Page 23 of Javier

My boots grew roots and my legs refused to work. Used to racy numbers and erotic lingerie, I was shocked by my body’s reaction to her utilitarian undies. The blood rushed south to my crotch, awakening my dick.

What the fuck? I gave myself a mental kick in the ass.She’s not your type, remember, dumbass? Ignore your cock and use your head, you know, the one on top of your neck?

I noted the washcloth neatly unfolded on a rock. It held some toiletries, a small water bottle, a wet toothbrush, and a pack of wipes. Okay. All right. She hadn’t run. I urged my guts to unknot. She was doing the same thing I’d done, taking care of the hygiene department. Smart girl. I should leave her to do her thing.

I wasn’t a total asshole. I knew right from wrong. I also tended to choose the latter over the former with alarming frequency. I should move on and give her privacy, but the longer I stayed, the more I liked what I saw, the deeper my body sank into the landscape, and the more invisible I became.

She undid her bra and set it over the bushes, freeing her small breasts to the air. Taut nipples topped a pair of generous pink areolas.

“Succulent” was the word that came to mind. My dick yanked in my pants and my lips twitched with a need to suck on her gorgeous tits.Breasts, I corrected myself, as if renaming her beauties could somehow make me better than the horny peeping Tom I’d suddenly become.

She reached out and tugged a couple of wet wipes from the pack. Under the faint lights of the stars, her skin gleamed as she carefully scrubbed herself clean. She wiped her face first, and then ran the cloth behind her elfin ears, over her long, lovely neck, and across her delicate shoulders. She lifted one lithe arm at the time and swabbed her undersides, then rounded the wipesover her small breasts and slid it down.

If she asked, I’d gladly volunteer to finish the job.

She wiped down her legs and her feet next, balancing on one first, then the other, taking care to clean the spaces between her toes. I had to smile. She was meticulously clean. Setting the used wipes aside, she pulled out a new one from the little pack and dipped it beneath the band of her panties.

You’d think a woman washing her privates would be unsexy. Only it wasn’t. Because she was Missy. Everything she did was sexy without meaning to be so. Her actions were pure and innocent and still, my dick burned like the devil’s cock.

When she was done, she took another furtive look around. Rising to the tip of her toes, she looked over the overgrown bushes and the lake. She stood there, chewing on her lips, her forehead furrowed, her gaze fixed on the flat stone that rose next to the bushes. She looked troubled, pensive. She also looked guilty as hell and without cause.

Guilty was me, not her.

I drew my eyebrows together. What was she up to?

***

Missy

I’d gotten rid of the dirt clinging to me, but not of the pervasive tension torturing me, or the persistent thoughts that made me face off with a powerful need I’d never felt before. The tension in my core was driving me freaking insane.

Since Javier had begun making uninvited appearances in my dreams, my libido had been acting up. It had only gotten worse in the last twenty-four hours when he’d turned into a real flesh-and-blood man. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about sexy, scrumptious, gorgeous Javier?

I blamed the dreams. They were so vivid, so fresh in my mind, and they came with sensations and emotions that drew me to the real man, and made me want to recreate my dreamswith him. I blamed the scorching kisses we’d exchanged, too, and the passion that hummed between us. I’d never been kissed like that. I mean,wow.

Thank God the man had no idea of the effect he had on me. That would be freaking embarrassing, maybe even as embarrassing as fainting. The guy had come all the way out here to do a job. A mission. That’s what I was to him. He’d made that very clear.

He didn’t know the trouble he stirred inside me, or how wicked he made me feel. As often as I flushed beneath his stare—like every single time we made eye contact—he probably thought I suffered from permanent heatstroke.Whenever he looked at me, a new and pervasive heat bubbled within me, rising from my core, expanding to tighten the muscles inside that longed for his touch.

Don’t think about it, the prude in me warned. Don’t do it.

I had to stop fantasizing about him, but an insidious thought challenged my resolve.After three years with the nuns, after following their rules and living a chaste life for most of my time on this earth, wouldn’t it be amazing to let go of stuff like modesty, abstinence, and temperance, even if it was only for an hour or two? What would it be like to free the awful need, to unleash the passion I felt?

It had been easy being good and virtuous when I lived at the compound and I hadn’t had this striking species of maleness nearby to stoke my lust. Lust. That’s what this was. Right? I’d never felt it before, but what else could it be?

Now that Javier was around, shedding his pheromones to the four cardinal points and spiking my oxytocin levels to the max, controlling my lust was hard. I clenched everywhere, unable to block the images flaring in my head, a rerun of my lewd dreams. Standing there, wearing only my panties, feeling the caress of the breeze flowing over my body, a new surge ofheat enveloped me.

You thought it,the prude in me piped up.Now deal with it.

Was I wrong to feel this way?

Most women my age were into sex. They liked it. I wasn’t so different from them. Just because I’d isolated myself from the world didn’t mean I was less of a woman. Did it?

True, I’d never felt the pull of lust like this before, the sizzling need, but then again, in the last three years, I’d been busy fighting dengue and malaria, tending to mothers and babies, and teaching kids to read and write. Now I did feel the tug of Javier’s maleness, in the extreme. If I aimed to keep my wits, dignity, and my secret desires under wraps, I had to do something. My irreverent sister Affie would call it “taking care of business.”

Here?Prissy Missy was on a roll tonight. Now?

I wrung my hands. Masturbation wasn’t a sin. Was it?

---