“Guess not,” he agrees. “I’m going to use the toilet. My bladder is threatening a revolt otherwise.”
I watch Dana get up. He’s far less self-conscious this morning. Walking around with his semi-hard dick swinging, and his bouncy ass on full display.
Sexy.
I sit up and close my eyes, enjoying the twinge in my ass. Has anyone ever fucked me so good? I’m not sure I’ve ever gotten off quite like that. That’s the magic of being with someone who knows what they’re doing.
Or maybe it’s just the chemistry between us.
After a quick stretch, I get to my feet and head for the stove to restock the wood. We’d been so focused on getting inside that I hadn’t noticed if there was wood outside to replace what we’re using. As I’m filling the belly of the stove, I wonder if they chop trees here or bring in chopped wood. It feels like a lot of energy to bring it in.
I’m just getting to my feet when Dana comes out of the bathroom. He crosses to the counter and ‘washes’ his hands with hand sanitizer. “I miss running water,” he says. “Were there any wet wipes in the cabinet?”
I laugh. “You were supposed to take inventory while I made the fire,” I point out.
He joins me a second later, and I pull him against me, my arm around his waist as we enjoy the heat on our skin. “I was distracted from being soaked. I may need another look.” But he makes no move to do so. He leans his weight against me, and for several minutes, we don’t move.
“I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were crushing on me,” I say. “You deserve better than that.”
“I deserve what I say I deserve,” he disagrees. I smile when he turns his face into my shoulder, kissing me. “Besides, we all go through our own shit. I’m happy to be here with you now.”
“Me too,” I say. I’m surprised by just how much I mean that. “I can’t think of someone better to spend this weird date with.”
Dana huffs. “It’s been a great date, Peyton.”
“We’ll see how long you sing that tune while we wait for the storm to break.”
He grins.
“Go investigate again, and I’m going to choose some breakfast after I use the toilet.”
“I suppose I should be grateful that we have a toilet,” he says.
“Unless you want to shit behind a tree in a thunderstorm, I say you count your blessings, hot stuff.”
He laughs as he grabs one of the lanterns from the table and heads back to the cabinet. I use the toilet and he’s right. I miss running water. Even though I don’t piss on my hand and don’t take a shit, using an outhouse always makes me feel like I need to wash.
Especially my feet since they’re bare. Ew.
I cross the room to join Dana in hopes that he found some wet wipes. Which he did, thank fuck. I’m amused when I find him wiping his feet.
“I’m glad I’m not alone in how gross it feels to be walking around barefoot,” I say, and join him in this exciting activity.
Dana snorts. “I’m about to make a confession. I never walk around barefoot. Ever. I always have something hard-soled on my feet because people are gross and unsanitary.”
“Finally. Someone who understands the struggles of being slightly terrified of germs.”
He nods. “Trust me. I get it.” He pulls out a couple pairs of socks. “This is as close as I can find to foot protection, which is better than nothing.”
“That’s a start. See what else you can find in there. I’m checking our shoes for dryness as a pit stop before I check out food. Priorities.”
Dana grins, nods, and turns back to the pantry. I’m laughing inside because we look absolutely ridiculous walking around naked with socks on. Wow. What people would think.
I adjust our shoes under the stove. It doesn’t sit low to the ground, for which I’m thankful, so I shove them fully under it, and they don’t touch. I check on our clothes, arranging them to move the dry items behind the damp ones. With as warm as it is in here, I’m surprised they’re not bone dry.
Finally, I head for the tote of food and dig around inside. I take half of what’s remaining in there for brunch and set up our towels and blankets on the floor again. Dana joins me on the floor and we dig into our meal.
“This food is delicious,” he says.
