The band's encore faded out and the final set for the night came to an end. Pumped-up festival-goers began to pour out of the arena looking to take the party elsewhere – probably to a field somewhere, in true country style. I took one look at the human traffic jam at the arena gates and decided to stay put and wait out the crowd. As the crowd thinned, I noticed the blanket of red plastic cups and other rubbish that had been discarded all over the grassy arena. Still buzzed with energy from the set, I decided I may as well pick up some of the rubbish – I had no chance of fitting into the first few shuttle busses back to the festival campground anyway.
I found myself in a world of my own as I hummed to the beat of the songs stuck in my head, still in the euphoric glow felt only after a live concert. Though my ears were still ringing, the outdoor arena was peaceful, almost eerie without the lively pulsations that reverberate through the arena when packed with a passionate crowd.
Completely alone in the arena, time had slipped away. I had cleared a large area of rubbish and felt confident in my efforts. I checked my phone and realised that more time than I thought had passed.
Ahh, shit...how is it already 1.30am?! The last shuttle bus was 1am.
With a nice long moonlit walk ahead of me, I felt lucky that it was a calm night. Aware of the distance to camp, I opted to sit down, rest my legs for a while, and rehydrate myself with my water bottle.
The quiet stillness that had peacefully surrounded me was shattered by a voice close behind me. I jumped, startled – I had not heard anyone approach and there I was, alone (or so I thought) in an unfamiliar place, in the early hours of the morning.
My mind flashed picture cards of every ill-fate I could meet. I craned my neck and peered over my shoulder.
A tall dark figure blocked out the light that beamed from poles that surrounded the arena. I squinted as I attempted in vain to make out any features. That face was completely shielded by the deep black shadow of a large cowboy hat.
The faceless figure spoke again, voice deep and velvety with a Southern twang. He outstretched his hand and gestured toward the ground beside me, as his other hand reached up to remove his hat. Soft white light cascaded over his features as the eclipse from his hat lifted.
Oh shit... it was Morgan Bryant! The Morgan Bryant – my absolute favourite country music artist I had specifically flown all the way from Australia to see.
“Mind if I sit?”
All I could do was nod... then panic as I realised the nod could have suggested that I did, in fact, mind. I stuttered, “Sure, uh... yes... please sit.”
My face burned bright red as I realised I had just told THE Morgan Bryant to “sit” as though I was commanding my two cattle dogs – Diesel and Dixie – back home on the farm.
Morgan let out a chuckle as he sat. “I detect an accent... Australian, right?”
I nodded.
“I’m Morgan.” He reached his hand out towards me; his introduction humoured me... as if I wouldn’t know who he was.
“Tess.” I went to shake his hand, but instead my hand was scooped up and gently kissed. I blushed again, skin flushed all over from a sudden rush of powerful heat conjured by such a quick feeling of lips.
“So, Tess, what brings you all the way to Nashville?”
I dared not tell him that I had flown over twenty-seven hours here to see him. Quick thinking only provided the answer of, “Ahh, the festival had been on my Bucket List for so long, I figured ‘why not?’ right?”
Well, it wasn’t a complete lie.
“Well, I’m glad you did...” he flashed his perfect, white teeth.
“Are you?” I retorted, mainly as reflex.
“Yes... well, we wouldn’t have met otherwise, now, would we?” he quipped, as a confident smirk formed on his face, one that was genuine and intimate as if we'd known each other for some time rather than the practiced smiles and smirks he has to give when interviewed.
I couldn’t help but smile. My vibrant green eyes looked down to where my Ariat boots rested outstretched in front of me. Consumed by shyness, I brushed a thick stray lock of wavy, chocolate-coloured hair back over my tanned shoulder. The sunshine yellow sundress that covered my body perfectly showcased my sun-kissed golden tan, even in the unnatural fluorescent lights that encircled the arena.
Morgan sensed my shyness and changed the subject. He asked for me to tell him about myself. I was hesitant at first... Why would Morgan want to know about me? After a deep breath, I spoke about my life, living and working on a family wheat and cattle farm in Australia. Morgan seemed to be genuinely interested as he listened intently, keen to know more and more. Time seemed to no longer be a measure of how long had passed; instead, it was only when a yawn escaped my lips that I knew it was past bedtime.
Morgan mocked my yawn and joked that he was boring me. I laughed and reassured him that I was having a great time talking to him, but confessed that I should start the walk back to camp and get some sleep. Morgan, unwilling to let a young Australian walk back alone at night, insisted that he would walk with me.
The walk felt short – much shorter than it actually was – in the warm moonlight. The road was completely deserted; the only movement was the gentle flutter of the leaves as a soft breeze gently touched the line of trees either side of the road. We walked slowly; the sound of our boots clicked in unison as we went step-for-step along the smooth black road. The soft breeze was just enough to coax goose-bumps onto my bronzed surface. Morgan offered up his denim jacket. As I draped it over my shoulders, the warmth and masculine aroma made me feel safe and secure, despite the darkness and unfamiliar environment. Even though I was in the most unfamiliar land I've ever ventured to, I just felt completely safe with him. Most of the "men" I knew weren't really much of men. Out here, they'd either get scared or complain about being cold. Not Morgan, though.
As we climbed the final hill before camp, Morgan stopped still. I stopped too, to make sure he was okay. He was silent for a few fleeting moments, before he reached out and grasped my hand.
“I want to show you something.”
Morgan pulled me from the road and into the dense trees. He charged ahead and pulled me along behind him. I stumbled my way along the overgrown single-width track, until the forestry opened up to reveal a large open area on top of the hill. The view was breathtaking. To the left, the soft glow of small bonfires dotted between tents lit up the campground; to the right, a large body of water spanned as far as I could see. The light and reflection from the moon shattered on the surface, fragments of light shimmering like glitter particles. It was eerily peaceful.
“So beautiful...” his voice cut through the air like a hot knife through butter, as he stood beside me.
“It’s stunning...so peaceful,” I replied, unable to pull my eyes away from the lake.
“I meant you... you’re beautiful.”
I pried my eyes away from the view and turned my head to look at Morgan. His eyes were already locked on my face. I blushed so hard that I was certain the crimson glow of my cheeks would have illuminated the night sky.
We entered an unspoken stare-off, eyes transfixed on each other. My heartbeat was felt through my body, as it pumped fast and strong. Morgan made the first move as he leaned in slowly. It felt like an eternity, but finally our lips touched. My heart soared; butterflies exploded from the pit of my stomach. Instinctively, we both moved together, our bodies pressed against each other. My body was alight as electricity transmitted from between Morgan’s lips on mine flowed down my body. Our tongues danced a happy dance. Neither Morgan nor I could will ourselves to break the kiss and pull away. When we eventually separated, Morgan was first to speak.
“I’ve been dying to do that all night!”
I laughed, “So that’s why you bought me up here... to seduce me?”
He winked, and then fell serious, “I just love this place and wanted to share it with you...” Within his pause, I smiled. “...the kiss was just a bonus.”
Morgan pulled me in for another kiss and once again, it was bliss. I still couldn’t quite believe I was locking lips with Morgan freaking Bryant! As the kiss broke, I reached up and stole his cowboy hat from his head and placed it on mine with a laugh.
Morgan smiled, “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
“Geez, two kisses and you’re already trying to take me to bed, Rockstar?” My jaw dropped playfully, feigning shock as I punctuated my words with a gasp. It was Morgan’s turn to blush, and he didn’t disappoint. Oh, how the tables had turned.
Despite shared knowledge spoken of my need to sleep, neither of us made the effort to leave.
The air around us had started to fall cold enough to light a small fire. It took the edge off and warmed our legs.
A short while after lighting the fire, Morgan stood up and disappeared into the trees behind me. I figured he went to collect another piece of wood, until he reappeared with a black hooded jumper in his hand. He slipped the piece of clothing over his head. It was then that I noticed he no longer had his hat. I giggled awkwardly and expressed my confusion as to how his hat had transformed into a hoodie. I joked that he could add ‘magician’ to his resume. Morgan chuckled before he gestured over his shoulder and sheepishly confessed, “Ahh, I have a tent over there.”
Morgan explained that his lifelong love of camping and being outdoors never waned, but that his schedule of festivals and tours had not allowed him to go camping much. Morgan confessed that he would sneak his camping gear along wherever he could, which remained unnoticed by his manager, Steven, who always insists Morgan sleeps only in pre-booked hotel rooms. Completely amused, I questioned how it was possible that Steven was oblivious to this scheme. Morgan explained that he would sneak out and set up camp during the day, then after his set on stage, he would go back to the hotel, say ‘goodnight’ to Steven, tussle the bedding, grab some items from the mini-bar and sneak out to his tent hidden nearby. Morgan laughed that he would always make sure to be back in the room before Steven woke up. I was in hysterics, completely entertained by what I had just heard.
Eventually I found my head snuggled into Morgan’s chest, his arm draped around my shoulder. I could hear his heart beating away, slow and consistent, as we both watched the fire crackling in front of us. Morgan periodically rubbed his hand up and down my arm, and my mind began to wander... what would it feel like if his denim jacket wasn’t the buffer between my skin and his? What would it feel like trailing down my naked back while I rocked back and forth, impaled on his masculine frame? The ease of the jump between innocent thoughts and the dirty thoughts surprised me. Suddenly I was feeling hot under the collar, and not from the fire. I ached to kiss him again, to taste his mouth on mine. I looked up just as he looked down. That was my chance, and oh boy, did I take it!
A passionate, feverish kiss ignited between us. My hand moved on its own accord; I could feel the zip in Morgan’s jeans as my hand rubbed back and forth over his dark denim-clad groin. I felt the hardness swelling beneath my palm, and squeezed gently, careful not to hurt him. He moaned into my mouth. A sharp pain shocked my bottom lip as Morgan nipped at it with his perfect teeth. My inner sanctum twitched, a core that had already been slowly warming now ignited.
When Morgan and I finally took a breath and pulled away slightly, we were breathless. I instantly noticed the dark glaze covering his beautiful eyes. Overtaken by primal ache, Morgan pushed me back and onto the flat ground behind me. I was sandwiched between Morgan’s body and the earth below me. His weight pressed down on my body; it was almost hard to breathe, but in the best way. As gravity slipped the skirt of my sundress further up my thighs, I wrapped my bare legs around Morgan’s hips and held him in close. I could feel his fully-clothed bulge pressing against the dampened gusset of my panties.
Time seemed to slow as Morgan wiggled until I released my grip. He slowly retreated down my body; he further raised the hem of my dress. A guttural moan escaped his lips. In the flickering glow of the fire, I caught sight of his tongue as it darted out and slid its way across his lips. Apparently he approved of my choice of underwear – a dark blue lacy thong.
He lowered his head and inhaled as he savoured the moment, before he gently kissed my stomach, thighs and then finally, my sweet spot through my thong. I pulsed as I silently pleaded to feel his tongue on my bare slit. He didn’t make me wait long. His finger delicately and expertly slipped beneath the thin gusset of my thong and moved it aside. One gentle kiss on my bare pubis let me know it was going to happen. Morgan’s silky tongue glided along my warm, wet crevice, as he began to lap up the liquid anticipation he had coaxed from deep within me, throughout the night.
As his tongue lapped and fingers stretched my flooding tunnel, I felt myself edging closer to orgasm. He sensed that I was honing in on my release and formed an airtight seal over my swollen nub; his tongue flicked feverishly. An uncontrollable wave of pleasure washed over my convulsing body. Morgan wisely chose to change his technique to a gentle caress, to avoid overwhelming me as my sensitivity peaked. He waited patiently for my rollercoaster to finish, before he removed his mouth.
In that blissful release I let out the smallest whimper, body crying out immediately from the sudden absence of him.
He paused for a breath and a quick, cheeky smile. The skin around his mouth caught the flickering firelight, the sparkle not unlike winter dew glistening on the crops in the dawn sunlight back home on the farm. His tongue darted out again on a gentle victory lap of my slit; he collected the remainder of his liquid earnings. His tongue glided effortlessly over my smooth skin, as my nerve endings continued to tingle in the aftermath of orgasm.
An undefined amount of time passed, and my breath and heart rate returned to normal. Morgan escorted me, albeit on still slightly shaky legs, the short distance back to his tent. Inside, the tent was warm and cosy.
I wasted no time, as I discarded my clothing and snuggled up amongst the mountain of blankets. Morgan was not far behind me, as he joined me in his bed. Our bodies slotted together perfectly, like adjoining pieces of the same puzzle. In that moment, I was completely content... so why couldn’t I sleep?
The reason for my sleeplessness quickly became obvious, and I was reminded of one very hard reason, as it poked into my lower back. With every slight movement, our skin-to-skin contact caused the desire to burn deep. An internal tug-of-war was ignited between the need for sleep and the need to feel him inside me, to please and pleasure him like he had just done for me. As two of the most basic human needs competed, I already knew deep down just which hunger would I satiate first.
