The salty taste was intoxicating. My tongue stroked and soothed and then penetrated, darting ever deeper. A cry and she arched her back, angling her h...ps upwards. I cupped my hands under that fantastic arse, feeling the muscles moving, as her hips writhed. I knew she was close. My tongue lapped then probed, lapped then probed, deeper each time. Her hips bucked again. My hands gripped her bottom, and at the crucial moment I dug my nails in hard. She cried out, pleasure and pain combining, as her. The next morning I rose about 10:00. Peaking my head out of the doorway of the tent, I could smell coffee. Good enough. I slide into a pr of sweats, and a plain white tee. Sliding into my flip flops head out for some hot brew. The rain is still coming down. I pour up some coffee, then into the supply tent for some pop tarts. Sitting down at one of the tables, the wind has died down, just the rain. In a few Dustin emerges, and joins me. He sets down grinning, as expected. “Oh gawd Matthew—you. More

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