Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“Yes!” The water isn’t the only thing sparkling and fizzing. My blood, her eyes, my whole body, her lips in that wide smile…
My dick isn’t actually a useful tool because it’s in the way. It hurts, trapped in my jeans, and it bashes up against my fly when I bend over and take the tent out of the bag. It’s a small tent. A three-person dome. It just pops up with two poles that thread through the top and bend, but I have a hard time with that. My hands fumble, and I can’t focus.
We get it set up anyway, though it’s all thanks to Evilla and no thanks to me.
Evilla is the one who drags the coffee table out of the way and who spreads the rug out when I say the tent sucks on hardwood, and it’s great on the high pile rug. That way, it won’t move, and it’s extra soft. You know what’s not extra soft, though? My dick. But I don’t say that, obviously. I have the good sense not to make ungentlemanly comments even though the level of blood to my brain is reaching dangerously low levels.
“We hardly did camping as a family,” Evilla says, not noticing how inept I am. “I went camping for a school trip when I was ten, but it was horrible. In hindsight, I feel so sorry for the teachers and chaperones who were trying to keep a bunch of pre-hormonal kids under control. It was pure chaos, all-nighters, and lots of ticks. Oh my god, there were so many ticks. We were freaking covered.”
“That sounds horrific.”
“It was. I had two on the back of my neck, three on my bikini line, one behind my knee, and one in my armpit. They get everywhere. My friend’s mom was there as a chaperone, and she got them off with tweezers. I was freaking out about having to burn them off some seriously sensitive areas, but she just took them, pinched them, and waited until they let go of me. Nothing happened. I thought I would get some horrible disease, but I didn’t even get a mark. As far as I know, everyone was fine.”
“I’ve never had one.”
“Really?” She blows air out of her nose and grabs one of the camping mats. They’re tucked in the bag so tightly that she has to give it a few good shakes to get it to slide out even an inch. The motion makes her breasts jiggle and hips shake, and my dick nearly punches through my jeans.
“Never. I’ve had some run-ins with spiders while camping, though.”
“Hmm, spiders. They’re okay. Unless they’re venomous. Those are not cool.”
“No, they’re not,” I agree.
“I’m afraid of probably ninety-point-seven percent of the wildlife in this country.”
Would it make me sound less manly to say I agree? But instead, I grab the other camping pad and shake it out. “These fill up with air as soon as they hit the ground. They take a second, but they’re great. No blowing required.”
We both look at each other at the same time. Wow, that was one hundred billion percent dirty-sounding. Evilla just reaches for a sleeping bag, unsheathes it—lord, will the dirtiness never end—and puts it down on the mat. Then, she frowns. “Oh. These probably have to go in the tent.”
“Wait. I have a surprise.”
I reach for the small box that’s been sitting off to the side all this time, and Evilla’s eyebrows shoot up as soon as I open it. “No way! You still have it?”
“Yep, I still have it. All the way from my childhood.”
It’s not fully dark outside yet, but I click the button anyway. The star projector plugs in, or it also runs on batteries. And just this morning, I made sure it had fresh ones. With just that single motion of my finger, the ceiling, with its chunky beams, transforms into a starry wonder. Okay, so it’s not as cool as when I was a kid, and those dots don’t really even resemble stars, but when I turn off all the lights, it will be fun.
“We can lay on the sleeping bags and watch the stars!”
“The one thing I regret about this place is that it doesn’t have rooftop access. The next building I develop, that’s a mistake I’m not going to make. I wanted it with this one, but there was just no room and no way. No one was willing to do it for me because it would have been so unsafe.”
“Hmm. This is the next best thing. Most of the time, in the city, the stars aren’t that visible anyway. Plus, bugs. And what if someone had a telescope and was watching your roof?”
“I think telescopes are more for the sky.”
“Binoculars? Telephoto camera lens?”
“Because someone has a weird fascination with me?” I quip.