Chapter 3
Thursday
Given the circumstances, I could be forgiven for the late start in the morning. The sun was well-up when I dragged on some cutoffs and a t-shirt (same cutoffs, fresh shirt). There were a couple of breakfast burritos left, but the hash browns were history. The coffee pot was empty, and I decided that just wouldn't do. While waiting for the next pot to brew, I grabbed a burrito and checked to see where everyone was. In the living room, Marc and Lisa were being sociable, talking with Gina and Keith about movies; Rebecca and Kristin shared coffee on the porch, and Bryan stood on the dock, toweling off after an early morning swim. When they spied me, Marc called me over to weigh in on their film debate. By the time that was done, the entire group occupied the living room. After a half hour of "I dunno, what do you want to do?", we settled on going for a walk before it got too hot. We returned in time for Kristin and I to put sloppy joes together for lunch.
"I didn't get a chance to ask before, " she said as she pulled out the drinks, "are you still wearing what you used to wear under those cutoffs?" Back when we dated, she discovered my habit of going commando in those frayed denim shorts.
"Pretty much." I usually told her "only one way to find out," but this time... even though what we were to each other hadn't been nailed down yet, I didn't think 'Becca would appreciate the dare that my former girlfriend occasionally took me up on.
"Not even going to make me guess, hmm?" She set the drinks out with a slight smirk on her face. Then she took the spatula from my hand and pushed me out of the way, taking my place at the stove. I set about putting out odds and ends while she finished browning the ground beef and poured in the sauce. Leaning against the counter, I took a swig of water -- an action I expect she had been waiting for.
"You know, Rebecca's on the pill."
A minute later, I was laying out paper towels to soak up the water I had spewed, while Kristin struggled to contain her laughter. When she quieted down, I pointed asked, "Why are you telling me that bit of news?"
"I just thought it might be relevant." She busied herself with lunch lest the sight of my face send her into another paroxysm of laughter.
"How do you know this?"
"Girls talk about that kind of thing, doofus. She stresses easily, and it throws her cycle off. She's been on them at least since she started college."
"What else did she tell you?"
Kristin relented. "That she slipped into your room for a romantic encounter. No real details -- no matter how hard I tried," she teased. "But she wasn't ready to go all the way. I'm just telling you, she could if she was ready to." she turned and put her hands on my shoulders. "If you do decide to pursue this, go easy on her. You know what's she's like."
"And I know what she's been through. I'll do my best."
"I know you will." Kristin gave me a quick kiss, smiled conspiratorially, and turned to the call the others for lunch.
Thursday Night
We had a tradition at the lakehouse. One night-- usually the last -- was skinny dipping. I remember the first time we tried it: newly graduated, ready to do something wild and crazy. We spent most of the venture standing around chest-deep in the water. Now, we'd relaxed enough to actually enjoy the experience. Friends swam, laughed, occasionally tickle-fought, and generally had a good time. The moon hadn't risen, so the porch lights and a million stars were the only illumination. Everyone (except Keith, who was in his room reading) stripped down and jumped off the dock. It was less about being naughty and more about being free. Even Marc and Lisa moved in separate orbits, joking and swimming. At one point, Kristin decided she wanted to inner tube that Bryan lounged in. She teasingly demanded that a man should always give up his seat for a lady. Marc retorted that a man's float is his castle. In short order, the was a king of the hill situation, men versus women. In the splashing that ensued, I took possession of the prize for a brief shining moment before Lisa and Rebecca flipped me back into the water.
The flurry subsided, and Bryan graciously ceded the spoils to Kristin. Panting, everyone settled back to catch their breath and enjoy the night. I retreated to the shadow of the dock. I had been half-hard for most of the day, thinking about Rebecca; on the chilly water and the distraction of the competition kept me soft when I was exposed during my moment of glory on the inner tube.
I saw Rebecca break away from the milling crowd, peering this way and that, as if looking for someone. I momentarily leaned out into the weak light before pulling back into shadow. She saw the movement and swam towards me. As she came alongside, I pulled her against me, holding on to the dock with my free arm.
"Careful," I whispered. "It's not safe for pretty damsels to swim in these parts. Shadowy characters lurk here."
"Do I look like I'm in distress?"
"Quick," I hissed. "Grab the dock with both hands." I loosened my grip and pretended I was about to go under. Her hands shot up to grab the planks.
"Silly damsel," I said in my best wicked wolf tone, "You're about to be in distress." I grasped her waist with both hands; my mouth targeted a breast floating just beneath the surface. She gasped.
"What are you *doing*?!" she hissed.
"Distressing you." Her nipple, already erect in the cool water, grew more pointed in my mouth.
"People are *right over there*!"
"Don't worry, I won't make you cum. Just making sure you'll be thinking about me tonight."
"I'll come over, okay? Please!"
I pulled back. I grasped the dock, and she wrapped her arms tight around me... and her legs as well.
"That was very mean," she whispered against my shoulder.
"Well, it was no picnic for me either."
"I can tell," she said, flexing her hips. My erection was pinned against her nether lips. She shuddered, and moved her hips again, dragging herself up and down the length of my hardness. Rebecca took up a steady rhythm against me. My thoughts started to misfire as she pleasured us both. It wouldn't have taken much to shift slightly and push into her, but even with her simply rubbing against me, I was too turned on to last long.
"'Becca? What about the people?"
"Sor--sorry. Can't stop," she gasped, trembling. She clasped me tighter. I felt myself swelling, and in very short order, I stiffened, wracked with my orgasm. It's a wonder I managed to hold on to the dock.
Feeling my climax triggered her own. Her grip grew so tight I couldn't breathe, and then I felt sharp pain lance through my shoulder as she bit down to contain her cries. I put my free arm around her, which was just as well; when she relaxed her death grip, she nearly slipped under the dark surface. I looked away from her starlit face to see if we had attracted any attention. The others were splashing and cavorting again; apparently Marc had said something mock-rude and instigated a free-for-all.
"Are you okay?" I asked quietly. She was wrapped around me again. I could feel the occasional twitch down there, but her breathing was nearly back to normal.
"I got carried away." She had an almost goofy smile on her face. If I didn't know any better, I would have said she was stoned. "I'm been turned on all day."
"Me, too."
