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Message-ID: <36907asstr$1024654203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: anon584c@nyx.net (Uther Pendragon)
Reply-To: anon584c@nyx.net
Subject: {ASSM} [rom fest] "The Longest Light" {Pendragon} (rom Mf pett oral) [1/2]
Date: Fri, 21 Jun 2002 06:10:03 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, or otherwise forbidden by law to 
read electronically transmitted erotic material, please go do 
something else.

     This material is Copyright, 2002, Uther Pendragon.  All 
rights reserved.  I specifically grant the right of downloading 
and keeping ONE electronic copy for your personal reading so long 
as this notice is included.  Reposting requires previous 
permission.

     All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as 
public figures in the background, are figments of my imagination 
and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly 
coincidental.

                        The Longest Light
                       by  Uther Pendragon
                        anon584c.nyx.net



"Lauren, I just don't like the idea of your going off for the 
night to celebrate a pagan holiday."

"But Mom ..."  She only had to keep talking until Samantha showed 
up.  

"Don't 'But, Mom,' me."

"Mother," said Lauren, swallowing the "but."  "You *said* that I 
could go.  It's Samantha, for goodness sakes.  The boys would 
laugh themselves silly if we chickened out now.  They camp there 
all the turnings of the year.  They do it on the *winter* 
solstice.

"It's still awfully cold up there."  

"We'll have one of those 'space blanket' things, and a tent.  
Wrap a person tight in a space blanket, and they'll burn to death 
from their own body heat."

"Who told you that?"

"Dunno.  Hal or Sam.  I'm sure that they didn't try for 
themselves, but Lance and Hal went up there in the middle of 
December.  Remember the cold snap?  They've done it for years.  
Their parents trusted them to look after each other when Lance 
was maybe ten.  Why do boys get to do things, and girls don't?"  
Mom was a feminist when it suited her.

Her mother's look meant that she knew what game Lauren was 
playing.  "Well, I never said that you couldn't.  I just said 
that it was silly.  And sounds pagan, too."

"It isn't pagan.  It's astronomical.  It's just that people knew 
those simple facts long before Christianity.  If you want pagan, 
look at Easter eggs.  The solstice happens to be an important 
date of the solar year."

The discussion (her mother insisted that they didn't have 
arguments) ended as Lauren knew it would.  Sam honked for her in 
the driveway.  Lauren shoved her sleeping bag and other 
necessities in the back seat of Sam's shocking pink Suburban and 
climbed into the front seat beside her.  They were off.  The boys 
in their jeep, with the spaceblanket and tent, turned in behind 
them when they got to the expressway.  

"I'm really grateful to you for covering for me," Sam began.  She 
was watching the car ahead, but knew this part of the route.  

"Hey!  What are friends for?"  Lauren answered.  She was glad to 
cover for her friend, but she was looking forward to the time 
with Harold as well.  "A little nervous?"

"Naw!  Not a little nervous.  Absolutely petrified, maybe.  
Actually, all this worry -- about my mother's finding out or your 
mother's pulling the plug -- saves me from worrying about the 
main event."  

After a pause, Samantha laughed.

"What's so funny?" Lauren asked.  At least, Sam was coming out of 
her funk.  Lauren's first time was going to be fun, and she would 
damn-well wait until it would be.  Would it be with Harold?  She 
couldn't picture anyone else, but he wasn't her first boyfriend.  
Nor was she Hal's first girlfriend by a long shot; he was in 
college and an experienced man, however often she called him a 
boy to her mother.  Was Hal willing to wait until it would be fun 
for her?

"Remember a few years ago?  Seen any little kids recently?  the 
reason they really envy adults is that adults get to stay up 
instead of going to bed."

They shared the laugh.

When they got to the turnoff into the park, Sam got out, Lauren 
scooted into the driver's seat, Hal got in.  Sam walked back to 
Hal's jeep.  "The things you'll do for a friend, hey?" Hal said.

"And you'll do for a brother."  She watched the road ahead as the 
car bumped along.

"Yeah, spending an entire evening with a pretty girl when I could 
be home studying thermo.  But no sacrifice is too great for my 
brother's happiness."  

"It's no real sacrifice to spend the time with a handsome man, 
either."  Harold wasn't really handsome; but one compliment 
deserved the other, she not being really pretty.  His face was 
definitely masculine, however, a little blocky, a few scars left 
over from acne, eyebrows like a hedge.  Although you could see 
the family resemblance, Lance had almost androgynous good looks.  

Harold definitely had the family hands, though.  Lance's were the 
envy of the orchestra, but Hal's fingers were several millimeters 
longer.  "Totally wasted on an engineer," she and Sam had agreed.  
Lauren was no longer so sure of that.  He had evoked some 
delightful feelings with those fingers.  There was more to life, 
not that she could tell Sam this, than music.

"Coming up," said Hal.  She saw the turn onto the rutted dirt 
road.  Soon, they had bumped as far as they could go.  The jeep 
stopped behind them and Lance and Sam got out.

Hal walked back and took a rope and some tools from the jeep.  
"Don't try the path until we get it roped up," he said.  
Honestly, you would think that she and Sam were tourists.  Still, 
she waited in the car.  First day of summer or not, it was chilly 
out there.

Working together, Lance and Hal hammered pitons into the rock 
beside the path.  Then they tied a rope to the pitons as a 
handrail.  They sometimes held on to the rope when they took the 
tent and spaceblanket up.

When the boys were near the vehicles at the end of their descent, 
Lauren got out of the car.  She pulled her sleeping bag and bag 
of essential/just-in-case supplies out of the back seat.  "Let me 
take that," said Lance.  Hal was getting his own things out of 
the jeep.  

"I can carry my own stuff," Lauren said.  Lance yielded the 
sleeping bag.  

"I'll carry this," he said, raising the bag.  "You'll need one 
hand free for the rope."

"You guys take the description, 'Sherpas,' too seriously."  Still 
she put the sleeping bag over her left shoulder and trudged 
ahead.  Hal was next, carrying only his sleeping bag.  Either he 
hadn't brought anything, or it was all stuffed in the bottom of 
his bag.  He let her go first.  Lance was last.

Lauren gasped when she got to the top of the rise.  The place was 
as grand as the boys had said.  She looked around in the light 
from the setting sun.  She saw a shallow bowl still filled with 
snow.  The tent set up against the far wall, facing East.  The 
only footprints were on the path leading to the tent.

Despite the sunlight, the air was chill around her.  She shivered 
once and took her sleeping bag over to the tent.  Hal tossed his 
sleeping bag in the tent on top of the spread-out space blanket.  
He took her bag of material from Lance and laid it down on the 
blanket as if he thought something could break.

"We generally designate the space west of the tent as the 
latrine," Hal said.  

"Make sure he's inside the tent when you use it," Lance 
suggested.  Hal gave him a dirty look.  If Hal was that eager to 
see her with her pants down, he didn't need to sneak; but she 
wasn't going to tell Lance that.

She crawled into the tent to arrange things while Hal walked 
Lance back to the descending path.  "Well," he said when he came 
back, "they're off."

"That's good," she said.  Then she couldn't think of anything 
more to say.  She had been alone with Hal many previous time, but 
never quite so alone as this.  They were going to sleep in the 
same tent all night; there probably wouldn't be another human 
within ten miles.  Maybe a park ranger, but nobody within one 
mile at most.

She walked out to admire the view.  After a bit, she started 
around the edges of the bowl.  Hal walked with her, but he didn't 
say a word.

"Watch out," he said after a while.  "The air is cold, but it's 
less protection than it is down below.  You'll burn before you 
know it."

Actually, she had known that.  Still, she did need to be 
reminded; and it was nice of him to worry about her.  "Thanks."

"We usually spend our time in the shade of the tent -- in the 
summers."  

She crawled into the tent and lay on top of her sleeping bag.  
Hall came in after her, lay on top of his bag, and pulled the 
spaceblanket over her, leaving lots of room for the cool air to 
circulate.  The only bit of himself he covered were his heavily-
booted feet.

"Thanks."

"You are quite..." Hal said.  Then he kissed her nose.  
"Welcome."

She held his head to give him a kiss on the lips.  He, for a 
wonder, kept his tongue inside his own mouth.  "Do you think that 
they are getting along okay?" she asked.  She couldn't get Sam 
and Lance out of her mind.

"I think they're okay.  They're probably not getting very far 
along, though.  I doubt that they've reached the motel yet.

"Look," he continued, "let's leave the lovebirds to run their own 
lives for now.  We've done what they wanted, and there is nothing 
we can do to help from here.  I don't really think that they 
would appreciate our picturing their night together."

"That wasn't what I meant!"  Not that she had avoided picturing 
this night in the past, but she wasn't about to start when Hal 
was right here beside her.

"Your picturing them is no problem.  They might not like it, but 
they'll never know.  My picturing them is no problem, likewise.  
Our discussing them might well be a problem."

"You have a dirty mind.  I was worrying about my friends."  Not 
that her earlier thoughts hadn't been as dirty as he implied.  
Just that the thoughts which prompted her comment were utterly 
clean.

"Well, I'm not sure that worrying about them is going to help.  
We're here; they're there.  We won't know about any problems 
unless someone comes storming up the trail asking what you think 
you're doing."

"Do you think We'll be found out?"  That was something else to 
worry about.

"I don't see how.  As Lance pointed out, my father hasn't come up 
here to make sure that we are all right for years.  If he does, 
I'll tell him that Lance is asleep."

"Lance reassured you?" she asked.

"I said that I was nervous about the camping here.  All Lance 
could think about was his getting caught."

"You were nervous about spending time with me?"  Not, she'd bet, 
as nervous as she was about spending the time with him.

"More about what happens after.  I'm going to enjoy tonight, but 
not at the expense of it's being our last date.  Anyway, Lance is 
always the sensitive violinist family with his head in the 
clouds.  I play the pragmatist with dirt on my hands.  Lance, 
however, can be a self-centered pig without half trying."

"I wouldn't say that he has his head in the clouds."  About his 
being self-centered, Hal didn't have anything to tell a member of 
the orchestra.  "Anyway, you went out of your way to help him 
tonight."

"We get along fairly well.  I certainly wish him the best.  
Everybody is so sure that Sam can follow him to Eastman."

"She should be able to.  She's a really good student, and every 
bit as good a musician as he is.  Already, as a junior, she was 
probably the best viola in the state of Colorado.  A year from 
now, she'll be better than he is now."

"And you?  Are you going to go off to Rochester and leave me?"

"Thanks.  I've told you before.  I'm the third best flautist in 
the orchestra, a high-school orchestra.  I'll be lucky to play 
after next year.  I get to turn a lot of pages as it is."

"Well, you'll have to get by on looks, then."

"Thanks."  Her looks were as average as her flute playing, 
whatever Hal thought.  But being with a guy who thought her very 
pretty -- or at least said so -- was a bonus.

"You are ..." He leaned over to kiss her.  " ... welcome.  
Whatever the thanks were for."

She kissed him back.  This time, his tongue pressed between her 
lips.  His hand was cold on her breast, even through shirt and 
bra.  He moved it to her waist, where -- if it was no warmer -- 
at least she had fewer nerve endings.  When she broke the kiss, 
he kissed her eyebrows and forehead.

He leaned over her to kiss her ear and down the side of her face 
towards the neck.  She shivered.

"Cold?" he asked.  He tucked the spaceblanket around her more 
securely.  Then he pulled his side over his arm.

"Not really."  Really, it was the touch of his lips which made 
her shiver.  He stroked her side.  Then he held her butt through 
the jeans.  The kiss went on and on, and she got hotter and 
hotter.

When he broke the kiss, she rolled over onto her back.  This 
time, when he held her breast his hand was nice and warm.  The 
feeling was so exciting otherwise, that she wouldn't have 
complained even if it had chilled her.

He unbuttoned the top button on her shirt and kissed her there.  
He slowly bared her, keeping the kisses coming all the time.  
When he reached her navel, he stuck his tongue in there.  She 
pushed him away, laughing.

"You're silly," she said.

"You're luscious.  Good tasting, good enough to eat."

She sat up, pulled off the shirt, and removed the bra.  He kissed 
her mouth again, his tongue touched hers, and -- then -- the roof 
of her mouth.  His hand came back to her breast.  He held it for 
a minute, and then took her nipple between his thumb and one of 
his fingers.  She shivered.

"Are you cold?  Should you get in the sleeping bag?"  She wasn't 
shivering from the cold, but the sleeping bag was a good idea.  
She opened it up, got inside, and then covered herself.  She was 
careful to leave it unzipped; she didn't want his hand kept out.

He kissed her, starting with her mouth.  Then he pushed his head 
inside the sleeping bag and kissed her down to her breasts.  
Finally, he tongued and licked her nipples.  She shivered even 
more and held his head where it was needed.

When she let go, he continued downward.  He kissed the undersides 
of her breasts for the longest time.  Then he returned to her 
nipple.

He ran his fingernails over her jean-clad thigh.  She widened her 
legs and he repeated the caress.  Then he moved that hand to her 
other breast.  He held it, but kept one finger free to tease her 
nipple.  He lifted his head.

"Do you want help removing those jeans?" he asked.  They were far 
from her tightest pair, but a little help would be appreciated.  
He was careful to tug her panties upwards when he removed the 
jeans.  This time, her shivers were for the cold air.  She 
burrowed to the bottom of the sleeping bag, not even leaving her 
head outside the tent.  

Looking out, she saw that there were no shadows left.  The sun 
had set, even though the sky was still light.  Hal moved further 
into the tent so that he was even with her.  He took her face in 
his two hands -- one was still cold --  and kissed her.  He 
kissed down to her breast again.

His hand tickled the inside of her thighs.  Then he cupped her 
mound.  His fingers rested across the slight covering of her 
panties from those lips that they had so often brought so much 
pleasure.  It was time, she thought, for them to bring that 
pleasure again.

Perhaps reading her thoughts, he brought both of his hands to the 
waistband of her panties.  She raised her hips to allow him to 
pull them down.  He kissed her mouth lightly before leaning 
across her to suck on her left nipple.  His hand returned to her 
mound.

This time, there was no cloth interfering.  He stroked the edges 
of the outer labia.  Delightful at first, this soon became 
inadequate.  She raised her knees and spread her legs to give him 
access.  He combed his fingers through the hair on her mound 
before continuing down.  He parted the outer lips with two 
fingers and passed another within.  

Soon, he was tonguing her right nipple while tickling her 
clitoris.  She felt herself climbing the slope.  "Hal loves 
Lauren," he said.  Then he returned to her breast.  She 
tightened.  When he started sucking, she tightened still more.  

Then a fire burned through her.  She felt herself rise around his 
finger.  She tensed.  For minutes, maybe years, she was all 
tension while the fire flared. 

Then she collapsed.  His mouth left her breast.  His hand left 
her crotch.  

"Oh, Lauren," he said in a whisper.  "Beautiful Lauren."  He put 
his arm around her and kissed her shoulder.  He kept far away 
from all the parts which were -- now -- so sensitive.  She moved 
her own arm to push up the sleeping bag; its touch hurt her 
nipples.

He moved away for a minute.  He sat up and stripped off his own 
shirt and teeshirt.  When he hugged her again, his skin was warm 
against her arm.

Slowly, she came back.  She was in a tent, a tent in the middle 
of beautiful scenery.  She was in Hal's arms.  She loved him 
deeply.  She turned her head, and he moved his kisses over to her 
face.  She moved her mouth under his.  He kissed her, lightly on 
the lips, then deeply.  Their tongues met.  She had to move back 
to breathe.

"Oh Lauren," he said.  "I do love you."  She loved him, too.  But 
she needed the breath too much to say so.  She smoothed her hand 
down his arm to his hand.  They held hands while she recovered 
her breath and her strength.

This time, his kiss was brief.  She could breathe evenly when his 
mouth left hers.  He kissed all over her left breast before 
finally reaching the nipple.  He licked it and sucked as much 
breast as possible into his mouth.

He caressed her thigh and then her labia.  He kissed down the 
underside of her breast.  She knew where he was going, and she 
knew he would never fit.  Her own feet were pressed against the 
bottom of the bag.

"Second," she said.  She pushed herself upwards in the bag and 
out.  The tent entrance was slanted, like all the sides were.  
She looked right up to the sky.  It was a deep blue, a royal 
blue, not black yet, but much deeper in color than it had been 
when the sun was up.

His head obscured the sky.  He kissed her nose, then his tongue 
entered her mouth as his hand passed again between her thighs.  
She relaxed -- no need to move any more, just lie here and accept 
all these sensations.

He kissed her ear, then her neck.  His finger stroked up her 
cleft almost to her clitoris.  He kissed down to her left breast 
and up her breast to the nipple.  He stroked her clitoris as he 
sucked hard on her nipple.  "Oh," she said.  As far as she was 
concerned, he could repeat those sensations forever.  While his 
lips were on her left breast, his chest hair was tickling the 
right one.

His mouth went from one breast to the other.  He kissed every 
inch of skin that he passed.  He kissed up to the top of her 
right breast.  Again, he touched the clitoris just as he sucked 
on the nipple.  

He kissed a slow path lower, alternately nipping her with his 
lips and licking her skin.  He passed from the bottoms of her 
breast to her ribs, and then to her belly.  His tongue tickled 
her navel again, but she didn't say anything.  He raised up, 
taking the top of the sleeping bag with him.  The cool air 
reached her nipples which were wet and quite sensitive right 
then.  She shivered.

He climbed into her bag and between her legs.  He lowered himself 
to lie over her.  She carefully pulled the edges of the bag and 
the spaceblanket over his shoulders as the heat of his body 
warmed hers.  He started on her forehead and kissed all over her 
face.  When he reached her mouth, his hands cupped her breasts.  
His thumbs caressed both nipples at once.

His line of kisses down to her breasts was much faster than he'd 
done before.  When he got to her left nipple, his hand went to 
her mound.  He jumped over to her other nipple, and then sucked 
there for only a minute.  She held his head as he kept kissing 
lower.  For once, he avoided her navel.

He pressed gently on her legs as he reached her pubic patch.  She 
spread them.  His kisses jumped from her belly to right above her 
knee.  He kissed a string up one leg and then jumped over to the 
other.  By the time his lips met her lower ones, she couldn't 
keep from writhing.

"Lovely," he said with a loud sniff.  Then he parted her lips 
with his thumbs.  She strained to stretch her legs as far apart 
as possible.  Then he struck.

His tongue licked the edge of her inner lips from one end to 
another.  He parted them with tongue pressure alone and lapped 
around her hole.  He adjusted his position, and she adjusted 
hers.  He raised his hands until they were covering her breasts.  
All the time, he was licking her groove.

The one place his tongue didn't touch was her clitoris.  He would 
teasingly lick upward until he was near, and then withdraw his 
tongue.  He would lick on either side of it.  He would *not* 
touch it.  She grew more and more anxious.

Finally, he did touch it.  He pinched both nipples at precisely 
the same time.  The combination of pain and pleasure nearly drove 
her mad.  She felt heat radiating from those three centers of 
sensation.  Every time he licked across her clitoris again, the 
feeling of heat grew and she stiffened.  The heat concentrated in 
the pit of her stomach.  It became a ball of fire rotating there.

When he  sucked her clitoris, the fire exploded in her.  She 
gasped something.  The sensations went on and on.  She relaxed as 
they left her.  Hal was covering her with his body, supporting 
himself on hands and knees so that he didn't press so hard.

When she recovered her breath, she kissed him.  "I love you, 
Lauren," he said.

"I love you too.  She hugged him with her arms which could feel 
his smooth skin.  She hugged him with her legs which pressed 
against the rough cloth of his jeans.  She even caressed his legs 
with her feet, which could only feel the tops of his boots.

When he moved back to his own sleeping bag, she continued the 
caresses.  She stroked his chest, concentrating on his nipples.  
These were tiny, compared to hers; but they were as hard as hers 
ever were.  She played with the mat of hair, running her fingers 
through it.

She leaned over to kiss him.  His hands stroked her breasts.  
Hers stroked his stomach, poking him in the navel once.  She 
leaned farther over, offering him her breasts.  He 
enthusiastically sucked each.  

When she tugged at his belt, he opened his pants.  Then he pushed 
his trousers and shorts down almost to his knees.  His motions 
left all but his boots uncovered by the sleeping bag and the 
spaceblanket.  It was dark enough outside that almost no light 
came in to the tent.  Still, she could see the erection sticking 
out of his groin.  She combed her fingers through the hair just 
above it.  Teasingly, she stroked first one of his thighs then 
the other.

When she touched his tensed muscles, they were hard.  The skin, 
however, felt like part of them.  The skin on his phallus, 
however, felt like it was a loose, soft, covering for that 
hardness.  She always marveled at that.

She went further down to hold his testes.  "Oh yes," he said.    
"You have marvelous hands, Lauren.  Your touch is so soft."  He 
spread his legs, giving her free access.

When she clasped his phallus fully, he said, "Kiss me, Lauren."  
Kiss him there?  He kissed her, but did she want that in her 
mouth?  Did she want him to spurt in her mouth?

He took her face in both hands and drew it to his.  His tongue 
entered her mouth again.  He pushed her away far enough to say, 
"Keep going," then he renewed the kiss.

She started moving her hand back and forth along his phallus.  He 
tensed under her and pulled her mouth more tightly against his.

Very soon, she felt him gasp in her mouth.  He throbbed in her 
hand and her index finger has hit by warm stickiness.  

When his muscles suddenly relaxed, she stopped moving her hand 
and moved her head back from the kiss.  He was gasping there 
beneath her, his chest heaving against the light touch of her 
breast.  Finally, last of all, he softened in her hand.

His breath evened slowly.  Finally, he bent at the waist and 
rummaged around in the bottom of his sleeping bag.  He came up 
with a small roll of toilet paper and an empty plastic bag.  He 
tore off some sheets of the TP to hand to her.  "Sorry," he said.  
He dabbed at the stuff which had poured on him (and dripped down 
while he bent over to dig for the TP) while she wiped her hands.

He put both bits of the TP in the plastic bag.  The rule he 
followed, the rule she followed, was "take nothing away, leave 
nothing behind."

"I need more than this," he said.  He crawled out of the tent 
with his pants still around his ankles.  A few feet from the tent 
entrance, he scooped up some clean snow.  He rubbed it over his 
chest and belly.  She shivered in sympathy.  He pulled up his 
shorts, then his trousers.  

After he did the belt, he walked towards the west.  Soon she 
couldn't see him.  Leave it to a boy to put on his pants before 
going to the bathroom.  Suddenly, though, the sight reminded her.  
She put on her shirt, jeans, socks and shoes.  She didn't bother 
with underwear.  

When Hal got back, she visited the "latrine area" herself.  She 
took his roll of TP with her.  She knew that the night would have 
looked dark from her house.  With the mostly-full moon high in 
the sky, and no lights but the stars to compete with it, she felt 
totally exposed squatting there.  She watched the tent, but saw 
nothing which could be Hal's head.  After all, he'd satisfied his 
libido quite recently.

When she'd wiped herself, she didn't know what to do with the wet 
paper.  Throwing it away was against all the rules, but she 
couldn't bring it back to the plastic waste bag.  She dropped it 
in the snow and tramped it in.  She used her foot to cover the 
hole with snow.

"Cold?" Hal asked as she crawled into the tent.  He threw back 
the cover of his sleeping bag.  It was better than wearing her 
wet shoes in hers.  She snuggled up against him, and he covered 
them both up: first the top of his sleeping bag, then his part of 
the space blanket.

He hugged her.  Soon his hand was over her breast.  His clasp was 
warm through the shirt, erotic, but more comforting than 
arousing.  Occasionally he kissed the back of her head.  Slowly, 
she warmed up.

"You know," Hal said out of the blue, "if you *want* to kiss me 
there, nothing would make me happier.  "I'm not about to ask you 
to do it.  Least of all to demand that you do it."

She had forgotten all about that little misunderstanding.  "It 
did seem unlike you."  Let's make very clear, she thought,  that 
it's not in his nature to demand things like that.  I'm alone in 
a tent with a man much stronger than I am.  The nearest possible 
help is miles away.

"I want your love.  If I wanted merely your obedience, I could 
get it much more easily."  They had wrestled, one way to have 
contact when it was a little early in the relationship for the 
sort of contact they'd had this evening.  Hal had not only always 
won, he had always made it seem effortless.

Suddenly, she didn't like the direction the conversation was 
taking.  "It's too early to sleep," she said.  Besides that, she 
wasn't going to sleep in her shoes.  She sat up to take off her 
shoes and socks.

"Want a snack?"  What sort of snack had he brought with him?  He 
rummaged again in the bottom of the sleeping bag.  Was she 
supposed to eat something which had been in there with his boots?

He brought out a plastic bag containing two apples.  He was 
holding a package of baby wipes, too.  She'd had dinner, and 
didn't need more food.  Still, the air was thin up here; and she 
had had some exercise.  One apple couldn't hurt.  She used one of 
the wipes and handed it back to him.  Before putting it in the 
garbage sack, he wiped his hands with it, and then used it on his 
chest.

She ate the smaller apple, not that there was much difference.  
He ate the larger one.  When they were done, they shared another 
wipe.  She crawled into her sleeping bag, and they talked.  Soon 
he was asleep.  With nothing distracting her, she soon followed.  

The chill woke her.  First day of summer or not, it was *cold* up 
here.  She tried to pull the spaceblanket over her, but her edge 
would only cover about a third of her sleeping bag.  It wasn't 
enough.

"What's wrong?" Hal asked out of the dark.  Had she awakened him.

"I'm cold."

"You're welcome in here."  There were worse options; she liked 
snuggling with Hal.  She crawled into his bag, and pulled up the 
zipper.  He'd slept with it open and without a shirt.

He was warm, however -- warm and cuddly.  They were a tight fit.  
One of his arms stuck out, and the other wrapped her close.  She 
settled against him as his body heat gradually seeped into her.

The next time she woke, the sky was light again.  The sun was 
shining into the tent.  She blinked, but her worse problem was in 
her bladder.  She tried not to wake Hal while she unzipped the 
bag.  She struggled into socks and shoes, and headed out around 
the tent.  She was in bright light this time, although the tent 
obscured the sun.  She could actually see Hal's silhouette.  
Besides that, the wind had sprung up again.  An occasional 
dusting of snow struck her bare bottom.

Whatever her situation, she had to relieve herself.  She did, 
wiped, and dressed again.  She still wasn't wearing a bra or 
panties.

Hal left the tent as soon as she got back.  The wind came right 
in the entry.  She crawled into Hal's sleeping bag with her 
panties and bra.  Before she did anything else, she snuggled into 
the remaining warmth.  It didn't warm her as much without Hal as 
a furnace.

He got back before she could take the time to get properly 
dressed.  She didn't even think of refusing him the sleeping bag; 
it was his bag, after all, and he still wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Chilly," she complained as he snuggled against her.  This time, 
she was on the inside fold of the bag.  Hal reached out and 
pulled her bag, and then the spaceblanket, over them.  

"Wait a bit.  It'll heat right up."  

As it did, Hal started petting her.  "Is there only one thing you 
can think of?" she asked.  She needed to be properly dressed when 
Sam got there.  To say nothing of Lance.  Having Sam see her put 
on her bra after spending time with Hal would be embarrassing.  
Having Lance see her undressed would be awful.

"They can't get in the park before eight, under any 
circumstances.  And they, unlike us, won't have the sun shining 
in their eyes."  He was right, but he still only thought of one 
thing.  On the other hand, he did that thing rather well.  She 
relaxed and let him stroke her.

As his hand warmed, he pushed her shirt up.  He stroked her 
stomach as well as her breasts.  "You're bunching the shirt all 
up," she complained.

"Well, it's not going to look neat after a night camping out."

"Yes, but it's uncomfortable under my arms."

"Poor girl!  I bet I could figure out a solution."  He started 
unbuttoning it.  She finished the job, but kept the shirt there 
in the sleeping bag.  She wouldn't enjoy putting it on after it 
spent an hour in the cold.

Hal kissed her back while he petted her front.  Rubbing her 
hips across his groin, she felt his hardness against her.  He 
held both breasts and kissed the back of her neck.

When the excitement got too much, she turned around.  Obediently, 
Hal kissed her once on the shoulder and then ducked down.  He 
found her nipple, and kissed it.

"Oh, Lauren," he said.  He pushed her over on her back, keeping 
his lips on her neck.  He unzipped her jeans and pushed them 
down.  There were no panties to obstruct his hands.

He stroked her labia while kissing her breasts.  The light 
touches were just what she needed.  Then, they were insufficient. 
He reached her center and stroked her moisture up her groove 
toward her clitoris.  Long after she would have attacked this 
directly, he stroked around it, near it, but not over it.

Finally, when the frustration was almost as great as the 
arousal, he kissed her deeply on the mouth.  At the same time, he 
brought his finger directly across the top of her clitoris.  She 
spread her legs as much as she could with her jeans around her 
knees.  She pushed them down further and raised and spread her 
knees.

With his finger always moving in her groove, Hal licked her 
tongue and then her lips.  When she was panting, he abandoned her 
mouth for a return to her breasts.  Instead of some delicate 
trail, he moved directly to her nipple.  When he sucked it, he 
stroked her clitoris.

Flames shot through her.  She wasn't cold any more.  She felt 
from the top of her head to the soles of her feet, she felt the 
effects of that finger which really wasn't moving even an inch.  
The flame burst again and again.  She arched into his hand, but 
the sensation went on forever.

When it finally stopped, she collapsed.  She lay quietly in his 
arms.  Some time later, he woke her up.

"Lauren," he said, "it is nearly eight.  I don't know when Lance 
will get here, but we ought to be dressed and ready for them.  Do 
you think you could get up now?"

She could.  She did.  Somehow, asking Hal to turn his back while 
she put on her panties and bra seemed unnecessary.

The End
The Longest Light
Uther Pendragon
anon584c@nyx.net

The story of Samantha and Lance is told in "The Shortest Night."  
Neither story is necessary for the other, but you might want to 
read that one in conjunction with this one.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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