Chapter 7

I stayed awake on purpose, enjoying my unexpected and totally pleasurable access to the buck-naked body of this large, sexy, wonderful young woman. As big and intimidating as Tess' body was, there didn't seem to be an ounce of fat on her anywhere.

I could have stayed there indefinitely. Well, I did stay there. I stayed flush against Tess' warm back and butt and my erect cock stayed nestled right there where either one of us, with the least bit of initiative, could have put it to excellent use.

But, sweet and enjoyable as it was, my body, pretty quickly, betrayed me and I joined Tess in silent slumber. When I woke up, the clock on the bed table said 3:36 and my penis, sporting only a semi now, said "let's lose this beer."

I got up -- carefully, so as not to disturb Tess. I went out into the main compartment and peed in my own little bathroom. I peed for a long time. It felt great.

I gave my teeth a little brushing -- just in case something nice were to happen when I went back to bed.

Tess was still out cold when I crawled back in behind her. Her position, facing away from me on her left side, was unchanged. I lay on my own left side and spooned against her again. No erection, this time. I was just going to enjoy the warmth.

But my body, cooled by the air conditioning, was enough to revive Tess as soon as I touched her. "Ummmm," she said.

She turned onto her back.

I thought she was still asleep and just changing positions, but I stayed close and re-draped my right arm, chastely, below her breasts and across her body.

"Ummmm," Tess said again.

I didn't say -- or do -- anything. I was prepared to resume our mutual slumber.

But Tess was no longer asleep. "I'm awake now," she said.

"Hi," I said, brilliantly.

"I'm ready now," she said, "if you're not too tired."

"Oh, I'm not too tired," I assured her. Never. Never had I ever felt so not-too-tired. I kissed her on the lips, but she kept her own lips tightly closed.

When I gave up on the kiss, she was apologetic. "Bad breath," she said, protecting me from her breath with an upraised hand.

"I don't care," I told her, moving to kiss her lips again.

"I know it's bad," she said. "I can't. Please don't kiss me."

"Can I kiss your breasts?"

"I haven't had a shower."

"You took a shower when we got back from the tournament."

"But then we went out again. That was hours ago!" She was talking to me directly now, from close range, and she had forgotten about the protective hand at her mouth.

Her breath really was a little ripe, at that.

"You don't want me to kiss your breasts because you haven't had a shower?"

"I'm all sweaty."

"I don't care. I love sweaty breasts."

"You just like mine because they're so damned big."

"Guilty. I do like them because they're big. I admit it." I decided that asking if I could kiss her breasts was a waste of time. If she fought me off, I'd suggest we take a shower. Immediately. Together.

So, to demonstrate to her that sweaty breasts were not a problem, I licked them, repeatedly, lavishly, stem to stern. God. Tess' breasts were magnificent. I had never, in my sadly limited life as a lover of women, encountered anything like these monumental mammaries! Many (many women, anyway) would say they were too big. I suppose that an argument could be made to that effect. Certainly Tess, fine athletic woman that she was, never would run a marathon. Not with those heavy-duty knockers.

And they would have likely limited her success as a long jumper, or a sprinter, or a pole-vaulter as well. Pairs figure-skating? Forget it -- unless Governor Arnold wanted to partner-up with her.

But weren't there female shot-putters? And hammer-throwers? I seemed to remember seeing photographs of East German and other steroid-injecting Soviet Bloc babes shooting (shot-ing?) those, uhh -- puts (?), and throwing heavy hammers around.

Well, my Tess could do that kind of stuff, all right! She definitely had the physique for those more exotic field events.

The javelin, too, maybe.

But, best of all, she could play golf like an oversized angel.

So I licked and kissed and sucked on Tess' twin treasures, spread out there before me like a double-dip vanilla cone, with plump matching cherries on top: an ice cream lover's wet dream. She very quickly stopped talking about her alleged sweatiness and seemed to give herself over with some enthusiasm to my attentions.

Big breasts are always a bonus, but big sensitive breasts? Well, hell -- priceless!

And by now, my erection, which had drifted off to sleep earlier when Tess and I had, was back. Oh, my, yes! And, much as I was enjoying getting intimately acquainted with those sweet, free-flopping boobies, I was beginning to focus on coming attractions as well.

When I shifted my body downward and found myself between Tess' beautifully muscled thighs, I was face to face with an almost completely shaven little pussy. It seemed like such a tiny little pussy, for such a big, strong grown-up woman to have. Almost delicate, it appeared -- although the shaven lips were certainly plump and inviting enough.

And the smell! Oh, my! The musk down there was incredible! I felt myself turning to stone. My erection had an erection.