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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.

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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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