I awoke to a damp chill that invaded the tent. Gently, I arranged my body so I would not awaken my love. Our limbs were intertwined, and our combined warmth kept the chill at bay. Her gentle regular breathing felt as much as heard, Assured me that she was still lost to sleep.
In the early morning dark, I wondered what awakened me. As my senses became attuned to our surroundings, Awareness grew to the changes that occurred while we slept. I was sure the cold had not awakened me, it only acted to heighten the sense of peace I felt, locked in the mutual warmth of our embrace.
Then I heard drops of water, their falling creating a pattern of sound. Sometimes individual drops, one or two at a time. Then would come a torrent. Had a storm moved in overnight? I didn't think so; yesterday had been warm, the coming day was to be just as warm.
In an instant, I knew the reason for the drops, the fog. The fog had crept in during the night to make its contribution. In my mind's eye, I could see the mist sifting through the trees. Giving a little of itself to the trees in passing. The trees collected the moisture into ever-growing drops, finally releasing them to fall to the ground.
Maybe the sound of the drops awakened me, or perhaps it was that sharp rock that had somehow found its way under my hip as we slept. I concentrated on keeping my breathing regular. I had no desire to move from my love's embrace. I wanted to do nothing that would disturb her peace.
Fully awake now, my mind drifted back to last night. How we had fallen asleep, our arms and legs akimbo, exhausted, our passion spent. Now, it amazed me that in our sleep, we found the most natural of all positions for our rest. My body forming a protective covering, hers providing for our mutual warmth.
I released my mind and senses to explore. I found the many points where our skin touched in our embrace. I felt the feather-soft touch of her hair on my face, the tickle of a few strands on my nose. I inhaled her aroma, unlike anything I had known before, or would ever discover elsewhere, uniquely her.
In my mind, I looked into her eyes; her laughter started there. When she was happy, her eyes sparkled as if the sky and all the stars were contained in them. When we joined in passion, they would open wide as if to say "oh," and as she reached the heights, her lids would rapidly flutter.
Her lips and her mouth were just as expressive as her eyes. The lips soft and gentle, giving kisses that would heal any hurt. Lips that could pout to get her way, but only in fun. The gentle kisses gave way in her passion to a mouth that would open, at once both inviting and with an ever-increasing hunger.
Her arms, currently wrapped around me in love, were strong and capable of accomplishing any task. Their specialty was hugging to lift the spirit. The gentle touch of her hands would always offer reassurance, and in holding her hand, I knew I would never be alone. There was no place safer than with her, hand in hand.
Her breasts, ah, her breasts. Currently pressed against me, they always seemed to welcome my caress. They were soft and offered comfort from all the trials of the world. Incredibly kissable, they responded to her passion.
Lying there, hip to hip, I remembered how sensual she was. She found great pleasure in her body and in using it to give pleasure. How she would open first to my caress and then to all of me. Reveling in the pleasure I gave and returning as much as she received.
Her legs carried her with stately grace. They seemed to be most often in use as she moved from place to place always looking to do something for someone else. They could, however, on occasion, be used to hold me close. Even her feet added to our intimacy. A special connection established with my giving a foot rub at the end of a hard day.
The early morning sun filtered through the tent. She moved in my arms. It quickly became apparent that we were both wide-awake. Her arms reached around my neck. Mine around her waist. Our lips joined. The rock forgotten, well almost.
Much later, we released each other to the world. We returned home later that day, the experiences held in our minds.
Days went by, and one evening we were changing, we had planned to go out for the evening. I noticed a small bruise on her hip, and pointed it out, she, in turn, pointed to a similar bruise on mine. I looked in her eyes and saw that twinkle, The memory of the rock flooded back, we laughed, we hugged, we embraced, we did not go out that evening.