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“Who’s badgering who, here?” he asked, trying to look miffed.“Get naked!” she ordered.“Oooooo,” he simpered. “You’re so forceful!”“If you don’t get naked pretty damn quick, you’re going to wish a bear mauled you,” she threatened, stepping closer.In answer, he reached out and tweaked a nipple. Both of them jumped back and he dodged behind the stove as she came for him. He tried to keep the stove between them as he unbuttoned his own shirt and tossed it on a bunk. She darted, this way and that, and, because he was watching her breasts bounce and sway, he missed seeing the wood box and went sprawling. She was on him instantly, tearing at his belt. He went limp and let her have her way, lifting his hips while she dragged his jeans down. She left them at his knees and tore at his jockeys, to expose his erection. When it came into view, she sat back on her haunches.“I’ll always be amazed that I can do that to a man,” she sighed.Bob grinned. “And I’ll always be amazed that a woman will leave. It was at that moment someone tapped my shoulder. I turned to face the person behind me. Oh, Jesus. It was her. Her large, white sweater was pulled down past her ass, covering her tiny shorts, but only just. Her white bra was barely visible through her top; more of an outline than real definition. Her hair, red, was pulled into a lazy pony tail and glasses sat on the end of her nose. My eyes followed the curve of her neck down her collar bone, over her boobs and hips down to her knees. My gaze darted back up to her face. She appeared to be waiting for a response. Oh, shit! She asked me question! I fought desperately for an answer to a question I did not hear. "I said, can I have the window seat?" she asked, apparently again, and looking slightly more irritated than before. Sweet Mother of God, she had an Australian accent. As I live and breath... "Uh-uh, yeah. Sure," I said, probably smoothly, but I don't remember. I started to get up to let her in, but she was in a rush to get out.
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