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Your hair covered that side of my face, and again I inhaled as much of its fragrance in order to hold it in my memory. My arms pulled your body tightly against mine, and I grew hard against the firmness of hey cheeks. ‘He watches,’ you whispered. The storm picked up, and it began to rain. It was a wind driven rain, with little moisture but great for as it careened into us. Now your gown began to cling to your skin, and its translucence shifted transparent. Your chest heaved beneath your gown, and I raised one arm to caress your breast. You turned with the twist of the caress to face me, looked deep into my eyes and reached my lips with your kiss. It was a kiss full of tender promise. It was a kiss of passion whose power gave nothing away to the crashing surf. Our bodies locked together, a tangle of arms, legs and lips. You moaned ever so gently, then stepped back to slip your shoulders and arms from your gown. It slipped to the sand, its soggy mass no resemblance to the flowing. I could tell Marty was suffering. I had a bit of a hangover, but Marty's was much worse. His was a mix of alcohol and God alone knew what else. I didn't like to see him suffer, but I had no sympathy for him. Even worse I was going to have to tell him it was time to reset the relationship gauge to friendship. If he took it poorly, then the trip would disintegrate quickly.We rode the new improved bikes up the very slight inclines seemingly effortlessly. Sure we bled off a little speed, but we didn't get slow enough to pedal the bikes. Even so, the GPS told us we weren't going to make our day's objectives. Of course the trip plan hadn't taken orgy into consideration. Our plan called for us to make 200 miles on Sunday, we made less than 75 miles. We stopped at an adobe knockoff motel compound a few miles from Snyder, Texas.Even though he blamed it on the gathering clouds, Marty needed the downtime. The motel compound had an old style cafe and general store. The selection was crap in the.
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