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Someone For Her


Carina had a broad face with a pleasant smile. I noticed
her name stenciled on the front of her T-shirt. She probably
had Scandinavian grandparents with her blond hair and
full breasts. She would have looked good in a dress that
showed cleavage, but she also had the muscle to portage
a canoe.

I wouldn't have been daydreaming about her if my former
girlfriend hadn't backed out of our camping trip at
the last minute. She finally realized that a canoe trip
in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area did not include daily
clean sheets and hot tubs. My plans for a week of pristine
lakes, dazzling sunsets and lots of sex in northern Minnesota
had turned into a solo canoe trip with a good digital camera
and a few paperback books.

Carina's simple question broke the thread of my daydreaming.

"Do you want me to check your equipment?" She
asked, oblivious of the possible double entendre.

"That won't be necessary, if you know what I'm
packing." I replied, trying not to be too obvious
about the private joke.

"I didn't do the packing." She said, without
taking the bait. "You can trust Mike, but I won't."

There was obviously a back story there. But she wasn't
in the mood to tell me about it.

"Remember to use the propane stove for all you're
cooking. It's a park service regulation."

"OK" I replied nicely enough, but I was barely
listening to her go through the formalities of rules and
regulations. I pretended that she was telling me about
her sexual fantasies, which made the obligatory conversation
go by quickly.

"This is a lot of gear for one person. Can you carry
it all?"

"The original plans were for two. You want to come?"

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wished that I could
have sucked them back in. My love life -- or lack of it -- was
not her concern. It was one thing to idly daydream and another
to be boorish.

She had the most tactful of all possible responses. She
ignored me.

"You'll have to plan a route with fewer portages.
It'll take you a couple of trips to carry all of this
stuff. Are you experienced?"

Was she experienced? That was the question I asked myself,
but I chose the response that wouldn't get me in further

"Yes. I've canoed the BWCA a number of times,
included a couple of times solo. I'll spend the first
night near the Gull Lake portage."

I pointed to a spot on the map that I had used a couple of times
in the past.

"I've seen moose swimming across the lake at
this point. I'd like to get some photos with my new camera.
If it rains, I'll just read the books that I brought
along. Thanks for asking."

Satisfied that I was going to be able to take care of myself,
she gave me a receipt for the remainder of my bill and helped
me to carry the bulging Duluth packs down to the canoe. It
was early afternoon by the time that I launched, but my first
campsite was only a couple hours of easy paddling across
the lake.

After I had set up camp and unpacked my gear, I began to wish
that I'd taken her advice and checked the gear before
I left. The cook stove and the propane tanks were in the pack,
but the propane tanks were nearly empty. If I used them for
cooking, they would be empty in one to two days. I would either
have to go back to get full tanks or cook over an open fire
to save the propane for rainy days. I made my decision quickly.
I collected some dry branches from farther back in the forest
and made a fire on a large flat rock that I could wash clean
when I broke camp the next day.

It was well after dusk when I saw her coming across the lake.
I turned on a flashlight as a signal, but I think she could
have found me in the dark. She landed her canoe and pulled
it up on shore before I could lend her a hand. She wore the
same green T-shirt and khaki shorts that she had on earlier
when she helped me pick up my gear at the outfitters.

"I see you found a solution to the empty propane tanks.
You made the fire small and hidden to avoid attracting the
ranger's attention. No fire hazard. It looks like
you can take care of yourself."

I acknowledged the compliment with a nod. I was a bit confused
about why she had come. She had figured out that the propane
tanks in my gear were empty when she found the full tanks
in the back room and no empty tanks in the used gear that had
been turned in that day. That still didn't explain
why she had come. No one in their right mind paddles across
the lake at night to drop off propane tanks. Paddling at
night is not all that dangerous. It just was something that
you didn't do except in an emergency -- and my propane
tanks were only an inconvenience.

"You're not going to paddle back in the dark,
are you?" I asked.

"I wasn't planning on it. I intend to take a dip
in the lake to clean up and then where I sleep is up to you.
I brought my own sleeping bag but I hope I don't need

The boldness of her proposal took my breath away. Before
I could answer, she had dropped her shorts and pulled off
her top. She stood in front of me in a sensible bra and cotton
panties. She seemed intent to finish undressing as I spoke.

"You're kidding?" I replied, but I hoped
she wasn't. "These lakes never get warm and the
sun has gone down. You'll freeze."

She paused for a moment to consider my warnings and then
she reached behind her to undo the clasp of her bra. She leaned
forward slightly with her arms outstretched as her bra
slid off her shoulders and down her arms. Her young breasts
bounced with her movements. She looked at me with her sweet
smile as she continued to undress. With a smooth stooping
motion, she pushed her panties below her knees and then
stood up straight as they floated down her legs to her ankles.
The soft tufts of hair above her pubes almost glowed in the
lingering twilight. The effect of her nakedness on me was
not lost on her. She appeared to be enjoying my discomfort.

I had been propositioned a couple of times in my life, but
those women had been drunk. I was not bad looking. I had played
baseball at a small college. I knew how to take care of myself
in the wilderness, but that skill had just lost me a girlfriend
who liked hot showers before sex. Here was this beautiful
stranger who promised a night of sex in exchange for a quick
dip in ice water. I would never get another chance this easy.

"Don't worry about the water. You won't
get so cold that I can't warm you up."

That was all the encouragement that I needed. I nearly ripped
my cloths off. She just stood there watching me undress.
Then we were standing naked only a few inches apart. We had
still not touched. No awkward moments slipping my arm around
her shoulder in a movie theater. No trying to get her aroused
by touching her breast through her blouse. There we were
- naked.

Leaning forward ever so slightly, she brushed her nipples
against my chest. This was the real thing. I had gotten lucky.
I pulled her into me until her breasts flattened out on my
chest. She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me. She
offered no resistance as my tongue slipped over her lips.
I would have gone down on her right then but she pushed me
away gently. Giving my cock a playful squeeze, she turned
and walked into the water.

When the water was around her waist, she crouched down and
began laughing hysterically. I had followed her into the
water and let out a whoop as the cold water hit my testicles.
My penis was so shriveled that I could have hidden it completely
with my thumb. But I wanted what she was offering so I followed
her lead and crouched down until the water was around my
neck. The shock of the cold water was overpowering. Not
even the promise of sex with a beautiful stranger could
keep me in the water for another second. I grabbed her hand
and pulled her into shore.

We stood there in the night air. Our naked bodies shivered
involuntarily. She laughed again and threw her arms around
my neck. Her body had felt warm and soft only a few minutes
before. Now she was cold and rough to my touch. The promise
of sex had warped my perceptions. This cold mass of shivering
flesh in my arms was still my wet dream come true.

"Now we're ready for some good clean fun."
She flashed her smile. "Let's get in the tent
and I'll warm you up."

We wrapped ourselves in the sleeping bags. She was right
about the dip in the lake. She smelled wonderful. The cold
water had scoured away the sweat of a day's work hauling
gear and paddling canoes. Her skin tingled as my hand ran
along her thigh. I could feel the firmness of her muscles
toned by a summer of work outdoors.

I ran my hand further up her inner thigh until I reached the
place where I wanted my cock to be. She protested and clamped
her legs together tightly. No matter how appealing in theory
a hand laid gently on her pussy might seem, the reality of
our situation was that my hands were as cold as ice and her
vagina was clamped shut.

We giggled. There was no other word for it. Then we snuggled
tighter. Protests and squirming followed the attempts
of cold fingers to explore sensitive areas. For each minute
that passed, the protests became weaker and the explorations
more bold. After several minutes of wiggling around together,
we were at last getting warm enough to become intimate.

I stroked her breasts. My fingers were still cool on her
skin, but she no longer pulled away from my touch. I felt
the hint of warmth as her palm laid on the delicate skin of
my shriveled scrotum. My testicles were still safely sucked
up inside, but my penis had begun to reappear and was slowly
becoming semi-hard. She rolled the tip gently between
her fingers and pumped it up another inch. I had never been
so aroused with so little cock to show for it.

Satisfied with the results of her attention to my woody,
she pressed her body against mine and kissed me with an open
mouth. I could feel the tip of her tongue. My tongue played
with hers, and then I chased her tongue back over her lips.

She rolled on top of me without breaking the kiss. The full
length of our bodies pressed into each other. She broke
the kiss but offered a hard nipple to my waiting lips. Then
she arched her back lifting her breasts out of the reach
while grinding her lush thatch into my groin.

My cock probed between the folds of her labia hunting for
an entrance to her love hole. She had the same need. I felt
her hand around my cock guiding me into position. We shoved
together at the same instance and I popped inside her. I
wrapped my arms around her and pulled her in tight. The smooth
skin on her back was still cool and moist to the touch but
inside her pussy she was hot and dripping wet.

Still gripped in a tight embrace, she swung her pelvis from
side to side twisting my cock inside her. Her movement was
quickly driving me to the edge. I bucked into her violently
but she held onto me and rode my cock. The moonlight had filled
the tent with a soft glow. She sat up and continued grinding
on my cock with the full weight of her sturdy frame. There
was just enough light to see her breasts bouncing wildly
above me as her face contorted into an unrecognizable mask
of carnal desire. Guttural moans escaped from deep in her

She let out a series of short, stifled screams then clenched
her whole body tight and held her breath while she shivered
through one long orgasm after another. I was being fucked
by a lioness in heat. That's when I lost all remaining
inhibition. I scratched my fingers into her back, bit her
neck and squirted a huge load of cum into her. She convulsed
again and held onto my cock like a glove that was a size too
small. I pumped into her again and again. She squeezed until
a spray of our juices blew out around the fleshy plug that
I had rammed into her love hole.

After the last shudder, we just lay there joined at the groin
with my now very flaccid member still gripped inside her.
At last she relaxed and let me slide out with a gush of pent
up fluids. She rolled off and curled up into a ball with her
back pressed against me. I reached around with one arm and
cupped a breast in my hand. She pressed her smooth ass checks
back into me until my very limp member was nestled snuggly
in her warm crack. It was a gesture more of intimacy than
desire. We both sighed at the same time. Then we fell asleep
with saying another word.

The smell of coffee drifted into the tent and woke me up.
The light was just beginning to cut through the morning
fog. She must have gotten up early. At least she was still

I had slept through the night in the nude. Now I threw on my
pajama bottoms, grabbed my camera and popped out of the
tent. The best time for nature photography was in the early
morning and I had almost missed it.

I found her sitting on a large flat rock by the lake with two
insulated coffee mugs and one of my books. She hadn't
bothered to put on clothes. She offered me one of the two

" I wondered when you would finally get up."

"I had every reason to sleep in. That was quite a workout
you gave me last night."

She changed the subject.

"This is an interesting book. Is it yours?"

I stared at her blankly.

"Of course, why would you carry a couple pounds of
books into the wilderness just for the exercise?"

"I admit it. They're my books."

"Your interests intrigue me. I like that in a man."

"Books are a good way to make friends, but I've
never had a woman throw her naked body on me because of my

"This is all a bit unusual for me, too."

"So why did you pick me? Not that I'm complaining."

"I either needed to prove that I could seduce a perfect
stranger or take a vow of celibacy."

"Sex with a stranger or celibacy. There must be a back
story in there somewhere."

"Not much of a story. Just a bad experience."

"The infamous Mike?"

"Yes, the infamous Mike. He charms me for most of the
summer until he gets my pants down, then he insults me. I'm
laying there dripping cum expecting him to say some tender
words of endearment. So what does he do? He tucks his sticky
cock back in his pants and calls me the tight ass virgin who
almost ruined his perfect score."

"Perfect score?"

"Yea, he'd fucked every other woman on the staff
by then-- including the wife of the head chef at the lodge."

"And were you a "tight ass virgin"?"

"No. Yes. I don't know."

We were sitting close together now. She had folded her arms
over her breasts and pulled her knees tightly together.
She was no longer comfortable in her nudity. I put my arm
gently around her shoulder to encourage her.

"I was not technically a virgin. I had a boyfriend
for most of college and we had done it a number of times, but
only because I thought we were going to be married."

She paused to collect her thoughts.

"I'm really not a prude, but I may have had more
than my share of inhibitions."

She searched my face for understanding and apparently
liked what she saw. Of course, I didn't really understand
at all. I feared for my life if the woman who made love to me
last night lost any more inhibitions.

"I've seen a few porno flicks but I never thought
I could do it that way. Like people watch gymnastics with
no intention of trying a double back flip dismount or whatever."

"Don't give up so fast. You can practice your
double back flip dismount -- or whatever -- on me anytime
you want. And I'll throw in a heady book discussion
later as a bonus"

"You're too kind." She mocked me with just
a hint of lingering bitterness, but at least she was beginning
to relax.

"I was so mad at him for calling me a prude. When I got
the excuse to go after you, I decided to try on a new personality.
I was never a 'tight ass virgin' but I decided to
ditch the "nice girl waiting for the right man to find
her" on the way over here."

"So how do you like your new self; the confident seductress
with the gorgeous body and the uninhibited spirit. What
would you like to try next?"

"Take my picture!"


"Yes. Now! Right Now! Before I lose my nerve and turn
back into that 'nice girl' that every mom wants
her son to date."

I picked up my camera and backed away from her taking shots
as I moved. Her anger had melted away. The smile and her confidence
had returned. It was as if each click of the shutter released
another inhibition that held her down. I took a couple dozen
images before pausing to review what I had captured in my

The composition of the image was perfect. She stretched
out languidly on a large smooth rock near the still water
of the lake. Her pale skin was dappled pink in the early morning
light. A patch of wildflowers near her feet focused attention
on the pleasing curve of her legs. From there, it was only
natural for the eye to wander along her nude form pausing
briefly at a tuft of pubic hair or a rounded nipple until
coming to rest on her broad face with the pleasant smile.
I had used a wide aperture and a moderately long lens so that
the pale white nude in the foreground was well focused against
a blurred mass of dark green evergreens in the background.
It was a beautiful photo.

At one time in my life, I had entertained the ambition of
becoming a professional photographer. I did not want to
take photos of kids at a walk-in studio in the mall. I could
have done that, but it would have been just a job. I wanted
the dream job of all photographers. I would be on assignment
one month with National Wildlife chasing ponies across
the steppes of Mongolian and on assignment the next month
with Playboy chasing nude cheerleaders across a University

As I was dreaming about being a professional photographer,
I made the mistake. I looked at the photo again with the eyes
of a professional and ruined it. The image was still well
composed, but the model was all wrong. Models don't
have broad faces or pleasant smiles. Models can have large
breasts, but a model's breasts cannot obey the laws
of gravity.

Carina had large breasts that changed shape with her position.
Her youthful breasts were perfectly shaped when she stood
with her hands on her hips, but they flattened noticeably
over her chest when she lay on her back. And they pulled down
another couple inches and swayed when she crawled toward
me. I laughed to myself imagining her in the weightlessness
of space with one breast floating up and the other drifting
to the side. No gravity defying space age materials were
used in the making of this woman. There was no denying it.
She was the girl next door. She was beautiful, but she was
still the girl next door.

I shut off the camera. I was disgusted with myself. It was
not that I hated beautiful women. I had sex with a cheerleader
in college. It was a wonderful experience waking up to those
big brown eyes. Her breasts were always perfectly shaped
because she was the tall, lean, small breasted type of ideal
body. She wasn't obsessed with being beautiful, but
she had a confidence that neither I nor any of my former or
subsequent girlfriends would have. She knew that she could
have another partner the moment she wanted one. The rest
of us had to work a little harder and hope that the stars were
aligned. We had parted friends after a ridiculous squabble
over music. At least I had my ego intact when we parted, and
I kept a number of nice memories.

After my cheerleader experience, the mystique of beauty
was gone. I still enjoyed the company of beautiful women,
but I wasn't obsessed with the hunt for the perfect
body. Watching my cock slide into the pussy of a woman on
her hands and knees always got me excited. I would grunt
and shudder and finally squirt my load in one huge spasm
of release. At that moment of supreme sexual enjoyment,
it didn't matter if it was my cheerleader's tight
buns or my first girlfriend's soft cushion that I was
banging. Beauty makes that preliminary flirting so easy,
but a man can only get so excited without dying and nearly
a dozen different women of varying sizes and shapes had
gotten me to that exact same moment of ecstasy just by letting
me know how much they enjoyed having my cum shoot into one
or more of their warm, wet cavities. I looked at her again laying nude on the rock. I forgot about
being a professional photographer. She was beautiful.
She was perfect. Michelangelo could have sculptured a
perfect female body and God turned the stone into flesh.
I would not have been more aroused by that perfect form than
I was by this woman with the girl next door beauty.

I smiled at her. I dropped my pants. She raised an eyebrow.
That was all the invitation that I needed. I walked the last
few steps toward her as my cock grew longer and stiffer with
each step. The pancakes and syrup would have to wait. By
the way she licked her lips with her tongue, I could tell
what she wanted for breakfast and I was more than willing
to feed it to her.

We didn't speak. Words weren't necessary. I stood
close to her with my cock at the level of her face. I could
have sat down next to her but I didn't. She took the clue
and made her move. I saw the tip of my cock slid over her lips
as she pulled me into her mouth. Her cheek puffed out where
my cock pushed against her.

They say that blue is a cool color, but those blue eyes that
looked up at me were hot. I shuddered and looked away as I
enjoyed the pleasure of her tongue working around my shaft.
I felt her hand reach up to touch my chest. I kept my eyes closed
until I felt the sting of her nails scratching. My eyelids
popped open and caught her gaze.

Without letting my cock out of her mouth, she gave me a wicked
grin. I knew what she wanted now. She wanted me to watch her
sucking on my cock as she watched my face contort with pleasure.

There was no doubt where this was headed. She let me watch
as she slipped the tip of her tongue into the little slit
at the end of my cock. A steady stream of precum bubbled out
onto her tongue before she swallowed my whole tool and sucked
hard. The feeling was exquisitely intense. I was helpless
to hold back as I felt the first full load of sticky white
goo traveling up my shaft.

She stared up at me with those piercing blue eyes. I wanted
to look away from her but I couldn't. I watched her cheeks
flush red as my cock filled her mouth with cum. She watched
my face flush in an extended orgasm as I grabbed her hair
and pumped my cock into her mouth.

When she had sucked the last drop from me, I moved my hands
down to her shoulders and leaned on her for support as my
strength faded rapidly. She let my softening cock slide
out of her mouth but would not let go of my gaze.

She opened her mouth to show me her prize. Her tongue was
rolled into a little trough filled with my semen. She closed
her mouth and smiled broadly as she swallowed. When she
opened her mouth again, her tongue was clean. Then she smiled
again and laughed out of pure joy. She was on an adventure
of self-discovery and liked what she found. I had never
felt as attracted to a woman as I was at that moment.

I sat down next to her. I placed my hands on her face and pulled
her lips to me. I could taste my own cum as our lips parted
and our tongues met. She was hungry for more. I kissed her
neck as I lay her down on a patch of moss near the rock. She
opened her legs and waited for my tongue to find her sweet
spot. She was as puffy and red as if we had just fucked. A woman
who got that hot sucking cock was a gem worth keeping.

I slid my finger into her vagina and let out a flood of juices
that had been trapped there. The stream trickled down the
groove below her vaginal opening and filled the puckered
depression of her asshole. I put my hands behind her knees
and forced them up to her shoulders so her genitalia were
above her head and fully exposed to me. I put the tip of my
tongue where the crease of her ass cheeks ended and then
slowly moved up the crack scooping up her juices and taking
in the delightful smells and tastes. I did not linger, but
I noticed how she moaned as my tongue passed over that special
little puckered depression. I would remember that for

I turned my attention to her clit. She offered herself to
me without restraint. I could feel her eyes watching me
suck on her engorged labia and lick the juices flowing from
her vagina. She shook uncontrollably with an intense orgasm
but did not relax her grip on my head. She pulled my face up
to kiss her before the last shudder of orgasm had faded.
I felt my fully recovered cock shoved into her love hole.
We met thrust for thrust and then fell silent for some minutes
after the inevitable climax.

As we lay there still breathing heavily, we became aware
of the clatter of paddles against the side of a canoe. There
was nowhere to hide and so we just waited in anticipation.
A middle-aged couple slid by us on the water several yards
off shore. We smiled and waived. We tried to look nonchalant
in our fresh fucked nudity. The woman smiled broadly when
the full scope of our circumstances dawned on her. She turned
to her partner, shrugged and pulled her T-shirt over her
head to reveal a perfectly tanned pair of breasts. The man
gave us a thumbs-up sign of approval and continued paddling
- but not so fast that he couldn't get a good look at my
beautiful woman's cum splattered body.

After they had passed out of sight, we looked at each other
and broke out laughing. We would not be the only copulating
nudists in the wilderness that day.

It was not the last that we would see of them. Even in the vast
emptiness of the boundary waters, there are places that
bring people together. Portages between lakes and places
of exceptional beauty like waterfalls and cliffs draw
people together, even people seeking the solitude of a
wilderness experience. We met again on a portage the next
day and exchanged a few words. Carina and I were both a little
embarrassed about being caught nude in the act. They made
a few comments that put us at ease and hinted at their vastly
greater sexual experience. We met them again toward the
end of the week when we occupied campsites at opposite ends
of a small island in the middle of a large lake. We had all
congregated at sunset on the western shore of the island
to watch the sunset and listen to the loons call out to each
other in the twilight.

That's the evening Carina and I became bona fide voyeurs
and exhibitionists. I had watched my cock slide into eleven
different women before Carina pulled me into the lake earlier
that week, but each experience of intercourse had been
intensely private and separated in time and space from
the experience before and the experience after. I had never
watched another couple in the throes of sexual ecstasy
or allowed anyone to watch me. The sight of the two of them
making love together for us to watch was so powerfully erotic
that we lost whatever inhibitions we retained at that point.
We could have turned and walked away but we were drawn closer.
They wanted us there. You could see it in their faces and
gestures. She stroked her husband's huge cock for
Carina's pleasure. He spread her labia for me to enjoy
the sight of her swollen clit. When they finally locked
their bodies together in the final race of passion, we were
close enough to touch them.

We stripped our clothes off in front of them as they lay entwined
and exhausted at our feet. They moved to one side as we lay
down on their blanket next to them. We could smell their
lust. We could feel their body heat. We touched by accident
but only briefly as we positioned ourselves next to them.
None of our sex that week had been routine. This was even
more intense. There were no preliminaries. No kissing.
No cock sucking or pussy licking. Carina lay on her back
and opened her legs for me to enter her. They watched us as
we fucked slowly. Carina stared at him watching her engorged
labia open up to swallow my thick cock even as I looked at
his wife watching my ass clench tight each time I pushed
into Carina.

What were they feeling as they watched her large breasts
ride up and down her chest with each thrust? What were they
feeling when they saw my testicles pull up just before the
juice shot down my shaft deep into Carina's writhing
body? Whatever they were feeling, for me it felt extraordinarily
good. When we had come down from our orgastic high, we took
the blanket and wrapped it around the four of us. The two
nude women sat with their arms around each other watching
the last of the sunset in the highest wisps of clouds while
the men sat on the outside keeping their partners warm.
When it was too dark to see and too cold even for huddling
under the blanket, we exchanged hugs and handshakes and
returned to our separate campsites.

Being watched had only enhanced the sexual energy that
Carina and I shared. Carina was pulling me along with her
as she explored a world of sexuality that had previously
been only a fantasy.

I did not want the week to end but it did. We had not exchanged
vows of unending love forsaking all others, but I had extracted
a promise from her to let me take her to an event of her choice
after we got back to the city. I had assumed a dance club or
maybe even a book reading. If she had been as smitten by our
week together as I had been, then the evening might end in
my bedroom with the expectation of a hot shower together
in the morning.

The confrontation with Mike was anticlimactic. She had
lost all interest in what he thought of her. Whether he thought
she was a slut or a tight ass didn't matter anymore and
that probably was why he just sulked out of the way as we returned
our equipment and checked out. The other women that Mike
had seduced crowded around her looking for details of her
brazen affair with me and envious of her new found confidence.
She waved them off but not without whetting their appetite
for gossip. I felt myself being undressed by a half dozen
pairs of eyes and enjoying the attention.

Carina had accepted a ride back to Minneapolis in my car.
Just before leaving, the older couple came into shore.
Carina rushed over to them and helped pull the canoe up on
the beach after lifting out the heaviest of the gear. I carried
some of the heavier gear up to the equipment shed while Carina
huddled with them. I saw a notepad come out and an exchange
of little pieces of paper. They looked over at me a couple
of times and smiled or laughed. My curiosity was piqued.
Then Carina embraced the woman in a long tight hug followed
by a hug and a kiss from her husband.

"What was that all about?" I asked after we had
gotten back on the main road.

"Just planning ahead. Maybe even expanding the possibilities.

"Planning for what?"

"You promised that you'd take me on a date to the
event of my choice."

"Yes. I remember that."

"You know they're swingers, don't you."

"I had expected as much, but what does that have to
do with us?"

"Oh. I was trying to decide between taking you to a
dance club or a swing party. They made us a tempting offer."

I swerved briefly into the gravel on the shoulder of the
road before getting the car back into control. Fortunately,
we had not been going very fast on a nearly deserted highway.

"I'll try not to distract you again. But don't
worry. I'll take ten hot showers with you for every
cold dip we took last week - and then maybe you'll want
to take me camping again."

I did the math. It was a lot of hot showers. I was pleased by
the prospect of getting to know this woman better that I
had already gotten to know so well.

"I want to be your lover. Maybe someday I'll want
to be your wife. But right now I want to catch up with you sexually."

I thought about this. Girlfriend, fiancé, fuck buddy.
This was definitely the start of a most unusual relationship,
but I somehow felt comfortable trusting in this big breasted
woman with the broad face and the pleasant smile.

"So how many partners do I need to catch up with you?"

I looked at her for just an instant. After a week of watching
her naked body, it was easy to imagine her stuck on another
man's pole, her chest flushed and her face twisted
with desire. Strangely, the image aroused no feelings
of jealousy. We were now emotionally bound together in
this journey of discovery. The search for sexuality was
just a facet of her creative experience like learning to
play a cello or writing creative stories. She would share
it with me. She would share it with others. An emotional
bond between the two of us was forming deep below the shared
pleasures of sexuality, a mutual love of nature, or even
a common appreciation for the life of the mind as expressed
in a well written book.

"Eleven, but what makes you think I won't try
to stay ahead of you?"

"I suppose you would try, wouldn't you? But do
you really think you can keep up?"

She placed her hand on my thigh gently and flashed her broad
pleasant smile.

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