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Glen palms my flesh and then drags a calloused thumb over my pebbled nipple, causing me to moan into our kiss and arch my back to push closer to him.
When his hand keeps moving down, I think I might come out of my skin with the anticipation. His roughened skin scratches lightly against my ribs and then strong fingers knead into the flesh of my hip before slipping under the fleece of my camp pants.
"Fucking hell, baby." Glen's dark growl is barely audible where he curses against my throat. "These panties are fucking soaked, Sugar."
And then his eyes are on mine. The dilated pupils reflecting the fire make him look far more dangerous than anything that could be lurking in the woods around us but I've never felt safer-- or needier.
"Tell me that's because of me." His voice is thick with possession as he inches a blunt fingertip slowly between my folds and begins to slip it through my wetness.
Heat blooms where he touches and I move on the blanket beside him, raising a knee to give him better access.
When that thick digit presses to my entrance, I let out a moan but he hesitates, teasing, leaving me aching for him to touch me completely.
"Tell me, Sugar." Glen leans close and whispers against my ear. "Tell me you're wet for me, baby."
"For you," I manage to rasp out as his delves beyond the gate of my core. "I'm wet for you, Glen."
"You're fucking tight, Sugar." I can hear the strain in his voice as his single finger wiggles deeper inside me, filling me the way I've never felt before.
"Sorry," I pant heavily, tipping my hips to grind against the heel of his hand. "I've never done this before."
I'm shameless in my need for release, grasping Glen's wrist and pulling his hand harder to my throbbing core when suddenly he's moved over me again, pressing me firmly into the soft earth beneath the blanket.
"What do you mean, Sugar?" His voice is dark as the night outside the reach of the fire, pinning my hips to the ground beneath him with the hand that still has one finger pressed inside. "You mean you've never been finger-fucked by a campfire before?"
Half a grin perks up one corner of his full lips under his whiskers as he looks down at me with a predatory gaze that sends a new flood of need over his hand.
"Never been finger-fucked at all," I correct. "Please," I beg, "keep doing what you were doing."
"Better fucking believe it, Sugar." He begins that delicious stroking inside me again, moving in and out slowly this time, gathering my wetness and working me till my body is moving in time with his strokes.
I'm aching and needy, clutching the front of his t-shirt with one hand and the back of his neck with my other.
"Let's see if two fit." It's barely a whisper and I'm not sure he's even talking to me.
Glen's hand moves and a second finger slips between my lower lips, joining the first as they draw along my seam and circle my clit. Fuck! I'm so close, it hurts.
Then two of his thick fingers move together, pushing past my entrance. I feel my body being stretched deliciously as he pumps, holding his hand hard against my mound while I moan and buck against him.
"You ever been fucked at all, Sugar?"
Glen's voice is somewhere far away, it seems, hoarse and urgent.
I shake my head from side to side.
A strangled noise comes from somewhere near my ear.
"You want to get fucked tonight." It doesn't sound much like a question but the answer is absolutely yes.
"Yes," I'm nodding my head, feeling the blanket twisting under me, my braid undone as my hair tangles from my writhing. "Yes, Glen, I want you to fuck me tonight."
My body ignites. Muscles stop responding to brain signals, everything tenses, and I explode in spasms that wring a primal kind of cry out of me.
It's not my first orgasm-- but it's the first one I've shared with another person and it's definitely the first one that has me understanding what all the fuss is about.
I go limp until Glen begins slowly playing his fingers again. Slow, gentle strokes that make me jump when he gets close to my over-sensitized bud. It doesn't take long till I'm feeling that itch again, the need for him to give me more.
He pulls his hand off of me and I groan in protest.
