His tongue flicked over his lips, and they were wet when he pressed his mouth to mine. A fug of beer and garlic hovered around us, but I didn’t notice it between the buzz of the alcohol and pot and his mouth moving over mine.
I slid my tongue between his lips, touching his teeth. He moaned, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me onto his lap. He grew hard beneath the towel. My hands were running up and down his skin, velvet soft with patches of downy hair. Tugging at my shirt, he pulled it up to touch my waist. His palms were calloused and rough.
My nipples tightened in my bra. I pressed my body to him and squirmed, his skin hot on mine. Gripping my breast through my shirt, he teased my nipple through the thick padding of my bra. I laughed, and reached down to take off my t-shirt.
“Oh no,” Tod said stopping me. “That’s no fun. I get to undress you.”
I waited for him to take my clothes off, but he went back to kissing me. “Jerk,” I grumbled between my teeth. His chest vibrated as he chuckled.
Two can play this game. I may have been rusty, but I excelled at sucking face. I ran my hand through his hair, massaging his scalp with my nails. His lips parted, and I thrust my tongue into his mouth, wreathing it around his, pleading fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. His arms tightened, pulling me against him. There he was, hot, hard and alive under my hip. One hand I kept tangled in his hair, with the other I stroked his spine, and his body rocked beneath me.
He pushed me off of him, his face flushed red, his chest heaving. “Jesus Christ Carla.”
“Yeah, there are other things I can do with my mouth,” I said, my gaze dropping to the tent he was pitching. It was huge. “You’re not too shabby yourself, Tod.”