It came to his waist, and covered his legs. He washed over and over, even dunking his head, making sure that the stink of death was gone. Then he washed his clothes and the bones he'd brought with him.It wasn't until he stood up to let the wind dry him, that he realized he had nothing to put on except what he'd taken off. On the trail it wouldn't have mattered. He'd have just walked naked back to camp, letting the air dry him, and put on clean clothes. He sighed. Getting the wet pants on was a lot of work. He left the shirt off and carried his boots in one hand, the bones and horseshoe in the other.Bella was fussing over the cast iron pot sitting on the edge of the fire when he arrived at the campsite. She looked up. Even in the weak light of the fire he could see her blush."I'm really sorry," he said."You look a sight," she muttered. "I suppose you bathed in your clothes." No," he said, confused. "I just didn't have anything else to put on." Your planning skills leave somewhat to be. ” She nodded, knowingly. So, again, she lowered her lips to nearly touching my ear and whispered, “I’ll go sit in my chair and we can show each other.” I nodded and she sat down, I don’t remember what happened to the Coke. She sat down and we turned toward each other and spread our legs. Allison pulled her night shorts to one side and gave me the first live view of her pussy. I pulled my boner through the fly of my night shorts and held there for her hungry eyes. It wasn’t as large as the one she had watched on the webcam, but it was at least as hard. We both stared. I started a slow stroke and she started a slow rub and then I began to leak. As the pace picked up we said nothing, but Allison was beginning to be restricted by her shorts. She quickly lifted her butt off the chair and slid her shorts down past her knees. I did the same. We were down low in the seats, legs apart, knees almost touching. Allison rubbed her clit, then fingered her wet pussy, then her clit, again. We were in.
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