"Hurry up!" he calls over his shoulder to Lucy. "We're going to miss the breezy ride!" he yells with a little more urgency than I expected.
"Breezy ride?" I ask, looking at Cass. He gives me a wicked grin.
"Yeah, it's at midnight every night of the rally where every one who wants to participate gets naked and makes a lap around the campground. You'll see everyone lining up shortly. Actually, there they go now," he says, pointing to the line of motorcycle, golf carts, and side by sides.
Sure enough, everyone is naked. Everywhere I look, there's nudity. Tits, ass and even swinging flaccid cocks. One of the women jingles as she rides by, catching my attention. Upon further inspection, I notice that the jingle I hear is the sound of her multiple piercings in her vagina, clanking together.
"We call her tacklebox," Cass says, elbowing me.
I stare at him in amused horror. That was entirely too many sounds at once. Both the jingle and the tidbit of information from Cass. "That's terrible!" I say, slapping his arm.
"Want to do the ride?" he asks.
I shake my head no immediately, almost giving myself whiplash. "Nope. Nuh uh."
He laughs and pulls me into his arms. "That's my girl," he whispers, kissing my neck. I lean into him and close my eyes, swaying back and forth with him as the sounds of pipes in the breezy ride resound around us.
Everyone around us has disappeared, participating in the breezy ride. The ick I feel from the mud beginning to dry on my skin is starting to set in, though.
"I'm so gross," I say, looking down at my shirt and shorts.
"Take some of those clothes off. Everyone else is naked, you can strip down to one less layer," Cass says with hooded eyes.
"Oh yeah?" I ask. I strip off my muddy tank top and shimmy out of the heavy blue jean shorts. The rain, though it didn't feel like it at the time, was a lot colder than it seemed. My skin is cool to the touch and I feel warmer once I get the wet material off me.
I set the muddy clothes on an empty table, promising to deal with them tomorrow when it's daylight and I'm sober. Cass all but drags me inside the RV, halting abruptly when he sees Scott and Molly sprawled out on the fold out couch bed. He giggles softly as we snake our way through the small opening to make our way to the master bed. I pause at the shower.
"I need to finish getting the dirt off me before I crawl in that bed with you," I say.
I unclasp my bra and slip my underwear off my ankles, throwing them straight into the washing machine sitting in the same room. Cass starts removing clothes and steps inside the shower with me. It's a small shower and it's so difficult to move that I shove him out. "Out, out, out!" I chant.
"I can't even just stand in there with you?" he asks, poking his bottom lip out.
"Nope. Give me two minutes, then I'm all yours," I whisper yell, slamming the door shut. Whoops. That closed harder than I anticipated. I'll apologize for waking our guests tomorrow.
I can still see Cass's silhouette outside of the distorted shower glass door. He's waiting patiently and I'm scrubbing persistently. I step out and he's holding a towel open for me.
"You're too sweet," I grin, stepping in his arms. He kisses me gently before turning us around and stepping into the shower himself. It takes him half of the time it took me, but he was less muddy. His blue jeans took the brunt of the mud, whereas my skin was the target. I had a little more skin showing than he did, and by a little, I mean a lot.
I'm dried off and sprawled across the bed, waiting for Cass. Between the shower, the comfortability of the bed, the cold aircondition blowing, and the alcohol, I don't make it to see Cass getting in the bed. I sleep so hard that I don't even remember Cass climbing in beside me.
Waking the next morning, there’s a painful thumping in my head. I don't have a clue what time it is, but a sliver of daylight seeps through the cracks of the window covers in the room. I slip out of bed to pee and stumble my way back in. Cass stirs when I crawl back underneath the blanket, nestling in close to him.
He wraps his arm around me, and I snuggle into my favorite spot on his chest. I run my fingers through the thick hair on his chest, admiring the view. There's just enough light in here for me to make out his features. The tattoos that span from his shoulder to his elbow on one arm, and a full sleeve on the other.
"I want your hand tattooed," I whisper.
Cass's laughter makes my head bounce on his chest.
"That was random," he rasps.
"I have this fantasy in my mind of your hand being tattooed and wrapped around my throat," I confess.
"Consider it done," he growls, rolling to face me, his hard length poking me in the leg. I slip my hand between us and stroke him. I take it slow, long stroking. Teasing him. Making his mouth part and his brows furrow together. The look on his face when I'm pleasing him does insatiable things to me.
I tug him on top of me, my need to feel him inside of me making me impatient. Cass obliges happily, positioning himself between my legs. He rubs the head of his hard cock against my entrance, slowly and gently. Back and forth. From my entrance, up to my clit, and back again. I whimper at the sensation, my body ready and trembling.
I slip my hand between us, holding him in place while pressing against his butt with my heels. He chuckles, low and breathy as he presses into me. First, he only moves the head in and out, teasing me. Pleasing me. He rocks his hips, staying shallow.
