“You know a lot about Einstein?” I jabbed back.“I bet he were a right pain to live with,” she said. “Smartarses are.”“Am I a smartarse?” I asked, trying not to let it degenerate into an argument but wanting to stand up for myself.“No, no,” she said. “I'm sorry. But you don't laugh much, do you? Blokes usually think I'm funny. They laugh at things I say. Specially when they're trying to get in my knickers. You don't even react.”“Maybe I'm shy,” I said.“Pfft!” she scoffed. “Mind you, that would. As twilight developed, we returned to our tent, and crawled in. We slept in sweats, to ward off the chill Michigan camping in the fall could bring. Snuggled together, she whispered how much fun she was having, and how much she wanted to try this again, in the spring.We kissed goodnight, and I caressed her firm form affectionately. She wriggled like a puppy, and ran her hand down my shirtfront, and back up, beneath my sweatshirt, and against my skin. The coolness of her hand made me gasp, and. They said hi. She smiled, "Hi! Did you like her t-shirt?"The shorter of the two responded, "Oh yeah. It was cute." Yeah, I heard your comment about the talk-dirty to me box."He chuckled a bit, but before he could respond, she said "Well, I got a question for you?" Oh yeah? What's that?" Well, even though I'm not a bride-to-be, would like to talk dirty to me?" she felt her face get flushed at her boldness.The 2 guys chuckled as they surrounded her and started grinding against her and whispering. The way her breasts, squashed against each other must have risen, and fallen as if keeping sensuous beat to the music she must have played. I thought of her in tight lycra shorts, and how I could have gone jogging, torn them off, and taken her on the beach - our combined bodies covered in nothing but sand. She was still excitedly talking, I realized, as I looked up again - zeroing in on her lips which were biting a sausage daintily now. My mind did cartwheels as her little front teeth bit into.
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