“It’s still too cold! XXX “Yeah… this isn’t actually ‘camping’. It was one of my favourite things about you, that we could always feed into each other’s fantasies, no matter how dirty, or taboo, or wrong. it’s called a toque!” I grinned, nipping gently at your lip. So, so much!”
“Love you, too… They were fine, of course—I’d insisted that you wear the good, thick woollen ones I’d bought you, no matter how uncomfortable you said they were, for exactly this reason. We moaned and writhed together under our thick, heavy blankets, the extra weight trapping our heat, the whistling wind outside accompanying your squeals. I came closer to the couch, kneeling before you, reaching up to gently lower your scarf. I could barely see you, just a hint of the cute pink pom-pom on your toque, poking up over the back of the couch where you
