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Ghost Stories – Part 46

I was completely awake now, but glad to be so. I wanted to curl into my sleeping bag and eventually fall back asleep, but I realized he might lose too much heat if he laid naked on his bunk.  I could see very little in the star light, but could at times make out his form, and I definitely grazed the smooth curves above his legs as I pulled his sleeping bag over him.  I zipped it slowly, only getting about halfway up before the position of his body interfered with fully enclosing him, and I again slid my hand along his muscular glutes.  I recalled the blanket I saw on top of his bunk the first night and fumbled around in the dark until I found it, and stretched it over the top of him.  As I leaned back, my hand touched his jeans, and I lifted and folded them, setting them near his head.  I likewise looked for his shirt, but as he stirred momentarily, I decided to abandon my efforts, make no noise if possible, and let his body resume its rejuvenation.

I pulled my sleeping bag up around my neck and raised the zipper, listening to its clatter and reminding myself of its similar retreat at his hand. Certainly I wanted this to happen, but I just didn’t want the pressure of wondering how he felt about me and contemplating if he even felt an attraction for me.  Now I knew, and without a word, he took action, eliminating the dialogue of ‘did he or didn’t he.’  Yes, I definitely liked his style.  Now if only I could get the earth to stop spinning on its axis for just a bit so that I might continue to enjoy the sound of his breathing in the darkness long after the sun was scheduled to rise.

I reached out again and touched his loose curls at the base of his neck. I loved how he grabbed my hair, and since I was unable to likewise enjoy his while he clutched mine, I took a few moments to enjoy its softness as he slept.  Once I pulled my arm back inside the warmth of my sleeping bag, I attempted to inhale and exhale with the sound of his breathing and when I started to nod off again, I realized I didn’t want time to slow down.  I wanted morning to arrive swiftly so that we could smile at one another, share our revealed passion for one another, and perhaps enjoy each others’ bodies again.


About Pam Portland

For a decade and a half I worked behind a series of desks, peeking out from around my computer monitor. Seeing the United States in bits and pieces wasn't enough to satisfy me, so I am grabbing my virtual pen and taking flight. Welcome along!

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