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As he passed the burnt-down joint back to her, Diavolo fell back into the crunchy grass and stared up at the sky. When he finally exhaled seconds later, he chuckled and drew his gaze toward her. “Man, the moonlight makes you look gorgeous tonight,” he said with a goofy smile plastered across his broad jaw.
She smiled, took a hit, then put out the butt on the bottom of her sandal. It was already nothing but ash anyway. “You’re so sweet,” she said, “but something about it makes you look as handsome as ever.”
Diavolo stroked down her spine with his fingertips, the wide sleeves of his cotton, tie-dye shirt dangling into the tall grass. “Lay down?”
Without argument, she crawled on all fours and swung her leg over his wide hips. “You know,” she said, “I didn’t expect you to want to come back with me and spend so much time with the community. This isn’t exactly where a politician’s son should be.”
“Since when do I go where I’m expected?” he asked, his hands skimming up and down her arms before he led her to lay across his bare chest. The warm, sticky late-summer air kept him as comfortable as a blanket, and he always grew warmer and more intimate when he smoked.
Because he knew she loved his touch on late nights surrounded by her safe haven—her fellow community of hippies, vagrants, and communes—he fell right into the rhythm and curiosity of their customs. Nearly every night, they shared bowls of soups between the fifteen members, followed by a campfire and smoking. During the day, a few of them sold handcrafted goods or busked at farmers’ markets in town. Others stayed at the tents and buses to clean the pillows, blankets and clothes. The rest, including his dearest, did their best to provide to the community by keeping a stable employment at nearby villages doing what amounted to grunt work: farming, house cleaning, babysitting, and all of these other tasks.
Naturally, Diavolo followed her everywhere she went from the moment he fell in love, and he had never looked back.
On nights like this, cuddled beneath the visible stars, creating their own constellations with the sparkles in each others’ eyes, they watched each other move against their naked hips and chests with nothing but gentle breezes and soft gasps to cool them. Sometimes, they heard others in the community do the same. Sometimes, they felt more hands than their four join in the intimacy. Sometimes, they fell asleep listening to the snores of their fellow friends.
“I’m so in love with you,” she said unprovoked as she pressed a slow kiss to his growing stubble.
“And I am in love with you,” he said, nuzzling into her neck. The movement forced a giggle from her, his beard tickling her skin. “Would you mind if it’s just us tonight?”
No question. She sat up to grab two nearby sticks painted a deep red and stuck them into the ground in the form of an X not far from their left sides, a small soy candle resting on a log in front so others could see the signal from a distance. When done, she lay back down on Diavolo’s chest and sighed contentedly.
“Better.” They adjusted their clothes ever so slightly, his erection popping up to press between their stomachs. Enough sweat from the air left him throbbing in response to the heat and subtle lubrication. Her musky scent, the natural scent of her skin on her supple neck where he would proudly leave bruises until she was marked so much that others knew she was taken. Yes, camaraderie and sharing were important, but not with her. He was the only one allowed to enter her body, any orifice, any part, and they agreed early on that it would remain that way. She was the one piece of his life he would never share, and he was the one piece she placed on a pedestal far beyond the stars in a land unknown to humans.
Above them swirled various clouds of smoke, shifting and puffing away with each of their moans. He clutched her love handles, her stature just enough to hold him to the ground but not enough to pin him in place had he chosen to be on top. Clutched her belly, his fingers digging into inches of curves and marking small crescents in the skin. “You’re gorgeous,” he said against her lips. “You’re so perfect for me.”
Her body stopped moving on top of his, letting his cock pulse against her walls as she caught her breath. With a drunken smile, she lifted onto her elbows on his chest and nosed his chin upward to face her. Another routine. Another welcome respite and tease and sharing of emotion between two vagabonds living with found family in the only spot the government would let them stay. His dick warmed, begging for more stimulation but not receiving anything. Over time, they had both learned the power of the pot and the mind—how they could easily push themselves into orgasm at moments like this using nothing more than focus. The sensations on his cock were comfortable, arousing and tight. She was wet, so wet that he almost couldn’t stand remaining immobile. Instead, he stole her sunburnt lips in a sharp kiss, his teeth nipping her bottom lip outward with a happy hum from them both.
Such an intimate moment. No one but the gods above and the demons below watching them make love beneath the full moon.
“You’re mine.” He thrusted up, making her squeal in pain and pleasure from the shock. “Mine, baby.”
After a few moments of catching her breath, she nodded and rested her forehead against his collarbone, a silent sign for him to take control as her hips lifted until only the head of his cock was still inside her. “Same to you,” she murmured, pressing her mouth to his neck and suckling the drops of stardust away. Grass crinkled in his ear as she shifted to tug gently on his hair as though he had horns coming out the sides of his head. If he did, and if they were sensitive enough, that alone would have sent him into a climax so quick that he would faint before satisfying her.
He started slow, then picked up his pace as her moans against his chest became more and more loose. Despite everything they stood for in the community, she spoke low enough that only he could hear: “Harder, baby. H-harder. Ooh, yes, oh, shit, baby, keep going, oh, shit, b-baby, I’m gonna…! I-I’m gonna come, fuck...” She always came before him because he made sure she came first.
In every part of his life, she was his first, his lover, his life partner, his queen.
There was nothing he wouldn’t do to please his queen.