The trail

Late light in the pines and my braid sticking to my neck. Olive field shirt, boots, the radio off because my shift was over. Bill was at the overlook with water, fifty-three, dusty, not wearing anything that made him look like my boss because he is not. I am twenty-eight. I told him the trail was done and I wanted him to fuck me, and that we would not do it where a hiker could round the switchback.

We walked ten minutes to the cabin porch. I sat on the step and unlaced the boots. He said I looked like the best part of the day. I told him to say that again while he kissed me. He did. Olive shirt open over a tank, his hands respectful until I put them on my breasts. I was sweaty and I liked that he did not flinch. I said shower first, both of us, soap, and then I want your mouth on my cunt.

The shower was small and hot. We actually washed. His hands in my hair, mine on his shoulders, dust running off us down the drain. I kissed him under the water and stroked his cock until he was hard and laughing. I said not yet, do not fuck me in this stall. We dried on the porch towels. Then I sat on the bench and pulled him to his knees. He licked my cunt, warm from the shower, until I came with my hand on the rail, telling him he was good, so good, his tongue on my clit. I stroked his cock after and let him cum on my stomach, kissing him through it. The boots stayed by the step. I said I would make eggs if he started the stove.