A Land Far, Far Away

He straightened himself, smoothing his bandana down then firmly securing it in place. He then lifted his jacket and T-shirt, lowered it and lifted again, attempting to cool off his overheated body parts.

Mecca soon began to stir, freeing herself from the tree's embrace, securing her own bandana back into place then searching out her lower garments.

"Never did it outside before," he said.

"Me either," she said. "Or standing up." She stood up, shook off her shorts, used her panties to clean herself then slid her shorts on. "Nothing comes between me and my Calvins," she winked at him. "Here," she tossed him the used, pale pink cotton fabric. "I've got others in the car."

He caught them midair, mildly abashed, then used them to lightly clean his genitals. Since they'd both agreed that sex was . . . indescribably better without all the provolactic encumbrances, she went on the Pill, and, to be completely fair, he paid for them. But, the lack of condoms did make for a messier clean up.

He was going to throw them back, having carefully dabbed beneath his balls, but before he could, she waved him away. "Keep 'em," she said.

If he wasn't flushed before, he certainly was, now. "What for?" he laughed.

"I dunno," she shrugged. "Whatever guys do with women's underwear."

He looked at the pale pink fabric, now stained with splotches of white. "I have no clue about that."

"Well," she shrugged again, "I'm sure you'll figure something out." She then began the climb back up to the shoulder of the highway, fading into the greenery, leaving him with his pants down.

He'd certainly get her back for this.

"C'mon," she called back after him. "You know I can't drive stick."

He pulled up his pants and boxers all at once, adjusted himself, then secured his drawstring. He then took off after her. "Maybe you can't drive stick, but I'll teach you how to handle my stick once we get to the campground."

"Promises, promises."

He ducked and dodged his way back up the embankment, avoiding the Poison Ivy and dodging the brier patch. "And you best put some damn panties on before you sit on my seat."

The girl laughed.

"All my boys don't need to know what your puss smells like when they climb in my car."

She laughed again. "Like they can't smell it when you talk to them."

"Ohhh," he groaned. "You're just askin' for it."

She disappeared through the canopy of foliage, having broken back into the daylight. "Open the car, asshole."

"Lick my ass, cocksucker." He, too, broke through the foliage, shielding his eyes as they readjusted to the full brightness of daylight. He pulled his keys from his pocket, disengaged the alarm and unlocked the doors.

Mecca went immediately to the trunk, retrieving a fresh pair of panties from her pack. He climbed into the driver's side, cranked the ignition and rolled down the windows. She soon joined him in the passenger's seat.

"I was just kidding about the underwear, you know."

"I know," she shrugged. "But, seriously, decent girls don't go without panties."

He took hold of the steering wheel, turned the key in the ignition, pushed in the clutch, shifted into first, second, then third as he resumed his place in the normal flow of traffic.

"So . . . in the car, in the shop, at your place or in a motel?"

"What?" he finally said.

"Your first time. Where was it?"

He laughed to himself. "You don't miss a beat, do you?"

"Not really."

He smiled to himself. "In a gazebo, in a park, just before daybreak, during a rainstorm."

"Nuh-uh."

"No. It was just after a free concert, and everyone else had left and cleared out. We stayed and hung around, and it started to rain and . . ."

"You gave her your jacket, and asked her if she was cold."

"And she said, 'No,' and started taking all her clothes off . . ."

"Cuz she was so hot, and she just couldn't resist your animal magnetism."

"So she throws me on my back and climbs on top of me."

"Don't forget your clothes," she said.

"She ripped those off with her teeth. She was a wildcat. Clawing and biting and licking."

Mecca laughed. "You are so full of shit. You wouldn't even kiss a girl if you thought someone could see you . . . let alone fuck her. And you just told me you'd never done it outside before."

He smiled at her. "So I . . . embellished the truth a little."

"A little?" she laughed.

"Or a lot," he admitted. "But you're right. I'm way too self-conscious for anything like that. To be that out in the open. But it kinda sounds good, doesn't it?"

"Hey, I can make believe just as well as the next chick."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

She smiled at him, tossing her head to the side, smoothing her blue bandana back in place. "Who's to say our tent isn't a gazebo?"

"You can't be serious."

She sat back in her seat, an altogether smug smile on her face. "Well, you'll just have to wait and see when we get there, won't you?"

"Mecca . . ."

Part 2 to follow . . .