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For almost an hour she lay there feigning sleep but in reality savouring the admiring glances of both men and women alike.She heard two girls giggling and stifled a moan of pleasure as one said that she wouldn't mind tasting Claire's hot little pussy."Come on you fucking slut," laughed her friend, "You can taste mine instead." and Claire almost came as she felt her pussy clenching and unclenching while watching the two sexy little lovers walking away arm in arm.Finally, she got up and looked around before walking casually through the supine sunbathers to where she'd seen a youth sunbathing by himself.She approached him silently and stood beside his head until her shadow over his face awoke him, and his eyes flickered open, he smiled and made no attempt to hide the fact that he was looking directly up her skirt to where her panties were pulled up tightly in between her puffy labia."Nice view," he smiled."I'm looking for the toilets," she smiled making no attempt to move away, her knees. I still wanted him. Needed him, really—more and more with each passing moment—and on our first night back that next summer, I thought for certain I’d get my chance.The staff always got together that night, drinking way too much around a roaring bonfire. Someone strummed the obligatory guitar. A few brave souls stripped, and went skinny dipping down in the lake. I sat on a log beside Eliot, our knees nearly touching. The static electricity bristled. Honeybees buzzed in my stomach. In truth, I’d never been so close to him before. He rolled a cigarette for himself, and one for me, asking how I fell into horses as he struck his match. I told him I’d been riding my whole life. He said something smart, and I smiled. I told him a joke, and he laughed. We both laughed—harder and harder as the bottle of rye evanesced. He slapped his knee, and squeezed my thigh. I teased him for wearing his gauntlets all the time—an archer’s affectation—and he smacked me playfully on the ass as I went to go.
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