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back to struggle out of her leggings and leopard-print knickers, careless of her braless breasts exposed by the wrenched-down vests. The cool air stiffened her nipples almost painfully, but she was far beyond caring now.
    “As long as we keep our distance,” Rocky said, pulling his belt taut with a crack before throwing it down on top of the jacket. “This isn’t the worst place for landslides by a long chalk—if you pardon the pun. The only earth moving around here is going to be underneath you, sweetheart.”
    He fell to his knees at the base of her rock and shoved her skirt up around her waist. Above her the cliffs looked as if they were falling, an illusion caused by white clouds travelling slowly behind them. Flipp imagined them collapsing on top of the pair, enveloping them in a cloud of chalk while she and Rocky continued to rut in the rubble, aware of nothing else but their animal need for each other. Her vision dissolved as his still-gloved hands roughly parted her thighs; she looked down at his face, handsomely savage, peering along the channel of her spread legs to salivate over their centre. Oh God , she thought suddenly, we’ve only just met and here we are, on a rock, with my muff staring him directly in the eye. Should I have waited? She looked again at his razor cheekbones and powerful shoulders and answered herself— no. Gift horses, mouths, all that . He was the sexiest man she had ever encountered. Letting him shrug and move on to the next willing partner was not an option.
    “Like what you see?” she asked, giving her hips a brazen little wiggle.
    “Oh yes,” he replied with relish, making to remove his gloves. Flipp meeped a little and tried to struggle up, shaking her head at him.
    “Keep them on?” she ventured.
    He laughed again, such richness and depth to his amusement. “Kinky girl, eh?” She blushed and shrugged as if to say she didn’t really care what he chose to do. “Good. That’s the way I like ’em. Okay, if it turns you on, sweetheart, I’ll keep the gloves.”
    He laid a leathery hand on each of her thighs, rubbing and massaging them, moving ever upwards until he arrived at the destination they both wanted. The leather was dry and smooth on her dewy fat lips; Flipp imagined it shining and sliding with her outpourings. His thumbs held the slit wide, ready for him to dip his head down and inhale the scent of her need for him. “Hmm, you don’t take long to heat up, do you, sweetheart?” Each word delivered a warm blast of breath over her clit. She moaned and squirmed, pleasurably ashamed, shamefully pleasured. One of his fingers, fat and thick in its hide coating, poked its way up inside her, digging and swivelling until it was clear there was room for one more. And then another. The three sleek black probes started out slowly but gained in pace, ramming back and forth while the thumb of his other hand attended to her clitoris. Pressure built up around his fingers until it was almost unbearable, and she knew she was going to explode messily all over his hands, too soon, much too soon. She needed to hang on…
    “You’re going to come, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he rasped, darting out his tongue to lap up the flowing juices, and hanging on flew out of the question just as Flipp’s orgasm flew out of her, drenching the leather and draining her body until she was twitching and spent on her rock. “Mmm, you couldn’t help yourself, could you?” he murmured admiringly. “Can I take these off now?” He removed his gloves, trailing the flapping fingers of the one that had finger-fucked her across Flipp’s cheeks and lips, right under her nose, treating her to her own strong scent, until a silvery web of her own essences crisscrossed her face.
    “I want to feel you,” he whispered, dropping the gloves and cupping her tits, with their swollen, sensitised nipples, in his large rough hands. His lips covered hers again, his tongue lunged, his hands squeezed and the lump