conscious thought was that I was being raped by my sleeping bag. My second thought was that my first thought was ridiculous, because you cannot rape the willing. I opened my eyes to focus on the face of an angel, her dark hair a curtain shielding us from the rest of the world. Her eyes met mine and I knew I could never let her go. She leaned down, her lips touching mine. We feasted from each other, breath, sound, passion. Her breasts pressed against my chest, her hips rolling, swaying as she took her pleasure from me, used me to fill her carnal desires. I felt the soft velvet throat begin to pulse, drawing me in deeper, milking me. I released into her, screaming into her kiss. The feeling of my heat in her must have been what she was