If she knew how high this inferno inside me has already built, she would probably never come home from camping. She’d take her chances among the bears.
I’m not taking any chances with her surrounded by wildlife, however. As soon as Lula gets into the backseat and her friend pulls away, I follow. I keep an inconspicuous distance for hours, even allowing other cars to get between us, reasoning that I know the name of the campsite and I won’t lose her. I know exactly where Lula is going to be—and I plan on knowing her location at all times in the future.
Yeah, there’s no way to douse this fire she’s lit in me. I’m going to have her, damn the consequences. She’s mine. She’s fucking mine and no one is going to take her away from me.
I covet this responsibility to follow her on the camping trip and keep her safe. The privilege of being her man, her protector, is like air in my lungs. I’m not sure how we’re going to deal with my parents, the military brass or the press, but whatever their reaction, being with Lula is worth it. By a damn sight. Bring it on. I’ve never needed anyone or anything so much in my life.
Mine she’s mine she’s mine.
After a long stretch of driving up a winding, mountain road, the car carrying my stepsister pulls off into a parking lot. I drive past just to be safe and circle back, driving into the lot behind them a few minutes later. Parking at the opposite end and watching them unload supplies from the trunk, wishing I could carry Lula’s load. God, I would give anything to be the one going camping with her. The wilderness is a perfect setting for the animalistic things I want to do to her.
Eventually they start hiking down a path in the direction of the apparent campsite—and I follow, keeping to the trees, moving without a sound. Inhaling her incense scent from the air and dragging it into my lungs greedily. I’m still hard as a rock in my jeans. So stiff it’s painful. But I refuse to stop long enough to jack myself off. I’ve come on Lula’s perfect skin. Now anything else will be inferior and I’ll be hard again in seconds. There’s no point.
They stop ahead and begin pitching their tent, organizing chairs around a stone ring. They’ve picked a nice spot with a bubbling stream not too far away and a dense canopy of trees that give them ample shade—and allow me to easily remain unseen. I perform a silent perimeter check of the area to make sure there are no recent animal tracks or venomous creatures that might sink their teeth into my Lula. Once I’m satisfied that she’s safe, I rest a forearm on the trunk of a redwood and listen to their conversation.
“I’m seriously considering quitting this whole dating business,” says the blonde one. The back of her nylon chair is embroidered with the name Jess, so the other girl must be Santana. “The guy I went out with the other night was a disaster. Word to the wise, if he’s asking for anal after one date, run for the freaking hills.”
“No. He didn’t,” Santana groans, leaning forward. “Did you do it, though?”
There’s a long pause, then Jess says. “Yeah, it might have slipped in.”
The three girls erupt into laughter, but I can see my stepsister is shifting uncomfortably in her seat, playing with the beads on her bracelet. If I was within reaching distance, I would have already pulled her into my lap. “How did it feel? Weird or good?”
“Oh, definitely weird,” Jess laughs. “It’s kind of like…satisfying, I guess? Guys are so turned on by it, they only last like, two seconds.”
“It’s kind of flattering,” Santana pipes in, sipping from a mug.
“Why do they like it so much?” asks Lula.
Jess shrugs. “It’s just tighter.” She gives Lula a sly look. “Although you’re still hanging on to your virginity, so you’re probably tight no matter what.”
“Lucky me,” Lula responds with a smile. “Is that, like…really important to a guy?”
“Depends on the size of his you know what,” Santana answers, nodding sagely.
Any other time, I would probably be pretty amused by this conversation. It’s obvious that teenage boys are just as clueless as they always were—not that Lula will ever have to worry about that. It’s also obvious that these girls have a lot of affection for my stepsister. She’s obviously innocent as hell, but they don’t seem to be judging her halting questions.
“Why are you asking, Lula?” Jess asks, leaning over the elbow Lula. “You never ask us about sex. Do you have someone specific in mind?”
Lula picks up her own mug and takes a hasty sip. “What? No. I’m…no.”
Santana perks up. “That wasn’t very convincing.”