Your breasts sway like bags of water near my face. I can feel the roughness of your pubic hair brushing the tip of my now-hardened penis. I wonder if you realize at all how close we are to joining at this very moment. It is all I can do to repress the urge to thrust upwards into your body and merge with you. But after few moments, the look in your eyes fades from feral animal to passion-filled lover and you release my shoulders, settling back onto your haunches — and onto my erection. You gasp as the tip penetrates your slickened labia. You seem caught in a dilemma as you move your hips back and forth, spreading the lubricant all over the tip of my manhood, yet not giving into your urge to simply plunge down over me. What are you waiting for? As if summoning up all your energy, you force yourself to climb off of me and crawl towards the low-burning fire. Reaching into the can you left near the edge of the fire, you pull out some kind of plastic tube. Tossing back and forth between. Michael and Talon, the name he chose for the small craft and lovingly inscribed on her stern, became daily companions.Early mornings were his favorite, an hour of rowing down the quiet canals, or a hard fast push out in the intercostal, every morning that he could, rain, shine, cold, heat, Michael and Talon could almost always be found on the river discovering her mysteries and reveling in the connection with her.It was seeing the three-man scull the day before that had sealed the deal. Michael was looking forward to getting back on the water. He had rowed through college, always making time between the deadlines, headaches and his one other passion to find some peaceful moments on the water.With graduation and starting his professional life the trips to the river had become more and more infrequent and then finally stopped. This would be a perfect opportunity to pick it back up again and hopefully find the peace and balance that being alone on the water had always provided him.The.
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