He stopped for a moment, making sure I could breathe."This way?" Again that grin, and he thrust his hips against mine and made me moan in consent. I closed my eyes, much to stop thinking dirty thoughts, but also because it felt too much, too much sensation at one time. When I opened my eyes again it was dark around us — he had released his black hair from the knot on his head and now we were enclosed in velvety darkness. It helped, made me forget that we were in camp, with tents just a few feet away from my tent.He was everywhere. He touched my skin with tender gentleness, one place at a time, but it felt like he was everywhere. He had squeezed himself in between my legs and covered my upper body with his chest. Our lips were locked in a kiss, but his hands were drawing light circles on my skin — tracing my flesh from my eyes, cheeks and chin, down to my hips and thighs. He continued to coax sounds from my throat, some soft and high-pitched, others growling low like thunder. He kept. There was a woman standing there wearing a purple knee-length skirt and matching blouse. She had her brown hair tied up in a bun and she was wearing glasses. She looked about 37 years old. “Can I help you?” I asked. I was going to tell her I was expecting someone or just give her $5 for whatever charity she was collecting money for. “I’m Angela,” she said. “Oh.” I looked at her, kind of disappointed. It’s not that she wasn’t attractive, or, to put it bluntly, fuckable, it’s just that after watching so many movies, most of them pornographic, one starts to get a mental picture of what a prostitute looks like. Angela looked perfectly respectable. As soon as I thought that, I felt an immense shame, but I just pushed it aside because my loneliness was also welling up and threatening to consume me. I thought maybe I deserved to be alone. But Angela was already there, so I might as well make the most of it. I asked her to come in. She didn’t look at any of my things, not even my book.
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