32
A ringing phone penetrated Carly’s stupor. She blinked her eyes open and the fading blue sky spanned above her. Steve lay upon her like a man dead or smugly asleep.
It rang again.
She looked around. Trees, wildflowers, remains of a lunch. She managed to flop her head to face the other way. Success, so at least that much of her body was still working. The rest of her had been slain by multiple orgasms and would clearly never function again.
A scattering of clothes. Her backpack.
On the next ring, Steve grunted back to life.
“Backpack,” she whispered, unable to unwrap her arms from around his shoulders. Nice shoulders.
His eyes cleared and he looked down at her. A smile completely pleased with itself came into being.
His move to kiss her again was cut off by another sharp ring.
“
