It makes his hands feel borrowed from some Olympian myth. His cock simmers and uncoils, pushing against the snugness of his briefs. He oils his palms...again and leans his weight into the heels of his hands as he presses them into the dimples above her ass. He leans, pushes down against her, waits – waits a little longer – then lets his hands plow upward along her back, over her shoulders. She lets a sigh escape. He knows she didn’t mean to, afraid the others might hear. His ripening cock. This week, however, the weather is perfect. Temperatures in the seventies during the day and dropping only to the upper fifties at night. Calm or only light breezes and mostly clear skies with only a few small clouds. And tonight there will be a moon just at the first quarter. We had brought our blanket into one of the deeper wooded spots of the campus and now we lay together in a small depression some thirty yards or so off any trail. Tom kissed me again and pulled me tightly against him, our. More

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