Written by Damian (August 2000)
She was to join him at the lake late on a weekday afternoon, timed so the work he was doing at the house would be completed just as she arrived.
She pulled into the driveway, and he called to her from the wooded area where he was working. He could see the tension melt from her face as she realized everything was okay and yet another one of their complicated plans was about to work out.
He walked to her, kissed her lightly on the lips, apologizing for his dirty hands while he helped her bring her things inside. He returned to the worksite, picked up the tools and finished what he could. He then returned to the cabin and washed up while she changed her clothes and settled in.
They talked of the everyday events that had occurred since they last saw one another three days before. The weather was perfect, as usual for them. Maybe it was just that they would fail to notice bad weather, but for the most part their plans always drew the sun, and today was no exception. There was little or no breeze and the temperature, under sunny skies, hovered in the eighties.
He wore a pair of lime green swim trunks that he had worn all day, with a white golf shirt. She had changed into a pair of tight jean shorts, with a minimal inseam, forest green in color, that they had picked out a few months before on one of their shopping trips. She had modeled them for him in a motel room, wearing nothing but the shorts.
Now, whenever he saw her in them, he flashed to the image of her standing before him, her firm breasts eagerly awaiting his touch, wearing the shorts. He had been able to look at her for a few moments, before he pulled her to him and they made love again. It was a wonderful image that he would always retain.
Her clothes would often remind him of their sexual encounters, and his mind would flash to the erotic scenes that followed their removal.
He told her that he wanted to take her on a boat trip before making the dinner that she had brought, and she quickly agreed. She loved being out on the water with him, she loved the sun; she loved watching him in what she thought was his more natural surroundings. She wished she could spend more time with him like this, when he was fully relaxed, casually dressed, and able to give his full attention to her.
He had already prepared the boat, which floated moored to the dock in the blue and calm waters of this sparkling mountain lake. She jumped in with an athletic grace that so few women could demonstrate, and he fired up the outboard, cast off the lines and backed the boat away from the dock.
The first part of the trip involved a low speed maneuver through a connecting stream to the big lake. The water here was shallow, often less than two feet in depth, and he needed to pay attention to the channel markings while they made their way through to their destination. He knew these waters well, but alternately kneeled or stood in the drivers seat so he could have a better angle over the bow of the fifteen foot craft as they made their way through the shallow waters which in spots left only inches of clearance for the prop.
They spoke mostly about the perfect day and how beauty around them, for he never tired of it and she loved it so, having grown up in the vicinity and having extensively canoed the area as a teen. He glanced over toward her as often as he could, for the sight of her was, to him, far better than even these exquisite surroundings. Her body was so firm, tight against her slim waist, with perfect legs and firm breasts.
She was about five foot three inches tall and weighed about a hundred and ten pounds, distributed in exactly the perfect proportions. On one such glance he could see her admiring his body, a fascination of hers that he could never quite understand, but one that was so flattering to him that he loved her all the more for her thoughts. For her part, she could not imagine that anyone so perfect could want her, and he thought the same about her. Maybe that was part of what made their relationship work so well, they were equally deluded about the others desirability.
He took the boat out into the big lake, and headed at full speed toward a secluded island that was the site of a single state owned camp site, which he knew would be uninhabited on this weekday. He watched her hair blow in the wind as they tried to converse over the roar of the boat's engine, and the sound of the wind whistling past them.
As he neared the island some five minutes later, he was grateful for the opportunity to cut the engine and slowly maneuver into the shallow sandy beach upon which he would ground the boat. He turned the engine off, let the boat glide onto the beach and then jumped out, pulling the craft securely onto the sand. She jumped off the bow onto the beach, and he escorted her around the site.
They stopped at a picnic table where they sat and spoke, and soon found themselves kissing with ever increasing passion. He knew he could have her right there, and she knew that she wanted to be taken, the sooner the better, and here provided a table that would provide many comfortable positions that she so enjoyed. He had other ideas, however, broke away, and took her by the hand,
"I want to show you my favorite place on this island," he said as he led her away from the table that they both knew bore so much promise.
She would go anywhere with him, and voiced no complaint, for she knew that if he had something else in mind, it would be better, because over the years she had learned just how carefully he planned and considered these kind of things. He led her down a small herd path that opened onto a massive granite rock that sloped down to the water. In several spots the rock face had eroded into smooth shelves, one of which was a mere foot above the waters surface, and actually supported a small patch of grass.
He led her there, sitting down and pulling her close next to him. They faced to the southwest, and the six o'clock sun beat down strongly on them, almost, but not quite, forcing them to shade their eyes as they gazed over the blue water that glistened in the sun.
"Well, what do you think?" he asked. She looked over the water to the mountains rising in the distance, in green contrast to the two blues of the sky and the water and said,
"It�s beautiful, almost too perfect."
It was. He had been here before with the family, because the children loved climbing on the rocks and exploring the island. Each time that he came here he thought of her, each time he hoped to bring her here to show her the beauty, each time he knew how she would react and he lived in anticipation of the moment.
It had finally arrived. He put his left arm around her shoulders and she snuggled in closely to him. They were each bursting to have one another while bathing in nature's beauty.
He kissed her neck, moving along behind her ear, and then back along below her jawbone to the other side. He knew how much she liked kissing and this playful but sensuous preliminary was rewarded with her gentle moans, only audible to him because of his proximity.
He could feel her relaxing, as she let all the tension run from her body. She allowed him to take control, for her trust in him had become so complete that she would allow him to do anything he wanted, and she could be secure in the knowledge that she not only would be safe, but would enjoy herself as she never had before.
Each time they were together was better than the last, and each time she so looked forward to the next. As their tongues touched for the first time she thought back to the first kiss, some five years before, the one she knew was wrong but the one that she would always remember, the one that immediately told her that she was in real trouble.
For as much as she knew it was wrong, she had wanted more, and each time she had more, it wasn't enough. She had come to realize that she needed him and was willing to risk all she had to be with him.
They kissed in the sunshine, while a half mile across the lake empty houses stood on the hillside, and in the great open vastness of the lake they were secreted. He unbuttoned her shirt, with the ease that she so enjoyed, and he licked and sucked her unrestrained nipples, which quickly grew with desire.
She longed for him to take her, to tear off her clothes and drive his cock into her, but he insisted on the slow buildup that she loved, as the floods of desire overcame her, as her now audible moans of pleasure escaped. Her shorts were unbuttoned, her front zipper opened, and his fingers found her wet pussy, so ready and so desirous of the strokes that he administered to her clitoris.
She knew that she would soon lose all control, giving in to the loud, screaming orgasm that he so wanted, and that she so wanted to give. As her orgasm overwhelmed her, he whispered in her ear,
"Oh, that's my girl; yes, that's my girl," and she so wanted to be his and his alone. She wanted to be free of all their entanglements, free to be his, she wanted him to be free to be hers.
As she returned from the netherland where her orgasm had sent her he maneuvered her onto his lap, so that she now sat facing him, shirt and shorts undone, her legs bent at the knees, and he now once again kissed her neck and breasts.
She moved her pussy against his hard cock, against which she rubbed, bringing herself back toward yet another orgasm. He kissed her deeply, and then whispered in her ear, "Let's get your shorts off."
She didn't even hesitate. She kneeled in front of him, slipped the shorts and her panties over her hips, and then sat in his lap as she allowed him to remove the garments from her slender legs. He put them down next to them and she swung one leg over him, opening herself shamelessly to him.
He gasped in anticipation of what was about to occur, lifting his hips up so that his bathing suit could be slid off sufficiently to free his now enormous penis, which had been straining against the elasticized waist band of his trunks.
She quickly took hold of his organ in her delicate hands, sliding him into her with a visible joy that he so appreciated. She sat over him, her legs bent at the knees, driving herself down onto him, feeling the pleasure of his depth, feeling the sun gently baking her back as she kissed him again and again.
He knew he could not hold back for long against her unrestrained passion and he so wanted to have her come again before he did, so he took his left hand, which had been pulling her firm ass tightly to him, and found her clitoris with his forefinger. On his first stroke she moaned loudly, and now on each successive stroke her moans grew. In the distance a boat passed by, and hearing its engine she said,
"Can they see?"
"I don't care" he gasped in return, and although she did she simply could not stop.
As the boat's motor faded into the distance her orgasm began, and as she continued to come he released himself from his self imposed restraint, exploding into her with a force that he had only felt with her, feeling several bursts course through his body, until the last few hurt, but he tried to continue, maintaining as much of his erection as possible.
Her orgasm grew as she felt him erupt, both feeling and hearing his release, knowing she had pleased him as no other could as wave after wave of indescribable pleasure overwhelmed her body. When her orgasm finished she collapsed into his arms, and they sat exhausted in the sun, gently kissing, never wanting the moment to end.
Neither would ever forget the closeness they felt, each would cherish the moment forever. Eventually the almost scary closeness of the moment would wear off, and they would look into each others eyes, smiling joyfully, unable to restrain the unbridled happiness that each gave one another.
They had known that they would never duplicate the pleasure that they could provide one another elsewhere, they marveled at how their sexual desires overlapped. Outdoor sexual encounters such as this had given them such great freedom, unleashed them from the world and allowed them to thumb their noses at all convention.
They returned to the cabin, unable to contain the mindless grins that had spread across their faces. They would cook diner, eat, clean up and then barely make it to the couch before they were again in each others arms, coming hard again and collapsing into a state of exhaustion. They played Scrabble, just finishing the game before they had to make love again, on the floor where moments before the game board had been spread.
And then once again before sleep, as if any missed opportunity would be forever lost, as it surely would since they never really knew if this time would be their last, as the chances of a suspicious spouse finding out always lingered just beyond their conscience being.
He got up at nine, and they again coupled, her having her eighth orgasm by his count, and when they were done he told her to sleep for a while and he would do some outside work. They had a late brunch together and she told him that she had to leave. She showered and he watched while she pulled on a pair of black lycra tights and a lace see through tank top over which she placed a large sweatshirt.
He couldn�t believe how sexy she appeared to him. He wanted to take off her clothes and make love to her again, but he knew she had to go. He couldn�t bear the loneliness when she left. He couldn't wait to see her again, and to have her again as soon as he could.
Nude Dancer, 1900
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This spectacular 1900 photo of a nude dancer doing the splits is by
photographer Henri Oltramare. I found it on Mastodon with descriptive text
by abanana...
21 hours ago
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