“Why don't you let me take a good look at you, first?” “Here?” I gasped. “Here.” he confirmed with a serious nod. I started slowly moving my hands, swallowing nervously. This had not been part of the plan. We'd played around with exhibitionism a little bit; his apartment had huge, floor-to-ceiling windows off the kitchen and dining room, and he loved fucking me pressed up against the glass where anybody could look in and see. His place was only a block away, too, and you could see those windows from the second and third floors of the precinct, which had always given me an extra thrill. But even so, that was a far cry from what he was suggesting now... Still, I kept slowly unfastening my jacket, then opened it, letting him see what was underneath. He stared hungrily, licking his lips. I thought for a moment that might be enough, but then he looked up into my eyes, and I knew he wanted me to continue. I looked around first, seeing nobody, then shrugged out of my jacket, carefully. She was holding my head and sniffing and kissing along my scalp line.She started kissing back down towards my lips. "I've been fantasizing all night about what it'd be like to be utterly ravished by a guy with the smell of campfire smoke thick in his hair. It's been driving me nuts."I seemed to fit that bill."And about how hot it would be if that guy happened to be my own brother."It was like my numbers were clicking to win the Power Ball. I plunged ahead early knowing I'd win. I'd won many times before, but it'd been a long time; time had slowed down and sped up and become harder to steal in the years since we'd married and started families.Sandra and I grew up camping, loving every stinky second of it. Our parents were ready to pack the tents in the station wagon every chance they got, any time of year. There was nothing better than going to bed in a sleeping bag, your head on a pillow in a halo of hair smelling of campfire smoke.Funny how we both married people who hated even the.
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