"Come on. It's me, Ben. Please, talk to me." She shook her head again and dropped it. She was starting to shake more, fighting tears. "If I talk, I'll cry. Give me a minute." Her voice cracked.

"There is nothing wrong with crying."

She just shook her head no.

"Cry if you need to, but don't shut me out. Let me in. Let me hold you." That did it. She crumbled. But she fell forward over his arms and covered her eyes with her hands and let her tears fall. He couldn't turn her around, so he did the next best thing and moved around her. He sat on the passenger seat and folded her onto his lap.

He tried not to let it bother him, but after all these weeks, all the things they had done together, it stung a little that she still didn't trust him enough to cry in front of him. He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back. She clung to his neck and cried quietly for a minute, but recovered quickly. "Sorry," she said on a choked hiccup.

"Why?"

"I'm ruining our weekend already." He shook his head and pulled her tightly against him, "You are not ruining anything. I want to spend the weekend with you. If you cry the whole time, it still won't be ruined. I'll be with you. Just don't shut me out." His voice was pleading.

Carrie couldn't speak. Her brain just couldn't find a reference for this idea. He wanted to be around her even if she was crying. This weekend was supposed to be about fun and sex. She nestled into his neck and worked on slowing her breathing while she tried to comprehend why. She lost track of time, but they must have sat there like that for at least 15 or 20 minutes because the sun was lower in the sky when she finally felt calm enough to look at him.

His eyes were still pleading with her. Don't shut him out. She was having a really hard time believing that he would want in, especially to this sad, dark part of her. She hated it, why wouldn't he?

"You OK?"

She nodded, "Yeah."

"Good," he kissed her forehead. "Ready to go?"

She chuckled, after all this time in MG's driveway? "Yeah." She was about to climb off his lap, but he held her in place. "Promise me, first," he turned her so she was facing him, "Whatever happens this weekend, if you want to cry, you will."

She nodded, but with some hesitation.

"And you will let me hold you if you do? You will not shut me out?"

She nodded with more conviction this time. She would do anything for him.

"Good," he stood with her in his arms, turned and plopped her on the seat. "Then let's get this show on the road."

Chapter 24.

They needed to get to the campsite before dark so he could get things set up. The time they spent in MG's driveway only left them with enough time to drive thru and get burgers and fries for dinner. He was maneuvering the hairpin turns of the back roads of Southern Missouri, so Carrie fed him bites of his burger. He, of course, got the double-bacon burger with lots of sloppy sauce, and he wasn't sure if she was really aiming or trying to miss his mouth. With every bite he ended up with more sauce on his face and her laughing harder. She leaned across the seats and licked some off his cheek.

"Mmmmm, Ben sauce." Her teasing him was making him think that the tent might be optional, and they could just use sleeping bags on the ground. On his next bite a big blob of sauce landed in his lap. She looked at him, her smile daring him to say no. He laughed, but his heart rate shot up and his cock too. She lowered her head and licked the sauce from his pants and brushed her hand across the bulge in his jeans while she was there.

"Shiiittt!" he ground out through gritted teeth. "You remember when I said you can't die of blue balls?"

Carrie giggled and nodded.

"I lied."

Twenty minutes later they arrived at the most secluded camping spot he knew of, complete with a creek deep enough to swim in. He had been going over rifle cleaning procedures in his head since the sauce incident so that he could resist the urge to throw her on the ground and tear her clothes off. He was going to do this right; set up the tent, build a fire, roll out their sleeping bags, then make love to her, slowly. But Carrie was having none of that. She walked toward the creek, watching the beautiful sunset through the trees, reflecting off the water. She stretched up and yelled, "GOD I FEEL GOOD!" and let out a whoop. The heavy, damp, evening air absorbed her bliss.

Ben was taking stuff from the back of the jeep and piling it where he wanted to set up the tent. He stopped to admire her, then bent to dump the tent out of the bag. Her shirt hit him upside the head. She was still standing watching the sunset, but now in her bra and jeans. He wrapped the shirt around his neck and went back to work. Her shoes hit him next, then her jeans. He looked up at her.

"I'm not going to get his tent set up, am I?"

She shrugged, "You can," and slowly took her bra straps off her shoulders. "If you want to." He dropped the tent poles in a pile and stalked over to her. She smiled up at him, daring him, then jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He grabbed on to her butt with one hand, supporting her, but also feeling her soft curves. With his other arm he supported her back and palmed the back of her head, bringing her mouth to his for a kiss.

She held nothing back. Her kiss was feverish, and her hands were tearing at his tee shirt, pulling it up over his chest. They broke their kiss briefly so she could pull it off and toss it. Her hands moved lower, on to his biceps where she dug into his muscles, urging him on.

One of his fantasies had always been to have sex in the woods, hot and hard, up against a tree. He spotted the large elm with a solid trunk on the edge of the creek. Oh, hell yes. He carried her there and pressed her back into the trunk with his chest as he kissed her hard. With his supporting hand at her back, he unhooked her bra. It fell between them to her lap. She kept kissing him as she grabbed it and tossed it aside. His cock strained to get through his pants and her panties to get to her. He still needed to get to a condom. They had some logistical problems. Tree sex might have to wait till tomorrow.

"Baby, we've got to slow down." He panted out between kisses. She shook her head no and tried to reach the button on his pants. Her legs were in the way, and there was no way to move them without falling. Still kissing him, she shook her head yes.

He let her slide slowly down his body, feeling her leg muscles squeezing him the whole way down. He hated to leave her standing there, mostly naked, but he had no choice. He turned and ran for the jeep, "Give me two seconds," he called back to her.

"One Mississippi," she smiled and counted.

He grabbed a condom from the supply box in the back of the jeep and sprinted for the sleeping bags.

"Two Mississippi" she cocked an eyebrow at him, challenging him to hurry. He popped the plastic buckle on the strap holding one of the sleeping bags together and tossed it open on the ground. "C'mere." He opened his arms for her.

She sprinted toward him. He had to force his focus off her bouncing breasts to remember to steel himself. She wasn't going to slow down. She jumped on top of him, and he let his knees buckle slowly, lowering them onto the sleeping bag.

He held her head so he could talk to her before she started kissing him again. "You don't want to go slow?"

She shook her head, "No, I'm dying here ... aren't you?"

"Yeah, but I can go slow, if you want me to ..." She rolled so she was next to him on the narrow sleeping bag, and she could reach the button on his jeans. She fought with it, and when she got it open, she slowed down only enough to pull the zipper down around his erection. Her hand skimmed down his stomach 'til she reached him and wrapped her hand around his hardness. "We can do slow some other time."

They were way into his fantasy land now. Carrie attacking him, wanting him. He was going to have to start disassembling rifles in his head if he was going to last more than a minute. She pushed at his jeans and briefs, working them down past his hips.

When she saw his cock she considered a new option. She had only tried to give Chuck a blow job once. He complained about her technique so she gave up and refused to try again. It had sort of grossed her out anyway. But now, she wanted to taste him, to feel him in her mouth, to blow his mind. He was pulling at the condom wrapper so he didn't see her devious smile before she lowered her head.

He dropped the wrapper, his head fell back, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he lost all thoughts, except one. WOW!

Carrie tried to remember what Chuck had told her; no teeth, hand at the base, put it all the way in, but all that thinking was just getting in her way. She licked and sucked and teased the smooth skin on the head while her hand wrapped around the hardness at the base and pumped. Damn, she was loving this. She felt powerful, and sexy, and safe. She wanted to feel him come, to taste it. Everything they had done up to now, all his sweet acceptance and adoration, let her forget about how she 'should' behave. She knew when he was close from the hand jobs she had given him, so she sped up and sucked harder, letting him know she had no intention of letting go when he came. His breathing sped up, he said her name with a few 'oh, gods' in between, all his gorgeous muscles bunched and tensed, and he came.

It was salty and warm and came out in several spurts. She kept gently sucking till the spurts slowed and his cock stopped jumping in her hand. His arms and legs went lax. His eyes were closed, and he had the most beautiful, contented smile.

When his breathing returned to normal he bent his arm to pull her in close. With her chin on his chest she looked up at him and smiled. "That was fun."

He chuckled, "You're telling me?" As he rubbed her back he studied her face, memorizing how amazing she looked at this moment, wanting to hold on to the connection he was feeling with her. She didn't play games with him. She opened herself, her heart, and loved him ... even if she didn't say the words. Right now, those words were dying to come out. He wanted to tell her. But that would end this moment. After her reaction to the rose, he knew that him loving her would crush her wall and there would be after-shocks. He could handle them they would get there.

He had no trouble convincing her to help set up the tent because the mosquitoes were starting to bite. He moved all their stuff inside, including the food. If he had his way, they weren't coming out for a long time.

He fished around in the cooler for her next surprise while she sat in the center of their sleeping-bag bed. He made her close her eyes as he tipped the bottle of chilled Boone's Farm Peach wine to her lips. She drank, some dribbled down her chin and she giggled. Ben kissed the drips of wine from her neck.

"It's peach," she smacked her lips, "Peach wine?" She opened her eyes. "Oh, my god, I don't think I've had that since your 14th birthday."

Ben took a big swig, "Me neither." He passed her the bottle, and she took a drink.

"Not your best birthday, huh?" she grimaced at the memory of him nearly drowning.

"Actually," he drank again, "it was one of the best."

"Ben, you almost drowned!"