The Longest Light
by Uther Pendragon
anon584c.nyx.net

If you are under the age of 18, or otherwise forbidden by law to read electronically transmitted erotic material, please go do something else.

This material is Copyright, 2002, Uther Pendragon. All rights reserved. I specifically grant the right of downloading and keeping ONE electronic copy for your personal reading so long as this notice is included. Reposting requires previous permission.

If you have any comments or requests, please E-mail them to me at [email protected].

All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as public figures in the background, are figments of my imagination and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.


The Longest Light
by Uther Pendragon
anon584c.nyx.net


"Lauren, I just don't like the idea of your going off for the night to celebrate a pagan holiday."

"But Mom ..." She only had to keep talking until Samantha showed up.

"Don't 'But, Mom,' me."

"Mother," said Lauren, swallowing the "but." "You said that I could go. It's Samantha, for goodness sakes. The boys would laugh themselves silly if we chickened out now. They camp there all the turnings of the year. They do it on the winter solstice."

"It's still awfully cold up there."

"We'll have one of those 'space blanket' things, and a tent. Wrap a person tight in a space blanket, and they'll burn to death from their own body heat."

"Who told you that?"

"Dunno. Hal or Sam. I'm sure that they didn't try for themselves, but Lance and Hal went up there in the middle of December. Remember the cold snap? They've done it for years. Their parents trusted them to look after each other when Lance was maybe ten. Why do boys get to do things, and girls don't?" Mom was a feminist when it suited her.

Her mother's look meant that she knew what game Lauren was playing. "Well, I never said that you couldn't. I just said that it was silly. And sounds pagan, too."

"It isn't pagan. It's astronomical. It's just that people knew those simple facts long before Christianity. If you want pagan, look at Easter eggs. The solstice happens to be an important date of the solar year."

The discussion (her mother insisted that they didn't have arguments) ended as Lauren knew it would. Sam honked for her in the driveway. Lauren shoved her sleeping bag and other necessities in the back seat of Sam's shocking pink Suburban and climbed into the front seat beside her. They were off. The boys in their jeep, with the spaceblanket and tent, turned in behind them just before they got to the expressway.

"I'm really grateful to you for covering for me," Sam began. She was watching the car ahead, but she knew this part of the route.

"Hey! What are friends for?" Lauren answered. She was glad to cover for her friend, but she was looking forward to the time with Harold as well. "A little nervous?"

"Naw! Not a little nervous. Absolutely petrified, maybe. Actually, all this worry -- about my mother's finding out or your mother's pulling the plug -- saves me from worrying about the main event."

After a pause, Samantha laughed.

"What's so funny?" Lauren asked. At least, Sam was coming out of her funk. Lauren's first time was going to be fun, and she would damn-well wait until it would be. Would it be with Harold? She couldn't picture anyone else, but he wasn't her first boyfriend. Nor was she Hal's first girlfriend by a long shot; he was in college and an experienced man, however often she called him a boy to her mother. Was Hal willing to wait until it would be fun for her?

"Remember a few years ago? Seen any little kids recently? The reason they really envy adults is that adults get to stay up instead of going to bed." They shared the laugh.

When they got to the turnoff into the park, Sam got out, Lauren scooted into the driver's seat, and Hal got in. Sam walked back to join Lance in Hal's jeep. "The things you'll do for a friend, hey?" Hal said.

"And you'll do for a brother." She watched the road ahead as the car bumped along.

"Yeah, spending an entire evening with a pretty girl when I could be home studying thermo. But no sacrifice is too great for my brother's happiness."

"It's no real sacrifice to spend the time with a handsome man, either." Harold wasn't really handsome; but one compliment deserved the other, she not being really pretty. His face was definitely masculine, however, a little blocky, a few scars left over from acne, eyebrows like a hedge. Although you could see the family resemblance, Lance had almost androgynous good looks.

Harold definitely had the family hands, though. Lance's were the envy of the orchestra, but Hal's fingers were several millimeters longer. "Totally wasted on an engineer," she and Sam had agreed. Lauren was no longer so sure of that. He had evoked some delightful feelings with those fingers. There was more to life, not that she could tell Sam this, than music.

"Coming up," said Hal. She saw the turn onto the rutted dirt road. Soon, they had bumped as far as they could go. The jeep stopped behind them and Lance and Sam got out.

Hal walked back and took a rope and some tools from the jeep. "Don't try the path until we get it roped up," he said. Honestly, you would think that she and Sam were tourists. Still, she waited in the car. First day of summer or not, it was chilly out there.

Working together, Lance and Hal hammered pitons into the rock beside the path. Then they tied a rope to the pitons as a handrail. They sometimes held on to the rope when they took the tent and spaceblanket up.

When the boys were near the vehicles at the end of their second descent, Lauren got out of the car. She pulled her sleeping bag and bag of essential/just-in-case supplies out of the back seat. "Let me take that," said Lance. Hal was getting his own things out of the jeep.

"I can carry my own stuff," Lauren said. Lance yielded the sleeping bag.

"I'll carry this," he said, raising the bag. "You'll need one hand free for the rope."

"You guys take the description, 'Sherpas,' too seriously." Still she put the sleeping bag over her left shoulder and trudged ahead. Hal was next, carrying only his sleeping bag. Either he hadn't brought anything, or it was all stuffed in the bottom of his bag. He let her go first. Lance was last.

Lauren gasped when she got to the top of the rise. The place was as grand as the boys had said. She looked around in the light from the setting sun. She saw a shallow bowl still filled with snow. The tent set up against the far wall, facing East. The only footprints were on the path leading to the tent.

Despite the sunlight, the air was chill around her. She shivered once and took her sleeping bag over to the tent. Hal tossed his sleeping bag in the tent on top of the spread-out space blanket. He took her bag of material from Lance and laid it down on the blanket as if he thought something could break.

"We generally designate the space west of the tent as the latrine," Hal said.

"Make sure he's inside the tent when you use it," Lance suggested. Hal gave him a dirty look. If Hal was that eager to see her with her pants down, he didn't need to sneak; but she wasn't going to tell Lance that.

She crawled into the tent to arrange things while Hal walked Lance back to the descending path. "Well," he said when he came back, "they're off."

"That's good," she said. Then she couldn't think of anything more to say. She had been alone with Hal many previous times, but never quite so alone as this. They were going to sleep in the same tent all night; there probably wouldn't be another human within ten miles. Maybe a park ranger, but nobody within one mile at most.

She walked out to admire the view. After a bit, she started around the edges of the bowl. Hal walked with her, but he didn't say a word.

"Watch out," he said after a while. "The air is cold, but it's less protection than it is down below. You'll burn before you know it."

Actually, she had known that. Still, she did need to be reminded; and it was nice of him to worry about her. "Thanks."

"Summers, we usually spend our time in the shade of the tent."

She crawled into the tent and lay on top of her sleeping bag. Hal came in after her, lay on top of his bag, and pulled the spaceblanket over her, leaving lots of room for the cool air to circulate. The only bit of himself he covered were his heavily- booted feet.

"Thanks."

"You are quite..." Hal said. Then he kissed her nose. "welcome."

She held his head to give him a kiss on the lips. He, for a wonder, kept his tongue inside his own mouth. "Do you think that they are getting along okay?" she asked. She couldn't get Sam and Lance out of her mind.

"I think they're okay. They're probably not getting very far along, though. I doubt that they've reached the motel yet.

"Look," he continued, "let's leave the lovebirds to run their own lives for now. We've done what they wanted, and there is nothing we can do to help from here. I don't really think that they would appreciate our picturing their night together."

"That wasn't what I meant!" Not that she had avoided picturing this night in the past, but she wasn't about to start when Hal was right here beside her.

"Your picturing them is no problem. They might not like it, but they'll never know. My picturing them is no problem, likewise. Our discussing them might well be a problem."

"You have a dirty mind. I was worrying about my friends." Not that her earlier thoughts hadn't been as dirty as he implied. Just that the thoughts which prompted her comment were utterly clean.

"Well, I'm not sure that worrying about them is going to help. We're here; they're there. We won't know about any problems unless someone comes storming up the trail asking what you think you're doing."

"Do you think we'll be found out?" That was something else to worry about.

"I don't see how. As Lance pointed out, my father hasn't come up here to make sure that we are all right for years. If he does, I'll tell him that Lance is asleep."

"Lance reassured you?" she asked.

"I said that I was nervous about the camping here. All Lance could think about was his getting caught."

"You were nervous about spending time with me?" Not, she'd bet, as nervous as she was about spending the time with him.

"More about what happens after. I'm going to enjoy tonight, but not if it means that it's our last date. Anyway, Lance is always the sensitive violinist of the family with his head in the clouds. I play the pragmatist with dirt on my hands. Lance, however, can be a self-centered pig without half trying."

"I wouldn't say that he has his head in the clouds." About his being self-centered, Hal didn't have anything to tell a member of the orchestra. "Anyway, you went out of your way to help him tonight."

"We get along fairly well. I certainly wish him the best. Everybody is so sure that Sam can follow him to Eastman."

"She should be able to. She's a really good student, and every bit as good a musician as he is. Already, as a junior, she was probably the best viola in the state of Colorado. A year from now, she'll be better than he is now."

"And you? Are you going to go off to Rochester and leave me?"

"Thanks. I've told you before. I'm the third best flautist in the orchestra, a high-school orchestra. I'll be lucky to play after next year. I get to turn a lot of pages as it is."

"Well, you'll have to get by on looks, then."

"Thanks." Her looks were as average as her flute playing, whatever Hal thought. But being with a guy who thought her very pretty -- or at least said so -- was a bonus.

"You are ..." He leaned over to kiss her. " ... welcome. Whatever the thanks were for."

She kissed him back. This time, his tongue pressed between her lips. His hand was cold on her breast, even through shirt and bra. He moved it to her waist, where -- if it was no warmer -- at least she had fewer nerve endings. When she broke the kiss, he kissed her eyebrows and forehead.

He leaned over her to kiss her ear and down the side of her face towards the neck. She shivered.

"Cold?" he asked. He tucked the spaceblanket around her more securely. Then he pulled his side over his arm.

"Not really." Really, it was the touch of his lips which made her shiver. He stroked her side. Then he held her butt through the jeans. The kiss went on and on, and she got hotter and hotter.

When he broke the kiss, she rolled over onto her back. This time, when he held her breast his hand was nice and warm. The feeling was so exciting otherwise, that she wouldn't have complained even if it had chilled her.

He unbuttoned the top button on her shirt and kissed her there. He slowly bared her, keeping the kisses coming all the time. When he reached her navel, he stuck his tongue in there. She pushed him away, laughing.

"You're silly," she said.

"You're luscious. Good tasting, good enough to eat."

She sat up, pulled off the shirt, and removed the bra. He kissed her mouth again, his tongue touched hers, and -- then -- the roof of her mouth. His hand came back to her breast. He held it for a minute, and then took her nipple between his thumb and one of his fingers. She shivered.

"Are you cold? Should you get in the sleeping bag?" She wasn't shivering from the cold, but the sleeping bag was a good idea. She opened it up, got inside, and then covered herself. She was careful to leave it unzipped; she didn't want his hand kept out.

He kissed her, starting with her mouth. Then he pushed his head inside the sleeping bag and kissed her down to her breasts. Finally, he tongued and licked her nipples. She shivered even more and held his head where it was needed.

When she let go, he continued downward. He kissed the undersides of her breasts for the longest time. Then he returned to her nipple.

He ran his fingernails over her jean-clad thigh. She widened her legs and he repeated the caress. Then he moved that hand to her other breast. He held it, but kept one finger free to tease her nipple. He lifted his head.

"Do you want help removing those jeans?" he asked. They were far from her tightest pair, but a little help would be appreciated. He was careful to tug her panties upwards when he removed the jeans. This time, her shivers were for the cold air. She burrowed to the bottom of the sleeping bag, not even leaving her head outside the tent.

Looking out, she saw that there were no shadows left. The sun had set, even though the sky was still light. Hal moved further into the tent so that he was even with her. He took her face in his two hands -- one was still cold -- and kissed her. He kissed down to her breast again.

His hand tickled the inside of her thighs. Then he cupped her mound. His fingers rested across the slight covering of her panties from those lips that they had so often brought so much pleasure. It was time, she thought, for them to bring that pleasure again.

Perhaps reading her thoughts, he brought both of his hands to the waistband of her panties. She raised her hips to allow him to pull them down. He kissed her mouth lightly before leaning across her to suck on her left nipple. His hand returned to her mound.

This time, there was no cloth interfering. He stroked the edges of the outer labia. Delightful at first, this soon became inadequate. She raised her knees and spread her legs to give him access. He combed his fingers through the hair on her mound before continuing down. He parted the outer lips with two fingers and passed another within.

Soon, he was tonguing her right nipple while tickling her clitoris. She felt herself climbing the slope. "Hal loves Lauren," he said. Then he returned to her breast. She tightened. When he started sucking, she tightened still more.

Then a fire burned through her. She felt herself rise around his finger. She tensed. For minutes, maybe years, she was all tension while the fire flared.

Then she collapsed. His mouth left her breast. His hand left her crotch.

"Oh, Lauren," he said in a whisper. "Beautiful Lauren." He put his arm around her and kissed her shoulder. He kept far away from all the parts which were -- now -- so sensitive. She moved her own arm to push up the sleeping bag; its touch hurt her nipples.

He moved away for a minute. He sat up and stripped off his own shirt and teeshirt. When he hugged her again, his skin was warm against her arm.

Slowly, she came back. She was in a tent, a tent in the middle of beautiful scenery. She was in Hal's arms. She loved him deeply. She turned her head, and he moved his kisses over to her face. She moved her mouth under his. He kissed her, lightly on the lips, then deeply. Their tongues met. She had to move back to breathe.

"Oh Lauren," he said. "I do love you." She loved him, too. But she needed the breath too much to say so. She smoothed her hand down his arm to his hand. They held hands while she recovered her breath and her strength.

This time, his kiss was brief. She could breathe evenly when his mouth left hers. He kissed all over her left breast before finally reaching the nipple. He licked it and sucked as much breast as possible into his mouth.

He caressed her thigh and then her labia. He kissed down the underside of her breast. She knew where he was going, and she knew he would never fit. Her own feet were pressed against the bottom of the bag.

"Second," she said. She pushed herself upwards in the bag and out. The tent entrance was slanted, like all the sides were. She looked right up to the sky. It was a deep blue, a royal blue, not black yet, but much deeper in color than it had been when the sun was up.

His head obscured the sky. He kissed her nose, then his tongue entered her mouth as his hand passed again between her thighs. She relaxed -- no need to move any more, just lie here and accept all these sensations.

He kissed her ear, then her neck. His finger stroked up her cleft almost to her clitoris. He kissed down to her left breast and up her breast to the nipple. He stroked her clitoris as he sucked hard on her nipple. "Oh," she said. As far as she was concerned, he could repeat those sensations forever. While his lips were on her left breast, his chest hair was tickling the right one.

His mouth went from one breast to the other. He kissed every inch of skin that he passed. He kissed up to the top of her right breast. Again, he touched the clitoris just as he sucked on the nipple.

He kissed a slow path lower, alternately nipping her with his lips and licking her skin. He passed from the bottoms of her breast to her ribs, and then to her belly. His tongue tickled her navel again, but she didn't say anything. He raised up, taking the top of the sleeping bag with him. The cool air reached her nipples which were wet and quite sensitive right then. She shivered.

He climbed into her bag and between her legs. He lowered himself to lie over her. She carefully pulled the edges of the bag and the spaceblanket over his shoulders as the heat of his body warmed hers. He started on her forehead and kissed all over her face. When he reached her mouth, his hands cupped her breasts. His thumbs caressed both nipples at once.

His line of kisses down to her breasts was much faster than he'd done before. When he got to her left nipple, his hand went to her mound. He jumped over to her other nipple, and then sucked there for only a minute. She held his head as he kept kissing lower. For once, he avoided her navel.

As he reached her pubic patch, he pressed gently on her legs. She spread them. His kisses jumped from her belly to right above her knee. He kissed a string up one leg and then jumped over to the other. By the time his lips met her lower ones, she couldn't keep from writhing.

"Lovely," he said with a loud sniff. Then he parted her lips with his thumbs. She strained to stretch her legs as far apart as possible. Then he struck.

His tongue licked the edge of her inner lips from one end to another. He parted them with tongue pressure alone and lapped around her hole. He adjusted his position, and she adjusted hers. He raised his hands until they were covering her breasts. All the time, he was licking her groove.

The one place his tongue didn't touch was her clitoris. He would teasingly lick upward until he was near, and then withdraw his tongue. He would lick on either side of it. He would not touch it. She grew more and more anxious.

Finally, he did touch it. He pinched both nipples at precisely the same time. The combination of pain and pleasure nearly drove her mad. She felt heat radiating from those three centers of sensation. Every time he licked across her clitoris again, the feeling of heat grew and she stiffened. The heat concentrated in the pit of her stomach. It became a ball of fire rotating there.

When he sucked her clitoris, the fire exploded in her. She gasped something. The sensations went on and on. She relaxed as they left her. Hal was covering her with his body, supporting himself on hands and knees.

When she recovered her breath, she kissed him. "I love you, Lauren," he said.

"I love you too. She hugged him with her arms which could feel his smooth skin. She hugged him with her legs which pressed against the rough cloth of his jeans. She even caressed his legs with her feet, which could only feel the tops of his boots.

When he moved back to his own sleeping bag, she continued the caresses. She stroked his chest, concentrating on his nipples. These were tiny, compared to hers; but they were as hard as hers ever were. She played with the mat of hair, running her fingers through it.

She leaned over to kiss him. His hands stroked her breasts. Hers stroked his stomach, poking him in the navel once. She leaned farther over, offering him her breasts. He enthusiastically sucked each.

When she tugged at his belt, he opened his pants. Then he pushed his trousers and shorts down almost to his knees. His motions left all but his boots uncovered by the sleeping bag and the spaceblanket. It was dark enough outside that almost no light came in to the tent. Still, she could see the erection sticking out of his groin. She combed her fingers through the hair just above it. Teasingly, she stroked first one of his thighs then the other.

When she touched his tensed muscles, they were hard. The skin, however, felt like part of them. The skin on his phallus, however, felt like it was a loose, soft, covering for that hardness. She always marveled at that.

She went further down to hold his testes. "Oh yes," he said. "Your touch is so soft." He spread his legs, giving her free access.

When she clasped his phallus fully, he said, "Kiss me, Lauren." Kiss him there? He kissed her, but did she want that in her mouth? Did she want him to spurt in her mouth?

He took her face in both hands and drew it to his. His tongue entered her mouth again. He pushed her away far enough to say, "Keep going," then he renewed the kiss.

She started moving her hand back and forth along his phallus. He tensed under her and pulled her mouth more tightly against his.

Very soon, she felt him gasp in her mouth. He throbbed in her hand and her index finger has hit by warm stickiness.

When his muscles suddenly relaxed, she stopped moving her hand and moved her head back from the kiss. He was gasping there beneath her, his chest heaving against the light touch of her breast. Finally, last of all, he softened in her hand.

His breath evened slowly. Finally, he bent at the waist and rummaged around in the bottom of his sleeping bag. He came up with a small roll of toilet paper and an empty plastic bag. He tore off some sheets of the TP to hand to her. "Sorry," he said. He dabbed at the stuff which had poured on him (and dripped down while he bent over to dig for the TP) while she wiped her hands.

He put both bits of the TP in the plastic bag. The rule he followed, the rule she followed, was "take nothing away, leave nothing behind."

"I need more than this," he said. He crawled out of the tent with his pants still around his ankles. A few feet from the tent entrance, he scooped up some clean snow. He rubbed it over his chest and belly. She shivered in sympathy. He pulled up his shorts, then his trousers.

After he did the belt, he walked towards the west. Soon she couldn't see him. Leave it to a boy to put on his pants before going to the bathroom. Suddenly, though, the sight reminded her. She put on her shirt, jeans, socks and shoes. She didn't bother with underwear.

When Hal got back, she visited the "latrine area" herself. She took his roll of TP with her. She knew that the night would have looked dark from her house. With the mostly-full moon high in the sky, and no lights but the stars to compete with it, she felt totally exposed squatting there. She watched the tent, but saw nothing which could be Hal's head. After all, he'd satisfied his libido quite recently.

When she'd wiped herself, she didn't know what to do with the wet paper. Throwing it away was against all the rules, but she couldn't bring it back to the plastic waste bag. She dropped it in the snow and tramped it in. She used her foot to cover the hole with snow.

"Cold?" Hal asked as she crawled into the tent. He threw back the cover of his sleeping bag. It was better than wearing her wet shoes in hers. She snuggled up against him, and he covered them both up: first the top of his sleeping bag, then his part of the space blanket.

He hugged her. Soon his hand was over her breast. His clasp was warm through the shirt, erotic, but more comforting than arousing. Occasionally he kissed the back of her head. Slowly, she warmed up.

"You know," Hal said out of the blue, "if you want to kiss me there, nothing would make me happier. I'm not about to ask you to do it. Least of all to demand that you do it."

She had forgotten all about that little misunderstanding. "It did seem unlike you." Let's make very clear, she thought, that it's not in his nature to demand things like that. I'm alone in a tent with a man much stronger than I am. The nearest possible help is miles away.

"I want your love. If I wanted merely your obedience, I could get it much more easily." They had wrestled, one way to have contact when it was a little early in the relationship for the sort of contact they'd had this evening. Hal had not only always won, he had always made it seem effortless.

Suddenly, she didn't like the direction of this conversation at all. "It's too early to sleep," she said. Besides that, she wasn't going to sleep in her shoes. She sat up to take off her shoes and socks.

"Want a snack?" What sort of snack had he brought with him? He rummaged again in the bottom of the sleeping bag. Was she supposed to eat something which had been in there with his boots?

He brought out a plastic bag containing two apples. He was holding a package of baby wipes, too. She'd had dinner, and didn't need more food. Still, the air was thin up here; and she had had some exercise. One apple couldn't hurt. She used one of the wipes and handed it back to him. Before putting it in the garbage sack, he wiped his hands with it, and then used it on his chest.

She ate the smaller apple, not that there was much difference. He ate the larger one. When they were done, they shared another wipe. She crawled into her sleeping bag, and they talked. Soon he was asleep. With nothing distracting her, she soon followed.

The chill woke her. First day of summer or not, it was cold up here. She tried to pull the spaceblanket over her, but her edge would only cover about a third of her sleeping bag. It wasn't enough.

"What's wrong?" Hal asked out of the dark. Had she awakened him.

"I'm cold."

"You're welcome in here." There were worse options; she liked snuggling with Hal. She crawled into his bag, and pulled up the zipper. He'd slept with it open and without a shirt.

He was warm, however -- warm and cuddly. They were a tight fit. One of his arms stuck out, and the other wrapped her close. She settled against him as his body heat gradually seeped into her.

The next time she woke, the sky was light again. The sun was shining into the tent. She blinked, but problem in her bladder was much worse thatn the poblem in her eyes. She tried not to wake Hal while she unzipped the bag. She struggled into socks and shoes, and headed out around the tent. She was in bright light this time, although the tent obscured the sun. She could actually see Hal's silhouette. Besides that, the wind had sprung up again. An occasional dusting of snow struck her bare bottom.

Whatever her situation, she had to relieve herself. She did, wiped, and dressed again. She still wasn't wearing a bra or panties.

Hal left the tent as soon as she got back. The wind came right in the entry. She crawled into Hal's sleeping bag with her panties and bra. Before she did anything else, she snuggled into the remaining warmth. It didn't warm her as much without Hal's heat.

He got back before she could take the time to get properly dressed. She didn't even think of refusing him the sleeping bag; it was his bag, after all, and he still wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Chilly," she complained as he snuggled against her. This time, she was on the inside fold of the bag. Hal reached out and pulled her bag, and then the spaceblanket, over them.

"Wait a bit. It'll heat right up."

As it did, Hal started petting her. "Is there only one thing you can think of?" she asked. She needed to be properly dressed when Sam got there. To say nothing of Lance. Having Sam see her put on her bra after spending time with Hal would be embarrassing. Having Lance see her undressed would be awful.

"They can't get in the park before eight, under any circumstances. And they, unlike us, won't have the sun shining in their eyes." He was right, but he still only thought of one thing. On the other hand, he did that thing rather well. She relaxed and let him stroke her.

As his hand warmed, he pushed her shirt up. He stroked her stomach as well as her breasts. "You're bunching the shirt all up," she complained.

"Well, it's not going to look neat after a night camping out."

"Yes, but it's uncomfortable under my arms."

"Poor girl! I bet I could figure out a solution." He started unbuttoning it. She finished the job, but kept the shirt there in the sleeping bag. She wouldn't enjoy putting it on after it spent an hour in the cold.

Hal kissed her back while he petted her front. Rubbing her hips across his groin, she felt his hardness against her. He held both breasts and kissed the back of her neck.

When the excitement got too much, she turned around. Obediently, Hal kissed her once on the shoulder and then ducked down. He found her nipple, and kissed it.

"Oh, Lauren," he said. He pushed her over on her back, keeping his lips on her neck. He unzipped her jeans and pushed them down. There were no panties to obstruct his hands.

He stroked her labia while kissing her breasts. The light touches were just what she needed. Then, they were insufficient. He reached her center and stroked her moisture up her groove toward her clitoris. Long after she would have attacked this directly, he stroked around it, near it, but not over it.

Finally, when the frustration was almost as great as the arousal, he kissed her deeply on the mouth. At the same time, he brought his finger directly across the top of her clitoris. She spread her legs as much as she could with her jeans around her knees. She pushed them down further and raised and spread her knees.

With his finger always moving in her groove, Hal licked her tongue and then her lips. When she was panting, he abandoned her mouth to return to her breasts. Instead of some delicate trail, he moved directly to her nipple. When he sucked it, he stroked her clitoris.

Flames shot through her. She wasn't cold any more. She felt burning hot. From the top of her head to the soles of her feet, she felt the effects of that finger which really wasn't moving even an inch. The flame burst again and again. She arched into his hand, but the sensation went on forever.

When it finally stopped, she collapsed. She lay quietly in his arms. Some time later, he woke her up.

"Lauren," he said, "it is nearly eight. I don't know when Lance will get here, but we ought to be dressed and ready for them. Do you think you could get up now?"

She could. She did. Somehow, asking Hal to turn his back while she put on her panties and bra seemed unnecessary.



The End
The Longest Light
Uther Pendragon
[email protected]
2002/06/21


For another story involving some of the same 
characters:
 "The Shortest Night"  

Another couple in a slightly later stage in 
their relationship appear in:
 "Prelude"  

This story is coded (Mf rom pett oral).

The code, pett, means: Heavy petting 

For more on the story codes and how to use them to find the 
sorts of stories to interest you:
"Story codes for readers" 


This story is indexed at:
 Young Love  

The directory to all my stories can be found at:
 Index to Uther Pendragon's Website  

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