“Selina, do you think breakfast will be ending at ten today?” Marcus called from the sink as he shaved.
“I don’t know,” Selina called back from across the room. She jumped slightly as she zipped her jeans. “It may be later because there are no morning sessions, but I don’t know.”
“Shhhh!” Viviane shushed, taking the cock from her mouth. “Guys, there are still some people sleeping.”
“It’s okay,” I groaned, opening my eyes. “I’m up now.”
“Yeah, looks like you’re up, all right,” Marcus said, wiping his neck with a hand towel. “Rising and shining, big boy.”
“Aw, Jefferson, did they wake you with all that shouting?” Viviane asked, her hand gently massaging my cock.
“Well, that, and the blowjob,” I yawned. “It’s a wonder I sleep at all.”
“Yeah, well, you’re going to miss breakfast, sleeping beauty,” Selina said. “It’s over in about twenty minutes.”
“Hmmm, twenty minutes . . . ,” I stretched, closing my eyes.
“You guys can go ahead,” Viviane said. “I’ll get him up.”
“You’ve got him up,” Marcus said. “Just get him off. We’re not saving any bacon.” He kicked my feet with a crutch as he passed.
The screen door slammed behind them.
“Sweetie, are you going to get up for breakfast?” Viviane asked.
“Hmmmm, we’ll see.” I yawned again. “Go ahead with what you’re doing. I’ll be . . . ,” my voice trailed away into another yawn.
“Poor baby,” she said, wrapping her mouth around my cock. “Up so late . . . ” she licked down my shaft. “Not sleeping at all . . .”
“Mmmm-hmmm,” I nodded, my eyes closed. “No rest for the wicked.”
Lolita’s explosive blowjob just before dawn had tapped my last reservoir. Afterwards, we lounged across mattresses in the orgy room until I collected Marcus to help him limp back to the cabin.
He refused to leave the Garden until he was certain that no one was left.
He found a girl wandering in search of a cute boy she had met earlier. He decided that she must be referring to Felix, the boy he had refused to share the night before. He offered to escort her to Felix’s cot.
“Marcus, come on,” I complained. “I’m beat.”
“Just one minute, Jefferson—God. It’s too hard to explain how to find Felix. I’ll just take her there.” He trundled off on his crutches, chatting amicably with the woman he had just met.
I turned to Lolita. “So, I guess I’m supposed to wait here while he delivers a horny girl to a boy he’s already fucked?”
“Think he’ll be back?” she asked.
“Not if there’s a remote chance of sex, no.” I dug the toe of my sandal into the ground.
“Well, you know . . .” Lolita began. She twirled her hands in one another and turned on her most coquettish smile. “If you don’t have any other plans, and you would like it, you are welcome to come back to my cabin . . . and, you know . . .”
I looked her in the eyes. “Sleep over?”
She nodded. I’d have sworn she was blushing.
“You don’t have a cuddle date tonight?”
She shook her head, raising a finger to her teeth.
I smiled. I took her shoulders and kissed her cheek. “I’d like that, Lolita, but I need to wake up elsewhere in the morning.”
“I understand,” she nodded. “I’m very understanding.”
“So I understand.” I squeezed her arm. “And thanks.”
A screen door closed. I looked up to see Marcus making his way back to us. He was alone.
“I dunno,” he said. “I don’t think Felix was all that happy to see her.”
“Well, Marcus, you did wake him in the middle of the night to drop some stranger on him,” I pointed out.
“Wouldn’t you like that?” he asked. “I mean, seriously, if I woke you up and said, ‘here’s this girl who wants to fuck you,’ wouldn’t you be happy about that?”
“In the twenty years I’ve known you, the flow of girls has gone in one direction only,” I sighed. “If you ever brought a girl to me, awake or asleep, I would be too stunned for words.”
Marcus looked at me. “No . . . fuck, are you serious? Is that true?”
We were walking away from the Garden. Lolita stopped and looked back. “Wait, is she coming too? She’s from my cabin.”
“No, I made her undress and get into bed with Felix,” Marcus said, tossing off any further concern for the woman he had just squired. “Now, seriously, are you for real about the sharing girls thing?”
We left Lolita at her cabin, each of us kissing her goodnight in turn.
Our discussion continued as we walked slowly back to the cabin. Marcus recalled every woman we have ever fucked in common, and one by one, I reminded him that I had introduced each to him.
Marcus was restless, so we decided on a nightcap. I poured bourbons as he situated himself in a harness hanging from a tree. I settled for a nearby hammock.
We drank and talked as old friends do.
I brushed my teeth before helping Marcus into bed. I kissed him goodnight and told him I loved him. I crawled gingerly into bed with Viviane, kissing her shoulder lightly.
The sky outside was gray with morning light.
I woke from a dreamless sleep to the sounds of my friends’ voices in my ears, and to the sensations of my friend’s mouth on my cock.
The cabin was quiet as people went to breakfast, or returned to prepare for their days. Our cabin mates milled about, tending to their own concerns as Viviane blew me.
She seemed not to notice. Viviane and I were in a private space in full public view.
I pulled her up to kiss me. Our bodies turned as I lowered myself to her, pressing my hips into hers. She moaned as we kissed.
Wordlessly, I fished for a condom.
She fairly splashed as I entered her.
I spread her legs, holding them back as I fucked her slow and deep, waiting for her to ask for more.
There are advantages to knowing your lover.
Viviane knows how to take what she wants from my body. I know how to give it to her. I know when she wants more, and when she’s had enough. And when, again, she wants more.
Yet I so rarely write about Viviane. This is by her request, as she prefers to remain “off blog” in our relationship. She’s not too keen to read about her sex life in blogs.
Mind you, many are the times she’s turned to me during an intense moment to say, “You’re going to blog this, right?”
As we prepared for sex camp, I told her it would be pretty difficult to write about our shared experience without reference to her. “I mean, it’s going to look ridiculous to tell this story without you. It will be too great a void.”
“Okay, sweetie,” she acquiesced. “This time you can write about me.”
“Thanks, baby,” I had replied, lowering my tongue once more to lap at her clit.
On the way to camp, she added one condition: “You can’t blog my driving!” she had laughed, veering from one lane to the next.
A truck horned blared in protest.
“Of course not, that’s fine,” I had agreed, my knuckles white on my knees. “Anyway, I write nonfiction. No one would believe it.”
That Sunday morning began our last day of sex camp. That night we would head home. Viviane, God help us, would be at the wheel.
That Sunday morning, she came for me, oblivious to the people around us.
I had her come again as I held her close. Her yelps filled the cabin.
“Thanks for that, Viv,” I kissed her as she caught her breath.
“Thank you for coming home last night,” she whispered.
“Shhh,” I pet her hair. “Of course.”
She looked into my eyes. “Bacon?”
“I think so, yes.” I bit her nose.
We dressed quickly, hoping to make it to breakfast before the buffet closed.
She brushed her hair vigorously, keeping a mental tally of the strokes. I wet my hair, combing it with my fingers.
“Did you enjoy the Garden last night?” she asked as we departed.
“Oh, it was fine. I’ll tell you all about it,” I said, holding the door. “How was the lesbian party? Much fun?”
“No, not really,” she sighed. “And no sex.”
“Ha! Didn’t I predict as much?” I laughed.
My arm went around her shoulder.
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