Chapter 6

We found a suitable pitch easily enough, the site only gets really busy at the weekend. But it’s not level, not asphalt or concrete or even gravel. Just grass over a thin layer of soil, boulders or bedrock poking through here and there. No services, just taps there and there and a toilet and shower block.

After a late lunch, we weren’t hungry even though it was time for tea, so we took a stroll along the path by the lake. Her hand slipped into mine, and she glanced up at me. I smiled and squeezed her hand, and she beamed back. Then we needed to keep our eyes on where we were walking on the uneven path – uneven, and occasionally littered with sheep droppings.

“What do you want, Dora?”

“I can’t have what I want.”

“Why-ever not ... forget that. If you could have your dream, what would it be?”

She was silent for some time, and we walked through a large open area and entered some woods. “I would like ... a place at music college. Perhaps to learn to be a teacher, or even to be a professional musician. But most of all, I would like ... to love and to be loved. But I’m pregnant, and I won’t kill my baby, or give it up for adoption, and ... I was a prostitute for three years, Steve. What man would want me? To bring up another man’s child?”

I stopped and turned to face her, took her other hand. “Dora, I like you. I admire you, your strength, your talent, your determination to do right. And I really liked waking up with you in my arms. I don’t do casual sex. It has to mean something. It would have to be with someone who was willing to stay. Are you willing to stay?”

“You’d have to drive me away, Steve. I don’t want to leave. Ever. But Steve – a baby? – in this van?”

“I’ve maybe got a solution for that... if you’re serious. I know I’m ten years or so older than you, but ... will you be my girlfriend?”

There was a distinct hiatus while she processed that, then her face lit up. “You want to be my boyfriend? I’ve never had a boyfriend!”

“Abso...” but I didn’t get to finish, as she flung her arms round my neck and laid a scorching kiss on my lips. I think she was almost ready to be flung down on the leaf-mould, but when we broke the kiss, I took her hand to continue the walk. It was a little like walking a spaniel puppy. She was positively bouncing.

I had never met a girl like Dora. I won’t go into the ways she was different from Brooklynn; there’s just no comparison. Some might look at the surface and wonder, but they wouldn’t see the real difference, the important difference.

Back at the van, I insisted we had sandwiches. I anticipated bed sooner rather than later and doubted I would be willing to get up later. Dora washed up the few items we’d used and I dried them and put them away. I then began to turn the end of the van from two single beds, or long bench seats, into one large double bed.

Dora watched, clearly puzzled, even while I was putting a blanket over the whole thing before the bottom fitted sheet. Two pillows and the duvet from my eyrie.

“You still want to sleep with me?”

She nodded.

“And make love?”

She nodded again.

“My bed up there is rather cramped. There is room for two to lay down, as you found out, but not much room vertically.”

She nodded again, and, keeping her eyes fixed on mine, began to undress. I had half expected her to tear her clothes off in a hurry, but she did it very slowly and deliberately. My cock was almost painfully hard in my jeans by the time she was down to bra and panties, and she paused.

“You’re beautiful,” I said.

“Thank you. You’re overdressed.”

I undressed. Not slowly; no, not slowly at all. When I finished, she reached behind to unhook her bra and released a pair of the prettiest breasts I could imagine. Okay, I’d seen them before, but now? Very different situation. I stepped forward and palmed them, rubbery hard nipples scraping my hands. I gently squeezed those hard nipples and she gasped. She looked up, and our eyes met and locked. I reluctantly released those pretty titties, held her head in both hands and kissed her. It was, I can only say, the most intense and intimate experience of my life to that date – notwithstanding fondling her breasts – as our tongues tangled. Her arms round my neck, my hands migrated to her bottom. Her delightfully round, firm, feminine bottom, and slid under the waistband of her panties.

She broke the kiss. “Push them down, Steve.”

The action of doing that, as her panties hit the floor and she stepped out of them, placed my nose right by her ... clean shaved ... pussy. From whence emanated the most enticing aroma. “My God, Dora! You smell gorgeous!”

“Really?” She didn’t sound convinced.

As it happened, while I’d read about eating pussy – muff diving, cunnilingus, call it what you like – I’d never done it. Brooklynn thought it disgusting, and previous girlfriends (both of them) were very conventional. But despite it being a day since our morning showers, I dived in before Dora could protest. Her thighs did clamp against my head, though. Not really knowing what I was doing, I just had fun, exploring with my tongue, until I found her clitoris. I circled that as it peeked out from behind the hood, and alternated doing that with licking her labia, which were compact, the inner only exposed as she became aroused. I loved doing that; taste, scent, texture, all contributed to convincing me this was a Good Thing for both of us. Both of us because I could tell (despite the muffling effect of her thighs) from her gasps and whimpers, that she was enjoying herself too.

I can’t claim it was my skill or natural talent, but she peaked pretty quickly, and when I continued, came again, and again, before flopping and begging me to stop. By that point I was getting a little uncomfortable myself, so moved up and slid into her easily. She was hot, wet and snug, aftershocks continuing which squeezed me in a way which could not be ignored. I just stayed for a few moments, revelling in the feel of her, until her legs wrapped round me.

It had been about a year since my last time with Brooklynn, and nothing but my hand since then, so there was no way I could hold back for long. I came, hard, after only a few strokes and tried to roll off her to the side.

However, she didn’t allow that, and clung with both legs and arms so she ended up sprawled on top of me. I was still inside her as she lay on me, her head resting in my shoulder. Inevitably, I softened and fell out, at which she moved up to kiss me. Only then did I realise that she was weeping silently. I stroked her head gently, aware of a growing puddle of our combined juices on me.

“Shhh. Easy now.”

Sniff. “I’m,” sniff, “so happy.”

Okay. Who understands women? We lay like that for several minutes. “Dora,” pause, “we need to get up and clean up a bit.”

Sniff. “Okay.” Sniff. “Don’t want to” sniff “move.” Sniff. “Need tissues or something.”

“Sorry. Didn’t think ahead. They’re on the counter behind you.”

She rocked back onto her knees and, with a hand between her legs, stood by the bed and pulled a wad of tissues out of the box and stuffed them between her legs before grabbing another wad and starting to mop up my abdomen and crotch.

“Wanna go first in the shower?” I asked, forgetting that we weren’t connected to a drain.

“Better I sit on the toilet while you fill a bowl. We can wash each other.”

“You’re right.”

I was very happy that the original owner of the van specified gas to heat the water. While Dora was allowing my stuff to drain, I laid towels on the floor and filled a bowl with hot water. The bowl was not large enough to stand in, but would have to do.

Washing – and being washed – was more intimate than I might have imagined. It was also great fun.

“They’re very small,” Dora commented as I very carefully washed her breasts.

“Not so small, Baby. What are you? B cup?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well that’s just perfect for me. And they’re firm – no sag. Symmetrical. You could sit for Rodin to sculpt you.” Having made very sure they were clean, I broke off while Dora cleaned my cock and balls, just as carefully.

Moving on to her lower parts, I lingered over her bottom. “I’ve got a fat arse,” she said.

I swatted said backside. “Bad girl!”

“What?!”

“I said, ‘bad girl’. If ever you want to get me going, just bend over and show me your bottom. I told you. You’re woman-shaped. You’ve got big hips, because some day you’ll want to have children, and that’s the best way to be. If, or when, you have children, your breasts will get larger, but for right now they are lovely and I certainly wouldn’t swap you for some Barbie-shaped bimbo.”

Clean and dry, we settled down to sleep. Dora snuggled against me – half on top of me, in fact – and murmured, “It was never like that before. Never. I want to do it again, and again.”

“That’s good. So do I. But for right now, we should sleep.”

Her hand slid down over my chest and stomach and found my half-hard cock, which immediately became rock hard. “Mmm. Good. You really do. There’s something I want to try...” At which she swung a leg over me, knelt astride me, and impaled herself.

She sighed. I groaned. She began to move. “None of the men wanted it like this before. They wanted to be on top, or doggy, you know?” She rocked, swivelled her hips, adjusted her angle. “Ah. Just like ... that. Oh, yes!”