0 comments/ 8788 views/ 1 favorites The Pop In By: Alex_Hore He knocked loudly on the screen door. "Hello in there," he called, and when the female form appeared from the bedroom he added, "didn't catch you naked did I?" "No, you didn't," said Kate. She was surprised at this stranger's cheek. She didn't really recognize the guy standing at the front door. Kate had other things on her mind. The heat of this early autumn day had made her a little irritable as well. His voice was familiar, but she couldn't place it. Kate racked her brain for a scrap of memory as to who he was, and when she might have seen this guy. It clicked. "You're Paul aren't you?" asked Kate, I spoke to you Monday night on the phone." "Sorry Kate, I didn't mean to startle you" he said, "yes I am. Kate had a good long look at the tall dark haired man at the door. She wouldn't have pictured this image during their previous phone call. He had a confident, air about him, and he was certainly relaxed with Kate, and they had only spoken on the phone once. "I wanted to see if you had finished those hand written invitations for the party yet," he said. "I thought I'd do the pop in and see if you were home, and at least look at the drafts anyway. I know we arranged everything on the phone, but I just wanted to check first hand to make sure that they were what I wanted. Is that okay?" "Sure thing. I've been hot and bothered all week Paul, but you can come in to the cool and look at what I have done so far," said Kate, smiling at the prospect of some company on this really warm evening. It quickly took her mind off the heat, and she was amused within herself to find a new sort of heat suffused her. Kate's only air conditioning was the slight breeze that blew through the house from end to end. That and the new insulation in the roof kept the house a fair bit cooler than outside. She led Paul through to the kitchen and sat him down at the table. He is really cute, thought Kate and a lustful image sprang to mind causing a half smile to break out on her face as she went into the study to get the invitations he had called about. Kate returned quickly with a folder and placed it on the table. "Can I get you something cold?" she asked. "A beer would be nice if you have one," replied Paul. I've been out for a walk at the lake and am a tad thirsty." Kate went to the refrigerator and grabbed an ice-cold beer. She walked over very close and gave it to him, breathing in the manly smell of him. The smell of him invaded her senses, a mixture of the odors from the physical exercise and his cologne. It was a fragrance she couldn't place. The fragrant cocktail was a little intoxicating for her and she found even more sexual images springing to mind as a result of not having such a strong male smell in her house for some time. What's going on? She asked herself. Kate opened her beer. She took a few steps back toward the kitchen bench, turned away from him, with one hand on her hip, unconsciously posing and showing off her bum. "Nice butt Kate," said Paul, shattering her reverie. Kate felt her face blush with embarrassment; she hadn't meant to pose for him. "I'm... sorry Paul... aaah... I... was uummm thinking about whether I had some dry biscuits or not to go with your beer," said Kate. "Sure, but it is still a nice butt," said Paul. "Oh you think so," said Kate smiling at the compliment. There is something about this guy, she thought. But I hardly know him. But then again he likes my butt. That's a good sign. Kate sat down and they started talking about the current heat wave. Paul finished his stubby. "Like another?" asked Kate. "Only if you've got a spare," said Paul. Opening his second beer, he glanced at her. She had a great butt, and her breasts were not big. They were well shaped. He wondered what her nipples would look like. Paul felt a stirring in his loins, and took another mouthful of beer. Kate got herself another one as well and opened the folder on her table with the invitations in it. Spinning it around so he could see, she said, "Here is the first few drafts I have done. I think I'm and going to settle on this one, but they are yours so what do you think?" "I can't quite see from here," said Paul and he got up and stood behind Kate. Leaning forward he rested his cold stubby near her ear lobe, and against her neck. Kate shivered, not with coolness of the glass against her warm skin, but with excitement. This guy was handsome and he was flirting with her, something that hadn't happened to her in a while. She leaned back and felt a bulge pressing into her back. Her mind spinning through a myriad of options finally came back to a pressing need that was growing and the heat emanating from between her legs. She was in need a good fuck, and it had been quite a while. Her work in design and craft making, and night courses had kept her busy. She hadn't been out much, but here was a guy and with any luck, an opportunity. Here she was with a stranger, contemplating sex. Kate could feel that he was obviously attracted to her as well. The bulge in the front of his shorts was a giveaway. "Do you like them?" she said her voice thickening with the excitement that was building within her. "I love them," said Paul, "and the invitations aren't too bad either." Kate, looked at him and then laughed as she realised her nipples had hardened with his attention, and her rising tide of sexual desires and were now pointing out from underneath her top. "Cheeky bastard," she said, "that's twice now." "I'm sorry," he said with a smile, and waved his arms in mock surrender. "It's too hot for a bra," said Kate almost apologetically. She arched her back forcing her tight nipples hard up against the rough material of the cheesecloth top she had on. Paul stared, his tongue flicking out and across his lips. "I agree," said Paul, "in fact it's too hot for any clothes. He stepped back and pulled off his t-shirt. Kate watched and bit her lip as his strong muscular chest was revealed with a sparse covering of hair. She reached forward with her hand and touched him and gave a little shudder. What felt like static electricity passed through her and she sighed at the touch. The air seemed to be charged with energy particles, they cracked and whirred around her ears. Here is a real flesh and blood man, undressing in my house. What is happening? The chemistry of spontaneous attraction was at work on them both. Time seemed to flicker to a stand still as they lived for this moment and the rest of the world, suddenly, was no longer important. Their carnal needs took over. She ran her hands over his chest, playfully flicking his nipples until the little buds were hardened like hers. "Now yours are pointy too!" she said and laughed. Paul placed his hands on either side of Kate's neck and stepped closer to her. He lowered his head and tilted hers up softly, gently, drawing her closer and then their lips met. The sparks ignited as they kissed, and then pulled apart. Kate looked into his eyes and saw a reflection of her lust in them. He does want me too. She kissed him back, parting his lips and driving her tongue into his mouth searching for his, flickering around in his mouth. Their tongues dueled in each other's mouths like fencers, thrusting and parrying. Kate sucked his tongue and felt him moan into her mouth. Paul responded by striving to kiss her harder. He dropped his hands from her neck. He placed one in the small of her back held her to him and the other squeezed her buttocks. This too sending thrills through her body. She pressed herself harder into the line of his body and started working with one hand on the drawstring of his running shorts. The knot came undone quickly, and still kissing him passionately, she slipped her hand inside his shorts, and then underpants and felt the hard warmth of his member. The focus of her desire, she wanted it inside her. He was fully erect, the excitement taking hold of Paul as well. This pleased Kate, she was exciting a man and here in her hand was the hard evidence to prove it. A fleshy, throbbing penis and her hand wrapped around it. She stroked it inside his pants and Paul let out several low moans, and dug his fingers into her buttocks, kneading them and pulling her tighter in towards him. They parted for air, sucking it in ragged gasps, their eyes glazed over with the passion of the moment. It seemed the air too had changed, getting thicker and heavier. Paul quickly pulled down his shorts and then removed Kate's top allowing her breasts to spring free. With his hands he grasped them firmly, Kate moaned with the touch of his strong hands on her soft breasts and Paul then squeezed each of her nipples between his thumbs and fore fingers. Kate felt her knees weaken and moaned aloud with the savage pleasure coursing through her, like a fire, emanating from her erect nipples. Paul put one arm around her waist, and releasing her nipples, lowered her skirt. Kate hooked her hands in her panties and pulled them down to her knees. Then lifting one leg, she put her toe in the crotch, she wasn't surprised to feel the dampness there, and Kate pushed the wet panties to the floor and stepped out of them, while Paul held her in his strong embrace. She reached forward and kissed him again, and he replied in kind, his tongue flirting with hers. Grabbing hold of her buttocks he lifted her up onto the dining table. Kate was too overcome with lust and desire to suggest a bed. She wanted this man and wanted him now. The solid hardwood table would take the punishment dished up by their spontaneous copulation -- she hoped. Their breathing was coming in rapid gasps now as Paul held her sitting on the table. He moved his hands forward and spread her legs. He lent forward and kissed Kate again. Kate felt a hand brush across her inner thigh and then moaned as Paul cupped her sex, massaging it with his palm and fingers. His thumb gently began pressing down on the small mound of her clitoris. Kate bit his lip with the pleasure to stop from crying out with the heat of her arousal. His massaging made her natural juices flow even more. His finger traced a path across her outer lips and then pressed inside her, emerging slick and shiny with her juices. "I think you are ready," breathed Paul into her mouth. Kate lent back, her arms around his neck. "I want you badly" she said, "don't make me beg for it." She reached down with one hand and clasped his member. Her dainty hand wrapped around his shaft and guided him to her moist opening. Looking into his eyes she guided him into her. He paused. They kissed and then without warning he thrust his full length into her. Their backs arched at the sudden jolt of pleasure to their nerve endings. Kate cried out. Paul withdrew all the way, and Kate moaned, "No... Paul." Paul was only teasing and he rammed his member into her again and she cried out aloud this time giving strong voice to her passion, to the overwhelming pleasure he was generating inside her very core. Then after teasing her some more his own will power weakened and he thrust in to her again, becoming more and more frantic. His hands held her buttocks tighter, his fingers digging in to them. Kate loved it, the fingers seeming to meet at her core as well as his throbbing penis, now fully lubricated and rapidly entering her, filling her completely. Her inner muscles grasping it now, milking it, extracting load moans of excitement from Paul. Kate felt her pleasure mounting inexorably towards a climax. Paul kept thrusting, his strong hands pulling Kate even further in towards him. Deeper and deeper, thrusting his member right in to the hilt, grinding their pubic bones together. Kate was getting this fantastic, unplanned, spontaneous ride on his shaft feeling his strength and hardness, her nerve endings alive with the fire of the sexual contact. Kate was overwhelmed, the excitement was too much and she felt it happening, her orgasm was building, starting in her toes. She continued crying out loud with the pleasure. The sounds indiscriminate, coming between gasps of breath. "Yes, Yes Yes, Yeeesss..." She cried and the orgasm washed over her and kept coming in waves searching out every centimetre of her body, sending the waves of pleasure right through her being. Paul was still thrusting as she came but now his control was gone, his wild penetration into her was more erratic as the pleasure took complete control of his actions and he to came in a shuddering climax that made him instantly weak at the knees. He cried out as his orgasm hit home, his seed erupting from his penis into Kate. She felt his semen spurting deep within her and even this sent a thrill through her as she felt fulfilled and satisfied, and pleased she had helped him come as well. He fell forward, his head resting on Kate's breasts. Panting. "Whew," he said, "you were fantastic." "So were you," responded Kate, "I was hot before but now I'm really sweaty. Oh but look what we have done to your invitations." After a few moments they disentangled and cleaned themselves up. "Shower Paul?" asked Kate. She was unsure if she wanted this moment to end. "No I have to get going," said Paul, "But I promise I will call you later tonight." "Okay," said Kate, "I'll look forward to it. She was also keen to see this stunning lover again soon. As soon as possible would suit her to the ground if it were going to be like this. He dressed and she showed him to the door. He kissed her and left quickly, waving as he drove off. Kate went back into the house. Still perspiring, she put on her skirt and top and started to clean up. Putting the messed up invitations back in the folder. A few moments later there was another knock at the front door. A loud male voice called out, "Hi Kate, it's me Jeff! I've been to see my grandparents around the corner and I thought I'd just do the pop in to see how you are going!" The Pop-Out on the Patawanee Creek Running is a Relief. And an escape. Saddled with three kids under the age of eight and a wife with a demanding corporate job, I found myself spiraling downward four years ago. Not only did I have a full-time job of my own, but I also had to shuttle the kids to and from the many after school events and keep up with the housework and grocery shopping. Oh--and did I mention feed everybody? My wife was loving and caring, but she had neither the time nor the energy to offer much assistance.. I needed something different. Something to take my mind away from the stresses of home and work. Something to refocus my energies and channel my thoughts. And that's when I discovered the freedom of endurance running. At first, long jogs were a means to reduce stress through exhaustive physical exertion. I left the house after bedtime and ran the darkened streets, working up a heavy sweat. After returning home, I would strip down naked and jump into the pool. The contrast of inner burning heat and the outer cooling chill enlivened me. And the best thing: The entire time (usually a full hour) I was alone. No expectations. No demands. No requests. Those late-night runs were blissful, relaxing pleasures. But, as one who enjoys challenges, I found myself wanting more. I became obsessed with the desire to run both farther and faster. I had mastered the five-mile, fifty minute run--but so what? It became dull the moment that I realized that it posed no difficulty. I would have to do better. I pushed myself towards nine-minute miles and set a goal to one-day average eight over longer distances. To test myself against others, I began to enter local 10K and 20K races. (They tended to run early weekday mornings when my wife could watch the children). I never placed high in my age group, but I was quite pleased with my performance, especially considering that I had never been a trained runner. Soon I yearned for the middle-age ultimate: The sub 4:00-hour marathon. (For those of you who are serious runners: Hey, I know human beings can go a lot faster. But that time's pretty awesome for a former run-of-the-mill 39-year-old.) With my wife's support, I joined a local marathon-training group that operated out of an athletic shoe store. Over six months, I trained with like-minded folks. The longer runs grew increasingly difficult, but peer camaraderie melted time away on the trails. Our group of 20 met each Saturday morning at 5:30 A.M. Over two months of gentle increases, we reached a base run of 12 miles; thereafter, we slowly added miles every other week, maxing out at 22 (the other week was always the base miles). I know this sounds impossible for those who have never run long distances. I can only say that the human body is an amazing mechanism. It can learn to do whatever we desire. With careful instruction and preparation, the body can adapt to the most extreme challenges. The longer runs took up to four hours. Though our group did tend to spread out over a half a mile, most of us still had an opportunity to chat with each other. Over time I realized that we all shared one thing in common: We were trying to escape something. For some, it was advancing age. For others, excessive responsibilities, or professional disappointment, or a failed relationship, or increasing body weight.... There was always something. It was rarely spoken directly, but it was inevitably made clear during conversation in the early morning hours. I felt comfortable in this group. I ran up and down the line each Saturday, catching up with everyone, sharing the highlights and low-lights of my week. Most of the other runners were considerably younger than myself. This didn't bother me at all. In fact, I enjoyed hearing about their lives. It reminded me of my own past, my life before marriage and children. A core group had become quite friendly with each other and socialized outside of our training runs. The rest of us were always invited, but I could rarely make it. (Wednesday happy hour is difficult when you need to pick three kids up after work and get one of them to baseball practice and the other to piano lessons--only to circle back to pick them both up again in 60 minutes.) Time passed and the marathon came. I felt great throughout my training and--one the day of the big event--ran effortlessly. My final time of 3:41:23 didn't put me anywhere near the top runners of my age group, but I beat my original goal by nearly 20 minutes and average about 8:30 per mile. Most members of my group did even better (I was one of only a few first-timers). Jon, our leader, ran 2:58:30. Not world class, but a worthy achievement. As we sat around after the race drinking the free beer provided by the Shiner Brewery, we lamented that the season was over. Most pledged to return in the fall for next year's sponsored training. But some weren't quite ready to let it go yet. Marybeth, one of the younger single girls, suggested that we have an end-of-season celebration. With the summer months approaching, she suggested tubing on the Patawanee Creek, which runs through North Texas into the Red River. "We have to!" she implored. "We can haul coolers with us, lounge under the sun, spend time together. And it's beautiful and remote. I bet we have the creek to ourselves! I grew up near there and I know just where to go!" It didn't happen right away, but after much Facebook messaging, Marybeth's idea became reality. The group set a Saturday afternoon float date. Even though most of us had to travel an hour's distance, twelve of twenty group members confirmed. I was a "No." It was Saturday. I had housework and my usual shuttling duties. I didn't even ask my wife. But when the event came up later in casual conversation, I was shocked when she said, "Well, did you want to go?" I didn't say, "Hell, yes!" but that was my immediate sentiment. I love the great outdoors. and a slow tubing down a river is a favorite of mine--although regrettably an activity I've done rarely since college. We worked out the details, and I changed my reply to "yes." Now, I am content in my marriage, but that does not mean "happily ever after." To be sure, I can't complain: I have a loving wife with an exceptional character. She is pure goodness through and through. But....physically, she let herself go 13 years ago. Whereas I will challenge my body on a daily basis, she allows hers an eternal rest. And it shows. I guess I must admit that this adds a hot spot in our marriage (the wrong kind). I want to perfect my physical body for my lover. It bothers me that she won't make such an effort for me. So...that attractive girl I married is no longer my wife. And, because of it, I admit that my eye does wander, and I yearn for the physical companionship of other women. Which is why the thought of spending a day on the river, surrounded by young attractive girls with tight runner's bodies in tiny swimsuits, was extra appealing. (I would lie if I didn't admit that part of the joy of athletic training is spending time with women who are exceptionally physically fit. On the day of, I arrived at the drop-in site on time and quickly busied myself arranging my tube and supplies. Jon had rigged two tubes for hauling food and beverages. One was attached to his outfit and the other to Marybeth's. I added my items to their coolers. Then, I took off my shirt, threw it in the back of my truck, and oiled myself up. (You only need to live in Texas for a week to learn the importance of suntan lotion.) Lastly, after consulting with Jon, I handed my car keys over to group-mates Alex and Bill, who were driving several cars down to the pick-up site. While we waited for them to return, I listened in on a few conversations. I must admit that I wasn't very talkative. But, behind my dark sunglasses, my eyes were very active. Of course the women in my training group had fantastic bodies. Running 30+ miles most weeks eliminates fat and hardens muscles. Though I had seen all the women many times in tight shorts--and a few in bra tops--I had never seen them like this: Sporting skin-tight shorts that revealed all their curves. My eyes drank in the sights. They were my friends, and I had no sexual desires for any of them, but that doesn't mean I couldn't appreciate the beauty of the human body. But,--dare I say, none of them were my kind of woman? Thin. Tight. Zero fat. Muscular. But not for me. I know that there are men that couldn't possibly understand such feelings. So be it. There I stood at the drop-in, surrounding by my female running mates in their skin-tight swimsuits. Nine women. Eighteen tight-butt cheeks. Firm abs, hard thighs, and taunt arms.... They looked great. But my eyes instead fell on the one woman I didn't know. Full breasts. Wide hips. Round thighs. A pronounced hourglass figure. And a stomach neither firm nor loose. It was just right. A woman with curves. Oh--the other girls had curves. Tight little curves. Often perfectly shaped. But...so, so small. The object of my attention had real curves. Perhaps I should say pronounced curves: She looked as a woman should. And she was clearly a marathon runner: One of the rare women who doesn't have to sacrifice her full-body figure to reach maximum shape. She stood there impressively in a tight yet modest gray and white bikini. Her large breasts were pressed together and up by the top, creating a magnificently deep line of cleavage. Her stomach showed body yet still had the outlines of well-developed abdominal muscles. Her thighs were round and thick but yet muscular. She carried an ironic beauty: Physically strong but yet soft and womanly. She didn't have that male, muscular edge that too many female athletes carry. And, unlike the others, she appeared to be my age. Suddenly feeling conversational, I walked over to her. "Hi, I'm Ed. Don't believe I've seen you on the trails." I extended my hand. "Rhonda." She shook my hand pleasantly, a sincere smile on her lips. "I'm part of the Grand Prairie group, but I knew Jon back when he ran with us. We keep in touch, and he invited me along. My girlfriend was supposed to join me, but she bailed at the last second. But, since I have two young kids at home, and I don't get out much on my own, I decided to come anyway" Her words struck an immediate cord with me. Not only did she have the body I loved, but her life situation seemed familiar. "I'm glad you did. It gives me someone to talk to who understands children. The rest of these folks are a bit too young and free. They don't quite understand what it means to run 18 miles and then come home to young children." I wanted her to see that we shared something in common. And she gave me what I wanted: An understanding smile and a brisk nod of the head. We chatted a bit more. Our home schedules and responsibilities mirrored each other as we both had a spouse with a demanding, time-consuming job. Our reasons for and love of endurance running were the same. I felt that we hit it off well, and we mutually stood next to each other as the tubes were rolled down to the river's bank and the calls for departure commenced.. We all hopped into the water and excitedly began our five-hour float. This stretch of river--according to Marybeth--was rather remote and rolled largely through Texas ranch land. She said that we wouldn't pass by any homes, but that we should see more than our share of cattle. At first, we all grouped together, using the food and beverage floats as our center. We laughed, reminisced, and drank. Eventually, the creek's movement and channel broke us up into smaller groups. After 30 minutes, I found myself alone with Rhonda at the rear of our party. It was by accident, but I was quite glad. I wanted to get to know her better. (And I must admit that I quite enjoyed stealing glances at her bountiful cleavage). We fell into deep conversation. Children. Jobs. Spouses. Hobbies. Passions. Delights. It would be wrong to bore you with details. We all have diverse tastes. Can I just say that I felt magic? I laughed. She laughed. I smiled. She smiled. Sincere pleasure, and enjoyment, with each other's company. We connected on so many levels. We shared so many common interests and passions. It even felt a little unnerving. Two strangers shouldn't feel so comfortable with each other only one hour after meeting. There are few rapids on the Patawanee, but experienced rafters know that no fast-moving body of water should be taken lightly. No matter how deep. After three or four long, slow bends, the creek narrowed and sharply dropped perhaps one foot at the next turn. At the time, we were perhaps 20 yards behind the main group. Instinctively, I watched the others go before us. None had difficulty, but I could see their tubes quickly accelerate as they hit a yard-wide gap in a water break. A large rock appeared in the middle of the narrow, about five feet after the gap, forcing passersby to either go hard to the left or to the right. I could see that each person in our group had to lean or paddle slightly to avoid hitting the rock head on. I communicated what I saw to Rhonda and took the lead, excited for a little action.. A bit experienced on watercraft, I shifted my weight as my tube, used a hand to paddle, and easily passed through the drop, avoiding any contact with the imposing stone.. I immediately turned my attention to the group in front, who--due to the creek's sudden velocity--were already partly around an upcoming bend. I could hear them yelling at me, but their words were indecipherable. I put my thumb up in the air and waved with the other hand. They waved back and turned their attention back to each other as they turned the corner. I looked back for Rhonda. Her empty tube floated towards me. In the rushing water, I must have missed her capsizing. I rolled out of my tube and into the water. My feet found the bottom, and I grabbed at Rhonda's tube as I continued to hold onto my own. The cool rushing water felt great on my tanning skin. The height was almost to my shoulders. Deeper than I had expected. I peered up the creek, looking for Rhonda. I found her standing--head and shoulders above water-- to my right of the water gap, struggling to extricate herself from a fallen tree that had apparently gone over the rapids during a flood and become stuck in a debris field. Fishermen know how such trees can be a nuisance. The many small limbs grab at your clothing--as well as your fishing equipment--and can be rather difficult to untangle from. But I didn't see any danger. I pushed myself up through the current, hauling the tubes. As I neared her, I moved towards the creek bank and found a spot to throw the tubes, then I worked myself towards Rhonda. A witty comment jumped to the tip of my tongue, but I immediately swallowed it when I saw that Rhonda was flustered. Her face was red with embarrassment. "I am so sorry!" she yelled, raising her voice above the crashing water. "I don't know what happened!" "No worries! And no hurry!" I responded. "Here, let me untangle you! I think you're caught from behind." I had begun to move around her when I stopped dead and unthinking. Men know how it goes: You stand over a woman. Your eyes drop to her chest. And you instinctively follow the line of cleavage. Rhonda had ample cleavage showing. I had stolen more than a few glances at it already behind my darkened shades. But now, she had more to show me: One naked breast. It was partly underwater, but wholly visible. During her struggles, her left breast had apparently "popped out." Large. White. Fleshy. With surprisingly small and circular red aureoles. The nipple was hard and firm, protruding far from its base. It seemed to ripple in the rushing water. It was fantastic. I was staring, and the thought that my behavior was inappropriate was slow to sleep into my brain. "Ummmm, Rhonda". I stammered. "Umm, you popped out." My pointing finger dropped her eyes to the object of my leering. "Oh!" She squeaked, dropping herself fast and hard into the water while she reached to cover herself. At the same moment, I heard an audible pop. My peripheral vision caught a long slender form wavering on the surface of the water behind her: It was her bikini strap. Her powerful, sudden movement had apparently stretched the thin fabric until it snapped. Rhonda had felt it. "Oh, my! I think I'm undone." She laughed as she said it. (How could you not? The chain of events was rather comical.) She turned her back towards me and reached around to rehook herself--only, she had never become unhooked. I could see her working the straps to no avail. "Here, let me take a look, "I said. "Haven't you seen enough?" "Absolutely not!" We were joking, not flirting. But I did feel relieved that she seemed calm. I looked at the situation. Things didn't look good. The top fastened on the back with four hooks, like a bra. However, the strap on her right side had snapped at a different spot. The hooks were still connected. The fabric would have to be tied by hand in a knot in order to hold. Assuming that that would even work. (It did occur to me there that Rhonda was a large breasted girl who would put a lot of "weighted pressure" on those straps. "Ed, is it possible to tie together the torn pieces together?" "Well, let me try." I intentionally tried not to sound too optimistic. Rhonda stood as tall as she could, but only her shoulder blades rose above the water. I essentially need to tie the knot at the waterline. I should have asked her to move towards shore but. in the awkwardness of the situation, I just wanted to get it down. As she held her arms crossed over her chest (to prevent the current from tearing her top off completely), I fumbled with the straps. In so doing, the part where the hooks conjoined became partly undone. Sensing it would be easier to tie the pieces together with the top completely unhooked, I tried to do so. It did feel rather wild to undress a woman I had only just met. I know it was technically only a three-inch piece of fabric, but still.... My eyes lingered on Rhonda's tanned strong back. I enjoyed the closeness of her presence. But...the task at hand. I looked down to tie the fabric and.... It was gone. The small piece of fabric that I had removed...was...gone. In the chilly water, my partially numb fingers must not have felt the fabric taken by the current. "Ah...Rhonda. I think we just lost a little piece of your top. Do you see it?" It took her a moment for her to understand. Then, she frantically looked around her in the water.. "No, I don't. What does this mean?" I pulled the strands of her top towards each other. They were two inches apart. I app lied some pressure. Her body tensed but she said nothing. Even with all my energy, I couldn't quite get the fabric tips to touch, let alone cross over enough to make a tie. "I think we have a problem," I sputtered, and then explained. Rhonda grabbed the tips herself and tried to stretch them. A no go, as well. I hadn't brought anything with me save for my clothes and my tube. Rhonda was the same. There was nothing with which to repair or alter her top. I didn't know what to expect from her. She turned to face me, a bit perplexed, arms crossed over her chest. Then, an immediate change of attitude crossed over her. An awe-shucks grin spread across her face. "Well, I guess you've already seen me partly naked. So, what the heck." With that she dropped her arms, taking her top with her, fully exposing her breasts for my unobstructed view. Her nipples reached toward me, peering out just above the water line. Large, full, and white (a brilliant contrast to her otherwise tanned body), her breasts instantly aroused my base instincts. I know that I stared.. The Pop-Out on the Patawanee Creek "So, what do you think?" Rhonda asked coyly. "Mmmmmm. Very nice!!!" I said, mimicking a favorite voice. "Thanks, Borat! she laughed (she got the joke!). "Maybe later we can count chickens together." I relaxed at her naked comfort, and we moved towards shore to get our tubes. We flopped in and pushed off. "I guess we have some catching up to do," I offered, trying to ignore the fact that Rhonda was now topless next to me. "I feel no hurry," Rhonda rejoined. "They're not leaving without us. I say take our time." With that, she stretched herself over her tube, positioned so that only her feet and ankles were underwater. Her breasts flattened, but I enjoyed the view from the side, as they cast a nice, curved overhang. "Besides," she continued, "I might as well get my top fully tanned. And the fewer gawkers the better" She paused. "That doesn't bother you, does it?" She said the last words rather playfully, and I responded in kind: "No, in fact I'm a big believer in a full body tan. So don't stop yourself from ironing out all of your tan-lines." "Oh--you have a full body tan?" She caught me. "Oh, of course! I highly recommend it." (In truth my butt was as white as pure salt.) "I bet it looks nice." She stared straight up at the sky as she said this, and I couldn't see the expression on her face. I felt that special tingle of excitement. Flirting!?! Playful games don't last long into marriage. It had been a long time. I didn't know where things were going with Rhonda, but I felt a mutual attraction. This was fun. I returned: "Oh, I would say so indeed. I would love to show you, but--well, we're married and all." Rhonda smirked. "Hmmm. Well, I think that I am showing you a little bit of forbidden flesh without any naughty incident. Why couldn't you do the same?" "That's not true! I'm not seeing anything on you that I'm not showing you in return!" She laughed, both sweetly and heavily. "I'm afraid that your breasts aren't quite the same 'point value' as mine. If they were truly equal, I think men would have to cover them up just as we do." "I have long complained about the silliness of women having to cover their breasts. I mean, it is only a hunk of flesh. So they're bigger than men's. Does size really matter so much?" "Absolutely!" Rhonda retorted emphatically. "As one betrothed to a small-sized man in every respect, I can certainly say that bigger is better in all things. Now look at me and tell me that you don't believe the same thing." I was already looking at her, of course. She sat upright in her tube, put her hands on her hips, and stuck her chest out towards me. They had to be DD's. They seemed to cover her entire torso, save for a tiny strip of a firm, bull belly beneath them. Then, with a sturdy wiggle, she set them in motion for me. They swayed side-to-side, quivering as they did so. I know that women don't understand, but it's hypnotic to a man. They were simply spectacular. I followed them back-and-forth as if I were watching a tennis match. I felt a deep sense of sadness when they stopped swinging. "Well?" Rhonda asked in a stern voice. "Does size matter?" "OK! OK! I am a new believer. Size. Is. Everything." I have rarely spoken so honestly. "So, to return to our prior argument. You now concede that I am showing your more. Hence, our situation is unfair. I request again the pleasure of seeing your full body tan." I surely had a stupid-looking grin on my face as I pondered how to respond. "Alright, I agree that you have right to see my full body tan. But, if I did so, there would still be an injustice. You see, your eyes would then have access to my entire body and all its assets. Meanwhile, part of your body would remain cloaked. I simply cannot allow this to occur." "I understand,," she said. "Let's rectify the situation." And, with that, she leaned backwards, slid her hand under her bikini bottoms, and slid them up, over, and off her legs. Completely naked, she looked over at me, smiling smugly. "Now will you take off your shorts?" she asked in a mocking voice. My mind barely processed her words as my eyes stared at the white skin—broken only by a neatly trimmed triangle of pubic hair—that was formerly hidden under her bikini bottom. "Shit!" I sighed. "You win!" I leaned back and pulled my shorts up and off. "Hey! Where's that full body tan! I've been hoodwinked!" Her words were playful, not angry. "Well...you got me. But you know what? At the end of the day, I will have a full body tan. So I will promise what I delivered!" We continued floating down the river. It didn't seem awkward at all. Our nakedness changed nothing about our conversations and feelings of kinship. I did steal more than a few glances at Rhonda's body, and I felt her do the same. I sensed the possibility of romance, but I didn't make such advances. Why would I? It was a beautiful day. So much to enjoy. Why take a risk? But then, that's one of my fatal flaws: Overly conservative and content. I'm glad Rhonda wasn't (and isn't) that way. (Some time later....) Now on her stomach, Rhonda paddled over to me with her hands. My eyes feasted on her delicious white rump. "I am a little disappointed," she sighed affectedly. "What's wrong?" I inquired. "I don't see to be able to inspire you." "What makes you so sure?" "Floppy." With that, she reached out, picked up my limp penis, and let it drop to the ground. Her touch--an unexpected aggressive move--shocked me: Positively. I felt a small surge. I wondered what she might do next. "You could fix that, you know." Admittedly, not my best line, but we had already won each other over. Without words, she reached out and placed one hand on my side to pull me closer. With the other, she lightly picked up my hardening penis. Soon, her soft lips surrounded it and I felt the tingling touch of her warm tongue. I watched her in the midst of my deepening pleasure. She seemed so caring, so passionate, so intent. The moment should have seemed surreal but instead seemed so natural. A man and a woman who—though they had only just met—share so much in common. Our other lives seemed so distant on this day. I am not the type of man to only receive pleasure. Truly passionate sex must go both ways. I wanted to please her as she pleased me. I leaned across, grabbed the end of her tube, and pulled it towards me, so that my eyes stared straight into her pelvic area. She understood my intentions. There was some shifting weight and a few physical adjustments, but moments later my tongue lolled on the folds of her vagina. We mutually explored each other with our tongues. From time to time, one of us would stop pleasing the other to indulge in our own sensations. I imagine that we must have been quite a sight to on-lookers, especially to anyone flying overheard. But, at the time, I had no thoughts. I only felt. I had discovered Rhonda's most sensitive spots. With gusto, I took to them in earnest. What does that mean? I pressed. Hard. Extending my tongue, I used it as a penis at just that right spot and pounded again and again as fast as I could. I knew her enjoyment from her lips. She gripped me tighter and sucked harder. It felt heavenly. I could sense the early tingles of an orgasm. And I felt the same in Rhonda, as her hips began to rock with my facial thrusts. Our pace quickened. Faster! Faster! Faster!........... Splash! It happened quickly. I felt my balance go as the part of the tube behind my back (which had been partly raised out of the water by my leaning body) raised up and over. In my gusto, I had leaned deeper into Rhonda to penetrate her to the maximum. As I fell into the creek, I pulled Rhonda with me. The cool water extinguished the passionate flames moments before climax. We stood up facing each other in the hip-high water, laughing. But I would not let it end that way. I placed my hand behind her, on her lower back, and dropped it to fondle her buttocks. My other reached to touch one of her soft, massive breasts. As I did so, I stared deeply into her eyes, which seemed to glint with the same passion that I felt. My penis, fully hardened again, reached up and out of the water to rest against her full, firm stomach. Rhonda began to drop her body, but I caught her and pressed her towards me. "I want all of you," I whispered in her ear. She leaned up and in to me. For the first time, our lips met. I felt her hands on my butt, softly exploring its curves. I pushed her into me, tighter than before, relishing the soft tickle of her flesh. Our tongues met continuously, playfully rolling over each other in our conjoined mouths. I had to have her. I pushed against her, and we began an awkward walk to the creek bank, trying to maintain our heated touches. When the water was knee-deep, I moved to lay her down. I relished her body as she did so. Her mammoth breasts flattened and spread across her body. Her opening legs revealed her passionate want. I moved atop her immediately. She grabbed my penis and positioned it into her. The creek water partly flowed over her body, the clear water glinting on her flesh. I felt its coldness on my legs and against my side. My entire body tingled with prickling sensations. As I slowly pushed myself fully into her, Rhonda raised her head up and spoke into my ear. "Fuck me. Fuck me, hard. Don't be gentle." Heated words. The type spoken by lovers in the throes of passion. Sincere, Honest. I rejoined: "I want to fuck you all day. You are so beautiful. I want to stay inside you." "Harder. Fuck me, harder." "I won't stop. I'll never stop." If only. If only we could remain in a passionate bond for hours or days. Against my will, my body sought an end. Again and again I thrust into her. Water splashed about us. We were surely making quite a racket on the creek bend. Rhonda maintained a firm grip on my butt, guiding me with pulses, directing my angle and speed. I relished the marked contrast of the hot sun on my back and the cool water on my legs. And then the moment came. I didn't want it. I wasn't ready to give it up. But I had to. My breathing accelerated. Rhonda, sensing my impending climax, began breathing more heavily as well. I tried to time the moment, to experience the thrill together. I tried to delay, remaining inside her, but the moment grew to late. I felt myself go. Concerned about unwontedly cumming inside her, I tried to back out--but she wouldn't let me. She held me firmly, preventing my escape. My voice cracked with the first orgasmic spasm. Others followed quickly, but they held a delightfully long procession. I had not orgasmed so passionately in years. Perhaps decades. s Halfway through, Rhonda went as well. Her eyes rolled slightly backwards, and she exhaled long and slowly. The creek rolled over our conjoined bodies. As the moment slipped away, we looked at each other and smiled. "Perfect in every way but one, " she said playfully, her head shaking back and forth with a big smile on her face. "Perfect for me," I grinned. "How could it not be so? Tell me what I need to do so that it's perfect for you." "Perhaps you could swim a mile down the creek to get our tubes?" The tubes! I could have cared less, but I did look down the creek. No tubes along the bank until the river bended to the right. "Let's go!" I said. "You first. I want to see that beautiful white butt as much as possible." "Hey, I get a turn as well!" "To look at your butt? How are you going to do that?" She just shook her head. Down the creek we went. At first we walked along the back. It felt liberating to walk in the nude. The breezy air felt great on my skin, as did the warm sunlight. And, as I promised, I enjoyed the view of Rhonda's full yet well-shaped naked backside. There is something so beautiful about a woman walking naked. The slight movement up and down of each cheek creates a slight quiver that just speaks to the heart of men. We reached the creek bend and looked down the water line. There were the tubes. And next to them were Jon and Marybeth. They saw us and waved. Now I was conscious of nudity. Even from the 100-yard distance, they could surely tell we were naked. For the first time in a while, I thought about my clothes. I had lain them draped over the side of my tube. The tube that had capsized in the water. I looked at Rhonda, who seemed to be thinking about the same thing. "Well," I offered. "Shall we give them a show?" Rhonda looked at me for a moment, then grinned. "Absolutely. Do be sure to find a reason to turn about. I think Marybeth will like the cute, tight butt of yours." And so we walked towards them. We had to cross to the other side of the creek. I imagine that it would have been fascinating to hear their words as we grew closer. Normally, I am a bit self-conscious about nudity. Even in a male locker room, I cover up. But...perhaps the naked comfort I had felt with Rhonda the entire day had changed the attitude. Along with the fact that--even though I was nearly 40--my body had never looked better. My body was tight, firm, and muscular. I felt proud. We had chosen to walk down the middle of the creek, which allowed us to swim part of the distance. Surely Jon and Marybeth saw from a distance that we weren't wearing clothing, but it didn't lessen the surprise on their faces as our bodies came out of the water. I could see Jon's eyes--even behind his sunglasses--locked on Rhonda's body. Marybeth's . As my hips left the water, I secretly hoped that her open-mouth expression was one of amazement. "Umm....how do we explain this?" Jon fumbled in a surprised, inquisitive voice. "Just a mishap down near the rapids," Rhonda said matter-of-factly. "My bikini got in such a tangle that I had to cast it aside. Ed was kind enough to take his suit off as well so that I didn't feel self-conscious. He's quite the gentleman! You didn't happen to find our suits on those tubes, did you?" "Afraid not," replied Jon. "We had stopped here with some water for you, and to make sure you two were OK. You got more than a little behind us. These tubes floated down a bit ago, but nothing else." As he spoke, I stole a glance at Marybeth. Her eyes were still locked on my groin. I followed what Jon was saying, but I had no cares." "Do you have any extra clothes," Rhonda asked. "Just what we have on," Jon said. From the frequent glances he stole at Rhonda's body, I wondered if he'd offer up any even if he had them. I looked at Marybeth. I caught her staring at my groin again. She looked sheepishly away. "Maybe," I said, "to make things fair, you two should join us. I strongly recommend the full body tan." I looked at Rhonda, who met my gaze, and smiled. There was silence for a moment or two. Then Marybeth stood up and reached behind her. Her bikini top fell to the ground, revealing her perky (and perfectly round) breasts. With no hesitation, she reached down and slipped her bottoms off. She stood straight up and put her hands on her hips. "I'm in," she said. "Why pay at the tanning saloon when you can get a free all-over tan on the river?" "I can't argue with that!" It was Jon. I sensed him dropping his drawers as well, but my eyes were all on Marybeth. She had a lithe body. Thin and muscular. Her breasts were small and her hips narrow. Her body impressed, but she didn't have the fullness of Rhonda. Nonetheless, she was a pleasure to behold. I raised my eyes to hers. She smirked. Now I had been caught staring. I playfully stuck my thumb in the air and nodded my head. She smiled. Then I took my index finger and swirled it in the air. She got my message. She stepped to the side and twisted her hips, show me her firm, white backside. I had seen it many times covered only by thin spandex, but that black covering took away all the beauty of the naked flesh. I could only nod my head and smile. She looked at me directly, raised her index finger, and gave me the same twisting message. I was glad to oblige. As I did so, I stole a glance at Rhonda, who was enjoying a nice view of Jon. My glance drew her attention. "You're mine," I mouthed to her. She nodded, a broad smile on her lips. Marybeth was beautiful. I enjoyed her body and her company. But Rhonda meant something different to me. She excited me. Thrilled me. Physically and mentally. I knew that we would be seeing each other again. "We better catch up with the rest," Jon called out. "We're probably 30-40 minutes behind." He moved tubes down to the water line, as Rhonda and I quickly chugged a bottle of needed water. Soon we were in our tubes, drifting down the creek, laughing and splashing. No one made reference to our nudity. It seemed natural, unimportant. But it was noticed. I stole long glances at the two women, and I could see the others do the same. It added a new level of enjoyment. Beyond personality, humor, and shared experiences, our bodies raised other types of interests and intrigues. I felt no sexual urges. Rhonda had fully satisfied me. I simply enjoyed the physical beauty that I was born to appreciate. Though we floated together, we tended to pair off as couples. Rhonda and I took every opportunity to move next to each other. It had been over 90 minutes since our impulsive lovemaking. Though I wanted her again, I was content to enjoy the sight of her body but even more so her companionship. She was wickedly funny. I hadn't laughed so hard in years. And she seemed to enjoy my quirky jokes and ironic humor far more than most people. We seemed a natural pair. The afternoon drifted away in this sensual bliss. Pleasure for the eyes. Pleasure for the skin. Pleasure for the soul. After some time, we turned a bend and could see the others in the distance. "Look like they wait up for us," Marybeth said. "I think it's another hour to the take-out from here." There was an unusual silence. I could tell that we were all suddenly aware that we were without clothes. "Uh, maybe you two should put on some clothes, go ahead, and see if you can find something to bring back for us, " I offered up. "Are you crazy? Rhonda spoke immediately, sounding almost irritated. "This is a perfect day. The sun. The company. I am not going to ruin my chance for a full body tan for reasons of modesty. In fact, I think the rest up there will be better served if they join us." "Me, too!" piped up Marybeth. "And I don't run a 1,000 miles a year just to keep my body under wraps. Someone might as well enjoy the sight of it!" "Hey," remarked Jon. "And it's Nude Day. They have to join us. It only comes round once a year, right?" I looked a Rhonda, who looked smugly at me. What had we started? We had relieved our own sexual tensions, but I could see that Jon and Marybeth were sparking with excitement. Things could get interesting. Very interesting. I pulled her tube close to mine and gave her a wink. "Looks like your pop-out on the Patawanee Creek might blossom into a full-blown naturist celebration." "I don't think I'd want it any other way." "You do know that I will be seeing you again." I lowered my voice so that Jon and Marybeth--who were conversing with each other--wouldn't hear. "Why must people always point out the obvious?" she laughed. "We can exchange numbers later. The food tube is up there and I'm hungry." With that, she slid off the tube and raised herself up out of the suddenly knee-deep water. "Let's go eat!" she hollered. Marybeth did the same. I stole a quick glance at their white behinds--one full and wide, the other slim and narrow--as they stood next to each other before joining them. With the men on the outside, we walked towards the rest, pulling our tubes behind us. We were too far to see their faces, but I could see two of the stand up and point at us emphatically. Everyone quickly turned to stare. The Pop-Out on the Patawanee Creek I smiled. Proud. It was a good day. A new friendship. A sweet escape. The warmth of the sun. Good company and sincere laughs. The high spirit of adventure. It felt so right. I dropped a hand behind Rhonda, who walked next to me, and stealthily ran my fingers across her backside. "It's not over," I whispered. "It's just beginning," she rejoined. Jon called out to the others, now 20 yards away. "Hey! What's wrong with you guys? It's Nude Day. Didn't you read Marybeth's email? All clothes off! Full body tans for everyone!" I moved my hand back to Rhonda's backside and cupped a cheek. As I did so, I noticed that Jon had done the same to Marybeth. Desire clearly burned in all of us. I returned my eyes to the bank. A huge smile broadened across my face. We were not going to be alone for our naked reveling on Nude Day. Do you want me to tell you more? There's not much to say. I spent a beautiful sunny day, surrounded by beautiful fun-loving people, whose firm wet athletic bodies glistened in the late afternoon glow. We were great friends before and intimate friends after. At the end, we made plans to get together and do it again. Rhonda did become a close friend. Occasionally, we will give in to a romantic escape. But true friendship is always more important. I am so glad I met. Her freedom on the river has changed me for the better.