Free Coming Together: Special Hurricane Relief Edition by Alessia Brio Page A

than
ever.
    Karen
slipped through between her tent and Justin's and Sarah's and then
climbed the hillside toward the latrine. She wondered if he'd come,
if he'd follow her. She was beginning, now, to feel guilty about
having made the offer.
    "I
never should have grabbed it," she thought. "That was so
unfair." But what if he didn't? She'd be so ashamed to face him
if he didn't. She kicked an inoffensive pine cone off the trail.
    "Oh,
fuck! What a slut I am!" she lamented aloud.
    "Me,
too."
    "Gene!
Thank goodness!" His arms slid in through the sides of the
poncho; his warm hands slid over her belly from behind her. One
cupped a breast, and the other—
    "Oh,
Gene!" she breathed. "Now you have to!"
    His
fingers pushed in and out of her hot cunt. Her juices flowed, her
nipple rose under his thumb, her head leant back on his collarbone.
As she held his invading hand hard against her mound their wedding
rings clacked together. Delicious sensations spread along the line
from the breast to her hardening clit.
    "I
want to eat it," he said.
    "Yes!"
She lifted up the slick yellow front by lifting her arms. Under he
went, avid to taste her. "Oh, yes." There was a metallic
click. He had shifted his hand to grab the panties, and then another
pull could be felt. "What...?"
    "Hold
right still!" Another pull and she was naked.
    "My
God! You cut them off!" His mouth was on her now. His tongue had
barely touched her when her come took her breath away.
    She
made a noise that he recognized at once. "Gotcha," he said.
    Her
hands clutched his head and she moaned, helpless with sudden lust.
His lips drew her into his mouth and his tongue flicked the flesh.
He'd made her come so quickly—her knees were water.
    "Oh
God, Gene...!" He could feel her holding onto his head for
support. "You bastard!"
    "Lean
on the tree, baby; there you are," he spoke soothingly and went
back to his tongue work once she had braced herself. She could feel
the rough bark against her back through the slicker; her pussy gave
her little sparks and thrills against his hot mouth. The rain pelted
down. It was gorgeous.
    Under
the poncho it was not quite dark, but the parts he wanted most to see
were completely blotted out. She tasted fabulous and she was so
ardent he felt flattered. The wet beech leaves soaked through the
knees of the light cotton instantly, and a rivulet was streaming,
tickling madly, from the back of his head down his neck and along his
ribs. Her chest heaved and her nipples were springy-hard—she
would shudder if he brushed them roughly enough along his palm. The
rain made a crisp continuous rattle that echoed and distorted oddly
as the space enclosed changed its shape.
    The
rain smell, the wet leaf smell, the sweet-musky woodsy pungence all
mixed with the sharp tang of pussy in the close air. Then a breath of
cool was drawn in, followed by complete openness. She'd thrown the
poncho off entirely. The rain struck in as she shook her head and, he
thought, grinned down at him. He could see the pale masses of her
breasts, but no detail. "Gene!"
    "Mmm?"
    She
grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled upwards. "Fuck me! Take
that thing off!" Gene arose clumsily, stepping on the poncho,
hastily removing pajama and poncho at once. Her hand scooped down,
she drove her fingers into her hungry cunt, urging him to hurry. She
had already knelt when he emerged, and she turned her ass to him, a
pale mass, unmistakable. The rain felt cold at first, but once he'd
entered her he stopped noticing. Her wet ass flattened against his
hips, she called his name.
    "Karen,
this is so fuckin' nice!" Wet slaps of hip on hip set the beat
for their cries of encouragement and appreciation.
    Karen
had been too many weeks without this feeling—cock! Sweet cock
slamming in, deep in her cunt as God intended. The rain made it more
thrilling, as the sensation involved her whole skin in heat and cold,
friction, chill and the ancient rhythm of sex. She pushed up higher
into him—it was too deep,