feeling it would be frowned upon for some kind of insurance bullshit thing. Oh well. Until they catch me, I’ve found a nice little spot where I can work on my tan and steal some alone time. The guys left after lunch to go ride at the nearby cliffs with some locals, and Emilia’s taking a nap, all the stress from the wedding having finally caught up with her, so I’ve got a little time before anyone’s wondering where I’m at.
The timer from my phone goes off, momentarily interrupting Jack Johnson’s intoxicating voice in my headphones, to remind me it’s time to turn over. As I flip over from my stomach to my back, careful to stay on the towel and not burn my ass on the scorching black roof, something catches my attention in the expansive field adjacent to the parking lot. A giant hot air balloon is being readied for takeoff.
Immediately, I’m captivated, twisting around so that I can see what’s going on more clearly. The brightness of the yellows and oranges swirled across the rich red background of the balloon warms me from the inside out. The couple waiting near the basket for the pilot’s instructions are holding each other tight, both slightly bouncing on the balls of their feet as the eagerness and anticipation blends with that teeny tiny bit of fear of the unknown and uncontrollable. A massive flame blazes to life and the couple jumps back slightly before inching closer to the basket, the entire rig nearly upright and ready to go now.
The pilot’s hand motions them inside the wicker rectangle, next to him, and as they scamper inside and lift off from the ground, my pulse picks up and my palms feel clammy. I’m excited and nervous for the strangers. I wonder if the guy is going to propose or make some incredibly dreamy declaration of his love while they’re floating alongside the white cottony tendrils brushed across the vivid azure sky. I sure hope he does. Hot air balloons are romantic.
For the next hour and a half, I soak up the hot summer rays, and when I eventually slip off the roof and back into the bus, it’s in the nick of time. As I step into the shower to wash the congealed sweat and sunscreen off my body, I hear the guys’ deep voices echoing through the bus, hooting and hollering about some sick-ass jump. Emilia was still asleep when I came back in a few minutes ago, but with all the racket they’re making out there, she’s got to be awake now.
Suddenly, despite the fact I know I locked the bathroom door, it clangs open and Levi steps inside, dirty, grimy, and hot as hell. He stares at my silhouette through the frosted glass for a second then adjusts his crotch. “You ready for some company in there?” he growls.
“Actually, I’m pretty sure I locked the door, which normally is a good indicator I don’t want anyone to come in,” I quip, unable to keep my smart mouth in check around him. I’m not even sure why I said it. We both know I want him to join me. I just don’t want him to know how much I want him to join me. If that makes any fucking sense at all.
He laughs and shakes his head, but begins to shed his layers of riding clothes anyway. “I’ll ask you again in a few minutes when you’re bent over the faucet, stuffed full with my cock. Maybe you’ll have warmed up to the idea by then.”
Much like the flame heating up the air inside the hot air balloon, my core blazes alive with his gruff words. By the time he’s positioned behind me in the cramped stall, with a strong grip on each of my hipbones and the crown of his cock gliding up and down the seam of my drenched slit, I’ve much more than warmed up to the notion.
“What do you think so far? Are you having a good time?” Emilia questions me in between the races, her big brown eyes teeming with hope. “I’m sorry I passed out on you this afternoon. I hope you weren’t too bored.”
Patting her arm, I smile reassuringly. “No worries, sweets. I’m always down for a good afternoon nap. I took one too,
The timer from my phone goes off, momentarily interrupting Jack Johnson’s intoxicating voice in my headphones, to remind me it’s time to turn over. As I flip over from my stomach to my back, careful to stay on the towel and not burn my ass on the scorching black roof, something catches my attention in the expansive field adjacent to the parking lot. A giant hot air balloon is being readied for takeoff.
Immediately, I’m captivated, twisting around so that I can see what’s going on more clearly. The brightness of the yellows and oranges swirled across the rich red background of the balloon warms me from the inside out. The couple waiting near the basket for the pilot’s instructions are holding each other tight, both slightly bouncing on the balls of their feet as the eagerness and anticipation blends with that teeny tiny bit of fear of the unknown and uncontrollable. A massive flame blazes to life and the couple jumps back slightly before inching closer to the basket, the entire rig nearly upright and ready to go now.
The pilot’s hand motions them inside the wicker rectangle, next to him, and as they scamper inside and lift off from the ground, my pulse picks up and my palms feel clammy. I’m excited and nervous for the strangers. I wonder if the guy is going to propose or make some incredibly dreamy declaration of his love while they’re floating alongside the white cottony tendrils brushed across the vivid azure sky. I sure hope he does. Hot air balloons are romantic.
For the next hour and a half, I soak up the hot summer rays, and when I eventually slip off the roof and back into the bus, it’s in the nick of time. As I step into the shower to wash the congealed sweat and sunscreen off my body, I hear the guys’ deep voices echoing through the bus, hooting and hollering about some sick-ass jump. Emilia was still asleep when I came back in a few minutes ago, but with all the racket they’re making out there, she’s got to be awake now.
Suddenly, despite the fact I know I locked the bathroom door, it clangs open and Levi steps inside, dirty, grimy, and hot as hell. He stares at my silhouette through the frosted glass for a second then adjusts his crotch. “You ready for some company in there?” he growls.
“Actually, I’m pretty sure I locked the door, which normally is a good indicator I don’t want anyone to come in,” I quip, unable to keep my smart mouth in check around him. I’m not even sure why I said it. We both know I want him to join me. I just don’t want him to know how much I want him to join me. If that makes any fucking sense at all.
He laughs and shakes his head, but begins to shed his layers of riding clothes anyway. “I’ll ask you again in a few minutes when you’re bent over the faucet, stuffed full with my cock. Maybe you’ll have warmed up to the idea by then.”
Much like the flame heating up the air inside the hot air balloon, my core blazes alive with his gruff words. By the time he’s positioned behind me in the cramped stall, with a strong grip on each of my hipbones and the crown of his cock gliding up and down the seam of my drenched slit, I’ve much more than warmed up to the notion.
“What do you think so far? Are you having a good time?” Emilia questions me in between the races, her big brown eyes teeming with hope. “I’m sorry I passed out on you this afternoon. I hope you weren’t too bored.”
Patting her arm, I smile reassuringly. “No worries, sweets. I’m always down for a good afternoon nap. I took one too,
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