After my morning on the water with Sam, I headed back to the cabin in a much better mood. Not only did I have two fantastic bass on my stringer, but my body was pleasantly sore from an hour of intense sex with a lithe 20-year old.
The wives had gone shopping, the kids were off with Lindsey somewhere, and the weather was perfect. My two cousins were relaxing on the screen porch, Jim on his laptop doing something for work and Bill reading on the hammock. I said hello cheerfully, then went off to clean the fish and take a shower myself. They thought I was simply happy about the fish!
That shower, by the way, is my favorite spot. The cabin has a perfectly good bathroom, but the outdoor shower is exceptional. It is situated on the back corner of the house, away from all the windows and decks and bedrooms. Built of sturdy cedar, it has privacy slats from ankle to shoulder height, a teak floor that drains into gravel, and an old-fashioned showerhead that blasts you like a firehose. I love nothing better than to let that water pound down on me while I sip from a beer set on the weathered ledge and look out into the pine forest. A narrow inlet runs up beside the house, and in the morning, the mist crawls up from there and trickles across the tawny carpet of pine needles that surrounds the property.
Anyway, this day was no exception. I sipped a cold local microbrew, lathered myself while thinking of Sam’s delicious body touching mine, and then rested my forearms on the top ledge and gazed out into the quiet woods. I had no regrets except that I had to return to my actual life and my actual wife. Still, that memory would sustain me through a lot of unsatisfying nights!
By the time I got out, the women were home with the groceries and Lindsey was helping them unpack so she could make lunch. The kids were splashing at the edge of the lake, and I finished my beer while I kept an eye on them and laughed at their innocent fun.
“Want another beer with your sandwich?” said a voice behind me.
Turning, I saw Lindsay holding a tall can dripping with condensation in one hand and a tall plate of food in the other.
“Absolutely!” I said with a grateful smile, reaching out to take both.
“How was the fishing?” she asked innocently, her eyes gleaming.
My eyes darted around, but none of the others seemed interested.
“It was amazing!” I told her with a grin of my own. “Probably the best morning ever.”
“I’m so glad. Sam really knows where to find the big ones.”
Sometimes I wish I was smooth. When Lindsey said that, I had just taken a sip and the icy cold beer went down the wrong pipe entirely. Double entendres do that to me sometimes! I choked and coughed, my eyes streaming while I tried not to spill anything. Lindsey thoughtfully took my can and plate out of my hands and put them down on a nearby table. After a minute, I recovered while everyone either laughed at me or asked if I was OK.
“I’m fine...I’m fine!” I reassured them all.
Turning to Lindsey again, I asked if there was any way I could repay Sam for such a great morning. She said she’d think about it and then disappeared inside.
“I’m glad you guys had a good fishing trip,” my wife said as she sat down across from me.
“It was really nice out there--did you see the fish?” I said, changing the subject away from Sam and my morning activities.
“I did--that will make for a good dinner,” she said with a smile.
“That’s the plan!” I told her, rising to clear my plate.
That evening, the house was amazingly quiet. I was putting the last of the plates into the dishwasher. Jim and Bill had gone to town with their wives, the kids were watching a movie with Lindsey in the den, and (of course) my wife was listening to a podcast--family code for “going to bed early so leave me alone.” I was playing music softly and working on a tall can of beer as I finished cleaning the kitchen. When everything was done, it was 9:30 and the sunset over the lake had faded to full darkness. I went out onto the deck to enjoy the emerging stars and think back over the incredible day I had experienced.
About a half hour later, the screen door creaked. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Lindsey framed in the light, holding a can of beer. Not wanting to gawk, I took a mental snapshot of that instant to enjoy later. White sneakers, calf-length yoga pants, form-fitting tank top, lightly tanned arms and shoulders, and dark blonde hair caught up in a loose, low ponytail. Delicious.
To make it less obvious that I was scoping her out, I threw out a line to distract her: “Hey--are you drinking all my beer behind my back?”
She smirked, knowing full well what I was up to.
“I’m drinking your beer right in front of you--can’t you see that?” White teeth flashed in the shadow of her face.
“Right. That’s much better,” I said sarcastically.
She took a few quick steps and arranged herself in an Adirondack chair beside me. When her sneakers settled onto the footrest, she crossed her ankles and sighed deeply.
“Those kids wore me out today!”
“You do a great job with them,” I told her. “I don’t know what we’d do without you!”
Lindsey’s eyes flashed and I could see another kind of smile on her face.
“I heard you did great without me this morning!” she said teasingly.
“Uh...” was my brilliant response.
“Don’t worry--Sam’s my best friend. We tell each other everything, and she texted me a full report. I’m just glad you got to have some fun!” she said, glancing meaningfully down the wall of windows to the bedroom where my wife was sleeping, then back at me with raised eyebrows.
“It was fun,” I told her earnestly, “and I guess I have you to thank for that!”
