His firm butt seemed purpose-built to be cupped in my hands. His hips begged for my legs to wrap around them. The small of his back sent shivers down my spine.

   A hunger grew in me, not for food, but for the simple act of sliding up against him, feeling our bodies glide over each other in silken delight. I shivered at the thought and found dewy moisture forming between my legs. My nipples tightened into buds that my tree would envy upon its branches. My tongue slid along my lips as my mouth suddenly went dry with need.

   He turned, spreading his t-shirt on the grass and piling the rest beside it. I saw, for the first time, the fundamental difference in our forms. There it was, nestled in a curling patch of coarse dark hair: his manhood. At the moment, it played c...

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