No. 23 Butt stuff
twenty-two
August
“Idon’t think getting attacked by a bear was on my list.” Bea gnaws nervously on her bottom lip as she looks out the windscreen of my truck, where I’ve parked up at the rest stop at the edge of the woods.
“We’re in Somerset, sunshine. There are no bears around,” I tell her, amusement lacing my words, and because I just can’t help myself, I add, “You’re more likely to get bitten by an adder.”
Her head snaps to the side to stare at me in wide-eyed panic.
“They’re not toilet snakes though, so you’re not afraid, right?
” I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from smiling, because this woman seems to keep me smiling all the livelong day.
Who even am I? My attempts to control my lips don’t work and her fear turns into relieved annoyance as she throws her empty water bottle at me.
“You’re an arsehole.” Then with another worried glance out the window she adds, “There aren’t really snakes out there are there?”
“Probably,” I say. When she nibbles on her lips again, I take her chin between my thumb and fingers and turn her to look at me. “I promise no snakes will be anywhere near us, sunshine. I’ll protect you from snakes and bears and wild boar.”
“There are boar?”
I lean in and kiss her lips. “No. Now come on, there are many items on your list to cross off tonight.”
I don’t wait for her to reply, jumping out of the cab and grabbing the supplies I brought, waiting for her to join me. It’s been two weeks since the village fete and the start of tourist season has kept both of us busy, but we’ve spent every night together, switching between her place and mine.
It was last Wednesday when she was laid out on my couch while I played video games with Connor and Eli online and she suddenly sat bolt upright with a gasp that damn near had my heart jumping out of my throat when I realised I was in love with Bea.
Her eyes were still glued to her kindle, shiny with tears as she read whatever it was in her book that had her so thrown.
Me and my house, Port Doone and the rest of the world had melted away, and she was caught in her imagination, feeling everything and loving every moment.
I don’t know why this was the moment of realisation, but it hit me like a spear to my chest, and I’ve been struggling to keep the words to myself for days.
It’s not that I’m afraid. I’m fucking terrified.
I thought I knew what love is, thought I’d felt it before, but whatever is happening to me right now is as alien as anal probing.
Bea is the light to my dark, the softness to my hard edges, and the joy to my sombre.
She makes me laugh and crave fun and carefree enjoyment, which are things I’ve been actively avoiding for so long I can hardly remember why.
There’s been so much going on in my life I had to complain about, so much I felt was weighing me down.
But in the weeks Bea and I have been exploring what’s between us, she’s cut the strings tethering me to my bad mood.
I’m in love with her and I’m going to tell her tonight, after I’ve fucked her silly and introduced her to ‘butt stuff’ as her list so poetically calls it. My dick is throbbing in anticipation.
When Bea rounds the truck, I hold my hand out for her, and we start walking along the trail hikers like to take up to the steep incline of the hills.
We won’t be going that far, which is just as well as Bea is wearing white canvas trainers, despite me telling her to wear walking shoes.
Before we reach rougher terrain, I steer us off the well-trodden path bringing us to the stream.
It’s early evening which means the sun is still warm and bright, but most people have headed back to the village or their hotels outside the village for the evening, eating their dinners and probably heading to the pub for drinks that will carry them through the night.
We find a flat enough area for me to pull the picnic blanket out of the backpack I brought with me, laying it out and gesturing for Bea to sit.
We ate before we left, and I told Bea to shower as we were staying out overnight and there was nowhere to wash up properly until we get back tomorrow morning.
Pulling a bottle of the wine I know she likes out from my bag with two plastic glasses, I pour us both a glass, hers bigger than mine as I want her relaxed for what I have planned.
Not drunk, I’m not that kind of arsehole.
“Thank you.” She beams at me, taking the offered glass.
“It’s really beautiful here.” She takes in the surrounding forest and the stream babbling in front of us.
We’re secluded here, if anyone was taking a late evening stroll along the hiking path, they wouldn’t see us tucked away among the brush.
“Are we really sleeping out here?” She looks around worried, clearly wondering about the lack of sleeping bags and a tent.
I pull the folded paper from my pocket and make a show of flapping it about until it unravels, and I can see the list written on the lined page. Clearing my throat, I squint down at it even though I can see it perfectly. “Let me see.”
“You stole my list?” She feigns annoyance.
“I commandeered it, for reference,” I correct her. “Number fifteen, sleep under the stars. That’s what we’re doing tonight.”
She looks up, where the sun is still keeping the sky bright blue. “Here? Literally nothing but us and the stars?”
“Are you ready to sleep?” I ask knowing the answer.
“No.”
“Then don’t worry about that right now.” I take her glass and rest it on the ground away from the comfort of our blanket. “Right now, I want to eat you out.”
Her eyes go round, her luscious mouth falling open before I lean in and take it in a searing kiss.
Bea melts for me like she always does, she’s so receptive to my touch, always so willing to yield to my demands.
Bea whimpers as my tongue curls around hers, her hands gripping into my shirt as I lean over her, easing her to her back on the plaid blanket.
“What do you say, sunshine, can I eat your pretty pussy out here in the open?” I keep my voice low and deep against her ear and revel in the way her body shivers beneath me.
“August,” she pants, hot, sweet breath skimming my cheek and over my lips.
“It’s getting you wet, isn’t it?” I rumble against her, my palm skimming up the creamy smoothness of her thigh to where the ripped hem of her shorts covers her.
My fingers slip inside the denim to press into the soft give of her arse cheek.
“Thinking of me getting my mouth on you out here where anyone could find us.”
My dick is already starting to swell. I’m nestled between her legs, where she’s spread to welcome me, so I grind against her.
Between my jeans and her shorts, I can’t feel the heat of her, but I know it’s there, I know her panties must be getting soaked from the way she’s squirming under me.
Even after such a short time, I feel I can read Bea’s body like one of her books.
She doesn’t try to hide anything from me, doesn’t try to play things cool, she whimpers and keens, begs and pleads, and I lap it all up like the greedy bastard I am.
“Yeah,” she admits, looking up at me with begging eyes as I flick the button of her jean shorts open.
My large hand struggles to wedge between her underwear and her bare pussy where her shorts are so figure-hugging, but I manage to get into position to cup her, not to stroke or tease, just to feel how wet she is for me.
“You’re fucking soaked, sunshine,” I rasp. “Is this all for me?”
“God, yes,” she whines. “Touch me, August, please.”
“I am touching you,” I say. “Are you saying you need more?”
“Yes, please,” she begs, blue eyes shining with need.
“Tell me then. Tell me exactly what you need.” I lean down and kiss her tenderly, stroking my lips over the soft pillow of hers.
“I want your fingers,” she chokes. “I-inside me.”
“Hmm,” I rumble. “You want me to fuck you with my fingers, Bea?”
“Yeah. Yes, please.”
“No,” I say sharply, pulling my hand away from her. “I told you I want to eat you out.”
Ignoring her distressed little sounds, I kneel between her thighs and work her shorts and underwear over her hips and down her legs. Her eyes start darting around and she squirms uncomfortably. “What if someone sees?”
“No one is going to see,” I tell her gently.
“We’d hear them before they could see anything, and no one is around here at this time of night.
” I look down at her, and she nods with her bottom lip pinched between her teeth, so I stop undressing her and give her a serious expression.
“But if you don’t feel comfortable doing this, we can stop. ”
“I don’t want to stop,” she answers very quickly, and I grin.
“Okay then, spread your legs for me.”
When her shorts and underwear are free, she does exactly as she’s told, knees bent, feet flat on the blanket and as wide apart as she can get them, my broad shoulders needing all the space she can offer.
I kiss her mouth quickly before trailing my lips down her neck.
My hands push the hem of her tank up over her stomach and breasts.
She’s wearing a simple cotton bra in candy pink with lace trim, and I lick over the edge and under the fabric a little.
Her chest moves in sharp breaths, her hands cradling my head to her, keeping me close and encouraging me to keep going. I nip at the skin over her ribs and kiss the slight softness of her belly, dipping my tongue into her belly button, which makes her giggle and me smile.
Both hips get a tender kiss and then my lips are traversing over her pubis and my tongue darts out to slide between her pussy lips.
Bea moans, low and throaty, her back arching as I work over her clit, keeping my touch light and teasing, soft and sensual.
I wrap my lips over her nub and suck gently, my tongue swirls her entrance and laps at her flavour.