The View From My Knees

Here is the conclusion to the story of how I met my beloved Mechanic. If you haven’t already, read part 1 and part 2.

The next night, many members of the camp decided to stay in, hanging around our dome and enjoying the music coming from our neighbors across the street. After a day of flirting and occasional kisses, Mechanic and I decided to investigate their dance floor a little closer. We danced and giggled as we watched a couple, almost certainly rolling on Ecstasy, have sex under a blanket off to the side. Eventually, we decided that all of this making out just wasn’t good enough, and we headed back to Mechanic’s tent for another round of amazing sex.

The following day, I was more than a little upset to discover that I’d started my period. I’ll admit, I’m kind of a wimp when it comes to having sex on my period. I’d rather not deal with the mess. And the thought of doing it at Burning Man – where you’re constantly covered in dust and there’s not a shower in sight – was even less appealing. I told Mechanic about my situation, explaining that there probably wouldn’t be any more sex in the desert, but that we’d make up for it when we got home to Seattle. We fantasized about how much fun it would be to press our clean, naked bodies together on a real bed. Secretly, I was thrilled that he was as excited as I was about continuing our friendship when we returned home, and that this wouldn’t just be a Burning Man fling.

Later that afternoon, I asked to borrow something from Mechanic, I can’t remember what, and followed him to his tent to retrieve the item. Intending to wait patiently outside, I couldn’t help but follow him into his tent. One kiss led to another, and yet another. Soon we were rolling around in a heated makeout session, fully clothed, with our feet poking out the tent door. I could feel his hard cock through his pants as I gyrated against him. As we realized that this wouldn’t go any further, we allowed our lips to part and our tongues to rest. We lay there for a few more minutes, cuddling and attempting to cool off. He looked at me, locked my eyes in his gaze, and said what is probably the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me:

“You are gonna get so fucked in a few days.”

God, I wanted him so badly at that moment. But, despite our desire, it just wasn’t the right time. That didn’t stop me, however, from pouncing on him one more time for several more minutes of groping and kissing. Eventually, we managed to compose ourselves and get back to the task at hand. He retrieved the almost forgotten item, and we returned to the kitchen where the rest of the camp was killing time in the shade, waiting for the hot sun to let up.

We were able to make it through the rest of that night with only a few stolen kisses and seductive glances. At times, we would even cuddle on the couch or stroke one another’s thigh while sitting in the kitchen area. On the final night, we weren’t so well behaved. Lucky had encouraged me to make the most of my last night at Burning Man, so I took his advice and made plans to spend the night with my handsome new friend. No, we wouldn’t be having sex, but I would make sure he enjoyed our time together, regardless.

After a night of ambling around the city, stopping frequently to make out, we ended up in his tent. Pressed together on his air mattress, we kissed and groped. Our bodies ground against each other and, even through our clothes, I could feel his erection rubbing against my swollen clit. It felt like this teasing had gone on for hours and, knowing that nothing would come of it, I finally rolled onto my stomach to go to sleep. He moved on top of me, spreading my legs so that I could feel his bulge pressing into me, even from behind. Our fingers laced together, grabbing at the pillow above my head as he kissed the back of my neck and gyrated his hips between my legs from behind. As I lay on my stomach, I could feel his eager cock pressing through his pants into the thin material of my panties, practically entering my waiting pussy. He thrust and he thrust, and my moaning became louder and louder.

With my last bits of sanity, I wondered why I was doing this to myself. Why had I let this teasing go so far and for so long? Then, finally, my passion overtook me. I didn’t care if it was messy, and obviously neither did he. I wanted his cock inside of me. I needed it. We scrambled to lay a towel down. Clothes vanished. He rolled on a condom. I stoked my clit in anticipation. Then, finally, he entered me. Our hours – perhaps even days – of teasing had all led up to this one explosive moment. The feeling of the head of his penis pushing through the moist lips of my vagina was mind-blowing. We fucked, our bodies pressed tightly against each other, for minutes or maybe hours, each thrust just as amazing as the first, until finally both of our bodies erupted in orgasm. Afterward, we basked in the satisfaction of succumbing to our desire, a desire our teasing had built to astronomical levels, and soon fell into a blissful sleep.

This may have been our last night together at Burning Man, but it was only the beginning of an ongoing passionate affair. In the three months since we’ve been home, Mechanic and I have seen each other frequently and have had a lot of amazing sex. I’ve grown to adore him immensely. He’s an addiction, of sorts. I’m addicted to his blue eyes and sweet smile. I’m addicted to those adorable sideburns. I’m addicted to the feeling of his smooth skin pressed against my body. I’m addicted to his cock sliding deep inside of me. Sometimes I feel like I can never get enough of him. I’m not sure what he did to me out there in the desert to make me want him so badly. But as long as he keeps giving me what I crave, I’ll be a happy little slut.

If you haven’t already, be sure to read part 1

I awoke in my tent late in the afternoon, sweating and dehydrated. Despite my discomfort, I lay in bed for a few extra minutes, reminiscing about my kiss from the night before. Nervous to see him again, I tried to clean up and picked out a cute outfit before emerging from my tent. Most of the camp was bustling around making breakfast while Mechanic was busy fixing a bike. Doing my best to act cool, I walked into the kitchen area and greeted everyone. When he looked up from his project, I managed to hold my composure while flashing him a smile. “Good morning,” I said warmly, then quickly went to work on my own breakfast.

As the day went on, I found excuses to sit next to him, stand near him, or talk to him. Fingers pulled me aside and gave me some advice. “He’s definitely into you, ” he started. “You should play hard to get. I bet he’d chase you.”

“But I don’t know how to play hard to get!” I admitted. It was true; it had been a long time since I’d played any dating games. And as fun as a little chase might be, it was getting harder and harder to keep my hands off of him. Still, I thought Fingers may have be on to something. “I suppose I could give it a try,” I concluded.

As the afternoon sun beat down, the members of our camp gathered in the shaded dome to relax. When I arrived, I saw that there was an empty chair next to Mechanic, but I hesitated. Remembering Fingers’ advice, I opted for a position on a loveseat further away. Thinking back, it seems a little silly that the best way I could play hard to get was to sit a few seats away from the object of my desire, but cut me some slack, alright? It was tough enough to even do that.

After resting awhile, I decided it was finally time to erect my beloved stripper pole to provide some entertainment for the camp. Lucky and I got to work setting up a sound system and getting our playlist ready. I practiced some spins and demonstrated some moves to volunteer dancers we pulled in from the street, but with Mechanic and the rest of our camp watching, I was feeling a little too shy to do a full performance. I knew I had to do something to get over this silly bout of shyness. After all, this was my pole. I had to show off a little. I knelt at the laptop that had been providing our soundtrack and turned on my favorite pole dancing song. This song had been my theme during my introduction to the craft the previous year, and I knew that if this couldn’t motivate me, nothing could. As the distorted guitar licks of Buckcherry’s Crazy Bitch pounded through the speakers, I walked toward the stage and began to dance. Almost immediately, I forgot about being shy. I owned that nasty rock song, and I commanded the attention of my audience. I gyrated against the pole and ran my hands seductively along my body. I wrapped my legs around the shiny steel and spun around. I locked eyes with each spectator, briefly dancing only for him or her in those few moments. It was only when my eyes met his that I couldn’t pull myself away. Suddenly, I really was dancing only for him, my Mechanic. I didn’t care who else was watching. Every move of my hips, every caress of my body, every smile was for him. A few times, I forced myself to pull my gaze from his, giving the rest of the audience a passing glance, but I always went back to him.

I danced to a few more songs after that, and it was always the same. No matter who was watching, no matter how hard I tried to give the rest of my audience some attention, I always went back to him. I wanted him – badly – and I wanted him to want me, too. Soon, however, I grew tired and needed a break, so I took my place in the audience on a large cushion on the ground. Mechanic joined me, and while we cuddled up together, Fingers used his megaphone to lure passersby, usually hot half-naked women, onto our pole. Our cuddling soon turned to kissing and caressing, and day soon turned to night. One by one, our campmates either passed out from drinking or left to go exploring, leaving just the two of us. We took advantage of our time alone together and picked up where we’d left off the night before.

Eventually, we took a break from making out long enough to make ourselves some dinner. Just as we’d finished eating, a group of our campmates returned. Giggly and probably a little bit high, they encouraged us to join them as they explored the Playa. What I really wanted to do was stay at camp and explore my new friendship more intimately, but their elation was contagious, so I thought it might be fun to go out for a little while. “You wanna go?” I asked him.

He shrugged. “Sure.”

We grabbed our bikes, and the six of us rode off into the desert night. We all laughed and joked with each other as we explored the art installations scattered about the Playa. I was having a good time, but I was distracted. So was he. Any time we weren’t racing along on our bikes, we kept our hands warm by running them all over each other’s bodies. While the others closely inspected an exhibit, we stared into each other’s eyes with intense desire. We found ourselves lip-locked at every opportunity. At times it seemed as if we’d forgotten there was anyone around us. Finally, we decided we couldn’t delay any longer. As we waited outside of an installation for our friends to return, I asked an innocent question with a very obvious intent. “What do you want to do next? Do you want to keep going?”

“No,” he replied. He didn’t need to say more. I knew it was time.

We managed to hold out for our friends to return so we could tell them we were heading back to camp. “You guys should have fucked earlier so you could stay out with us,” they teased.

I giggled and looked at him. He was laughing, too, but behind that smile I could see the lust. It was time to go.

The ride back to camp was quick and silent. We were on a mission, and nothing was going to slow us down. When we arrived, we parked our bikes and stood at the entrance to our camp for a moment, looking at each other. We’d ridden all this way, and we both knew why, but neither of us knew exactly how to move on to the next obvious step. “What do you want to do now?” he asked me.

I knew it was up to me to move forward. Gathering up my courage, I kissed him and replied, “I want you to take me back to your tent.”

He grinned and his eyes sparkled. He walked me back to his tent and climbed in ahead of me to clear the way. Once he’d cleaned up a bit, I removed my shoes, climbed inside, and squirmed around for a comfortable position on his air mattress. We began to kiss and grope, which soon led to licking and sucking. He placed his head between my legs, and my body tensed at the touch of his skilled tongue. When it was my turn to pleasure him, I applied lubricant from my sex travel kit, which I’d grabbed from my tent, to aid my dry mouth as I devoured his cock. I grew frustrated as the cheap brand became sticky on his shaft, until I finally had to give up. It was no matter, all of this foreplay was getting in the way of what I really wanted: his hard cock inside of me. He slipped on a condom and crawled between my eager legs. I rolled my eyes and tilted my head back, moaning with delight as he entered me. Slowly, he began to move his hips between my thighs, our bodies writhing together in a way that sent ripples of ecstasy through my body. When I managed to open my eyes long enough to look at at him, I saw him smiling down at me, obviously enjoying our passion as much as I was. It felt as if our bodies had been crafted to fit together, with every nook and cranny fitting into place for maximum enjoyment.

Thinking back, I’m not sure if it was the way our bodies moved together or the passion we’d built up throughout the day that made it so incredibly hot. Probably both. It doesn’t really matter: it was one of the most amazing sexual experiences I’ve shared with a lover. Each thrust was more mind-blowing than the last. It wasn’t long before I felt my entire body overtaken by waves of earth-shattering orgasms. Soon after, I felt his cock convulsing inside of me as he came.

Afterward, we lay beside each other in a sweaty heap taking sips from a water bottle. “That was fucking amazing,” I gushed.

He smiled and, in his understated way, said, “yeah, that was pretty fucking good.”

We lay together, reflecting on our encounter for a while longer. Then, finally, I kissed him goodnight and returned to my tent where Lucky slept soundly in a drunken slumber.

Read part 3

See more of Peaches at Met-Art.com

“Looking forward to fucking the hell out of you soon.”

I couldn’t have asked for a better greeting after turning on my phone. I was tired, dirty, and cramped from spending hours in the car, but his text message sent ripples through my body. A week in the harsh environment of the desert may have taken its toll on my body, but my sex drive was still going strong. I curled up in the passenger seat of the car, Lucky at the wheel beside me, and smiled as I read his message again.

It had all started with a look. We’d been living in Black Rock City for only a day, and I was still getting to know my campmates. Lucky and Fingers were there along with a few others I’d camped with the previous year. Some, however, I’d just met. This included a tall fellow with ginger-colored hair and devlishly sexy sideburns running down his cheeks. A few times, I thought I’d noticed his gaze lingering on me, and I found myself wanting to get to know this quiet stranger a little better.

He’d registered with the event as a bike mechanic, a lifesaver in a city with no cars, and I watched as he helped desperate cyclists repair their only means of transportation for the week. No matter what problem was presented to him, he always knew exactly what to do. His put his strong hands to work without a trace of the cockiness you often see in someone of such skill. I find something incredibly sexy about watching someone like that in action.

Later that day, Fingers and I went on a mission through the streets of the city, stopping at every bar that crossed our path. It wasn’t long before we had a nice buzz going – okay, maybe more than a buzz. We were having a great time together, meeting new people and hitting on cute girls. Already in a flirty mood, I decided to prod for information about my new crush. “What’s The Mechanic’s situation? Like, what’s his availability?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to find out?” Fingers offered. I could always depend on Fingers to be my wing man, just as he could depend on me. We’ve always had this mutual desire to get each other laid. It’s one of the many reasons he’s my best friend. [Pause to reflect on the cheesy declaration of affection for my homie.]

Later that night, the members of our camp all converged in our dome for some drinking and other hijinks. Fingers and I cuddled on an old, dusty loveseat while others lounged on cushions or in camping chairs. We all laughed as Fingers called out to passersby through a megaphone – one of our favorite Burning Man pastimes. As the night went on, our fellow campers headed to their tents to get some sleep. Eventually, even Fingers couldn’t keep it up. He arose from the loveseat and declared that he was going to bed. “Mechanic, why don’t you get over here and keep her warm,” Fingers directed, motioning toward me. Then he gave me a wink and stumbled off to his tent.

The Mechanic took his place next to me on the loveseat, and I covered our legs with a blanket. We were the only two left from our camp, but the city was still alive around us. For the next few hours, we watched the street in front of us, listening to the sounds of nearby dance parties, chatting, and playing that shy game of slowly cuddling closer and closer while trying not to be obvious. By daylight, his arms were around me, and our legs were comfortably entangled. Despite the rush I was getting from this new development, I was having a hard time staying awake, and I finally had to succumb to my weariness.

“I’m really enjoying laying here with you, but I think it’s time for me to go to bed,” I confessed.

“I’m enjoying this, too,” he agreed.

Hearing this, I melted and couldn’t help but to snuggle a little closer to him for a few more minutes. Finally, though, I had to give in to my body. “Okay, okay. This time I’m really going to bed,” I declared. I managed to pull myself out of our cuddling position and turned toward him to say goodnight. One look into those georgeous blue eyes and the shyness I’d been feeling all night lifted. I leaned in and kissed him. Then one kiss led to another, and before I knew it we’d been making out for over an hour. But even the heat between my legs, fueled by his soft lips on mine, couldn’t battle the haze coming over my head. I had to give in, no matter how much I wanted to stay out on the couch with him, making out in the soft light of dawn. “I suck at going to bed,” I giggled. “But I think it’s finally time.”

“Okay,” was all he said, but his smile dared me to stay.

I wished I’d had the strength to take that dare, but it would have to wait. It was only the beginning of the week, we’d have plenty of time for kissing – and other pleasures. “Goodnight,” I said softly, and sauntered to my tent.

Stay tuned for the rest of the story. Believe me, babydolls, it gets much, much hotter.