AnasaziLassie Read online

  It was an established campsite though, so there was little in the way of shrubbery to conceal any slithery inhabitants. Midge preferred not to use the word “snake”. Saying it might attract one. She soooo didn’t like snakes.

  Satisfied that her little dwelling was secure, Midge stretched and looked skyward. Above her the stars were beginning to twinkle through the darkening heavens and the dying shades of sunset glimmered ever fainter on the horizon.

  Even though she was less than a hundred yards from civilization—as represented by the small residence established for the convenience of Tolikani visitors—Midge was out of sight of the low building and for all intents and purposes alone with the desert night.

  She breathed in, scenting the sharp tang of the air, unsullied by fumes or other modern scents. It was clean, almost abrasive as she exhaled, cooling rapidly now that the sun was gone.

  She was happy in a quietly euphoric kind of way—as if she’d come home to a place that healed her soul. Tiredly, she crawled into her tent and slid out of her shirt and pants, deciding to sleep in her practical cotton underwear rather than struggle with pajamas in her tight quarters.

  Resting her head, she closed her eyes.

  Only to find nothing happened.

  She was exhausted, but sleep was a long way away. She also felt grubby, even though she’d swirled some lukewarm soapy water over her face and hands in the tiny bathroom at the hostel.

  The distant rumble of thunder snagged her attention and she got out of her little quilted nest and peered from the tent to see the flicker of lightning high up on the mountain. It was surreal—like a light show on another planet.

  Midge watched for a few minutes then tilted her head as she heard the gentle ripple of water. Putting two and two together, she figured that the rain was coming down the mountain even though the storm wasn’t.

  Not far from the tent was a series of ledges and boulders, smoothed by time and—Midge now realized—water. The savvy travelers who had first camped here had done so with a reason.

  There was a lovely built-in shower system, complete with pool, mere steps away. And what could be more tempting to a weary and grubby archaeologist than a moonlight shower in the isolation of the desert?

  Ooooh. Yeah.

  Midge grabbed her shower gel, figured it could double for a shampoo and tucked a towel under her arm as she slipped her feet into that essential traveler’s accessory—the flip-flop.

  Within moments she was standing looking at something out of an impressionist painting. Water cascaded in silvery sheets from the highest ledge to crash into a shallow basin and trickle down over several more large flat boulders to a pool at the bottom of the little hill. The mountains were a shadowy backdrop, silhouetted against an inky sky now brilliant with stars.

  She stepped nearer, getting her bearings, checking for solid footings or loose gravel and broken rocks. The moon was rising, full and brilliant and giving her more than enough light to see what she needed to see—a shower, created by nature, ready made for weary travelers to refresh themselves.

  Exactly what Midge intended to do. She glanced around, making sure that all was quiet. There was a glow from behind the small ridge where the others were tucked up in the hostel. But for the rest of her surroundings—well, there was pretty much a whole lot of nothing. The absolute darkness of nothing. No streetlights, no houses, no distant towns—it was a blackness that people in the past knew well and people of today seldom experienced.

  A blackness that helped Midge understand why so many early cultures had feared the night. It wasn’t just the loss of the sun, it was the total lack of any other kind of illumination. At least she had a full moon. What must it be like where there was no softly glowing disk in the sky? When clouds scudded over the stars? It would be a heavy darkness that could easily give rise to legends of terror and fear. A blindness that only the flames of a fire could drive back—and even then, the shadows would lurk at the edges of the camp.

  Midge shook off the introspective mood and daringly stripped. This wasn’t like her, modest type that she was, but somehow in this place—these surroundings—the trappings of civilization were unnecessary.

  Grabbing her plastic bottle and tugging the elastic band from her hair, Midge stepped cautiously under the makeshift shower.

  And sighed with delight. The water was warm.

  How and why she didn’t actually care. It was simply an unbelievable pleasure to stand naked in the desert and allow nature to provide the spa facilities.

  Cascades of runoff poured down onto her head and shoulders and for a few moments Midge just let it, savoring the gentle massage provided by the pounding stream. Then she reached for her soap and poured out a good amount, lathering herself enthusiastically and loving the whole sensual experience.

  The stone upon which she stood still held the remnants of the day’s warmth, kind of like standing on heated tiles. It was sybaritic, decidedly decadent, enormously pleasurable and the highlight of Midge’s month. Probably, she thought to herself as she scrubbed her belly, the highlight of her year.

  It certainly made the long bus trip worthwhile.

  Of course, to be very honest, Web Jones had done that.

  The time they’d spent together on the bus, their conversation—oh yeah. He’d made her millennium.

  So it had been a bit embarrassing to wake from a rather erotic dream of him and find him staring at her.

  But she’d gotten to return the favor when he’d dozed off, only to mumble some obscure Anasazi word and grab his crotch.

  God forgive her, she’d giggled. But he did have one extraordinarily fine bulge beneath those nice hands. It must have been as erotic a dream as hers had been. The expression in his eyes—the heat—the lust—

  An image of his face flickered up into her mind at the precise moment her hands slid below her belly to her crotch and her pussy lips, the combined assault on her senses sending an instant shot of arousal through her body. Her buttocks tightened, her breasts suddenly felt every drip of water that trickled over their nipples and her heart began to thud with a rhythm attuned to the needs of her cunt.

  She froze, water still running over her body, sluicing the lather from her skin and hair. Her hands remained between her legs as she explored the new feelings within her. Midge was no stranger to the art of self-satisfaction. Masturbation most often occurred in the privacy of her own bedroom—a matter kept between her and her pink vibrator.

  She didn’t have one of those pulsating showerheads and most mornings had neither the time nor the urge to bring herself to climax before a long day at the college. So being naked in the wilderness, under a natural showerhead with her hands at her pussy, was—for Midge—unusual. To say the least.

  It was also amazingly, incredibly erotic.

  Midge relaxed into the moment, opening herself for once to the possibilities of her body and her own touch. She widened her stance on the rock, settling herself comfortably beneath the water, leaning back so that the brunt of the stream fell across her nipples.

  Stimulating and exciting, she moved her hips—a slow swivel accompanied by the caress of her fingers against her clit. The fanciful notion came to her that she was dancing…a sensual tango of water-driven desire…a ballet of body and hands and sex…

  The thundering of her blood in her ears provided the drumbeat for her movements and the soft rippling of the waters sang a melody only nature could transcribe. She felt at one with her surroundings—as if the act of pleasure was simply a part of this land, this place, this time.

  The moon had shifted slightly, its rays now catching the spray from the water and turning the droplets to rainbows and silver—a fairy-like display of incredible beauty that enhanced the night sky and kissed Midge’s skin with magic.

  Her hands found places that yearned, her fingers fulfilled that yearning. Sliding one hand to her breasts, she cupped them each in turn, squeezing and kneading the globes, toying with the hard peaks, squeezing until the pleasur
e was barely a breath away from pain. She was woman—feminine, curved, slick with water and the soft velvet of her own skin.

  She was acting out the fundamental principle of life. Doing something that had been done for untold generations by uncounted numbers of her ancestors. She was at one with the night and with the essence of life, slowly bringing herself to an orgasm that would echo so many orgasms before—probably some in this very spot under a similar stream of warm liquid.

  The gods of the mountains had shed tears of desire, letting them meander down steep slopes so that she could take them into her body and—come.

  Perhaps they were watching. Midge closed her eyes and tipped her head back, arching her spine and thrusting her breasts and hips forward into the water. Let them watch. Let the gods enjoy what she herself was enjoying.

  She played with her body, teasing herself to a peak then pausing, waiting endless agonizing moments before returning to repeat the process. It increased her arousal, drove all thoughts from her mind and turned her focus inward and down to that small spot that now swelled from beneath its hood.

  “Oh dear God…” She sighed out the words almost without volition as a particularly strong shudder rocked her from toes to eyebrows. She was close—so close—she could almost taste her orgasm in the back of her throat.

  She wasn’t the only one.

  * * * * *

  Sleep was impossible. He’d tried thinking about his novel. Nothing. Not a teeny iota of inspiration.

  He’d tried letting his mind float and his body relax, the way all the books said was guaranteed to induce sleep. Again—nothing.

  Web had thumped his pillow, tossed and turned on his uncomfortably tiny cot and cursed himself luridly for not having the forethought to bring a tent.

  She had. Miss There’s-something-about-her-that’s-getting-to-me Midge had brought a tent for herself. She was probably tucked up in a sleeping bag inside it right now. Or perhaps she wasn’t. Maybe she was lonely. Maybe she was scared…like if she’d heard a coyote or something.

  Did they have coyotes out here? Duh, of course they did. They ate…um…those things that popped their heads up out of the ground.

  Aaaargh.

  Web cursed once more and gave up trying to sleep. Shawna, their driver and the few visitors from other archaeological digs had merged into one beer-guzzling, giggling group which held no attraction for Web at all, Shawna’s best seductive efforts notwithstanding.

  She’d brushed her breasts against him, flashed him her thong twice and made it quite clear she’d fuck him at the drop of a pickaxe.

  Unfortunately, Web wasn’t sure exactly where in the line to fuck Shawna that offer put him—before the bus driver? Maybe after the driver and before the other dig-leader? He hoped it was at least ahead of the graduate students. Wherever it was, he knew for sure he didn’t want to be there.

  He did, when he allowed himself to admit the truth, know exactly where he wanted to be and who he would’ve liked very much to be invited to fuck. And she wasn’t in the hostel at all, but in a largish pup tent that would hold two at a squeeze.

  They could squeeze. He’d like to squeeze.

  He’d like to squeeze her full breasts and have her thighs squeeze him as he slipped between them to find her pussy with his cock and plunder her carefully hidden treasure.

  She’d made him horny just by being herself and that was a rarity in Web’s book. Having a hot dream while dozing right fucking next to her was about the most embarrassing thing he could remember doing in a long time.

  Web shook his head. It had been a close call. Two more seconds and he’d have come in his pants, thus totally destroying any hopes he’d ever cherished of coming inside hers.

  He decided to surrender to the inevitable and go find her. If she told him to get lost, so be it. At least he could look himself in the mirror and say he’d tried.

  What he found when he’d crept as silently as he could over the small ridge between the hostel and her campsite—well, it had taken his breath away. He wasn’t actually sure he’d gotten it back. He might well be dead and peeking into paradise, because what he was watching pretty clearly defined what he imagined paradise to be. And then some.

  His Midge was naked in the moonlight.

  His Midge was wet, standing in a shimmer of water droplets with foam at her feet like some Renaissance painting of the birth of one of the Goddesses or other. Right at this moment he couldn’t remember who. Or whom. Or whatever.

  All his brain cells could come up with was the same phrase, over and over again—holy fucking shit!

  His Midge was touching herself, playing herself with the pleasure and skill of a virtuoso on an expensive cello. Her head was tipped backward, throwing the line of her throat and neck into the moonlight. It was a slash of white skin that gleamed silver as she moved and swallowed, a lick of brilliance that steered his gaze further down to her breasts.

  Magnificently female, her full breasts swayed and lifted as she shuddered, nipples hard suckable niblets that made his mouth water just by looking at them. She moved every now and again, sighing loudly as the water pounded those peaks, tremors sending crystalline mists of droplets into the night.

  Oh my fucking God, what I wouldn’t give to…

  Web’s hands were undoing his shirt even as his brain struggled to process the thought. She was Earthmother, Woman-Goddess, the essential essence of half the life on this planet.

  He was the other half and his cock was about to kill him or explode. He didn’t want either to happen until he’d done exactly what nature had designed him to do—satisfy his mate.

  Buttons popped unnoticed, zips ripped apart, pants were tossed carelessly away and shoes kicked God-knew-where. All Web could see was her—all Web could think of was her—all he wanted to do…was her.

  She hadn’t heard him, didn’t know he was there and coming closer to her shower. Certainly had no clue he was naked and as hard as he’d been in quite some time. His cock thrust proudly in front of him, pointing the way to heaven and Midge.

  The moonlight trembled on the swollen head, turning the little drip of desire to a diamond as he walked, heading down to where the object of his lust still thrust her own hand through her pussy lips and panted in time with her movements.

  He could smell her, almost taste her already and his own heartbeat accelerated at the mere thought of sinking into her heat.

  Carefully he moved behind her, not wanting to startle her any more than was inevitable. She wasn’t expecting a nude man to join her. And yet—wasn’t that exactly what she needed?

  She moaned and Web slipped through the water behind her, placing his hand over hers as she ground her fingers into her pussy. “Yeah, Midge. Oh God yeah. You are so beautiful.”

  She jerked as he pressed himself against her back. “Jesus Christ. Web?” Her pulse fluttered wildly through her entire body as she froze.

  “The same. I’m here. Don’t stop. Let’s take this ride together, baby.” He pushed her hand away and delved into her swollen and soaking folds. “Oh wow, you are so fucking hot. So fucking beautiful and naked and hot…”

  “I…I…you…we…oh God…” She gasped, but Web noted she didn’t pull away. In fact he felt her ass as she tentatively rubbed against his cock.

  “I know.” He pulled her hard, forcing her back into his chest. “Lift up a bit.” He bent his knees and slid his cock between her thighs, through the wetness and slick heat she was producing. “Ahhh, shit that’s good. Almost as good as being inside you.” He rubbed his cock against her pussy lips, thrusting his hips in time with the movements of his fingers against her clit. “I want to be inside you, Midge. I want to fuck you so bad I’m dying with it. When I saw you—watched you—”

  “You…you watched me?” Her body trembled, but she didn’t sound outraged. It was more a kind of leashed excitement.

  “Yes. I watched you. I watched you touch these breasts…” He fondled the full weights, sliding his hand from one to the other
, loving the heat of them as he let them rest in his palm. “I watched you as you played with your nipples…like this…”

  Web teased and pinched the nubs, judging from Midge’s responses how far to go, how much sensual punishment to administer. She sighed and squirmed against him, but still made sure she kept his hand where it was.

  She was so responsive to everything he did, every place he touched—he was amazed at how in tune their bodies seemed to be.

  “I watched you touch your pussy. You found places that made you shiver. I want to feel those places.” He found her hand with his. “Show me, sweetheart. Show me where to touch you. Put my hand where you want it.”

  “I…” She hesitated.

  He dipped his head and kissed her shoulder, letting his tongue trail a line of warmth from the top of her arm to the dip where her neck rose whitely beneath her tumbled hair. “Do it for me, Midge. Enjoy me. Use me. Let me be your toy.” He nipped her softly then kissed the tiny pain away.

  “Okay…”

  It was a breath, no more, but Web heard it and his body pulsed with excitement. Tentatively her hand covered his and guided his fingers to her pussy. She showed him the places that brought her pleasure and the strokes that aroused her. She pushed him lower when her heat built, eventually parting her pussy lips herself and encouraging him to slip two fingers into her cunt.

  His cock was soaked with her hot honey, a blend of desire and mountain rainwater that mixed with his own arousal. He wanted to fuck her, to lose himself inside her for a week or two and then repeat the process ad infinitum.

  This time it was Web who moaned as her body clutched at him, hungry for his invasion. “I want you. I want to fuck you.”

  “Yessss…” She groaned out the word, forcing his fingers deep, thrusting her clit onto his wrist and grinding down.

  She was nearing her orgasm and Web wasn’t sure what to do about it. He wanted to be the one to bring her to the peak, but he wanted his cock inside her while it happened.