Butterfly Chaos

And then Henry's pulses were subsiding, he was pulling back, sliding out, a huge emptiness suddenly replacing the incredible, wondrous fullness.

She spun about beneath him, looked up face to face and said quietly "Good GOD! What have we been missing!?" Then, a moment later, worried, "What's Harold doing?"

Henry was keeping track: "He's wandering around collecting loose bits. But we better get ourselves together now. Unfortunately. Damn, but you are superb, Lover!"

She went suddenly quite shy: "Really?"

He nodded: "You are absolutely incredible. You have pussy and rectal muscles as strong as a milking machine. That's the highest possible praise, you know!" He kissed her again: "Best buttfuck of my life, and the longest-desired, bar none."

Beneath him, she spread her legs wide, dropped her hands to his butt, pulled him towards her: "Please... just once all the way in, as deep as we can? Just so we've done it face to face?" He complied enthusiastically, then, as he bottomed out, she asked "What now? I need at least a couple of hours of this. Nonstop. A week would be better."

Henry replied "That's almost too easy. Every conference you attend from now on, including Phoenix next month... I'll be there too. We'll get the two hours – hell, we'll get us a week! But now we HAVE to get respectable. Quick! Okay?"

Jodee replied happily "OKAY! You're on!"

They were both fully dressed when, a few minutes later, they saw Harold returning. By the time Hubby arrived, Henry was standing next to the entryway doing his usual morning stretching: Jodee was seated on the ground, head down, meticulously tying her boots. Harold arrived with his and Jodee's backpacks slung awkwardly one per arm, and his hands full of miscellany, mostly cookware.

He stopped before them like a loaded yak. "Our faithful old tent ist alles kaput!!" he reported, shaking his head. "Looks like it was made love to by a lust-crazed sabertooth on acid. Resembles a plane-crash scene over there. But I suspect we'll eventually be able to find almost everything, with some searching." Harold unloaded, then said "So–- there seem to be two options. Either we go back, or we share Henry's tent again, for the duration really, and push on."

Jodee finished with her laces, put her hands on her knees, sat up straight and looked at the men. "Gentlemen," she said, in her soft 'Pay Attention!' voice. "I've been thinking. First of all, whatever we do will take more than a day, which means we have to share Henry's tent again, no matter what. Nobody gets to be a hero and sleep outside, because it's raining hard every night! So – if we turn back, I miss my alpine meadow in bloom, Harold misses his favorite trout lake, and Henry misses his photography. Going back means two more nights of sharing the tent, minimum – plus those disappointments. Continuing means a week of tent-sharing, and fulfillments instead of the agony of defeat. Henry's tent isn't TINY, it is a two-man. And I for one found last night reasonably comfortable. Even if not fully satisfying."

Henry gulped silently at that, glanced at Harold. Harold didn't flicker.

Jodee continued: "We were certainly not piled atop one another like cordwood. It was snug, but not ridiculous. I'm happy with the arrangements, and it could only be better if we can get set up intelligently, instead of in a midnight panic. So long as nobody has night terrors, or throws punches in the dark, I could put up with a week." She paused again, scanned the men's faces. "Besides," she grinned. "Sharing is supposed to be good for the soul. A mark of adulthood, and friendship, and being good Scouts, and all that. Okay?"

Harold looked at Henry: "It's your tent. Okay with you?"

Henry nodded. "Hell's bells, of course it's okay. It's not MY tent now, it's OURS. We share."

Jodee reached out with her hands: "Very well, that's decided. Now if you two supposed gentlemen will help a lady to her feet..." They took hold, tugged her up. She dusted off her bottom, eying them. "You two go on over to ground zero and salvage stuff." She put a hand on each man's shoulder, gave a gentle push. ""Meanwhile, let me see what I can do about getting us some coffee and maybe even a real breakfast. Henry has plenty of food here! Now, GO!"

The men grinned at one another. Harold muttered "She who must be obeyed", then turned and strode off. Henry gave her his smartest USMC salute: "Yes MA'AM!" As he turned to fall in behind Harold, Henry threw one final glance at Jodee. The expression on her face was one of transcendent expectation, happiness, satisfaction. Some days, the magic DOES work! Her bottom was a-tingle, almost pulsing, with combined memory and anticipation. Visions of well-designed functional topology of bags and zippers and bodies – and the consequences – almost reduced her to jelly. She grinned at him, clenched a fist with thumb up, and mouthed "YES!" Henry nodded in perfect agreement, and charged off after Harold.