Microburst

As they drove off Aurora-ward MaryLiz put her arms around him again, buried her face in his neck just as she had under the bridge, muttered gently "Thank you for staying with me. That was completely, utterly atypical behavior on my part, Sir. Both being terrified, and being so aggressive. Bloody insistent I was, wasn't I? Don't know where it came from, really. But I want you to know that I enjoyed it all. Except for the terror, of course. Even the second installment under the bridge – NO! Not "even", that's not right – I should say "especially the second part" – the bit with my bum is what I mean. Absolutely first-class! Simply incredible!"

Worden tilted her face up so she could see him out of one eye, sideways. He replied softly "Glad you enjoyed yourself. Just one of my specialties. Thought you'd like it, and somehow it seemed appropriate. There were lots of strong sensations and stimuli floating about and I was worried that anything less strident might get lost in all the sturm und drang!" His hand slid down to her calf, then upwards beneath the wet fabric, cupped a knee, slid farther upwards between her thighs. She squirmed, adjusting to give him the needed room and access. The fingertip found the right spot, tickled gently,

She bit her lip again, then grinned at him and whispered "Specialties – plural?"

He nodded, raised one eyebrow comically.

She shivered briefly in a small series of mini-climaxes. When she made him stop, he said carefully and quietly "Would it be overly presumptuous of me to suggest a change in our sleeping arrangements for tonight? They could be overbooked at the Aurora, you know. Plus it's a desert for God's sake, and showering with a friend makes great sense ecologically."

MaryLiz hugged him and flushed brightly. "Not overly presumptuous at all, Sir. I was just beginning to wonder if you were EVER going to ask, or if maybe I was going to have to lead for this dance! Agreed – if it isn't too presumptuous in return to demand a sampler of your so-called "other" specialties – whatever they are!"

Worden grinned happily at her. "Not presumptuous in any direction. Done deal." With that he kissed her, hard and long.

Up front, the old man was still occupied with the others, but shot a glance into his mirror, saw the clinch, grinned to himself. He understood. The rear-seat couple needed to get to the Aurora ASAP, needed it in the worst way. Or, perhaps, the best. As a good former Boy Scout, he should help however he could. He pressed the accelerator firmly, humming to himself, remembering a mid-battle interlude, an episode of assault with a friendly weapon, in a farmhouse in France during a war long ago and a whole world away.