A writing prompt given by a friend. As always, critiques, comments, and cum testimonies welcome.

A Busted Compressor

The sudden silence was louder to Kelsey’s ears than a bomb. She picked up on it instantly, despite the noise of the crowd. Pausing mid-conversation, and leaving her patron with his words hanging in his mouth, she ducked through the door behind the bar and made her way to the keg cooler. Sure enough, the compressor had shut off, and the air in the room was, even after only a brief moment, starting to lose its chill. Kelsey fought the urge to grind her teeth as she winced. This was the last thing she needed tonight. Snatching her phone from her back pocket, she dialed her cooler service man, who barely picked up before the voicemail.

“Go.”

“Tate, it’s Kelsey over at-“

“I know, Kel. It’s after hours; what’s wrong?”

“The compressor just blew. How quick can you get here?”

“I can’t. I’m at a movie with my wife. I’ll text my guy apprentice, Ron.”

“Please do. Do SOMETHING, at least. I can’t serve warm beer. Not on a Friday night.”

“I know, Kel, I know. I’m texting him now . . . there. He should get in touch with you in a few.”

Kelsey sighed. “Alright. Alright, thank you, Tate.”

“No problem.” Tate ended the call. Kelsey rubbed her face with her hands and tucked her phone away. Back at the bar, Keegan was pouring a round of tequila shots for the group of frat brothers who had wandered in half an hour ago. Beyond him, past the patrons at the bar and at their tables, Kelsey spotted two men coming through the door who were obviously with the evening’s band. The clothes and hair gave them away. She made eye contact with the first and gestured a wide, curving motion while mouthing “AROUND BACK”. The man nodded, and the two turned and headed back out the door.

“Keegan!”

“Yes ma’am!” he sang in his most charming tones as the frat boys raised their shots to salute the joys of youth.

“The band just arrived. Where’s Jeff?”

“Jeff? Haven’t seen him. Did he come in?”

She checked her phone. There, hidden among the slurry of incoming texts and emails, was a message from Jeff that his daughter was running a fever of 101.3 and he wouldn’t be in.
“Jesus fuck.” She swore. “Watch the bar, Keegan. I’ll go let ‘em in.”

She powered through the patrons, slaloming deftly between them, past the kitchen, and unlocked the loading doors to the back alley. A disgusting white van was beeping its rear to the building. The man with whom she’d made eye contact emerged from the side door and approached her, wiping sweaty brown curls from his forehead.

“Nuclear Sludge Holocaust” in his cheeriest voice as he extended his hand. “Jesus! What the hell kind of name is that? Sounds like Jeff will book just anything.” She shook his sweaty hand out of obligation before pointing to the door. “Load in. The stage is to the left, up the ramp. Green room is beyond that. I hope your music is better than your name.” Hazel eyes twinkling, the man only grinned. “Our turnouts are good, don’t worry.” With a smirk, Kelsey turned away and lit a cigarette. She pulled up her texts and shot a message to Myron, her sound engineer, to let him know that the band was loading in.

After a few more drags, she snuffed the remainder of the cig on the brick wall, tucked it in her pocket, and headed back in. The crash of a glass bottle in the bin shifted her gears back to the matter of the keg cooler. It had been ten minutes, but still no call from Tate’s apprentice, Ron. She shot a follow up text and went back to the bar to help Keegan, who was pouring glasses of wine for a pair of cougars and flirting for tips. She poured a few beers before the phone chimed. Checking her texts, she was a message from Ron that he wouldn’t be able to get to her until the following morning. She groaned loudly.

“Everything alright there?”

She looked up to see the guy from the band leaning on the bar. “It’s fine. You needing a drink?”

“Looks more like you need one.”

“Yeah, I could use one. Whaddya want?”

“Just a water for now. We’ve been in a hot van with no AC for six hours. But, for real, though, what’s got you so stressed?”

Bewildered, Kelsey glared at the man, whose salt and pepper beard still dripped with sweat. “My keg cooler just blew a compressor.” The man whistled. “Damn. Your beer’s gonna be all head in no time.” She was surprised that he knew that a rise in temperature would affect CO2 retention. “Yeah. And my service guy can’t get to me till tomorrow. So yeah, I’m stressed.”

“Mind if I look at it?”
Kelsey’s eyes grew wide. “You know how to repair a compressor?”

“I’ve tinkered a bit. I don’t have any refrigerant, but if it’s something simple. Let me finish loading in. I’ll look at it before sound check.”

True to his word, after loading in, the man, in a dirty black v-neck and stained camo cargo shorts, lugged a bag of tools up to the bar. Kelsey lead him outside to the compressor, where he set to work observing and pawing over it. She left him to his work as she went in to ensure that the cooks were keeping up with orders. It wasn’t even fifteen minutes when the man, again drenched in sweat, came back in.

“No luck?” she guessed. He set his bag of tools on the bar and grabbed a handful of napkins to mop sweat from his brow. “Another water?” She scooped some ice into a glass as he plopped onto the stool. “So, it should be working, for now. Your coils were coated in dust. I used some compressed air to blow them out and hit the reset. It kicked on. Hopefully it’ll get you through the night until your guy can come.” He accepted the glass of water and chugged it.

“I’m impressed.” Kelsey admitted. “Most metal heads who play here are only interested in seeing how much free beer they can get, or trying to get into my pants.” The man chuckled. “Maybe later?” He set the glass down and headed towards the stage, where his band mates were setting up the last of the gear.

Kelsey checked the cooler. Sure enough, the temperature was going back down. The sweaty band bro had done the trick. When she got back out to the dining floor, he was on stage. Myron was lost in a sea of cables and guitar cabs as he finished aiming the last SM57 just offset of the cab’s dust cap. Kelsey called up to the band bro, who immersed in adjusting the spring screws of his guitar’s Floyd Rose trem, hex wrench clenched between his teeth as he alternated quarter turns of the screwdriver and plucking the strings to check the tuning.

“Hey, it worked.” She called out. “The cooler is cold again. Thank you. First round’s on the house.” The band bro glanced up at her, still clenching the hex wrench, and nodded. “Huhngk-yuhw”.

The night grew busier as the sound check progressed. More metal heads came, followed by long-bearded hipsters, who made a mad rush on her stock of canned PBR. Bikers began rolling in, and her whisky sales skyrocketed. By sundown, her little bar was packed. At nine, the band took the stage, with the band bro fronting. The room was suddenly drowned out by a deafening thump of guitars, bass and drums, ringing out and feeding back.

“We are Nuclear Sludge Holocaust, motherfuckers! Let’s hear some fucking noise!” The crowd erupted. Kelsey rolled her eyes and she reached for her earplugs. The following cacophony rattled the ceiling. The liquor sales stayed high, though, so she called the whole thing a success. After the first three songs, the front man paused and pointed towards the bar. “Hey, a big shout out to our bartenders tonight! Everyone be sure and support this place by buying some drinks. Don’t forget to tip. And especially tip that smoking hot brunette.” He pointed directly at her. “That one there, with the angelic face.”

She was used to getting hit on by both patrons and bands, but this was the first time someone had done it from on stage. “Look, she’s blushing! Everyone go buy a beer and tip that one. Tell her Rick sent ya!” She waved as heads turned to identify her. From the stage, he gave her a wink and a pinch harmonic dive-bomb that sounded suspiciously like a cat-calling whistle. Patrons flooded to the bar.

-----------

As the metal heads slowly filed out, Kelsey ran some rough calculations. The night’s profits were gonna be great, even after paying the band. Speaking of which, she looked up to see the sweat-soaked musicians rolling their 4x12 cabs down the ramp towards the back door. The drummer sat in a pile of chrome supports with a pair of pliers, wrangling a stripped lug. Myron was dutifully collecting the mics from the stage, sorting them, and carting them back to be locked away. The music hadn’t really been to her taste, but she had to admit that the band knew how to put on a show. Their audience was bigger than anything she’d seen in months, especially since the lockdowns.

Rick, the front man, sauntered up to the bar where she stood, still in her calculations, and slid onto a stool. “So, you said first round’s free, right?” She smiled. “Yeah, I’d say you’ve earned it. What’ll you have?”

“I’ll take a Fiddich 12, neat. Make it a double? And a water.” Kelsey poured the scotch and a glass of water for Rick. He cautiously added a few drops of water to the whisky, nosed it, then sipped and swirled. “That’s an expensive round.” She said. “But you definitely came through for me tonight. Where’d you learn how to fix a cooler?”

Rick swallowed his sip, paused, then exhaled. “Oh, that’s good. I’ve been touring for years in that shit box van. The AC goes out all the time. I’ve had to learn to fix it on the go or the summers just get brutal, especially in the south. I’m Rick, by the way.”

“Kelsey.”

“So, you said you get hit on a lot. I can see why.”

“Not much for subtlety, are you?”

“No ma’am. I’m on tour eight months out of the year, or more. It’s one town on to the next. If I’m gonna shoot my shot, I don’t have time for games.”

“And just how often does your shot hit the mark?”

Rick snorted. “Let’s just say I’m better at guitar than I am at being a rifleman.” He swirled another sip and closed his eyes as the flavors emerged. “I get pears. Do you get pears in this?” Kelsey shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t usually drink it for the flavor.” Rick took a swig of water. “That’s a shame. There’s some very subtle whisky out there if you know what you’re looking for.”

“I thought you didn’t have time for subtlety?”

“No ma’am, that’s not what I said. I said I don’t have time for games. Subtlety is a different matter.” He downed the rest of his whisky in a gulp. “I’m gonna finish loading out. But we’re staying just down the street if you wanna hang out after closing.”

“And just why would I do that?”

Rick’s gaze shifted away as a grin crossed his lips. “Because you need to decompress.” He looked back into her eyes; his expression was changing. “I saw you; you’ve been totally stressed out all night. You need some relief. So, whaddya say? Come hang out after closing.” Kelsey began to roll her eyes when she realized he was right. It had been a stressful night, and she could use some catharsis. Plus, the guy, for having grey in his beard and at his temples, wasn’t bad looking at all. She guessed he was in his early 40’s? “We’ll see.” She sighed. Rick gulped down the rest of his water. “I’ll see you later, then.” As he stood to help finish loading out.

------

The sun would be peeking over the distant hills in just a few short hours, but Kelsey stood on the walkway of the cheap motel’s second floor and admired the stars as she finished her cigarette. The summer night air was still warm and damp; the frigid desert breeze hadn’t blown in yet. It was the perfect time of night, or perhaps it should be considered early morning, to relax outside with a cooler of beer and maybe an acoustic guitar, if you knew anything other than Wonderwall. With a final drag, she snuffed the butt on the wrought iron rail and tossed it down to the ground. “Here goes nothing.” She knocked on the door.

Rick emerged, still wrapped in a towel. “Hey . . . ah . . Kelsey?”

“Yup. And you’re Rick, right?”

Rick smiled. “Yeah! Hey, come on in, I’m just gonna run and throw some clothes on real quick.” He vanished into the motel room, leaving space for the frigid air inside to waft through the doorway. Kelsey stepped into the soft lamp light as Rick reached the bathroom door. Instead of going inside to dress, he simply dropped his towel and snatched up a pair of red and black gym shorts, pulling them up over his hairy legs and firm ass cheeks before tying the drawstring. He reached over and plucked a black wife-beater from his luggage. Kelsey was still surprised that he’d dropped his towel in front of her so blatantly. He used his fingers to sweep his wet, wavy hand-length locks to one side, showing off the fresh side-shave on the other. “I was just about to join the guys at the fire pit in the vacant lot across the road. You wanna go?”

“Sure.” She agreed, unsure of what his plans were if she declined. They crossed the road into lot of dry, cracked dirt where the other members of Nuclear Sludge Holocaust sat around a circle of loose stones fashioned into a fire pit; their disgustingly dirty tour van parked a stone’s throw away. They sat on what appeared to be a mottled collection of chairs lifted from various venues along their career. Rick offered Kelsey a chair before plucking a rock from the circle to sit on. Just beyond the circle of band members, she spotted Myron splayed out on his back, blacked out.

“Guys, this is Kelsey. She’s the owner.” Each member nodded a greeting. “Kelsey, this is Chuck, Rob and Dennis.” Kelsey nodded to each member in turn as she sat. Dennis pushed a camping cooler towards Rick with his foot, but in his hand was an open bottle of Jim Beam. Rob took a casual swig from an unmarked mason jar. “Your sound tech is a lightweight.” Rob teased, motioning towards Myron. “He doesn’t usually party after work.” She defended. “I’m guessing he’s a fan?”

Chuck glanced over his shoulder. “Assuming he’s still breathing back there, yeah. He’s an old-timer. We partied with him what . . . fifteen years ago in Anaheim?” Rick nodded. “Yeah. I think it was Anaheim. Or maybe Orange County. I forget.” Chuck threw an empty beer can at him. "Anaheim is IN Orange county, jackass!"

“So you guys have been at this a while, then?” Kelsey offered, noticing for the first time Chuck’s grey roots. Rob’s beard bore skunk stripes on either side of the chin. She glanced over at Rick to see the patches of white towards the jaw line. “Yeah”, Rick offered. “We got started . . . it was ’97 or ’98, I think. Twenty five-ish years ago?” Rob raised his hand “Only twenty for me.” Chuck leaned forward. “Hey, you remember that time in Anchorage when…”

The night dissolved into countless stories, mostly quite entertaining, from years on the road. Kelsey nursed a couple of beers until the eastern sky began to threaten dawn. One by one, each member succumbed to exhaustion and made their way back to the hotel room, until it was just Kelsey, Rick, and the still unconscious Myron.

“You wanna go for a walk?” Rick offered.
“Not really. I’ll have to go soon. It’s been fun, though.”
Rick’s lips pursed. “Yeah. I’m having a good time hanging out with you. Kinda not ready for it to end yet.”

Kelsey smiled genuinely. “I’m having a good time, too. But also, there’s nowhere to walk, really. You go that way, it’s the bad side of town. You go that way, it’s a couple blocks until you hit desert. Not really safe out that way either.” Rick nodded, disappointment visible on his face until Kelsey spoke again. “But we can just sit here for a bit and enjoy the last of the stars, if you want.” Rick’s boyish smile returned. Without a word, he stood and jaunted over to the tour van, where he dragged out a tattered army blanket. He spread it out on the dirt, just on the other side of the van. Kelsey joined him, but began to shiver when she left the fireside. Rick grabbed an equally tattered packing blanket from the van and offered it to her. It smelled like it hadn’t been washed in years, but it was better than the cold.

They sat on the blanket with their backs against the van, watching the remaining stars in the west as the eastern sky encroached upon them. Rick draped the packing blanket over both of them as Kelsey snuggled in close beside him.

After a handful of heartbeats, he turned to look at her. Kelsey turned to meet his gaze, and without asking, he kissed her. His lips were warm against the cold desert breeze. One lingering kiss gave way to another as she wedged herself closer to him. She felt his hand on her cheek as her lips parted, inviting his tongue for a dance. She reached up and touched his grizzled forearm, muscle earned from years on the road bristling under the course black hair. His beard smelled like shampoo and campfire.
A muffled groan broke the smacking of their kisses. Myron had awakened from his stupor. Kelsey and Rick both held their breath as Myron groggily sat up, assessed his surroundings.

“Holy shit.” He mused. “That was fuckin’ awesome.” He shambled to his feet, and they listened to the crunch of his footsteps in the crusty dirt as he wandered away towards the hotel. Rick looked back to Kelsey. “Wanna move over closer to the fire?” She nodded with a shiver. “Yeah, totally.” Kelsey stood and wrapped herself in the packing blanket as Rick gathered up the army blanket and spread it out close enough to the dwindling fire to benefit from its heat. The smooth desert wind blew the smoke towards the motel, where Myron’s white Dodge Ram could be seen pulling away in the faint morning glow. Rick threw a few more sticks into the fire and stoked it as Kelsey sat on the army blanket.
Rick rejoined her with another kiss, this time his hand finding its way to her hips. As she reached to run her fingers through his beard, his hand slid down to her thigh, then around and up her back, under her shirt. Kelsey reached her other hand to touch run her fingers through his hair, assuming that she could hold herself upright without the use of her arms, but she was mistaken and slumped backwards onto her back. Without missing a beat, Rick laid himself down beside her, picking up the deep kisses where they’d left off while running his hand under the hem of her shirt, touching her soft belly. The feel of his light touch tickled, and Kelsey’s belly sucked inwards as her lips involuntarily grinned. Rick giggled with a grin as his fingers traced separate paths up her belly and to her breast, giving it a squeeze through the material of her bra.
This was the moment that Kelsey had to decide if this was going to go any farther, or if she should stop him. Her mind instinctively played out the pros and cons, weighing the potential dangers versus the catharsis of giving in and indulging her lust. The pulsing in her loins told her that she’d already made the decision. She again took Rick by the head, her fingers intertwining with his now dried ringlets, and pulled his face deeper into hers. His hand worked underneath the wire of her bra to hold her naked breast, his thumb tenderly circling her nipple, hard from both arousal and the cold. She felt his erection press into her hip through his gym shorts. She reached down to feel his length and girth, first outside the material, and then inside to touch his warm skin. Despite being several years older than herself, the seasoned rocker was still able to get rock hard. She felt him quiver at the sensation of her frigid fingers on his cock.

As his hand squeezed and groped at her breast, she wrapped her fingers around his hard member and started slowly stroking, her gentle grip expressing the pre-cum from his cock and spreading it up and down his shaft. Rick moaned quietly. “Oh, Kelsey . . .”

Hearing him moan her name sent a wave of emotion and lust through her chest and belly. She stroked faster, causing his rhythmic massaging of her breast to slow, then stop. His breathing faltered and quivered. Without being asked, she sat up, wrapped the packing blanket around her shoulders, scooted down and untied the drawstring of his shorts. Pulling the waistband down, she exposed his erection, which pointed to the few stars remaining in the north. She settled down into a comfortable position and took his girth into her mouth. “Oh . . . Kelsey . . .” he moaned again. The salt of his pre-cum gave way to the taste of his skin as she moved her lips over the ridge of his head, her tongue pressing and licking the underside. This time, as he reached down, it was his turn to run his fingers through her hair, his breathing growing deeper and faster.

“Oh, Kelsey, Kelsey, Kelsey . . . don’t stop.” He continued. She took her lips from his cock momentarily to give her jaw a break as she took his cock in a tight grip and stroked eagerly. His legs twitched at the change in sensation. After a brief moment, she took him in her mouth again. Rick’s head rolled from side to side in ecstasy as his testicles began to draw up. Kelsey reached down and held them in her hand, rolling them gently. Without warning, Rick’s belly began to quiver, and his cum exploded into her mouth, nearly filling it. Taken by surprise, she swallowed without thinking as the orgasm caused him to sit up without the aid of his arms. More warm cum followed. “Oh my God, Kelsey! Oh my God! Oh my God!” She felt the throbbing of his cock inside her mouth slow, and then subside. He collapsed back onto the army blanket with a moan and a sigh.

“Oops.” He said, apologetically. “Oops” she mirrored. “Do you think you’ll be able to get it back up?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Just give it a minute. I’m old, but not that old.”

Kelsey watched his cock slowly go limp. She toyed with it casually and he lay gasping.

“Just how old are you, anyway?” she asked.

“I just turned forty last year.”

Kelsey halted, doing the math in her head. “Wait. You mean to tell me you’ve been playing in the same band since you were fifteen?” Rick laughed. “Sixteen, but yeah. I had just gotten my first car. A shitty, beat up ’90 Sentra. What a shit box.”

“Sixteen? I guess that explains the band name.”

“Hey, what the fuck are you trying to say?” he laughed.

“Nuclear Waste Genocide? Really?”

Rick raised a finger to the heavens in protest. “That’s Nuclear Sludge Holocaust. You’re thinking of Toxic Genocide. Or maybe Municipal Waste. We toured with both of those bands several times back from ’04 to ’09-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Kelsey demanded.

“Hey, we were a late 90’s thrash band. What do you want? Shakespear?”

“What I want”, Kelsey countered “is my pussy eaten.” Rick wasted no time. He sat up, with the help of his arms this time, rolled her over, and set at once unbuckling the silver-adorned belt and unbuttoning her denim jeans. Demonstrating decades of experience, he gripped her jeans and panties both by the waistband, lifting her hips just enough to pull them down to the knees, then tugged each pant leg will her feet were free. The cold desert air stung her bare legs and exposed belly as Rick maneuvered himself between her thighs. Noticing her wincing in the cold, he draped the packing blanket over her upper torso, then turned his attention to her pussy.

Her clit was pierced with a silver bar. “Very nice.” He mewed as his fingers casually played with her clit and labia. He reached his face down and flicked the bar with his tongue. Kelsey draped her knees over his shoulders. His body heat gave some relief to her cold skin. The warmth of the fire wasn’t enough, but maybe combined . . .

His tongue penetrated her shallowly before trailing up and down in slow, deliberate licks. Kelsey felt a shiver of pleasure run up her spine as Rick swirled his tongue around her clit in several tight circles. The taste of his cum in her mouth mixed with the taste of campfire smoke as she gasped in the night air. Another long stroke of his tongue was followed by taking her mound into his mouth and sucking, his tongue working her clit back and forth, taking care to also lick the deep tracks to either side of it. The sensation sent a wave of emotion from her chest to her bowels, causing her abdomen to quiver. She reached down and took a handful of his hair, pushing his face deeper into her while biting her lip. Rick moaned again before pausing briefly. “God, I love your pussy. It’s so perfect. Oh my God.” He plunged his tongue inside of her again and dragged it heavily towards her clit. Kelsey moaned loudly.

“I just love eating pussy, anyway.” Rick added. “I want you to cum for me.” Kelsey had to make a concerted effort to catch enough breath to speak. “I . . . I can’t cum from . . . from . . . oh . . . “ Rick nodded. “That’s fine, then. But I’m not done enjoying the taste of your wet pussy yet.” He buried his face aggressively, sending another wave of emotion through Kelsey as his hands took her by the hips and pulled her tighter into his face. His moans told her that he was telling the truth. But even after several minutes of this, she still wasn’t going to get there.
“Rick . . . Rick . . . “ she called. “Mm-hmm?” without taking his mouth from her. “F-fuck me.” He licked for a few seconds more before pulling away and standing to his knees. He presented her with the triumphant return of his erection. His figure stood sillhoueted against the light of the threatening dawn. He gloried for a moment before scooting close enough to rub the head of his cock up and down between her labia. The warmth of her wetness enticed him, and her eyes begged him to enter her, so with one careful thrust he penetrated her, slowly pushing deeper and deeper. She felt him pushing her walls aside until he reached the very end, his full length inside of her and filling her perfectly.

At first, he worked his way in and out cautiously, giving her time to stretch and accommodate his girth, but as she wrapped her legs around his hips, he pitched forward, catching himself on his hands, and began thrusting faster. They moaned together as a shift in the breeze blew the heat of the fire in their direction, not that either of them felt particularly cold anymore. Kelsey pulled up her shirt and bra to expose her breasts to Rick, who took one in his hand as he strained to reach the other with his mouth. It was a difficult angle, but he managed to suck for a moment before returning to her face to kiss her as her wetness trailed down his testicles.

His tongue explored her mouth and played with hers as his thrusting rhythm sped up. Kelsey reached around his back, running her hands under his tank top and enjoying the feel of his skin on her palms as the tell-tale pangs of pleasure began to pulse within her. “Keep going . . . keep going . . . just like that” she whispered in his ear. As the waves of tantric pleasure intensified, she dug her fingernails into his back and pulled, dragging furrows in his skin. He winced at the pain but did not stop. “Oh . . oh . . Rick . . . “ but as his thrusting probed harder and harder against the back of her vagina, she had to bite into his shoulder to keep her moans from transitioning into a scream. The orgasm caused her core muscles to spasm and shake and her legs lost their grip on Rick’s hips, but his rhythm, unshakable, did not falter.

He kept going, even as her orgasm began to subside. Even as it began to turn around and make a second pass, his powerful legs and hips did not lose their potency, but rather his speed increased. Another round of waves hammered her nervous system, her walls tightening involuntarily around his hammering cock. The sweat on his forehead dripped onto her face. As her orgasm approached it’s peak, Rick began to falter. He collapsed onto his elbows as his rhythm slowed to a more deliberate pace.

“I . . I . . “ he stammered against the encroaching orgasm, but she didn’t give him the chance to ask his question. With a surge of effort, she wrapped her legs around him again and pulled him deeper into her. With a loud moan that echoed from the nearby buildings, he gave in and released himself inside of her. She could feel his warm, sticky cum filling her as his neck gave way, plunging his red face into the side of her neck. The sensation filled her once again with a wave of emotion, causing her orgasm to intensify for ever so brief a moment. The cadence of his pulsing cum slowed and ceased. The tsunami of pleasure slowly gave way to the dopamine afterglow. The flurry of motion came to a half, leaving only the crackling of the nearby fire and the sound of their breathing hanging in the air.

Rick picked his head up to look into her eyes, his cock still hard inside of her, chest heaving, hot breath steaming in the cold desert air. Kelsey’s eyes locked into his, unflinching. With a slow, passionate kiss, he enjoyed one last deep thrust, pressing as far into her as their bodies would allow before withdrawing. Immediately, his cum poured out of her, running down into her ass and spilling into a gooey white pool on the army blanket. Kelsey sat up and looked down to observe, touching the wet, sticky mess he’d made of her pussy and took pleasure in seeing the white strings of semen that webbed between her fingers.

Rick, slipped his shorts back on as Kelsey reveled, then sat down next to her. Grabbing the packing blanket, he draped it across both their shoulders and slid his arm around her back. Kelsey laid her head on Rick’s shoulder, feeling the wetness of the blanket and more of his cum seeping out of her. Another brief shift of the breeze blew warmth from the fire across them. The dopamine high made the empty expanse before them seem like art.

“That was fun.” She sighed, nestling closer under his arm.

“Yes. Yes it was.” He kissed her on the head. “We’ll be coming back this way in a few months.”

Kelsey snorted. “Is that your way of asking to be booked again?”

Rick only shook his head as the first golden rays broke over the distant mountains.