felt elated at the simple contact. It wasn't his fault his arm kept bumping hers, and she wasn't trying to grab his hand to see if he'd pull away so he felt normal again. More than normal, Brenda was there. He felt good. Their converstation was light, and easy flowing. They had apprently returned to what they were before Paul knew he had fallen in love with Brenda. Unfortunatly, Paul didn't want to be there exactly. But it was a good start.

"You know, Brenda, you could always have come to me if you wanted help." Paul told her, after a good length of time spent at Jason's expense.

"I know. That's what I should have done, and I don't know why I didn't. I guess I just always try to do things on my own...and the only reason I agreed is that...well, Jason offered, and I didn't really know him well enough to realize I should avoid him like the plague."

"Like a gross, disgusting, oozing-puss plague! Always so independent. Even if it gets you whomped at dodge-ball." Paul said with a smile, as he hinted back to her childhood. When their friendship had really been cemented. They'd be completely inseperable since then, outside of the short period of time based on politics.

"Paul, would you like to help me study calculus some time?"

Paul turned and looked at Brenda. He was surprised, though he knew that she'd need to take it again to get a better grade. It didn't exactly feel like a simple study date to Paul. He wanted it to be more, and he wasn't sure if it was or it wasn't. He himself looked out the window to hide his sudden blush, which prevented him seeing her get nervous and stare at the road ahead of them. After a couple of moments of silence, Paul turned back to Brenda and told her how he felt about her idea. "I'd love to." He looked back to the dashboard in front of him. He had missed the display of her nipples, either by accident or some hidden design. But he himself felt a little breathless. Maybe she liked him as much as he liked her. Paul quickly dismissed that as a flight of fancy.

They drove with casual banter for the rest of the trip. They were truely comfortable, but Paul was still a bit nervous about avoiding Brenda's personal space on the trail. They pulled up to the parking area sooner than Paul had expected, so he hopped out and started to unload all of the gear. He pulled his form on and got half of his pack onto it, then stood silently and patiently as Brenda jerked and tugged until all the little belts were belted, the snaps snapped and the ties were tied. It was pretty standard fair for their hiking trips. Of course they didn't usually sleep on the trail, and Paul had never been in love with her before. Well, love in a non-platonic way...that was new. They walked over to the register and signed their names. Brenda's name was bright, flowing and had a beauty to it; while Pauls was scribbled, indeciperable and something akin to a drunk spider walking about.

They started up the trail following a river, before moving to start up the slope of a moutain. They had hiked this trail before, but it had been several months or even a year since they had last explored it. There were plenty of trails around and they rotated through them from time to time. Paul wasn't really an avid hiker, though he liked it well enough -- he was really there for Brenda's companionship. Now he was there for that, and for something stronger, something more base. Paul did notice the glow of good health around Brenda. She seemed well rested and full of vigor, moreso than she normally did on the trail.

Of course, the air around them had cooled as the day went on. It was a combination of the setting sun, the higher altitude, and a slow moving cold front that had lowered the temperature at least ten degrees in the last hour. But they had made it to their camp sight, which sat atop a ridge and overlooked an evergreen forest settled in the saddle of two small hills on the side of the moutain. Night was falling quickly, as they stopped to set up. Paul pulled his pack off and went to help Brenda climb out of hers, and then he noticed her shivering.

"You okay?" Paul asked, she probably had underpacked like she always did. She had made claims that the forest could provide her anything she would need on any of her trips. Which might be true, but she'd rather have a jacket than lay buried in dirt. Or so Paul assumed.

"Yeah, just a little cold. How about this? You pitch the tent, and I'll go string up a tarp for the kitchen area and hang some lines for hoisting our food up in a tree before we go to sleep. The sooner we can cook dinner, the sooner I can have a hot drink to warm me up."

"Sure, that works. You can borrow my jacket if you want to," Paul added, he started to move towards Brenda, and shrugged his right shoulder out of the cloth before she stopped both his efforts to escape the jacket and his forward movement.

"It's okay, I've got tons of warm things in my pack. Although I might ask you to share your body heat later on. Maybe just snuggle up and watch the stars tonight...well, if the clouds don't make it too overcast." Paul watched her. She looked at her feet at the jacket, but then she looked up at him about snuggling together. He could do that. It was a normal situation for them. They always snugged together. It was just two friends...Paul knew he was lying to himself. There was no way he could lay with her in his arms and keep himself from touching her. And not in the subtle sleezy ways he had before, but just blatantly touching her. He knew she disliked that, so Paul made a firm promise to himself that if it really came to them snuggling, he would tell Brenda how he feels. Well...maybe a couple of minutes into the snuggling he would tell her. Because then she would get up and probably pack up and head back to her car.

As Paul thought all of these things, he didn't notice Brenda's own reactions, her sudden nervousness and a desire to be away from this spot. Then she snatched up a tarp and turned shouting over her shoulder as she walked for an open area. "I'll go set this up."

Paul stood there in silence for a moment, then he turned his gaze towards Brenda, who was busy stringing up some rope to hang the tarp from. She was facing away, so Paul quietly moved over near her. He shrugged out of his jacket silently and hung it from a tree brance between Brenda and where he was going to set up the tent. She couldn't miss it. Then Paul quietly moved away to the tent, laying out the under tarp, then the tent and staking it down. Paul grabbed the rods and ran them where they belonged and slowly started to erect it where it lay. By the time Brenda had returned, Paul had his front half stuffed in the tent and he was busy laying the sleeping bags out so they didn't touch the sides of the tent. It was a three man tent, large enough for them, and their gear would be sealed in a nylon bag that was water proof and could sit next to the tent. All the food stuff was hung in a bear bag, and they would be unencumbered inside the tent. It would just be the two of them, and their sleeping bags. Like it always was.

So why didn't it feel like it always did?

 

[Arioso]

Even just hanging from a tree branch, Paul's jacket made Brenda feel warm. She practically radiated affection, seeing it there and knowing that it was Paul's way of looking out for her, regardless of her stubborn inability to ask for or accept help.

She hadn't been lying earlier -- she did have plenty of layers of fleece stuffed in her backpack. Yet, although it was a little big on her, she slipped on Paul's jacket instead. Somehow, she had the sense that this small gesture shouldn't go unacknowledged...things were still too strange...or, at any rate, her feelings for Paul were still to raw and uncertain. Brenda didn't want to make the mistake of seeming ungrateful.

So she was a little clumsier in getting dinner ready than she might have been in her own clothing, but she didn't mind fumbling. However, when Paul joined her under the kitchen tarp, she offered to give him his jacket back, worried that he might suffer in the cold because she was hogging his warm layers when she had plenty of her own.

"Thanks for letting me borrow your jacket, Paul. But you shouldn't have to sit there and catch cold; I do have a fleece pullover in my pack. Would you like it back?" she asked, smiling up at him from where she knelt, opening a can of cooked chicken with her Swiss army knife. She'd already been able to fetch a pot of water from a nearby stream and had it perched atop their camp stove, slowly heating up to a boil.

"No, I'm good for now. But thanks," Paul assured her, settling himself in comfortably near her. "Besides, I'm having fun watching you try to open that can when the sleeves keep slipping down over your knuckles."

Brenda rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him, but she chuckled at his teasing. Paul could get her to laugh at almost anything.

"Just kidding," he relented. "Is there anything I can do to help? What are we having, anyway?"

"Jambalaya. I was in the mood for some good, old creole stew," Brenda explained, gratified when she saw the gleam in Paul's eyes that signaled his approval of the menu. "And if you have your knife on you, you can open the can of tomatoes. Everything else is pretty much pre-packaged and ready to go."

They spent the next half hour amiably chatting and preparing dinner. At last, when the rice had cooked and all the ingredients blended into a hearty, savory fare, Paul and Brenda sat close together and enjoyed a few bowls. Everything seemed completely normal -- just as light-hearted and fun as things always had been between them. Until the meal was finished and Brenda was using her usual method of washing her bowl: licking it clean.

Paul watched her, his eyes twinkling in amusement. After a while, Brenda stopped, arched an eyebrow and said, "What?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing," Paul swiftly assured her.

"No, what's so funny?" Brenda insisted. "This is how I always clean my bowl on the trail."

"I know...I just never noticed how good you are at it before," Paul explained, blushing slightly. As if to cover his embarrassment, he added, "And it seems to work, after all."

"Well, yeah," Brenda agreed. Then her eyes narrowed as she spied a stray smudge of sauce on Paul's chin, just centimeters away from his mouth. A devilish impulse seized her, and before her higher brain functions could warn her not to do anything that might jeopardize her weekend with Paul, she set aside her bowl, leaned toward him, and swiped her tongue over his chin.

The night air might have been chilled, but Brenda suddenly felt extremely warm. Her whole body tingled, as if that small contact with Paul's flesh had flipped a switch that sent a charge of power through her. She felt herself slowing down. Very gradually, Brenda rose to her knees and steadied herself by resting her hands on Paul's hips. As she knelt close to him, her chest hovering just a hair's breadth away from his, she gently cleaned away all traces of the sauce with sensual strokes of her tongue. Paul's breath slipped warm and shaky from his lips to ghost across her cheek.

When Brenda felt his hands on her forearms, gently pushing her away, the spell was broken. Immediately, she realized how stupid she had been!! What was she thinking? Sure, she'd overheard something that day just before their calculus class, but she couldn't be 100% certain. Why was she pulling a stunt like this?

However, a glance at Paul's eyes, dark and stormy with emotion, had Brenda's heart pounding. Was he...feeling something, too?

They regarded each other silently for just a moment, before Paul said, "Brenda, I...I should probably do the dishes so we can get settled for the night."

A tight lump settled in Brenda's throat, but she managed to agree, "Okay...sure...I'll pack up all the garbage and go put something warmer on. Um, here," she added, slipping out of his jacket, "Thanks for letting me wear this. But I don't want you getting cold because of me, so I'll go dig one of my own jackets out of my pack."

She set the jacket beside him on the ground, then turned away to begin gathering the empty cans and packaging into their designated garbage sack for packing out later. Silently, Brenda berated herself for taking such stupid chances and flirting with Paul like...

...like...oh god, she was as bad as that little freshman girl. He probably thought she was throwing herself at him. Maybe Paul's opinion of her had just dropped...

Brenda fought the burning sensation that welled in her eyes. She wasn't going to let herself get carried away...she had to stay calm...but why did it feel like she'd just pulled the rug out from underneath her whole life and everything that mattered to her?

By the time Brenda was ready to stretch out and enjoy the stars as they peaked through open patches in the clouds, she was miserable. Paul had done his usual good job in cleaning up camp, but had kept to himself most of the time, and Brenda was certain it was because she'd made him so uncomfortable by what she'd done at dinner. So, she pulled her Ridge Rest mat and sleeping bag halfway out of the tent, crawled into the sleeping bag and sat by herself, hugging her knees to her chest and gazing up at the night sky.

"What happened to sharing body heat?"

At the sound of Paul's voice, Brenda dropped her gaze back down to earth to see him standing beside her, looking a little uneasy and confused. She felt even more guilty. That did it. She would just have to take what was coming to her.

"I guess I felt bad for...for what I did. I'm sorry, Paul. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. It started out as just teasing, but then I...I....oh, anyway, I figured you might want me to stay out of your space." The apology came out haltingly and Brenda could feel the sorrowful pit growing heavier and heavier in her gut.

Paul's brow knit together as she spoke, his confusion evident on his face.

"What gave you a crazy idea like that?" Paul asked. When Brenda was unable to answer, he moved to sit behind her on her mat, stretching his legs out on either side of her hips and gently pulling her to relax against his chest.

It was the most wonderful feeling in the world. All of the tension drained out of Brenda when Paul's arms slipped around her waist in a reassuring hug, and she let out a sigh of relief. This was where she most wanted to be. She hoped that Paul would sit there with her like that for a while, but he might have intended it as just a quick, friendly embrace before he got ready to sleep.

Brenda sank back against him, wanting to savor the moment, convinced that Paul would just pull away from her again.

 

[Rhovan]

Paul Knight

"Thanks for letting me borrow your jacket, Paul. But you shouldn't have to sit there and catch cold; I do have a fleece pullover in my pack. Would you like it back?"

"No, I'm good for now. But thanks. Besides, I'm having fun watching you try to open that can when the sleeves keep slipping down over your knuckles."

Brenda made her, "Stop teasing me...oh alright, it's kinda funny," face at that. To which Paul had to relent, or else he'd be stuck with an eye rolling and tongue sticking woman for the night.

"Just kidding. Is there anything I can do to help? What are we having, anyway?"

"Jambalaya. I was in the mood for some good, old creole stew. And if you have your knife on you, you can open the can of tomatoes. Everything else is pretty much pre-packaged and ready to go."

Of course Paul had his knife with him, as it was yet another gift from Brenda. Paul knew she kept giving him camping paraphenillia because she wanted him to go camping more often, and it was slowly working over time. Plus he got to spend the time with her, usually alone and without people the likes of Jason or Briggett(or whatever her name is) the freshman girl.

Brenda and Paul spent the rest of the preperation time in general and easy banter. It truely was a feat too, because neither of them mentioned the very large, and very obvious, metaphorical elephant sitting just opposite them on the other side of the cook fire. They finished prepairing the food, and then they ate comfortably, enjoying the sounds of dusk, the general air of good health that surrounded the area and of course the windbreak that the elephant provided. Then Brenda started to lick her bowl clean, which was akin to a dog lapping up his dinner. Of course, Brenda was a lot more arousing than a dog.

Paul didn't mean to stare, but he never really got use to this, nor did he think he ever would. She suddenly pulled the bowl down from her face some and raised an eyebrow, "What?" she demanded.

"Huh? Oh, nothing."

"No, what's so funny? This is how I always clean my bowl on the trail."

"I know...I just never noticed how good you are at it before. And it seems to work, after all." Paul flushed a bit. He couldn't help but think of what else she might be good at licking clean. Or just licking in general. The elephant meanwhile was getting a little restless, swinging it's trunk about.

"Well, yeah." Then Brenda did what Paul would never expect. She put her bowl down, planted a hand on the ground between them and leaned in close. That wasn't exactly odd, they were always close. They had even practiced at kissing games when they were really young, so that they would be prepaired. But she didn't kiss him, as Paul had hoped she would. She instead licked his chin, which was both welcomed and surprising.

At which point, the elephant stood up, and started crashing through the trees around the campsite.

Paul knew for certain that his erection was both painfully hard, and blatantly obvious. He heard the sudden change in Brenda's breathing, as it slowed a half breath. She had stayed close after that intial swipe of her tongue, and Paul hadn't be able to pull himself away. Then she shifted and moved up onto her knees, her hands falling onto Paul's hips with a familiarity even Paul didn't have. As she moved, Paul did too, he thought she was getting up to leave, and he thought that might be a good idea too. But the feel of her hands on his hips locked him into inaction, and he froze as she leaned in, chest to chest to swirl her tongue on his flesh again.

Paul put his hands on Brenda's forearms, pushing them off of his hips gently. The elephant was making such a ruckus that Paul couldn't hear anything but the sounds of it's crashing foot falls. Or that was Paul's heartbeat, he couldn't tell really. Paul was shocked to the core by her audacious test of him, out here in the trails. She had licked his chin, but he knew if he kissed her, or hugged her, or anything else she would just yell at him about invading her personal space where she had made clear that men didn't belong. But Paul didn't know how much more of this testing he could take. It was really starting to break Paul's spirit. To have the woman he loves throw herself at him over and over again just to see if he would cave, and if and when he caved, she would no longer want anything to do with him.

If Paul's eyes were stormy, his countenance was utterly tranquil. He swayed a bit on his knees, holding her fore arms in the small amount of space that still seperated them, and his lips moved almost of their own accord. He desperately wanted to lean forward and kiss her, but he didn't. Instead he forced the sound of his heart, and the crashes of the elephant out of his head and spoke the only safe course there was for the two of them. "Brenda, I...I should probably do the dishes so we can get settled for the night." It felt as lame as it sounded to Paul, but it was what needed to be said.

Paul's will power was sifting away like sands through an hourglass.

"Okay...sure...I'll pack up all the garbage and go put something warmer on. Um, here. Thanks for letting me wear this. But I don't want you getting cold because of me, so I'll go dig one of my own jackets out of my pack." Paul nodded dumbly, and watched her climb up, leaving the jacket behind and then set to cleaning the kitchen area. Paul's hand slowly went out to the jacket and he picked it up. He intended to put it on, as it had indeed gotten colder than he had expected it too. But he found himself suddenly holding the jacket up to his face, inhaling the scent of Brenda. The jasmine she always smelled of, the scent of her clean sweat that she had developed on the hike up here, the scent of nature and all the good things Paul could think of. When he put the jacket back on, it almost felt like Brenda's arms were around him, and his spirit soared. Then he blinked, and watched his spirit get pulled back to Earth in the grip of the elephant's trunk. He was going to have to do something about the bastard of a beast.

Paul policed the site, cleaning up their dishes in a small pot of water, and making sure the tent didn't reside in an ant hill or anything. He kept sneaking glances of Brenda, but he couldn't read the emotion in her face. He thought she was struggling with something or another, but he couldn't be sure what it was. Paul was surpsied to find Brenda half out of their communial tent when he finally went to settle in for the night. He had double checked the bear bag, and wasn't surprised to find it perfectly set by Brenda. She took her camping serious, but Paul was a bit of a worrier. But he was more worried when he saw her huddled in her bag, staring at the sky but obviously not planning on sleeping in the tent tonight. Sleeping with Paul. Or rather, sleeping beside Paul. It suddenly felt like Paul had taken a blow to his solar plexis by way of his crotch.

"What happened to sharing body heat?" Paul asked, not sure what he should be feeling right at the moment, so he tided himself over by feeling a little of everything. She looked down slowly, and her eyes stopped on his for a moment. Then she dropped her gaze to the ground and spoke softly. "I guess I felt bad for...for what I did. I'm sorry, Paul. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. It started out as just teasing, but then I...I....oh, anyway, I figured you might want me to stay out of your space." The normally eloquint Brenda stammered her way through her explination, and it almost looked like she was collapsing in on herself as she spoke. It certainly nearly broke something inside of Paul. His heart cried out for Brenda so much, he couldn't hear the elephant slowly circling the tent, closing in closer with each rotation.

"What gave you a crazy idea like that?" Paul wanted to touch Brenda. He needed to touch Brenda. So he moved around behind her and sat, in a position that wasn't new to them. He stretched his legs out to either side of her, his resting outside the sleeping bag and her's inside. He scooted forward until he was pressed tight against her back. His crotch was however savely prevented from burying itself into her backside because of the fleece pull over she had donned, the sleeping bag, and his own pants. For that he was greatful. He wrapped his arms around her waist and her legs as well, holding her just below where her arms held herself. He was leaning against her back and his chin was resting gently on her shoulder. He could feel her relax almost instantly in his grip, and he wasn't exactly sure why. She leaned back against him, them supporting each other's weight as they leaned together.

The elephant was rushing straight for them, and Paul knew he had to address his feelings for Brenda.

"I love you Brenda."

And then, with the speed of a Captial One card commercial, the elephant pulled up it's charge suddenly. Stopped, stamped it's foot in impotent rage and walked off into the woods.

Paul waited several seconds, but the only reaction that Brenda offered was to suddenly tense up in his arms again. But Paul couldn't deny it any longer. He pulled back from her, and shuffled about to her side, up on his knees and looking down at her from the small height he had gained. His eyes were stormy again, but this time they gleamed with love, and lust, and excitement, and hope. A faint smile lifted the edges of his lips, but at the same time, everything about Paul looked like he had just resigned himself to an awful fate. But he forged on nevertheless.

"And I love you more than a friend Brenda. But at the same time, I love you as the greatest friend I shall ever know. Everything about you is perfect. Your the woman I hold all other women too. I know what you said, about how men have to stay out of your personal space. I know you've been testing me by trying to get me to break your rule, and I've tried to be the man you wanted me to be. But I can't Brenda. I love you too much. It hurts me every moment I don't touch you; it's a dull ache in my body. But the moments when I nearly touch you, only to have to pull back...those moments are like white hot pain across the core of my soul."

Paul looked down at Brenda, who just stared back up at him. She didn't seem to react, and that hurt Paul more than he thought it would. He took the last chance he had up his sleeve. He reached out with both his hands and captured Brenda's face in his palms, gently pressing his hands to her cheeks. Then he turned his head slightly to the side, and he kissed her. He kissed her for his sake, for her sake, for the love of the ages. He kissed her like a man drowning and she was what would sustain him. He kissed as if this single kiss would end world hunger.

He kissed her like a man driven crazy...with love.

 

[Arioso]

Brenda had been struck dumb at Paul's confession.

I love you, Brenda.

Hearing him say it, but even more, hearing how fervently he meant it, she'd frozen for a moment. Too choked up by her own elation, surprise, relief, and wonder...almost ready to weep at how beautifully Paul voiced his feelings...she'd merely gazed at him, stunned. She knew she should say something -- shoot, she could see from the pained look in Paul's eyes that she needed to say something to take that pain away. But by the time she managed to snap herself out of her daze, Paul was kissing her.

Fire seemed to be burning in her veins. He cradled her face so gently, even as his mouth moved hungrily over hers, as if trying to pour his soul into her body. It brought her back to life.

She circled her arms around his waist and then slowly let them glide up his back, insinuating her hands (which, thankfully, she'd been keeping warm inside her sleeping bag) beneath his jacket and shirt to caress him, skin-on-skin. As she let her palms map the smooth terrain of his back, feeling the contours of his shoulder blades, the slight dip in the small of his back, she began to move her lips sensually against his.

At the first touch of her hands on his skin, Paul had hesitated momentarily, as if he doubted what was happening. Eager to reassure him, Brenda slanted her mouth over his and plunged her tongue into that warm cavern, twining it around his tongue like a serpent seducing its mate. A tremor rippled through Paul's entire body and he pressed his lips even more fiercely against Brenda's, so desperate for confirmation that they were really kissing -- that Brenda really wanted his lips on hers -- that he claimed her mouth with almost bruising force.

Brenda groaned her desire straight down his throat so urgently, the sound almost rattled around in his belly, vibrating and humming straight down to his balls. Both of them snorted their breath against each other's cheeks like bulls ready to charge.

Somehow, as if by mutual consent...or, at least, out of a mutual need to come up for air...they drew apart, still clutching at each other in a heated embrace, but staring wondrously into each other's eyes and panting heavily.

It was Brenda's turn to offer Paul the truth that she knew he needed to hear.

"I love you, too, Paul. So much, I didn't know what to do about it...I was afraid I'd lose you or ruin our friendship, and I couldn't bear that, because you're the most important person in my life. But I couldn't stop thinking about you...wanting you..." Brenda trembled and closed her eyes, almost terrified to make her confession. Softly, she whispered, "Dear god, Paul...I even...I wanted you so badly one night, I even touched myself and made myself come while I was thinking about you. I never meant to push you away...Anything I might have said about Jason or guys in general -- that doesn't apply to you. You're not like them, you're not just a guy...you're the only man who has gotten so far inside my heart, I can't see myself without you."

The force of her emotions was too strong, too frightening. As she looked up into Paul's amazed expression, Brenda felt herself shaking like a leaf. Her eyes were burning and a single, tiny drop spilled from the corner of one eye to slide down her cheek.

Paul saw it and his countenance softened with compassion.

"Oh, Brenda," he murmured, bowing his head to place kisses all along the wet trail, holding her tight in his embrace.

They knelt together in silent, loving communion for several moments, until Brenda shivered and drew away from Paul. Smiling shyly, she took his hands in hers and said, "Let's move inside the tent...it's cold out here."

As if to emphasize her point, her nipples strained outward like twin diamonds beneath her thermal underwear top. She held Paul's gaze for an instant, then lowered her eyes meaningfully and brought his hand to her breast, guiding his fingertip lightly around her tight, sensitive peak.

"I seem to remember us saying something about sharing body heat," Brenda added, her voice low and sultry.

 

[Rhovan]

Paul Knight

Paul didn't know if what he was doing was right. He just knew what he hadn't been doing was wrong. Paul put his trust in Brenda, he hedged his bet against the strength of their friendship for the last 15 years or so. Paul took a chance. He couldn't read her face as he moved in for the kiss, which was a rare occasion indeed. But Paul didn't really need to read her face. He just needed to kiss her. He had to throw himself into the maelstrom that he had been edging around for the last several days.

Paul had always loved Brenda, ever since he met her. But he never knew the depth and the bredth of that love. She would skin her knee, Paul would kiss it to make it better. Granted, that method never once actually closed the wound in a mircle display of Paul's latent powers, but it always cheered Brenda up. To the point where she thought her world had ended because she hurt herself and put a hole in her pants, then Paul would kiss it, and she would be back out, as if it never happened.

Paul loved Brenda all through elementary school, when she had been as thin as a rail and dressed like a guy. He loved her in middle school when she developed just a tad slower than anyone. He loved that she always assumed they would goto dances together, because he knew he'd never have the guts to ask her. Paul loved Brenda with all that he had, and all that he could borrow. Paul loved that she would rather go hiking instead of sun tan. That she'd rather see Alien than Fried Green Tomatoes (though Paul was kinda partial to that one himself.)

And Paul loved that she laughed at his jokes, even when he could no longer find anything funny in them.

This and more was all the feelings Paul was trying to convey with his kiss. He just knew he had to kiss her, and everything else would fall into place. Hopefully for the better. Then Brenda's arms circled his waist, and the rock hard muscles, strained with a tension that should have torn them asunder suddenly relaxed at the feel of her fingertips. She wasn't shoving him away, or swatting him about the head and neck. She was holding him...she was touching him. And not as they were used to touching one another, but really touching him. Her hands slipped up the back of his shirt like they had done this hundreds of time before. They hadn't. In fact, Paul could count the times on his left hand that he had done this at all, let alone with Brenda. Nobody seemed to measure up to Brenda. Nobody had a chance.

Paul's hands just held onto Brenda's face gently, as if he was afraid to move them, only to see her disappear into the ephemeral mist. Paul couldn't move for a second as her hands touched him, but he did notice that she continued to kiss him, and move her hands about. Then she tipped her head sideways, and kissed Paul. She kissed him so his toes would curl. He felt her tongue suddenly enter his mouth, and never one to be timid, her tongue didn't take any time at all to get itself aquainted with it's surroundings. Paul couldn't help it. It started in his scalp, his groin, and his ankles all at the same time. A sudden warm flush suffused his whole body, and Brenda could feel the sudden heat under her hands, in her lips, and pressed against her chest as they contiued to kiss.

Paul's tongue did its best to ward Brenda's tongue off, but once he relised it was a lost cause, he instead slipped his tongue into her mouth as best he could. He felt akward and gangly again, like his 9th grade year; but just being near Brenda made him alright with that. She would understand, and if all else failed, she would teach him a better way. Though his sheer intensity and the amount of love in every motion of his lips and tongue almost made up for any rustyness on his skill.

Paul couldn't breath, with how quickly they were passing their breath back and forth, and his nose half pressed against Brenda's face. But even as his lungs screamed for a respite, the rest of his form was shouting for more, and Paul was inclined to listen to just about anything but his lungs at the moment. Several long seconds passed and they parted. Panting just on the edge of hearing, Paul's hands still on her face, and Brenda's hands still on Pauls back and under his shirt. Paul couldn't believe it. She had kissed him back.

"I love you, too, Paul. So much, I didn't know what to do about it...I was afraid I'd lose you or ruin our friendship, and I couldn't bear that, because you're the most important person in my life. But I couldn't stop thinking about you...wanting you...Dear god, Paul...I even...I wanted you so badly one night, I even touched myself and made myself come while I was thinking about you. I never meant to push you away...Anything I might have said about Jason or guys in general -- that doesn't apply to you. You're not like them, you're not just a guy...you're the only man who has gotten so far inside my heart, I can't see myself without you."

Paul was shocked. He was touched. He was so very happy. He could feel Brenda shuddering under his touch, but he knew it wasn't from where his fingertips lay. It was because she feared his finger tips might be withdrawn. She loved him as much, if maybe not more than he loved her. Though that would be akin to arguing that the Pacific ocean contained more water than the Atlantic. She was tearing up, and as the tear broke from the corner of her eye, Paul softened and leaned in. Close enough to brush his lips on her cheek, to brush the salty trail away as he spoke just loud enough for her to hear, and her alone.

"Oh, Brenda. You kissed me back." It was all Paul could offer at the moment, so caught up in his feelings and so very happy. But he knew it said enough. All of his fears were absolved with that one sentence. His world had suddenly re-aligned, but this time it created something better. Something wholesome. A sum greater than the two parts. Neither of them could move. Neither of them wanted to move. Paul knelt there, next to Brenda, holding her as if she were some rare flower that to much pressure would destroy forever; he could feel her arms around him, holding him as if he might run. They were still, but as much information was passing between the two of them in just looks and smiles as could be passed between two computers in a fortnight.

"Let's move inside the tent...it's cold out here." Brenda shivered again, but this time it was born of the cold; though she certainly felt warm to the touch. Paul felt her take his hands from her face, but then she lowered one to her breast, curling back his fingers except for his index finger, and using that to gently touching her nipple through her top. Moving it in a circle around the point, then moving it against the point itself. Paul felt a line of heat run straight from his fingertip to his penis, which stood appreciativly in response to the stimulus. Paul smiled. The love was still there, but the edges of it were being pulled up by the sudden force of lust that welled in Paul like an animal yearning to be free. Paul had spoken his love. Now he intended to prove it.

"I seem to remember us saying something about sharing body heat." Paul grinned again, and then he shuffled until his feet were under him. He grabbed Brenda about the waist taking her into his arms, sleeping bag and all. Then he pulled them both backward into the tent, that was occupied by a lantern, two books, Brenda's shoes, Paul's sleeping bag, and now them. Paul put Brenda down in the center of the tent and turned to zip up the opening quickly. The lantern was on low, and it made an interesting silloette of the two of them, as Paul pulled his boots from his feet with as much speed as he could muster.

Brenda sat there, in her bag watching Paul work amazed at how easily he moved in the confines of the tent, which really wasn't big enough for these kinds of shenanigans. Paul grabbed his sleeping bag and ran the zipper down the side, then he pushed Brenda onto her back and straddled her hips. He leaned forward and kissed her, his hands fighting with his and her bag as he pinned her beneath his body and once again claimed her mouth as his. His tongue darting about, drawing her tongue out but never staying in any one spot long enough for an actual confrontation. Then suddenly the side of Brenda's bag was open, and she yelped into Paul's mouth with the sudden drop in temperature inside of her bag. But Paul quickly got the bags zipped together, leaving one extra wide bag in the center of the tent.

"Now, as a veteran camper, I'm sure you know that sharing body heat only works if we are both naked." Paul says, while sitting upright in his spot above Brenda, still straddling her. She nodded and as her hands went to lift her shirt, Paul stopped her. "Let me." He grinned, and when she grinned in response, Paul again went to work. He climbed off of Brenda and moved around until he was up near her head. Then he lifted the bag open, accompanied by another cold born squeal. He didn't hear it for long, because he stuffed himself down into the bag with Brenda head first. Followed by a muffled shout through the bag, "Let me do all the work!" when Brenda moved to pull Paul's socks off.

Paul himself stripped Brenda's socks off very quickly, then he grabbed them in his half chilled hands, which caused her to kick and squeal again. He stopped that by grabbed the legs of her pants and giving a hard tug. The pants didn't come off, as they clung to Brenda's hips, but they did move awful far down. Paul shifted himself again, so he straddled Brenda but inside the bag, then he worked between them to unbutton and unzip her jeans. His next tug did bring her pants down her legs, and he pulled them off her feet just as quickly. He balled the pants up, and tossed them out the opening of the sleeping bag.

"Now I shall warm you up!" Paul shouted through the bag again, and proceded to drag his warm tongue, across Brenda's ankles and up her calves, working to cover as much material as he could from his limited position. His right hand was planted just above her knee, keeping her leg still, but his left hand still rested between them, in a fist, half pressed against Brenda's panty covered mound. Every shift of his thumb or fingers causing movement against the simple cotton undergarment.

 

[Arioso]

If one could get drunk off of joy, then Brenda would be completely soused. Pickled. Downright tanked. Paul, when he was giddy and playful, was more intoxicating than any drug. It was one of the reasons Brenda had always preferred his company to anyone else's.

During the clique-obsessed high school years, she'd never cared about who was and wasn't a geek. She figured she was probably a geek, too, considering that she didn't care about things like make-up and clothes, so who was she to care about geekiness? Paul made her feel happy -- he always knew how to do that -- and that was all that mattered.

So she shrieked with elated laughter when Paul's cold hands gripped her feet, tussling with him just as they had when they were children. But then...then his hands settled on her in a very un-childlike way, and Brenda's entire world tilted.

"Ohhhh....ooohh Paul," she breathed, her voice muffled within the sleeping bag.

His mouth was slowly working its way up her calf, nipping and suckling her flesh in a way that was both reverent and teasing all at once. Like he wanted to devour her whole, starting from her ankles and working his way up. Whenever she shivered, he paused to swirl his tongue over that patch of flesh just a little longer...drawing even more shivers out of her.

And his hand was definitely not idle. His palm cupped her mound, massaging in slow circles that steadily fed the blossoming heat in her center. Paul had never touched her like this -- ever. Yet he had an uncanny sense about how to draw out the fullest depths of her passion, how to coax her desire to the surface. When he'd aroused her to the point that she was rocking her hips and trying to brush her pussy mound more firmly against his hand, he insinuated two fingers in the dampening, cotton-covered cleft at the crux of her thighs. Rhythmically, he slid them along that tender valley, thrumming back and forth relentlessly until her panties grew transparent and sticky with her juices.

Meanwhile, Paul's head had inched closer and closer to her inner thighs, to the point that Brenda was able to thread her fingers through his hair and squeeze his scalp gently to signal how much she liked what he was doing.

When she felt his breath whispering warm over the soft crease between her thigh and her pussy, it was too much.

"Yesssssss," she hissed, trembling with need. "Paul, yesss....god, please....suck me..."

 

[Rhovan]

Paul Knight

"Ohhhh....ooohh Paul."

Paul couldn't claim to know this part of Brenda, as they had never done anything more than kiss, and that was in middle school. But Paul did know Brenda. He didn't know her, he KNEW her. Everything there was to know about her except for her particular sexual kinks, likes, dislikes and foibles. But he would be able to find them out. He knew that Brenda wasn't one to rush into anything, as such, he took every moment he could to touch the parts of her lower legs as he could. He could also read her body language, or rather, the writhing of her body beneath his own. Her words and moans didn't make it any harder either. She would quiver like a plucked harp string every couple of moments, and Paul knew he had found a spot that she particularly enjoyed being licked, sucked, nipped or blown on.

Of course, that was just what Paul was doing with his left hand and his mouth. His right hand however, had settled on Brenda's crotch. He pressed his wide, fleshy palm into Brenda's panty covered pussy lips. Slowly his wrist would circle his hand around as he pushed against her with enough pressure to let her really know his hand was there. It wasn't the feather light touches of his tongue, but the very obvious pressing of his hand on her. Then as his mouth made it's way to her knee, he could feel her rocking her hips back against his hand, rubbing herself just as insistantly as he was rubbing her. So he gave her what she wanted, he moved his hand until his index and middle finger was lined straight up with her entrance and then he pushed. He forced the cotton of her panties into her cunt, then he changed the angle of his hand and using the fleshy pads of them, he ran them up and down quickly in the cleft between her pussy lips but still on the outside of her quickly sodden panties. He reveled in the feeling of her juices all over his fingers, dripping from his finger tips back onto her panties, or her thighs, running back from his fingers and towards his palm. He would have never guessed how sexual Brenda was.

As Brenda thrust against Paul's fingers, his mouth never slowed. He slipped from her knees and then to the top of her thigh, only to slowly slip down the side and between Brenda's legs. He was laying to her left side, his left hand on her knee, his face slipping down the inside of her left thigh, his right hand moving up and down across her panties as she slipped her own fingers into his hair. She tugged his hair, to speed him up, but he ignored the slight pain in his scalp. She ran her fingertips across his scalp and he was surpised by how arousing the simple motion was. Slowly Paul dragged his lips across her thigh, higher and higher until he got to the crease of her thigh. Then he heard her panted words from above him.

"Yesssssss. Paul, yesss....god, please....suck me..." Paul, ever one to please Brenda, did exactly what she told him to do. He moved his fingers from her panties and gripped her right thigh gently to support himself as he lowered his mouth to her panty clad mound. His hand leaving a smear of her juices on her flesh. If he had a source of light, he would of seen the perfect outline of Brenda's pussy, as the panties were pushed so tight to her flesh, so transparent with her juices, and skimpy to begin with. Certainly not your traditional 'granny panties' that Paul had half wondered if he would find. His mouth opened wide, he caught as much of her, and her soaked panties in his lips as possible.

Then he sucked, he sucked hard until her panties freed themselves and pulled up into his mouth. Paul probed with his tongue for a moment, and as soon as he was sure it was safe, he bit into the panties. He caught the wet fabric in his teeth, and he tugged backwards hard. For a moment the cloth held, then he tore out the crotch of the panties in his mouth. A sucking sound and then the piece of fabric flies out the opening of the sleeping bag and into the corner of the tent once Paul had sucked all of Brenda's juices from it.

Paul couldn't see, but he knew what it must look like now. Brenda's pussy, wet, quivering, wanting contact. Her panties torn, but the legs still intact leaving two bands of cotton on either side of her lips. Paul grabbed the elastic waist band of Brenda's panties and pulled them onto her tighter, framing her pussy with the re-enforced cotton leg openings on either side of her lips. Then Paul dropped his mouth to her pussy once more, catching as much of her in his mouth and sucking hard. He sucked until he had filled his mouth with her juices, then he swallowed and started to suck again.

 

[Arioso]

Brenda was burning with the white heat of revelation.

It had hit her when Paul had ripped out the crotch of her panties with his own teeth, and sent her pulse racing at a break-neck pace.

He wanted her. He wanted to fuck her.

She didn't recoil from thoughts which might seem crude. No...actually, it excited her. Paul had always shown her his love on one level. He'd been her friend and comforter through so much, and that didn't happen without love. But oh god he wanted her physically, urgently enough to bite through the sodden cloth that concealed her sex.

And it went deeper than that. Although her vision was impaired by the sleeping bag (which actually added to the thrill), she could feel him pressing the elastic bands of her panty legs into the tender flesh of her mound, accentuating her pussy and slightly pulling the juicy lips apart. Although she hadn't seen much pornography, it seemed like something that might be in a porn photo...drawing attention to her sex...

Just the idea that Paul could think of her like that, that he could picture her body in a sordid, naughty way...oh, hell! It made Brenda feel so hot, so sexy. And she'd never felt sexy like this. She'd always been the fun girl -- easy-going, the one that guys dated a few times before figuring out that she reminded them of their sisters.

Paul was making her feel like a sex kitten.

The moist pink flesh of her pussy shivered with a renewed wave of heat. In the dark, more aware of each sensation because of her situational blindness, Brenda could feel warm honey-drops of her desire slowly trickling out from her delicate folds. Paul's warm breath fanned over her as he greedily sought out her pungent nectar. When his tongue danced lightly over her slit, she groaned.

"Ohhhhh....nnnhhhhh....ooohhh yesssss.....ohPaulthatfeelssogood....love you...loveyousomuch..."

Her words slurred into one, grand sigh of abandon.

She wanted to touch him, too, to seek out all of his sensitive places, but even with two sleeping bags zipped together, her movements were constrained. The furthest she could reach was Paul's head, so she continued kneading and massaging his scalp, tugging on his hair when he nipped at a particularly delicious spot and made her toes curl.

Brenda was even frustrated in her efforts to move closer to him and spread herself wider for his questing tongue. Her knees were restricted by the cocoon of their bags, but Brenda pressed them outward as far as they would go, wantonly parting her thighs and begging, begging for Paul's wonderful mouth. In desperation, she tucked her hips up, trying to angle her cunt closer to his face.

It was somewhat like being trapped, but at the moment Brenda could think of nothing better than being trapped and spread out like some sort of erotic buffet for her sweet Paul.

 

[Rhovan]

Paul Knight

"Ohhhhh....nnnhhhhh....ooohhh yesssss.....ohPaulthatfeelssogood....love you...loveyousomuch..." Words did not need to be expressed. Brenda was telling a tail and a half from just the reaction of her lower body. The quiver of her thighs, the shaking of her legs, the renewed efforts at producing enough lubrication to push an elephant through a key hole. He didn't mind her words however, because each syllable, each tiny groan or noise sent a wave of heat into his body, starting at his toes and scalp at the same moment and then rushing quickly to his cock, suffusing his body with pleasant feelings of lust and warmth despite the bitter cold outside the tent.

Brenda wasn't able to keep her words seperate, or understandable. Paul did hear that Brenda loved him, and that rocked him to the core of his being, but was also the most effective aphrodisiac he could think of. Including Rhino horn and Tiger testical. She was sighing and panting and moaning, and she was only partially muffled from the sleeping bag she had been pulled down into when Paul went diving below. Paul could feel Brenda moving around, her arms trying to get to a better angle, her legs trying to spread even farther than they had already managed. He could feel her hands in his hair, tugging and pushing and directing as best she could. Largely her hand motions were ignored, so she finally settled on just gently petting Paul's head, brushing her finger tips through his hair and giving him the best scalp massage she could manage without sticking her nails into his skull.

Paul noticed that Brenda's legs couldn't rest on the ground to either side of her as she had gotten caught on the sides of the sleeping bag. Her legs shook softly as she tried to force her knees through the sides of the cotton and rayon bags but it just wasn't working out. Then she moved slightly, thrusting her hips up and forward and driving her cunt up into Paul's mouth. He was surprised only for a moment, and so he sucked Brenda's clit into his mouth, trapped it between his lips and then forced it back out again with a sudden blast of air.

Paul's hands spread and fell on either of Brenda's knees, holding them as wide as possible with only the bag preventing her from doing some odd split laying there on her back. The zipper gave a tiny squeak of protest at this sudden mistreatment but otherwise it held on firmly, gamely trying to keep the pair of wild, and fuck crazy humans inside of it's warm embrace. Now that Brenda's legs were forced wide and the core of her body lay exposed in the tight, dark, musky confines of the sleepingbag; Paul took full advantage of Brenda's situation.

He lifted his head, which was answered by a sudden groan from the lack of contact with his lips to her flesh. But Paul wasn't leaving Brenda, not yet, not ever. Instead, Paul pursed his lips and sent out a focused, and slightly cold stream of air, straight into the outer lips of Brenda's pussy. But it didn't stay still, it moved, up and down, focusing on her clit, then on her inner lips, then down to her ass, and everywhere. He could feel her squirming, and he could hear the noises she was making, but she and he both knew she was stuck there, under Paul and the willing victim of all the wonderful and sexy things Paul could devise.

 

[Arioso]

Brenda's thighs trembled from the stress of being held apart and restrained from movement, but she wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else. She and Paul had just opened up to each other, baring their hearts completely. The experience moved Brenda so deeply that her eyes moistened slightly from the emotion. Her fears had been dispelled and all her greatest hopes realized when Paul didn't reject her or respond with awkward discomfort, but instead applied all his efforts to driving her half-mad with pleasure.

She trusted him with her heart, her body -- everything she was. And so she lay quivering, ignoring the slight ache in her muscles, because she wanted nothing about herself to be closed off from him.

The gentle stream of Paul's breath tickled her exposed sex, causing her belly to clench in reaction. It felt good and yet uncomfortable all at once -- a little like some of the times when the two of them had had "tickle" fights when they were thirteen. It was usually late at night, when they were watching movies past their bedtime, back in the days when the only slumber parties Brenda cared to go to were the impromptu ones that involved Paul inviting her over and her sneaking out without her parents' permission. Something would trigger it -- a disagreement over a particular scene in the movie, one of them stealing the last handful of popcorn, any random reason. But it always ended with Brenda getting no more than a few, good tickles in against Paul before he had her flat on her back and squealing.

Idly, she wondered if he'd had feelings for her way back then.

But any thoughts about their earlier tickle fights fled from her mind as Paul intensified his assault. And all without placing his lips on her flesh. He simply continued blowing a warm, focused stream of air at her tender pussy lips, altering the angle slightly, varying the intensity. It was slowly driving Brenda to distraction.

She panted shallowly, letting out soft moans now and again and shivering as her vulnerable sex twitched beneath the teasing ghost of Paul's breath. Like a butterfly, it landed lightly on one patch of flesh only to dart away in the next instant. Brenda could feel her channel clenching erratically as mild spasms of pleasure gripped her without warning.

Under other circumstances, this might be called torture....but to Brenda, it felt oh so sweet. As her eyes squeezed shut in almost painful bliss, her glistening, pink entrance winked open and closed tightening as her muscles contracted.

The sleeping bag grew rich with the perfume of her desire. A thick coating of pungent juices seeped out over her thighs and into the soft cleft between her cheeks. Although she hadn't cum yet, her body was yielding to Paul's patient, relentless ministrations, growing wetter for him.

When she felt his finger drag through the slippery nectar, from the base of her slit all the way up to her tiny pearl, and then heard the wet, smacking sounds as he licked his finger clean, Brenda couldn't stop herself from groaning deeply.

 

[Rhovan]

Paul Knight

The dance of Brenda's muscles under the skillful tutilage of Paul's mouth, lips, tongue, and associated items was a sight to behold. Unfortunately, it wasn't being seen by anyone including Paul as it was occuring in the dark recesses of the sleeping bag. But Paul could feel the fluttering, the clenching, the sudden spasms and movements. It brought a smile to Paul's face, and a renewed enthusiasm to his efforts of brining Brenda to a reality distorting orgasm here in the majestic wilderness.

But now it was the time to add to the effect. Paul moved a bit, letting his weight drop onto his side, next to Brenda, giving her a deal more manuverablity beneath the cover of the sleeping bag. Which was quite luxiourious in it's smell, it's warmth, and the closeness it fostered between the two. Paul's hand moved quickly, and with familiarity that shouldn't have been possibly considering this is the first time Paul was ever between Brenda's legs when she had her pants off.

But Paul knew what he was doing. Paul had always aspired to be the best lover, bar none, that any woman who would ever sleep with him would ever encounter. But this was Brenda. Paul didn't feel like he needed to prove it to her, he just knew she would know. But Paul also had a itching about the fact that he had to make sure there was no reason she could ever want to leave him. He loved her to much. He finally felt whole. It's like one of those weights that when it is lifted, you finally relise you had it. Paul's weight had been lifted, and now that he knew how heavy it really was, he had no desire to ever get it back.

Paul's index finger touched to Brenda's flesh softly, starting from low and between her thighs, and slowly dragging up between her legs until it touched just the bottom edge of Brenda's pussy. He skipped over the opening of the channel, and instead continued higher, pathfinding where it had never gone before, wandering between Brenda's inner lips and continuing it's assent of her Northern face. Then he touched it. Paul's finger slip up and beside Brenda's clit, only to be pulled away, dodging the sudden surge of Brenda's hips.

Paul smiled when Brenda groaned, as he licked his finger clean. He was both surprised and expectant of Brenda's taste. It was indescribable. But suffice to say, if Paul could only survive on that flavor, that texture and consistancy; and the sheer proximity to Brenda's pussy -- Paul would. Paul moved quickly, knowing that he would have plenty of time to return to this position, now that he was sure he wasn't crossing any bounderies with Brenda. His mouth opened wide, with a sudden smacking sound; and then he pushed his face forward to trap Brenda's pussy in his mouth.

He opened wide, surrounding it in it's entireity, and most of the flesh around it as well. Then Paul sucked hard, pulling all of Brenda's juices into his mouth to be greedily swallowed down, before Paul closed his mouth, moving his lips to trapping only Brenda's clit. Lips tightening down onto Brenda's clit, Paul's tongue shot forward to play with Brenda's clit. At the same moment, Paul's left hand pushed gently against Brenda's hip, holding her pelvis to the ground, so that his right hand, with stiffened fore and middle finger could line themselves up with Brenda's opening. With a soft, but insistant push, Paul put his fingers into her pussy, slipping them into the lubricated channel quickly, before turning them 90 degrees and pulling them out again. Then Paul turned them 180 degrees the other way, and pushed them back into Brenda's pussy. Quickly he got into a rythme of pushing his fingers in, turning, then removing them; only to turn them and push them in again.

Soon Paul was doing everything he could to keep Brenda's ass on the floor as his fingers slid in and out of her body as quickly as he could manage without causing her harm. The entire time, his lips and tongue were extracting their own form of 'torture' on Brenda's clit. Paul kept going, building speed and struggling with Brenda to keep her mostly still as she fought to raise her hips and keep herself from screaming as if she had just witnessed a death. As it were, she was panting and moaning, and talking, encouraging and occasionally cursing. Course that was usually in the vein of something similar to "Oh fuck you are good..." Paul worked hard, and with all of his skill until he brought Brenda to a very powerful, very loud, and very liquid orgasm, of which he did his best to swallow all of.

 

[Arioso]

Brenda succumbed to the bone-melting waves of ecstasy that washed over her, unable to do anything for several moments other than cry out her pleasure and quiver beneath Paul's mouth. Then, as the tremors in her belly gradually subsided and the pulsing of her pussy quieted, her mind cleared and she was struck by a number of revelations.

First, it awed her that this was Paul, her best friend in the whole world, who had licked and sucked and eaten her to the most incredible, toe-curling orgasm she'd ever had. To think that he'd been there, all along, and Brenda had never dreamed he was capable of such sensuality or that he could be so patient and attentive when it came to giving pleasure.

The very next thought that came to her, though, was that she'd been lying passive this entire time, merely moaning while Paul did all the work.

It was time to explore what gave him pleasure, although Brenda had no hopes of being anywhere near as good as he was. She'd had sex only a handful of times, and even so, it had been just that: having sex. She wanted to make love to Paul but now, after having experienced heaven on the tip of his tongue, she was afraid she would be a hopeless failure at it. Obviously, he had to have learned the art of lovemaking somewhere...he knew what he was doing. How could she compare?

But Brenda had always had a strong-willed determination to succeed (well, maybe not where Calculus was concerned). And she drew upon that now, wanting nothing more dearly than to make Paul experience the same bliss he'd shown her.

Shifting to the side, Brenda found that she could wrap her arms around his hips and nudge his thighs apart enough to position her head near his groin. It was something she'd heard of before -- doing "69" -- but had tried only once, and even then, the guy got impatient with her and shifted them to missionary before she'd had much of a chance to experiment. It looked like Paul would be her guinea pig!

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Brenda brought her whole face in toward Paul's swollen cock and brushed her cheek against it. Butterflies darted through her stomach as it finally sank in -- this was Paul's cock...she was touching it... She felt it twitch eagerly against her soft skin, then shivered as it smeared a thin, wet trail across her cheek.

His scent was so close...it was on her now. She breathed deeply, savoring the unique, rich musk of him, and then closed her lips around just the tip of his penis. He was uncut, so she didn't notice the familiar ridge where other guys had had their foreskin...um...snipped... And his erection was so firm and heavy against her tongue as she suckled him.

It seemed to like being in her mouth, because after a few moments Brenda could feel Paul rocking his hips eagerly and easing his engorged member deeper and deeper inside. She gripped her hands around his hips, cupping his buttocks and pressing him to her as she swallowed him all the way down to the hilt. It took a few moments for her throat to relax and accept all of him, but when she finally managed it, she thought she'd never experienced anything more intimate. Her whole mouth was filled with Paul's rigid, vulnerable flesh -- he'd given all of it to her, trusting her to pleasure him with her mouth.

Brenda only hoped she could do a half-way decent job. Closing her eyes, she let her entire world shrink down to that smooth column of flesh and began to lavish it with exquisite affection. Her lips formed a wet seal around his shaft, squeezing and pulsing as she pumped him in and out of her mouth.

As she worked her mouth hungrily over his glistening cock, Brenda listened for his breathy sighs, his moans -- anything that might give her a clue as to what he liked.

 

[Rhovan]

Paul Knight

Paul grunted. He couldn't really articulate more than that. He was after all, head first down a sleeping bag with his head trapped between Brenda's thighs. Course, he didn't want to leave, ever--except of course to fuck her; eat; and of course, deal with some necessary and unpleasent bodily functions away from her. But other than that, Paul wanted to keep some part of him between Brenda's thighs until...well, forever. It isn't that unreasonable a request, is it?

Then Brenda started to move. Well, not move as she had just been trashing as best she could inside the confines of the connected sleeping bags. But now she was moving with what appeared to be a plan. She shifted, her arms snaking around Paul's waist and moving him to a better position. That is to say, centering him atop of her and letting his knees rest on either side of her head. Paul was surprised. Of course, Paul had been pretty much surprised by everything that had happened in the last week or so with Brenda. He had felt weird, he'd plummed the depths of dispair and now he was in the process of riding one of the largest and fastest waves of ecstasy he had ever even imagined. And he still hadn't even taken off his pants yet!

Or were his pants off? Paul couldn't really remember. Releasing Brenda's thigh for but a moment, Paul reached back to check. Sure enough, somewhere between his stuffing himself into the sleeping bag, and this moment right now, Paul's pants had come off. Boxer's too. Not that Paul minded, he was really past the point of false modesty in front of Brenda. Everything he had, everything that was Paul; it all belonged to Brenda now. It had always been Paul's goal to make Brenda happy, and suddenly now Paul can do just that. Spiritually, metaphysically, emotionally, sexually; Paul had carte blanch to make Brenda. Which, in all honesty, is something Jason would never have understood even if he had made it this far. Paul was as much metaphorically entwined with Brenda as he was physically entwined right now.

At that moment, Paul was suddenly happy he was no longer the gaingly boy of his teenage years. Paul was glad he had filled out, bulked up as it were. He didn't have a six pack, but he did have that narrow waist that slopped in from his arms that women loved. He wasn't striated in his musculature but you could see the line of his pecs, his bisceps, his quads. He was also strong enough to sling himself and Brenda around as needed. Paul shifted. His legs squeezed in on Brenda, and his arms wrapped around her legs and then he rolled the two of them over. They stayed in the sleeping bag, which was now a bit off-center of the tent, but now Paul lay on his back, and Brenda rested comfortably close on top of his chest. Releasing his hold on her legs, Paul reached down between them and pulled his shirt first to his armpits, then with only a little struggling over his head. He stuffed it down into the foot of the sleeping bag and then pushed Brenda's shirt to her armpits, to that they lay together: fevered flesh pushed tightly against fevered flesh. He could just feel the slight scratchyness of Brenda's bra and shirt on his lower stomach and pelvis.

Then he felt something different. Since he had climbed into the tent with Brenda, Paul's cock had been rock hard. He missed her taking his pants and boxers down, but that was understandable. Now he felt her moving nearer to his cock, which moved and twitched in the small amount of space in front of Brenda's face. Then it happened. It wasn't the first time Paul had received head, and he knew that it wouldn't be the last time. But in a way, it did feel like it was the very first time. Paul was panicked. Would he cum too soon? It was after all, a literally perfect moment for him. But he couldn't worry too terribly much, mainly because his upper thought processes were blasted in a moments time when Brenda's lips just brushed the side of his swollen cock head as she rubbed her cheek against it. Paul was leaking pre-cum like he hadn't cum in weeks--but it hadn't been a week since he was jerking off to pictures of Brenda on the computer.

Then her cheek disappeared, and Paul's breathing slowed down a bit. He thought for a moment, wondering what happened as he rested gently between Brenda's thighs. His chest rising and falling, lifting and lowering her body on top of his. He could feel her breathing, sometimes in in sync, sometimes in counter time--but always strikingly intimate. Then Paul leaned forward, his mouth seeking Brenda's sweet, sweet pussy again. He didn't mind if she didn't suck his cock. He was happy enough where he was. Under Brenda, her pussy lips in his mouth as his tongue darted in and out of her. Then his eyes crossed and his tongue froze in spot, buried as deeply inside of Brenda as he could get it. She had just taken his cock into her mouth, pulling with her lips and tongue, pushing down with her head, taking Paul's cock into her mouth, then her throat.

While Paul's neck and tongue might have frozen in place, his hips gained a mind of their own. Either that, or like a dinosaur, Paul had a brain or at least a packet of nerves in his ass that controlled his back half. His feet moved until they rests flat on the ground, then his pelvis lifted off the ground slightly, rocking his cock into Brenda's mouth and throat gently. Easing more of himself into her, helping her. He could feel her hands gripping him, and his hands moved to do the same to her, trapping her hips to his chest, keeping her from wiggling away. Paul could feel the slight clenching of Brenda's throat as it got used to his cock being in there, but her fierce grip kept him from pulling away or removing any of it from her throat. She wanted him where he was, buried all the way inside of her. Apprently she didn't mind where it was buried either. Paul was more than happy to help out his dear Brenda in any undertaking she started.

Paul's eyes finally straightened out, which didn't make much difference since his eyes were needed for oral sex inside of a pitchblack and musky sleeping bag. The whole bag had the heady aroma of Brenda's wet and aggrivated pussy. It was heaven on Earth, as much as could be. Paul's legs kept his hips pumping up against Brenda's mouth, and his hands kept her hips tight to his chest so his tongue could stab into her core over and over again. The quick penetration of her body was only interupted at times by the sudden licking up and down of Paul's tongue, in wide swipes to cover her whole pussy, or tiny little specific licks between her lips. And of course, to trap her clit in his lips and suck as hard as he could manage, then to tickle her clit with the tip of his tongue, or to swirl around it a dozen times. Paul was putting all of his knowledge to use, of course Brenda didn't know most of that knowledge was only gleaned from reading. He'd only had a couple of women to test on, and most of them didn't care for anything fancy or too drawn out.

Paul's legs did indeed have a mind of their own. When Brenda's throat swallowed around his cock in her throat, his legs would lift his off the ground. When she swirled her tongue around the shaft and head, his legs lifted him off the ground. Paul was half afraid he would flip the two of them end over end if she kept it up, with the way his legs were jerking and lifting the pair of them into air.

 

[Arioso]

Brenda had heard all of the crude, joking remarks about the "beast with two backs" whenever sex became the topic of conversation at parties. She'd always gotten the joke, of course, but never, ever had she really understood the deep, primal truth of it until now.

Locked together with Paul, with her lips squeezing his shaft while he tongued her pussy, she experienced a brilliant, intoxicating flash of clarity. They were joined as one...so lost in the pleasure of each other...and she never wanted to let him go.

Her arms tightened around his legs as if to permanently bind him to her, yet her touch was sensual and loving rather than imprisoning. Brenda let her hands wander over his ass and his inner thighs and felt herself sinking, almost hypnotically, into a single, dedicated purpose: making love to Paul's stiffened cock with her lips and tongue.

She'd given a few blow jobs before, but always out of a sense of obligation. Her sexual experience only dated back a year or so, if you didn't count the mild petting that went on in high school dates, and Brenda hadn't gotten beyond the "eww" state of mind when it came to sucking a guy off. But, then, the few times she'd done it had been with guys she'd dated only 2-3 times and barely knew, making the act seem awkward and too closely associated with peeing in her timid imagination.

This, however, was Paul.

Paul whom she knew better than anyone -- so well that to all their friends, they seemed to have an uncanny, psychic sense about each other. And laving her tongue over his rigid flesh, suckling on the silky soft crown, no longer seemed like just a "blow job"...Brenda realized now why women did it. It was another way to get to know Paul as intimately as possible, and to show him that he could trust her. As well as she knew him, she'd just discovered a whole new level to explore, and she was ravenous to know everything.

Above all, with a startling thump of her heart, Brenda realized she wanted to know what he tasted like. She, who had always been squeamish about swallowing -- she found herself wildly hoping that Paul would cum in her mouth.

And so she glided her wet lips up and down his cock hungrily, laving him from balls to tip with her tongue, devouring him with all the zeal that movie stars poured into their dramatic, if phony, onscreen kisses. Only this was real -- this was really Brenda, using her mouth in silent entreaty to coax Paul to give her all the lust and heat that was boiling inside him. She swirled her tongue in teasing circles around his tip...curved her tongue into a firmer point and tickled the ridged underside of his shaft...grew bolder and let her hands begin to fondle his balls, her fingers fanning out and occasionally brushing along the cleft between his ass.

All of which Brenda did on animal instinct, because Paul was far from idle, and what he was doing was driving all rational thought from her mind.

As Paul's hips slowly rocked in time with her seduction of his cock, he stroked his tongue in and out of her pussy. Brenda could hear how wet she was, as the soft moans she and Paul made were enhanced by a sticky, smacking sound each time Paul's tongue plunged into her depths or his fingers rubbed her slickened labia. She cursed the restraining confines of their sleeping bags as she tried to spread her thighs even further, only to feel her knees trapped. And Paul's arms tightened around her, holding her exposed sex right where he wanted it.

And so their bodies tangled together, Brenda eagerly offering her moisty, gaping pussy to the ministrations of Paul's tongue, Paul pumping his cock into her mouth with the same, effortless synchrony they shared with each other in all else...and to Brenda it truly did seem like they were a single creature. Which she didn't mind at all.

She was Paul's. She always had been.

The shuddering waves of release shook their way up from her core and she groaned around Paul's aching cock so fiercely that her cheeks vibrated against his shaft.

 

[Rhovan]

Paul Knight

Paul had found bliss, and her name was Brenda. He had never felt so relaxed. Especially with his cock in someone’s throat. He always harbored feelings that the woman in question might suddenly bite him. Or sneeze. The thought of that devastating sneeze was usually strong enough that Paul couldn’t really enjoy his trip down a woman’s throat. None of them really minded however, because it generally prevented Paul from suddenly just boiling over and pumping cum down their throats.

But at this exact moment in time, Paul knew Brenda wouldn’t do anything to hurt him unless he did something to hurt her. Not just sexually, but universally. She contained no malice, not hate within her. Paul didn’t either, but he had met quite a few people who did. Brenda was the end all, be all of women. Paul would gladly stay out here in the woods with her for the rest of existence if she would only ask. And if she wouldn’t ask, he would. Just as soon as he could think rationally again.

Paul could feel the attention Brenda was putting into her efforts. He could feel the ridges in the top of her mouth drag across the tip of his cock as she slides it back into her mouth, deeper and deeper until Paul found himself in the tight confines of a peristaltic paradise. Then she would move and pull back, slowly sliding the underside of his shaft along the slightly bumpy surface of her tongue.

And all of this inside the extremely limiting confines of a pair of joined sleeping bags. Paul couldn’t believe his luck. Course, he would gladly hop right out of the sleeping bags if it weren’t so damned cold outside. But those thoughts didn’t stay around for long. Paul could feel his world shrinking. Focusing onto that which was important to him. He lost the sense of where he was, he lost the sense of what time it was and even how time worked. Soon Paul found himself totally immersed in Brenda.

He could only hear her—her throaty moans, the beat of her heart, the wet smacking sound of his finger or tongue sliding in and out of her pussy. He could only smell Brenda—her pussy juices, her sweat, her slightly malodorous feet. All the smells mixed together, of her hiking up a hillside for the day, of her caught in the pose of unmistakable lust; the smells made up Brenda. It was both a simple, and extremely expressive explanation of her. Paul couldn’t only feel Brenda. He knew his left knee was pressing against some zipper or another, but it didn’t hurt. He could feel the sleeping bag pulled tight over his back, but he didn’t care. His fingers tips were alive with, and on Brenda.

True, his right hand was busy sending his fingers diving into Brenda’s pussy, again and again. Only stopping from that long enough to drag a fingertip around her lips, possibly to pinch her clit and to spread her cheeks enough to allow his tongue to swipe her ass. Paul wanted to do everything. To explore the infinite facets of Brenda.

But damn if that isn’t difficult to do when someone is doing a really expert job of sucking your cock.

Paul didn’t know where Brenda had gained her skills of oral love making. He didn’t care. Why? Because if it worked out like he hoped it would, she would only be using her powers on him. And that is all that matters. He hoped she wouldn’t find it too pushy, but he was damned certain they were going to end up in a similar position right often. If she did mind, he’d just have to tie her down. There is no way that Paul would ever be able to even contemplate letting Brenda go.

That train of thought was quickly derailed by the sudden increase in cock loving. Lips clasping, tongue swirling, cheeks caving in from the forces of suction. Paul was speechless. Course that might because he had a mouthful of Brenda, but she played a major part in it too. He could feel her keeping his hips in place, her fingers drifting about across his ass. He couldn’t say anything, but her movements were answered with a grunt. A good grunt.

With the situation as it was, Paul was hyper aware of every movement Brenda could make. He felt her knees shift and his hands locked around her thighs again. Oh no. She was not about to get away now. He had only given her one orgasm so far, and he had a long way to go before he had given her all the orgasms she could handle.

Then he felt it. She stiffened for a moment, then she released a groan that had started in her toes right up along the shaft of Paul’s cock. He was pleased by the sudden increase in her juices as he latched his lips onto hers and started to scoop out her juices to savor on his own tongue in that distinct burst of flavor known as Brenda.

A couple of seconds later, Paul was aware that Brenda was back at work on his cock. Sucking, teasing, rubbing, pushing and pulling. Everything she did was bringing him closer, and closer to the edge. So Paul felt it was only right to warn her. He lifted his head up. “Brenda honey, careful. You’ve got me really close now.” He tried to shift his hips and move away, but Brenda’s grip was entirely too powerful, especially with the sleeping bag pulled tight around them. “Honey. If you don’t stop I’m gona cum in your mouth.” He had to warn her. None of the ladies he knew liked that sort of carrying on.

As far as Paul could tell, Brenda didn’t respond. He gave one last
effort to pull away, which didn’t do anything other than lift Brenda off the ground a little bit. Then he groaned and his whole body relaxed on top of Brenda. He just sort of melted and laid there, his body in as much contact with Brenda as possible. Everything was relaxed in that moment but for his cock.
His cock was still just as stiff as could be, and it thrashed about in the confines of Brenda’s mouth dumping sticky, thick wad of cum, and wad of cum. His balls pulled up tight to his body, his cock hardened and grew a little more, and Paul groaned loud enough to chase off bears.

And here Paul was just getting started.

 

[Arioso]

When Brenda didn't like something, she could drag her heels more stubbornly than a cat faced with the prospect of a bath. Paul had witnessed her stubbornness at work: when her mother had tried to get her to wear dresses to school at age 7 (Brenda won the fight by simply getting them torn and muddy at recess); when her parents had started telling her she was "getting a little old for sleepovers at a boy's house" and tried to persuade her to stop staying over at Paul's once she was 14; and when there had been a school-wide debate about whether or not Hispanic students should speak Spanish with each other while at school...a debate which led to the only serious, devastating fight that Paul and Brenda had ever had.

Thank goodness the hard feelings hadn't lasted.

Because as stubborn as Brenda could be when she didn't like something, when she wanted it, there was no more determined and dedicated human being on the planet.

And for a brilliant, thrilling moment, she was now reaping the fruits of her determined, single-minded efforts to suck every rich, savory drop of cum that Paul had to offer. At the first sticky spurt from his cock, Brenda felt an uncontrollable shiver and a delicious, hot prickling wash over her skin. This was it! Paul was letting go for her...he trusted her enough. And he was sharing one of the most intimate parts of himself, letting her take it inside her so she could taste him, know him...

The slippery texture that she had always tried to ignore by swallowing it down hastily...now, because it was Paul, she wanted to roll it on her tongue for a while, even though his copious jets filled her mouth so full she had to swallow or risk letting it all dribble down her chin. So she drank down his warm seed, letting a trace of it linger all over her tongue. Brenda noticed the slightly sweet, musky taste, like sex and sugar combined. Felt the urgent, almost helpless pulsing of Paul's rigid flesh and knew how closely she held him, not just body but heart and soul.

She almost cried, she was so happy. The experience was making her heart pound as if she'd just been lifted from the earth and brought back to life. Wrapping her arms around Paul's hips and letting her hands caress his ass, she held him to her with all the tenderness of a lover, still nursing his cock in her mouth.

After several peaceful moments, Paul slowly withdrew his cock from between her lips, then began a somewhat awkward process of reorienting himself in the sleeping bag. They were in close confines, so shifting around was a little difficult, but it didn't take too long because Paul and Brend wanted the same thing.

Not just wanted....needed.

They wanted to see each other. To look into each other's eyes and find the same passion and love that was burning in their own depths reflected there.

And so, when Paul's head finally emerged from the sleeping back, Brenda's eyes instantly locked with his in a somewhat awestruck, I-can't-believe-we-just-did-this, Love-Just-Hit-Me-Like-A-Ton-of-Bricks expression. Her hands reached out to caress his cheeks...fingers threading through his hair....as as their mouths drew closer and closer together for a tender kiss.

 

[Rhovan]

Paul Knight

Paul couldn’t breath for a moment. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. All he did was thrash slightly, his muscles squeezing his whole being—his very soul out of his body. Eyes closed, lips slightly parted, Paul simply existed for several seconds as his cock pumped nearly the complete contents of his balls into Brenda’s awaiting mouth. Paul couldn’t believe it. Not three days ago, Brenda was in love with Jason.

Paul smiled. Brenda had never been in love with Jason. Paul’s smile grew. Brenda was in love with Paul.

Paul felt the rough yet silky texture of Brenda’s tongue writhing against the top of his cock, her lips forming a tight band of pressure around the base; her breath coming in sexy bursts of air against his balls. Paul didn’t want to move. Unfortunately, Paul became aware that if he didn’t move, he very well might pass out just from the heat alone in the lower half of the sleeping bag. That isn’t saying anything of the very pungent and musky nature of the heated air.

Paul could feel Brenda clutching to his lower body, holding him as if he was her child and she was cradling him carefully. She still gently sucked on his cock; keeping it hard inside of her mouth, not trying to get him off, just not ready to give up her new toy. Paul shifted. Brenda clenched down, keeping him from moving. Paul moved again, Brenda slowly, reluctantly let his cock drop from her mouth as Paul fought gravity, lanquitude and the sleeping bag to turn himself around without leaving its heated confines for the cold air of the tent.

To say the process of turning around was difficult doesn’t truly encompass the real trouble that it was. It was akin to holding a raccoon against its will. Damn near impossible. But both Paul and Brenda worked together, moving, pulling, pushing, rolling, until finally Paul managed to pop his head out the opening and take in the first of many deep breaths.

“If it wasn’t so damned hot in there, I think I could live with your scent for the rest of my life.” Paul looked to Brenda, a smile on his face, a mirth located inside of his eyes. He was happy to his very core, even to his toenails. He leaned in, his lips getting closer and closer to hers when he finally noticed the unshed tears in Brenda’s eyes. Paul pauses for a moment, suddenly unsure. “What’s wrong Brenda?”

“I’m so happy,” Brenda replied in a matter of fact way that left no chance for misinterpretation. Brenda leaned upward for a kiss, but Paul moves backwards some, keeping his lips just beyond her reach. He can smell his cum on her breath, she can smell hers on his. Both of them wore small traces of each others orgasms on their faces. Brenda had a small trail flowing just down the center of her lower lip, and Paul’s nose and cheeks were wet with his juices. At least those parts of his nose and cheeks that were out of range of his tongue.

To say Brenda looked a bit confused was an understatement. “We can’t kiss until you promise me this will never end.” Brenda still looked a bit puzzled. “Not just tonight. Not just this camping trip. But us. Please tell me this isn’t a one-night-out-in-the-woods sort of thing. Please?” Brenda had never had difficulty in reading Paul’s features, and it was almost like reading the top line of an eye chart right at that moment. Paul, in all of his vulnerability, was looking to be re-assured that not only did they still love one another as friends, but that they would be able to continue to love one another as lovers.

With an emotional and breathy voice, Paul made his final plea. “Please don’t say this was a mistake Brenda…tonight is the first time in weeks that I have finally felt normal. Felt whole. Please…” Paul rested his forehead against Brenda’s, their lips still hovering just apart from one another, as Paul’s eyes squeezed shut to hold back his tears. His tears of joy and accomplishment, his tears of being afraid of what he might be denied. His tears that the love of his life, quite possibly wont feel the same.

 

[Arioso]

"I promise."


The words were whispered against Paul's lips as Brenda wrapped her arms more tightly and reassuringly around her best friend and now lover.

The maelstrom of emotions churning in her breast left her dizzy. Brenda felt the kind of psychic vertigo that happened when a situation was both familiar and breathtakingly new. On the one hand, she and Paul had been here before, tons of times. Whenever he needed reassurance or a pep talk about his most private hopes and fears, Paul always turned to Brenda. It was one of the things she loved about him most.

Yet on the other hand, fireflies were darting about and glowing in her stomach because Brenda was plummeting through full-on emotional free-fall at the thought of where she and Paul were going with this. For a split-second, she'd panicked at the idea that she had to decide the rest of her life right now. For Pete's sake, she was too young to be picking out china patterns! But she'd also felt herself growing giddy at how many ways she wanted to spend a long, long, long time just being together with Paul...as lovers as well as friends...

It made her feel drunk. It made her feel like she was wide awake while the whole rest of the world was sleeping. Brenda almost giggled...it made her want to howl at the moon and run naked through the woods.

But that would mean letting go of Paul and she wasn't ready to do that yet.

"Paul, I promise you this wasn't a mistake," Brenda continued softly, letting her hands slip up underneath his shirt and massage slow circles on his skin. "And I won't let this be a one-night-in-the-woods thing...not when we just started. I love you, Paul. I want to see where that takes us...what it will feel like to make love with you. Not just out here, but at your apartment, when I stay over not because I fell asleep on your couch, but because we both want to be together. I want to know what it's like to dance with you at a party not because it's what we've always done, but because we want to hold each other. And that's only the stuff I can think of right now...I'm sure I'll come up with more as we keep going, and that's going to take lots and lots of time...and now I'm babbling...I'll just stop now and say I love you and I don't want this to be just a one-time thing...and will you please kiss me now?"

Brenda tried to keep the pleading tone out of her voice. She hated to sound whiny, so she whined as little as possible. But she'd always had problems with patience and right now she wanted nothing more than to kiss Paul, then to remove the rest of their clothes and feel him, skin on skin.

And a very intimate but insistent part of her was aching to feel his rigid flesh filling her up.

However, Brenda tried to rein in her impulsiveness and just hold Paul until he was ready. She was still so deliriously happy that they'd made it to this point that everything seemed a little surreal to her. Paul's skin felt warm and pliant against her palms. Brenda mapped the expanse of his back with her fingers, revelling in discoveries that seemed so new even though she'd seen his back hundreds of times. Only now, it was like an intimate form of reading braille...she felt a tiny mole and memorized where it was...learned which contours were where...and most importantly, took note of his responses to her touch.

As she waited for Paul to emerge from his shell, she permitted herself to plant a few, gentle butterfly kisses on his cheeks. Paul seemed to relax. His breathing grew more even and steady. His body seemed to mold itself comfortably to hers. When Brenda brushed her lips over his mouth, he didn't pull away and she managed to tease a hesitant, fleeting kiss out of him. Just a brief clasping of lips.

Paul opened his eyes and gazed penetratingly into hers, drawing her soul to the surface so that they were both naked and vulnerable to each other. Entranced, Brenda leaned close to press her mouth against his, and this time she dared to insinuate just the hint of her tongue between Paul's lips. Shyly, Paul's tongue met and tangled with hers for just a moment. Their lips parted for the span of a heartbeat. Then joined together again, this time lingering a little longer. Their tongues slid along each other, wet and heavy. When they broke the kiss, their breathing had quickened. Once more, they sank into a kiss, this time long, slow, and so saturated with their need for each other that it left both of them trembling.

When they finally broke for air, Brenda was flushed and panting. She gazed at Paul, seeing in his expression that he wanted to say something but wasn't quite finding the words...