Trailhead

The tent flap hadn't even closed all the way when I saw her stretch out her legs. Maya’s bare feet arched against the sleeping bag, toes curling and uncurling like she was testing the air. The lantern light caught the shine of her skin, the dust from the trail still clinging to her ankles.

“God, my feet are killing me,” she groaned, rolling her head to look at me. “Eight miles in those boots. You owe me a massage, Coach.”

I laughed, unzipping my jacket. “I’m not your coach out here, Maya. We’re just… us.”

“Us.” She said it slow, like she was tasting it. Her foot nudged my thigh through my sweatpants. “I like the sound of that.”

The tent smelled like pine and damp earth and her. I could see the way her tank top had ridden up, the smooth curve of her stomach, the hint of sweat at her collarbone. She caught me looking and smiled, all teeth.

“You know,” she said, wiggling her toes against my leg, “you’ve been staring at my feet for weeks at the gym. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

My throat went dry. “I stare at a lot of things.”

“Yeah?” She pushed herself up on her elbows, her tits pressing against the thin fabric. “Like what?”

I reached out and wrapped my hand around her ankle. Her skin was warm, slightly damp. I traced my thumb along the arch, and she let out a breath that was almost a moan.

“Like this,” I said, my voice low. “The way you point your toes when you do lunges. The way your calves flex when you walk.”

She bit her lip. “That’s so fucking hot, Mark.”

I moved my hand up her calf, slow, feeling the muscle shift under her skin. She spread her legs just a little, inviting. I could smell her, that sweet, musky scent that made my cock throb against my pants.

“I want to taste you,” I said, not even thinking. “Not just your pussy. I want to taste every part of you.”

Maya’s eyes went dark. She lifted her foot and pressed it against my chest, right over my heart. “Then do it.”

I lifted her foot to my mouth, my tongue tracing the line of her arch. She tasted like salt and dust, earthy and real. I sucked her big toe into my mouth, and she gasped, her back arching.

“Fuck, Mark…”

I worked my way down, kissing the ball of her foot, the heel, the tender spot between her toes. She was squirming now, her hips rocking against nothing, her hands gripping the sleeping bag.

“Maya,” I said, my mouth against her ankle, “I need you naked. Now.”

She laughed, breathless, and tore at her tank top. Her tits bounced free, nipples hard and dark. I crawled up her body, my cock brushing against her thigh, and she reached down and grabbed it through my pants.

“Jesus, you’re huge,” she whispered.

“You like it?”

“I want it inside me.”

I pulled my pants down just enough, and she guided me to her entrance. She was already soaked, her pussy slick and hot against the head of my cock. I pushed in slow, watching her face as I filled her inch by inch.

“Oh god,” she moaned, her nails digging into my shoulders. “Yes. Fuck, yes.”

I started to move, a slow, deep rhythm that made her eyes roll back. Her legs wrapped around my waist, her heels digging into my ass, pushing me deeper.

“Harder,” she begged. “Please, Mark, fuck me harder.”

I grabbed her hips and pounded into her, the tent walls shuddering with every thrust. Her moans turned into cries, high and desperate, and I could feel her pussy clenching around me, pulling me in.

“I’m gonna come,” she gasped. “Don’t stop, oh god, don’t stop—”

I drove into her one last time, buried to the hilt, and she screamed as she came, her body convulsing around me. I followed right behind, my cock pulsing as I filled her, hot and thick.

She collapsed against me, panting, her forehead slick with sweat. I pulled out and lay beside her, my hand finding hers.

“So,” she said, her voice hoarse, “does this mean I get a discount on my next session?”

I laughed, pulling her close. “Only if you let me do that again.”

Morning came with grey light through the tent fabric and the smell of coffee. Maya was already awake, zipped into my jacket, her bare legs tangled with mine. She handed me a steaming cup and smiled, her eyes soft.

“My feet hurt again,” she said.

I took the cup and raised an eyebrow. “That so?”

She lifted her foot, resting it on my thigh. “Yeah. You might need to work overtime.”