We had been planning this campout for weeks, the excitement building each day. Finally, vacation week was here, and I couldn't wait to have you to myself for a few days. We both decided that a cozy cabin in the mountains was exactly what we both needed
I quickly packed my bag as quickly as I could, pacing as I waited for you to pick me up. Finally, I see you pull up into the driveway as I step out the front door, bag in hand. It takes every ounce, and then some, of my willpower to not launch myself at you. Wrapping my arms around your neck, I stand on my toes to give you a kiss, saying, "Hiya, big boy." You poke me playfully in my side, making me giggle.
I sigh, not wanting to step out of your arms, but we must get the show on the road. "Let me grab my keys and purse, and we'll be on our way out of here, babe." I give you another light kiss on the lips, turning toward the house. "Hurry it up then," you say as you slap me on the ass. I shake my hips a little more than usual, pretending to be oblivious to the effect it has on you.
Before I step outside, I stop to admire you, knowing you were unaware of my staring. I felt the familiar hum between my legs as my eyes traveled up from your feet to that face that I adore. Today, you wore a pair of denim shorts that showed off your ass perfectly. My hands itched with wanting to grab you and press you against me. I loved the way your light blue t-shirt hugged you, not leaving much to my imagination. To finish it off, you wore, quite sensibly I might add, hiking boots. Not that you were going to need them. But they definitely helped my imagination.
Glancing down at your watch, you shout out, "Damn it, woman! It's 12:30. What's keeping you?" I didn't realize that I had taken so long. I hurried out the door, making sure it was locked. "Hey! Keep your boxers on, baby. I had to make sure everything was in order." You give me a cheeky grin as you climb into the driver side, telling me, "First of all, missy, they're boxer BRIEFS. And secondly, I'm not wearing any." I roll my eyes as I climb into the passenger seat, muttering, "Whatever. They're all the same to me."
You put the car in gear and head out of the city. "You know, they're not 'all the same' if you really pay attention..." you start. The last thing I needed was for you to go on about the differences in men's underwear, especially when I had a damn good mental image of you not in yours. I start fidgeting a bit as we merge onto the highway, hoping you didn't take notice of my slight discomfort. "Can we change the subject, please? This one's a little stale to me. I really don't much care about your underwear, okay?" I glance over your way.