Honestly, I didn't mind that he wasn't a fan of giving head, because I really was, so it sort of worked out great. Tim relaxed back some, sitting back on the couch as if he was watching TV straight ahead, hand outstretched still moving around my cock, as he stared at it. I then stood up, got between his legs and kneeled down, hand on his cock, and enveloped it from tip to more than halfway down his long, thick shaft, as he moaned in pure delight.No longer needing a hand, I pumped my head back and forth, hands pressed against the couch, sucking, swirling my tongue, gripping every inch I could with my lips as Tim moaned more and more. I could tell he was building up and he wouldn't last much longer. That thought sent me racing, as I reached down and started to stroke myself, as I began to build up.Then as we both neared the end, I decided to change it up and try something different. I pulled Tim out of my mouth, savoring one last suction of his head, as I stood up and straddled across. We were both shivering with cold, but knew better than to complain.Unwilling to break the sounds of nature, and deeply attuned to each other, we rarely speak aloud during our journey. Anything of interest could be communicated silently, like the sight of the gray-green giant salamander Zuri spotted disappearing into the water with a splash.After another hour of walking we emerged from the moraine forest into grassed foothills dotted with bright spots of winter alpine flowers. A meter-wide polished track of silver, its centerline marked with a groove as deep and wide as a fist, cut through the grass in the middle of the meadow, curving up and away on both sides of the habitat in a perfect circle. This was the border mother had fiercely defended, and the farthest forward we’d ever been permitted to travel aside from our single visit to the Cupola. Hidden from our view somewhere far along this track was Longshot’s gnomon, a tracked bronze triangle taller than Zuri standing on my.
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