Fourth of July on Gold Peak

She began tugging at his boxers. He helped her off with them, and she took his manhood in one strong and agile hand. As she alternately stroked and massaged him, he sang out a long, low, rumbling groan of pleasure.

"Oh, Jeanette! Wonderful. It feels..."

She worked him slowly, sensually, as a potter works her clay, until at last he covered her hand with his and stilled her motion.

"Just a little too good," he confessed. "If we don't slow down..." he twinkled at her with that green-eyed, boyish grin she loved. "Jeanette, let me look at you," he repeated. Throw back the blankets and let me see it all - every perfect inch, every lovely curve." Goddess of dawn. Those perfect breasts! They had bewitched him from first acquaintance. He ached to see them now, to draw aside that virginal white veil and gaze upon their splendor.

"But it's so cold," she protested.

"Oh, Jeanette, how can you deny me, when these loving eyes have never gazed upon such beauty before?" A rich, rolling brogue she had never heard before had crept suddenly into his voice.

That melting voice! Those roguish green eyes!

A pleasing and gentle tapping rolled over the roof and glass walls. The lovers gazed up to find mountain raindrops sprinkling and dancing across the window panes.

"I'll make you a promise," she purred in his ear. "Love me under the covers. Keep me warm and cozy. Whisper poems to me, like you did last night; and later, when it's warm again, we'll go out in the sunlight. I'll take off my clothes for you, and you can see everything - for as long as you want."

He grinned at her with boyish mischief. "I can look at anything I like?"

"Honey, I can do better than that. Keep me warm now, and later, you can fuck me any way you like!"

He tore off her bra without another thought.

He lay beside her, face to face, crushing her body into his, kissing her with renewed intensity, ravishing her mouth with his. With one deft motion, she slipped off her panties and threw one leg around him. His ardent fingers discovered her sweet, lustrous pussy and found it warm, slick, and wet.

He teased her opening, and she breathed hard in his ear. He slid one finger slowly inside her, probing and wriggling, and she moaned for him, a low, thrilling moan. He teased every surface inside her, and it didn't take long for her tight grip to relax.

"More," she breathed. With a bit of wriggling, she slid down and found his cock again with her hand. "More," she repeated.

As she massaged him, he slid a second finger inside her. Her groans became gasps of pleasure!

His writhing fingers soon found a rhythm, and her body began to pulse to that rhythm.

"Yes," she breathed. "Yes! Yes, just like that."

Her eyes closed and her hand lost his cock as she slipped into the exquisite ebb and flow. Delicious waves of heat began pouring though her body.

"Just like that. Don't stop!"

"I won't stop, Love. I promise. I want you to come for me."

"Oh I'll come for you, Honey. It's gonna be hot!"

"Fuck yes, Jeanette. Make it hot. Make it sweet."

"Poetry," she whispered. "You promised."

.

"Thy beauty! ah, the eyes that pierce him thro'

Then melt as in a dream;

The voice that sings the mysteries of the blue

And all that Be and Seem!"

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"Oh yes, Ryan. Yes! Look me straight in the eyes. Your eyes. Your voice!"

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"Thy lovely motions answering to the rhyme

That ancient Nature sings,"

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"So close. So close!"

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"That keeps the stars in cadence for all time,

And echoes through all things!"

.

"Oh, I'm coming, Ryan. I'm fucking coming!"

.

"Whether he sees thee thus, or in his dreams,

Thy light makes all lights dim;"

.

"Oh, Ryan!"

.

"An aching solitude from henceforth seems

The world of men to him."

.

Jeanette was a beautiful girl, and she gave generously of her body. She came for him. With the hot blood of youth and the strength of an athlete, she came for him.

Half a minute was not time enough for Jeanette to recover her breath, but it was all the patience Ryan could bear.

"I have to be inside you, Jeanette. Say yes."

"Yes. Oh yes, Ryan."

He slid his hungry cock inside her and groaned mightily, his eyes rolled back in his head. "Feels so good... I can't believe..."

She tightened her grip on him, kissed him a few times, and whispered in his ear. "Now it's my turn. I want you to come for me, and don't hold anything back."

"You know I'm a gentleman, Love. I'll never let you down."

And then he was thrusting into her - slow but hard, grinding into her, luxuriating in her hot, wet comfort.

"Oh, Jeanette," he groaned. "I'm gonna come... fast."

"Don't hold back, Honey. Give it to me. Doesn't have to be slow, just make it loud and hard."

She lay beside and wrapped around him, squeezing his body, while he fucked her, slow and hard.

He groaned. He grunted. His body shook with waves of pleasure.

"Jeanette, I'm gonna come!"

"Give me everything! Don't hold back."

Some inner restraint tugged at him. It whispered to him that he must keep some last secret to himself. It warned him not to frighten her away. It was the last relic of Boston and the old Ryan, and he joyously swept it away.

He exploded into her; mind, heart, and body. Loud. Hard. He held nothing back. With a roar that he felt must surely shake the window panes, he poured everything into lovely Jeanette.

An age seemed to pass before he had caught his breath and he held her eyes again. She lay smiling and happy, arms around him, one leg thrown over him, intoxicated, warm and cozy.

"I love you, Jeanette. I never knew that I could feel this way about anyone, love as completely as this, not until I met you."

"I love you too, Ryan. I knew somehow - you and me - I want to love you always."

"Always," he whispered.

"I can't believe we did it."

"Did what? You mean... it? On the first date?"

"I mean the clouds."

Ryan gazed at the windows, where drops of rain were still gently splashing in the mountain mist.

"We still have time," he observed, "another hour at least."

"Then let's not waste it," she purred.

With the rain softly drumming against roof and glass, Ryan and Jeanette made love in the clouds.

The mist did indeed burn off before lunchtime, and the lovers packed a picnic and hit the mountain hiking trails, (not trails really, but places where Ryan had found the walking to be easy and picturesque.) After a couple hours of leisurely walking, they stopped for lunch at Diamond Cap, a scenic rise nearly as high as the summit itself. There had been a considerable wind earlier, as the sun rose in the sky and the earth warmed to her radiance. But there was little breeze now. The sultry July air hung like a cozy blanket over the mountaintops, and Ryan and Jeanette rolled out a great sleeping bag under a shade tree.

"Come and see," said Ryan, climbing to the highest ground and gesturing for Jeanette to follow. "There are twenty-seven lakes visible from the tower, and you can see most of them from here." He held her in one arm while he pointed with the other. His finger swept across the mountaintops from horizon to horizon, pausing on every sparkling flash of sapphire.

"That's Crystal Lake," he said. "The nearest road access to it is miles down the mountain, but the huckleberry enthusiasts hike up there all the time anyway. Best berries in three states, they say, and they've got the pies and jams to prove it. You can get them at every little country store on Highway 97.

"That's Heiress Lake there. There's a ghost town and some abandoned mines. There's a story about lost treasure out there too. Some bandits were supposed to have robbed a payroll train and hidden the loot somewhere - an old mineshaft maybe. Hikers comb the place with metal detectors sometimes.

"That's Winter Lake down in all the Tamarack and Douglas Fir. The black bears are bad there, but folks can't leave it alone. It's the best lake fishing in these mountains: bass, lake trout."

She clutched him a little tighter, and he hastened to add,

"We never get any bears up here on Gold Peak - nothing up this high that bears would want.

"Now over there is Sun Lake. There's an old ghost story there. They say that back in 1949..."

He went on like that, a story for each lake, something to give each one a unique personality and a bit of excitement. Jeanette knew she would never remember all the details, but she loved the sound of Ryan's voice and the twinkle of enthusiasm in his eyes. Let him tell stories all afternoon, as long as he held her close like that, looked at her in that magical way, and spoke to her in that voice from a pleasant dream.

Under the tree, they ate sandwiches and drank iced tea. Mountain bluebirds sang for them, and an occasional gust of wind in the canyon made the treetops below ripple and whisper. A benevolent warmth drifted down from the lazy July sun.

"They say you can get used to anything," observed Ryan, "just stop noticing it and take it for granted."

"But not this." She took the words from his very lips. "Not beauty like this." She stretched out her arms in an encompassing gesture. "Don't they say that you don't appreciate what you have while you have it? Well they couldn't say that if they were sitting right here on Diamond Cap, looking out at this!"

"By God, I love you, Girl."

As Ryan packed away the picnic, Jeanette dragged the sleeping bag out of the shade and into the sun.

"What are you doing?" he quizzed.

"Keeping my promise."

"Promise?"

"I need to work on my tan." She drew a bottle of suntan oil out of her shoulder bag. Ryan looked merely puzzled. "Don't you remember? I promised you a look at everything I've got!"

She kicked off her shoes and socks in a moment, and then drew off her shirt slowly, teasingly. Beneath it, she was wearing a green bikini top.

Ryan was suddenly standing within reach, watching breathlessly, eyes wide and admiring. She draped the shirt over his shoulder and did a slow, stylish runway pirouette to give him a view.

Those breasts! His blood had been burning for this since his first view of Jeanette in Cascade Sportsman. For God's sake, take off that little green mask and stop teasing!

The shorts were next to go. There was the bikini bottom, shining in silky green, the perfect complement to her blazing auburn hair.

Jeanette's smooth, perfect skin, cream and roses, was now on tantalizing display before him: every delicate arc and jaunty feminine curve - well almost every one. A few laces and green satin triangles were all that stood between him and the naked, shining truth.

She did another slow twirl, and when she turned again to face him, he took her in his arms. He kissed her gently, nuzzled her neck, let his hands explore her naked back and hips.

God, he was sweating! It was the first time all over again, like he had never touched her before. The anticipation was killing him!

"Like what you see?" she whispered.

"Let me take off your top," he urged her, almost begged her.

"Yours first."

Ryan's clothes disappeared in a wild flash. He was standing now in only his boxers.

Jeanette smiled mischievously. She lifted her arms in the air, and Ryan was upon the laces of her bikini top in no time. The green satin fluttered away, and Ryan at long last had a clear view of the snowy white breasts that had haunted his imagination for two aching days!

Her budding coral nipples teased him from the centers of her caramel areolas. The round, full globes of faultless feminine youth danced for him as she stretched her arms high and wide.

Coral and pearls. Goddess of the sea!

"I told you I need to work on my tan," laughed Jeanette ruefully.

"No, no!" gasped Ryan. "They're perfect. Perfect." He reached forward with trembling hands, hardly daring.

Gold and silver. Goddess of moonlight!

He cupped and stroked her welcoming breasts with a kind of awe.

.

"I send you a cream-white rosebud

With a flush on its petal tips;

For the love that is purest and sweetest

Has a kiss of desire on the lips."

.

She poured suntan oil in her hands and began massaging it into his back. He groaned with pleasure. Then she took his hands from her breasts and filled them too with oil.

The lovers stood kissing and nuzzling now, hands anointing one another with oil and luxuriating in the slick warmth. The rich, seductive smell of pineapple and coconut teased them in the sultry, July air.

They were on their knees now, bodies pressed together. In between kisses, he whispered his longing to her.

"Do you remember the rest of your promise?"

"I think I said... you can fuck me any way you like - something like that!"

"That's just how I remember it."

"A promise is a promise."

"Of course, a true gentleman would never take advantage..."

"No, I want to, Ryan. I want to please you. Tell me."

Slowly, somewhat shyly, Ryan drew himself to his feet and kicked away his boxers. When Jeanette began to rise too, he restrained her with gentle hands on her shoulders.

"Ah," she said.

She crouched, spread her knees, and leaned forward to bring his eager, trembling cock squarely before her lips. She flashed him one more wicked smile and then turned her full attention to his aching need.

Her hands cupped him, caressed him, while her tongue flicked experimentally over the burning shaft and throbbing tip. Licks became kisses, and kisses became hungry gulps.

Ryan groaned and grunted with pleasure. Jeanette had mistaken his meaning, but this was too good to miss. The warm, wet heat of her loving tongue flowed through his cock and his whole body in a liquid rush. He nearly abandoned his first idea, driven mad for a moment with the urge to come for her sweet, hot lips.

But in a few moments, he regained some control.

Gently, somewhat reluctantly, he eased his manhood from her loving embrace. She looked up at him quizzically, and he gestured for the bottle of suntan oil, which had fallen to her side. She handed it to him, still slightly puzzled. He squeezed a tickling drizzle of the hot, sweet-scented oil on his cock, and then he poured a liberal stream onto her glistening, pink breasts.

"Ah," she said again.

He stroked her auburn hair. He begged her with his eyes. Jeanette threw him a wide, seductive grin. She drew her knees together and rose to her full kneeling height in one graceful motion. The angle was almost right. He had to spread his feet and bend his knees slightly to make it work, but now...

She squeezed her slick, shining breasts together for him, and he pressed forward gently, ever-so-gently, with his pulsing, shivering manhood.

So warm. So welcoming! So womanly.

"Oh, Jeanette!" he rasped. "It's too perfect. I can't fucking take it!"

He leaned forward and back with gentle thrusts. The sight of his swollen, purple tip disappearing, re-emerging, disappearing into her silky, concealing cleavage drove him mad with excitement.

Sometimes he fucked the tight, sweet channel she made for him with her soft, sweet breasts and squeezing hands. Sometimes he withdrew and caressed her gleaming, oil-slick nipples, her graceful neck, the hot flesh over her pounding heart with his admiring cock.

He was getting close now. He plunged himself again between her breasts, grabbed her shoulders, began thrusting more urgently.

"I'm gonna come, Jeanette! Oh, I'm gonna come. Let me come on your chest, Love. Say you'll let me."

"Yes, Honey. I want it. Come for me."

He exploded then, with full force. His knees went weak and nearly betrayed him, but he held on to her shoulders and came between her breasts.

Fire. Liquid heat! A crazy, delirious rush of passion.

Relaxation. Fulfillment. Sated warmth. A return of breath and senses.

He found himself lying half-upon and half-beside her, she on her back, he with his head resting on her smooth belly, rising and falling with her breathing. One of her hands caressed his hair, drew tickling circles on his ear.

"Happy Fourth of July, Ryan," she purred.

"Happy... Is it...? Yes, of course it is."

"How did you like your fireworks?"

"Jeanette, that was wonderful! Amazing. Better than I could have dreamed!"

She chuckled with gentle pleasure.

He rose to his elbows, positioned his head between her legs. The silky green bikini bottom had somehow survived the frenzy. No matter. Just slide it aside that one critical inch.

"And now it's your turn, Love," he said. "I think I might have a few fireworks for you too."

He lowered his lips to her slick, rosy warmth; reveled in the heady, feminine musk of her scent. He gave her a long, hot, breath that sent tingles through her and made her wriggle.

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"Onward to the glen below;

Every nook and turn we know

Where the passion-haunted stream

Laughs and lingers in its dream,"

.

"Happy Fourth of July, Jeanette," he whispered.

And then he began kissing her, high in the sweet, green heat of the mountains, under the languid July sun

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Verse Attributions

"O Wind from the West, blow high, blow low..." - from "The Wind From the West" by Ella Young

"Her well-rounded bosom shone / Soft and fair as the mountain-snow..." from "Vision of a Fair Woman", Ancient Celtic Verse

"Rich and rare were the gems she wore..." from "Rich and Rare Were the Gems She Wore" by Thomas Moore

"Thy beauty! ah, the eyes that pierce him thro'..." from "To the Liaunhan Shee" by Thomas Boyd

"I send you a cream-white rosebud / With a flush on its petal tips..." from "A White Rose" by John Boyle O'Reilly

"Onward to the glen below; / Every nook and turn we know..." from "Song" (from Six Days) by Stopford Brooke