1. Eating Breakfast In Glass Slippers


    Date: 11/8/2014, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: TheScheherezadeFeint, Rating: 26, Source: LushStories

    want to come?” “Nah.” “Are you sure?” she asks. “Yeah, I'll be fine. Just going to find myself a drink and hang out for a bit,” I deceive her, “Have a good time.” As soon as she's gone, I wander toward the bonfires. Glowing sparks dance on the wake of embers hurled skyward by three bonfires on the hillside. All told, my life so far, this is probably where I should be tonight instead of a honeymoon suite. That was his idea anyway. I'd have rather been outside tonight in the first place. Rolling hills, grand oak trees, a big, beautiful hay barn. Scarlet sundown turning fast to night the color of coal. Suddenly, a tall silhouette stands in front of me, blocking what remains of the sun,“Howdy,” he says, holding two beers. “Sup?” I ask, taking a beer. “You look cold,” he tells me, eying my sundress in the fading light. I smile back at him and say “Thanks,” for the beer as he hands it to me, and shrug as I tell him “I am a bit,” though only barely. Removing his large, heavy jacket he hangs it off my shoulders like a cape. The sleeves dangle like wings almost to me knees, and his plaid clad chest is shown off a little better. I like it. He looks nice in the sunset, the cool breeze tossing his dark hair around in the wind just as far as it will go - which isn't far. Looks like a couple of days since he's shaved, and he smells like woodsmoke. “Wanna go for a walk?” he asks casually. “Yeah, alright,” I tell him, looking halfway away, “Where to?” “Anywhere,” he says, offering me his ...
    arm, “How about the river?” I take his arm and follow him silently, wondering how much interest he has in my words. For a moment I wonder how much interest I have in his, as I feel his firm arm hugged tightly under mine. “Finally,” he says, cracking his beer and taking a sip. “What?” I ask him, doing the same. “Oh, nuthin'. I'm just glad to get away from all that smoke. I've been breathing it for two days.” I lean my head on him as we walk, unable to smell anything but burnt oak. I'm still pretty out of it, but in a few minutes, we get down to the river bank. Seems like a little sub-party has migrated down here, between two hills where the water slows down. A few couples mostly secluded and a handful of random extras splashing about or laying out on the rocks in the dim scarlet light. The air here, between the two slopes is cooler, and I hug the shoulders of his jacket closer to me. “Hey Luke!” One of the men in the water calls over to him. “Marcus!” He calls back jovially, raising his beer, as we pass, more or less ignoring him. Instead of stopping, we keep walking, sipping our beers. Moving along the river, I can see the bottom of it. Rocks. Round ones. Little bugs. Probably fish where there's a current. I take my head off of Luke's triceps for a moment and smell the world away from the smoke, and away from the smog. Clean. Breathing in, I feel the humidity of the river just cleaning me out; which is good, because I am wobbling on my feet. After being quiet for a moment, Luke ...
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