6 comments/ 26804 views/ 11 favorites The Water Hole By: Justmyimagination Moving at a slow walk, his horse was restless. He was deep in the brush country. He was in no hurry since the pain had stopped. Might be a bad sign. Served him right for catchin' arrows, his sergeant had told him. Reckon I'll try not to next time. The crusty old sergeant couldn't get any closer to saying thank you. The arrow most surely would have penetrated his skull. But the ranger blocked it with his hand. At least it was easy to pull out. Even so, his company sent him back to get it looked at. He could hardly refuse since the last skirmish seemed to be decisive. The Commanche raiders were decimated and what was left of them were high-tailing it back across the Red River. He could hear water as he dodged the low branches and hanging vines of a thicket. His horse was thirsty, as was he, and the hand needed cleaning, probably. Soundlessly, man and horse picked a trail down a hill toward the noisy stream. A rocky ledge rose upstream from him as he neared, and he found an old game trail at its base. He couldn't see the stream through the thicket. The ground broke downward, away from the ledge to more level ground twenty feet below. He made his way down, angling toward the stream. He just caught a glimpse of the water as a massive bramble hedge forced him to move parallel to the stream as he reached the bottom of the stream. His luck. He figured he must have chosen the very worst path through this mess. Then he stopped his horse suddenly, peering through the dense undergrowth over the hedge at the pool at the bottom of the hill. Rapids formed as the stream tumbled down the rocky ledge and hill. The water was clear and fresh. He needed to water his horse, but he sat motionless on his mount, which obediently froze, as he had done on dozens of frontier scouting trips as they neared enemy camps. The horse knew that a person was near. The ranger cast his steely gaze across the pool, well hidden in the thicket. She was wearing a light cotton linen dress that buttoned down the front and touched the curves of her body with delicate simple grace. Her long red hair shined in the sunlight and her loosely bound pony tail danced around her head and shoulders as she carefully made her way to a rock on the edge of the pool. The normally well-mannered ranger was spellbound. Frozen in his saddle, he would not make his presence known. He quietly watched her sit down on the rock. Her ponytail swayed in front of her as she leaned over. She pulled her dress up to her thighs, dangled her feet in the water and reclined on her hands. He admired the shape of her well-toned calves. He was not used to seeing a woman's legs. She straightened them in front of her, lifting her feet, dripping out of the water. So much beautiful, smooth skin. He sighed. She relaxed her feet and sat up as she raised her arms to loosen her long tresses behind her. Her breasts rose with her arms under the now taut fabric of her thin dress, embracing their smooth roundness. Her shape was flawless, from her shoulders, down her sides, around her waist, over her hips and down her legs; it was pure beauty to him. And then her hair exploded in freedom as it poured down around her like brilliant sunset-colored champagne. He dared not breathe lest the vision evaporate before him. She lifted her feet onto the rock and stood, reaching for the buttons on her dress. One by one, they were released, opening the garment down her chest. Just as the ranger glimpsed soft round skin, she turned toward an outstretched tree branch behind her. With her back to him, she finished unbuttoning her dress. She bent over for the bottom ones, allowing the dress to outline her smooth buttocks. Then standing relaxed, she raised her hands from the elbows and slipped the dress off her shoulders, dropping it around her ankles. Silently, the ranger gasped. He had always been shy around girls. Even in the settlements, when his company chased off a band of Commanches that had laid siege to a whole town for days, the grateful women and admiring girls who came to express their heartfelt gratitude, high admiration and even romantic interest caused him to shrink in embarrassment. But this was different. Though hypnotized, an electric surge coursed through his body. He had no idea that the sight of a beautiful nude woman could be so rigidly gripping. But he was not only seeing her. He was experiencing her. The surging sensation he felt multiplied as she turned around, facing him, and crouched to pick up her dress. He shuddered, watching her hang her dress on the tree and happily inhale the clean air. To him, her simple easy motions flowed like an elegant dance. Every muscle was laid bare before him, flexing and relaxing with each movement of her body. She was free and comfortable, peacefully at one with her surroundings. She strode around the rock to the edge of the pool and slowly lowered herself down the steep bank into the water. The ranger watched the joy exude from her as she crouched in the shallow water and relished the sensation of the water on her bare skin. She then stood, glistening thigh deep on a submerged rock ledge. He had read about mermaids, but his imagination had been incapable of conjuring an image so sweet and desirable. Her neck, collarbone, shoulders, tummy, thighs, those wonderful breasts and hips, and that dazzling spectacular bright red hair, all over, stunned him. She dove into the deep part of the pool, splashing, swimming and treading water. He watched her skinny-dipping, enjoying herself in spite of being by herself. The horse understood the danger of spying close in to a Commanche war camp. He was able to control his thirst and his restlessness. To him, spying was a matter of life or death. But now to the ranger, it was only life. It was abundant life as he saw the woman frolicking in the water. Eventually she swam over to the rock where she had gotten in and rose from the water. She stood dripping wet, with the water lapping at her shapely thighs. She reached for the bar of soap she had left nearby and began producing lather, generously spreading it across her body. The suds slowly crept down over her chest, ribs and thighs, and flowed into and around her pubic island. She slowly stroked the smooth soap over her waist, up her ribs, between her breasts to her shoulders and neck, more for herself than just to clean her body. She raised her face with her eyes closed and lips slightly parted. She enjoyed her own touch, down her abdomen, down her legs and up her thighs, across her furry patch of pubic hair and up her tummy to her breasts. There her hands lingered. Again, he sighed. He could not imagine the feel of her breasts in his hands, yet he longed for a touch. Clad only in bubbles, she swayed as she caressed, rocking in a slow dreamy trance. With her fingers, she began flicking and pinching her nipples, squeezing and gently pulling them in the slick soapy foam. He closed his own eyes in her pleasure until a soft moan drifted to his ears awakening his attention again. Another moan escaped her open lips, louder and longer. The ranger swallowed. She smiled and giggled as she suddenly slipped into the water again, glancing at the rapid to her right, just upstream. The foamy bubbles that clung to her skin slipped away, dissolving her only attire as the cool stream engulfed her warm, warm body. She swam over to a rock jutting through the water's surface at the base of the little rapid. Small bursts of sparkling white water poured over its smooth surface. She pulled up from the stream next to it and leaned over to the rock, throwing her feet upon it. For a moment she steadied herself on the rock, standing bent over with her bottom facing the ranger, with her legs apart, revealing to him more than he knew was there. She sat down with her legs draped over the downstream side of the rock. Her wet skin glistened in the sun as she looked down at her own body and embraced her bosom. The water poured over her thighs as she parted her legs. She stroked her inner thighs from her knees to the very tops of her legs and up the front of her body. She began stroking her breasts as before, wiggling on the rock for extra stimulation from its rough hard surface. As she regained her previous level of arousal, she slid her hand down her abdomen, over her vulva and massaged. Under the ranger's watchful eyes, she inserted a finger and touched herself. Through her careful manipulations, she was able to sustain an even higher level of pleasure for a long time, which she did with blissful patience, adding fingers to embellish her sensations. She squealed with delight as she removed her hand from between her legs and spun herself around on the rock to face the oncoming stream. With her hands braced behind her on the rock, she slowly opened her thighs once more, this time to the pulsing thrusts of pressurized water. She positioned her hips so the water hit her on just the right spot in just the right way. She moaned loudly as the intense sensations flowed into her. She gasped and flinched as the water channeled between her open legs throbbing into her sensitive point of pleasure. The moans became louder and closer together as she quickly allowed herself to wash away in waves of pleasure that caused her to jump and thrash on the rock. Her deep moans were finally punctuated with a loud reckless shriek of ecstatic release. She closed her legs and slumped forward in fulfillment as the ranger stared with his jaw wide open. He sat in silent amazement as she slid off the rock with a contented smile, swam over to the bank, arose from the water, and turned back toward the stream, facing him again. The tightness in his crotch was unbearable, but he would not move as long as he could drink in the beauty and intimacy of the moment. She still stood there facing him, naked and natural, joyfully content, totally comfortable with her body and herself. His heart went after her as she slowly turned and raised herself, dripping from the stream. She gathered her dress and carried it back up the trail and out of sight. Because of the thick brush and steep banks, it was over two hundred yards and thirty minutes before the ranger could ford the stream with his horse. He tried to pick his way through the saplings and briars on the other side without shredding his horse's legs. Finally he broke through to a narrow trail wide enough for the horse. He wasn't surprised to find that it soon led to a small cabin. He stopped his horse and gazed. He was desperate to see her again but paralyzed in his fears and insecurities. If he saw her and talked to her, she might suspect what he had just done. She couldn't be happy about being spied upon, especially doing what she had done. He felt sure to be scorned. But an unfamiliar hunger had been awakened in him. It would not be refused. "Hello inside," he respectfully called, announcing his presence. Soon the door opened. She was even more gorgeous up close. She was now wearing the linen dress, and he knew she was clean. "Texas Ranger, ma'am." He spoke with clear gentle authority. His piercing eyes, good horse and firm courteous manner revealed no guile. He carried a shotgun, rifle, two colts and a bowie knife. It was no lie. A warm flushed smile graced her face. "What can I do for you, ranger?" "Need some water, ma'am." She smiled. The same sensuous contentment he saw earlier flashed across her face. "Got plenty of good water." Really good, she thought. "Just head down the trail out back to the creek. There's a real nice spot down there." Very nice. "Thank you." "What's wrong with your hand?" "Caught an arrow." She moved quickly to him. "Get down and let me look at it." Having worked with a doctor for a couple of years, she had treated worse wounds. But an arrow through the hand was serious. She knew the dangers of infection better than most people did, including the ranger. She was well-trained and competent as she herded him to her table with professional urgency. She threw out the bloody bandanna he had wrapped his hand with and cleaned the wound carefully. She knew it had to hurt. But he didn't flinch. He was close to her and she was touching him. He could smell her hair and feel her soft breath as she attended his wound. Now he was glad he had caught the arrow. Her friendly chatter was a glorious song resonating within his breast. She helped her Daddy build this little place before he was killed in the war for Independence from Mexico. Mama died when she was little. Consumption. Rangers made this part of the country pretty safe and she couldn't see herself living anywhere else, she said. She raised some livestock and chickens, selling butter and eggs in town. She worked with the doctor there, too. It was harder living out of town. She could move if she wanted to but she liked living out here. Her Daddy had found such a lovely spot on the creek that she didn't want to leave. No, she had never married. He was courteous, polite and respectful, but quiet. She was barely able to draw out of him that he was twenty-nine, and never married either. She could see he was strong and self-controlled. How could a man go through cleaning a wound like that without flinching? He never even complained about the pain. He would not have even bothered her with his injury if she hadn't asked. His eyes were piercing but gentle. When he looked at her, she felt as if this man knew her more intimately than he betrayed. It was as if he saw more than just her eyes and hair, but all of her, without undressing her with his eyes. It was as if he knew her to the core. It made her feel exposed vulnerable and a little fearful. Yet his gracious, considerate manner made her feel safe. A pleasant surge of moist warmth rose beneath her stomach. She was intrigued and eager to know more, if he would stay. She sat closely, touching his side and arm and had leaned forward to work on his hand. When she finished, she looked up at him. They were face to face. They could see little more than each other's eyes and they could feel each other's breath. For a moment, they froze as each absorbed the tension of restrained interest. Then, the ranger did as he would have done in a confrontation with hostiles, seizing the initiative, taking a gamble. Perhaps it was high risk, but he sensed something was there to make it worthwhile. He leaned slowly forward and kissed her gently on the lips. He stopped, and they resumed their intimate confrontation. He searched her surprised face for some sign of response. A smile, a laugh, even a slap in the face would have told him what he wanted to know. But the expression on her face confused and worried him. He had ruined with boldness his chances with a woman whose desirability intimidated him. He could not have ignored his attraction to her, but now he was wishing he could have done something else to communicate his interest. Then she kissed him, and her soft lips told him he had done nothing unwelcome. "I need to give you a poultice," she said. "Go get your water and I'll get it together." "Thank you." "If you can stay, I can rustle you up some food. Why don't you clean up while you're down there? Not to be offensive, but you've been rangin' for weeks, haven't you?" Blushing, he nodded. "There's some soap on the back porch." The soap was still damp. It was impossible not to think about what she had done with it earlier. The trail was more of a tunnel through the brush. The entrance to the tunnel was overgrown with the soft tangled tufts of wild grape with colorful spots of flowering vines. The ground was worn slick and smooth. Soft moss grew around it and thick vegetation lined the inner walls. The soft leaves and moss were dripping wet from the thick humidity within. He hesitated. It was just a trail, but it led to a special spot that to him represented the inner reaches of her desire. And yet, it was inevitable that he go there to be cleansed, purified and made whole. With shy determination, he penetrated the soft smooth dampened channel to the flowing stream within, and the rock where he had witnessed her privacy. As he removed his clothes he could not shake the sensation that he was sharing this moment with her. His imagination would not let go of the nude, dream-like vision he had seen earlier. And because of that, the rock was not the only thing down there that was hard. It took a while for him to wash his clothes. As he hung them on the same branch that held her light dress, his firmness had not diminished. Lathering up, he remembered her hands touching herself not just to clean, but with self-intimacy. He found himself doing the same. As he cleaned his rigid member the electric surges he had felt through his body returned. He got more soap and replayed the whole dream in his mind. * * * She got a meal ready, despite her distractions. The sweet warmth between her legs was not as gentle now. Her hand kept reaching down there, fondling herself through the fabric of her dress. Oh, how she would love to cast it aside and find her pleasure as she had found it in the creek this morning. But there was no telling when the ranger would come back up. How could his presence do this to her? Was she still worked up from her earlier fantasies? Now she had a face on her fantasy that was real and outside her cabin down at her creek bathing. She had never wanted to throw herself at anyone, never was really tempted. As she thought about him, though, she felt her body becoming more sensitive. She could feel the light dress she wore against her stiffening nipples and the most inconsequential drafts blew like pleasant breezes up her dress. She wondered how awkward she appeared trying to control herself. Here she was. Dinner ready. Poultice ready. No Ranger. As she walked down the trail, she thought, surely he's had enough time to . . . maybe not. A wicked smile streaked across her face. She quickened her pace. She found him in the middle of the creek with his back toward her. He was lean, healthy and well toned. He had a nice round butt and a strong back and thighs. And he was still wet and covered with soap. A hand was gliding over his chest, stomach, neck and shoulders in a gentle sensuous circle. His other hand was reaching between his legs, barely moving in front of him. His face was turned up with his eyes closed in a quiet trance. The sight gave her pause. Subconsciously, her own hands brushed her torso, sliding up to her breasts, teasing the hardened nipples through her dress. She, too, liked the feel of wet slick soapy skin . . . a lot. "I was getting worried about you, ranger," she gently teased. Startled, he turned quickly. With a small gasp, she giggled. She was not prepared to see him in his aroused condition. He could not hide. Modesty was lost. "You seem to be doing just fine." She hadn't hoped for as much as she saw when she was sneaking up on him. She swung her weight onto one leg and relaxed the other. The linen dress rippled gently in the breeze. She clutched her other arm in front of her, framing her bosom. Her hand rested on the soft curve of her hip and thigh. Her head tilted slightly forward and to the side allowing her loose hair to hang beside her face, pouring beside her round breast. She raised her hand and stroked a wisp of hair over her ear, slowly shifting her weight as she looked at him with a not so innocent grin. Her stance and her subtle movement did nothing to relieve the pressure between his legs. "Your dinner's ready," she said softly as she turned in display, allowing him to see her own shape. Then with sudden boldness, she stopped with her legs a little apart and turned her shoulders to look back at him. An arm dangled before her butt and her hair poured down her back as she looked over her shoulder. "I fried chicken for you. You're gonna like my legs and thighs. But I want you to try my breasts." Then she took his clothes and sauntered away. The Water Hole He walked naked up the trail, apprehensive but excited. He found his clothes hanging on the line with the light cotton dress hung conspicuously beside them. Good place for all that, he thought. When he entered the cabin, she came toward him with the poultice wearing a full-length apron, and nothing else. It barely hid the nipples on her soft round breasts and hung very high on her thighs. Nothing masked his excitement. She tied the poultice quickly and skillfully and turned away from him toward the table. All that graced her back were the long wavy strands of her shining red hair and the neat bow tying the apron strings around her waist with a little bit of excess dangling between her soft round cheeks. She slowly and deliberately stepped around the table, swaying her hips and flexing her buttocks, to the other side where she had left the only chair. She looked over her shoulder to see if he was watching. She found it excited her to be watched. With her naked back to him toward the table, she placed her hands on the edge in front of the chair and slid her bare bottom onto the smooth wood. "You can sit here," she said, sitting up with her back arched looking at him playfully demure over her raised shoulder. She made sure to toss her long red tresses to punctuate the enticement. Naked and hard, he could not disobey. That he accepted her invitation shyly only turned her on more. He stood bashfully in front of her. "You can kiss me," she invited gently. She accepted his meager embarrassed peck. But his passion was still building. She sat before him confidently, playfully, and almost naked. The apron draped between her parted legs barely touching the table, hiding the soft red bush beneath it. With her back arched, her breasts pressed the thin fabric that covered them. Her erect nipples were apparent underneath. The kiss had reintroduced her proximity, warmth and her scent. He felt the blood begin flowing faster through his veins. "You can hold me while you kiss me, too, if you like," she encouraged. He reached down and grabbed her rib cage and lifted her mouth to his. She reached around his neck and met his passion. Each had scarcely ever touched anyone of the opposite sex before. Neither had been in love, let alone consumed in the erotic fire that was now engulfing them. His muscles were rigid as he squeezed her torso into himself. She felt herself pulled into his burning body. She absorbed the flames through her own hungry flesh as she locked her lips over his mouth and tasted him. His soft wet membranes inside slid smoothly across hers. The gentle rhythms of lovemaking began to rock them together. But she was determined that her first experience should be slower. Though his arms lashed her helplessly to his body, she gradually wrested her mouth from his. "Sit down," she gasped as his wet lips slid down her neck. She sat before him with her back arched and hands on the table trying to emphasize for him her thinly draped bosom. Her legs were open, facing him with only the small apron between her dampened genitalia and his whim. She whipped her tousled hair about as she raised her elbows over her head and reached to untie the strings holding the top of the apron around her neck. The fabric fell in front of her as she dropped her hands down to either side of her hips. He savored the sight. He was in no hurry. His desire to look at every part of her naked body equaled her desire to be seen. She felt beautiful and erotic as his eyes swept over her smooth milky flesh lingering on the curves and structure of her shape. But dominating his attention were the smooth orbs of her freshly exposed breasts and the hardened nipples reaching out for his touch. She shifted her shoulders making them bounce and jiggle for him. A surge of arousal rose within her as he smiled and looked up at her. Clearly he enjoyed her playful tease, but she wanted him to have more. She reached down for his good hand and placed it gently on the soft underside of her breast. His rough but gentle touch was exquisite. She closed her eyes as his touch explored her soft globes carefully and thoroughly. She had never exposed herself to anyone, and now she was allowing herself to be fondled. And she liked it. She let out a small gasp and bit her lip as his fingers brushed her nipple. Noticing her reaction, he concentrated his attentions on the center of her breasts, flicking and petting the sensitive tips. Still holding onto the table, she opened her eyes and leaned back slightly out of his reach, looking at him with a pleased smile. Eyes locked on his, she reached for his head. Fondling his hair for a moment, she then drew his face closer to her excited breasts. She stopped him just short of her erect nipple and barely brushed his lips. She braced her hands on the table behind her when he, as expected, began to kiss her breast. He continued to kiss the soft flesh all over each breast then nuzzled the nipples as he kissed and licked. Then he sucked the nipples into his mouth one at a time, and vigorously tongued them. He rested one hand on her hip and pressed against the small of her back with the other. His hand drifted from her hip finding her leg, abdomen and loins. Then he drew it over the apron flap and pressed into her genital mound. Hers were the only hands that had explored there before, but she embraced his shoulders, quietly pleading for him to continue. Still, he would not reach under the apron. She realized that in the midst of their passion, he still respected what covering there was and required her permission to proceed. She held his shoulders and gently, reluctantly pushed him off of her breasts. He still sat on the edge of his chair. Her chest was heaving and dripping with his saliva. She slowly reached down with one hand and smiled at his eager anticipation. It tantalized her that he respected her body and would honor her limits. But it thrilled her to be the object of his lust. She wanted his lust to so overpower him that she would be trapped in the storm of his uncontrolled passion, taken forcefully for his desire and captured in his manhood. She wanted to receive him fully and unrestrained. So she prepared to present herself to his hungry desire and tease him into becoming hungrier still. She pinched the hem and held it delicately for a moment as she watched his face. His eyes were locked between her open legs and he licked his lips, wet from eating her nipples. Slowly she began to raise the thin fabric. He held his breath. The slow deliberate and almost ceremonial unveiling of her self multiplied the arousal they both felt. As she raised the apron, she suddenly felt exposed. She felt a cool breeze caressing her damp womanhood. She was fully revealed. Now, no part of her body was hidden from his view. The realization caused her to flinch. Her reflex was to slap her legs together. Instead she trembled uncertainly, wondering if she should keep her pleasure comfortably to herself. She no longer felt in control, but was too embarrassed to retreat completely. She lowered the apron and held it down with her fingers. Her other arm clasped her bosom as she tried, shyly to hide herself again. He looked up at her face, fearful she decided she was making a mistake. He saw her hesitation. She reminded him of a scared little girl who had spoken to a stranger, wondering if she had done something wrong. But she was a woman, she was beautiful, she was naked, and she was clearly still aroused. He gently braced her thighs open as she began to press her legs together. She started this. She had wanted to be ravished. Was she now going to get her wish? Would he take her, now that she questioned her own resolve? She was afraid she started something she could not stop even with the withdrawal of her desire. Would he laugh at her? She felt shame. Would he be angry? She felt fear. Would she be raped? He looked gently in her eyes and smiled. Seeing the fear in her eyes, he gently brought her legs together. With his hands placed lightly on her thighs, he slowly raised himself from the chair until his face was on level with hers. He still breathed heavily in his arousal. She panted in uncertain fear. And he looked at her. She saw his desire in his intense gaze. But as he stood there, still and steady looking in her uncertain eyes, she realized he was not going to force her into anything. Slowly her former resolve began to build again. Her fearful panting became deeper and slower. Her embarrassed blush began to glow as her own desire resurfaced. She lunged for his mouth as she capitulated to her lust. And she felt within her a reward: the surging electricity of passion and a wave of dampening arousal between her legs. She broke off the kiss. Arching her back, she raised herself as she reached behind to untie the last cord on her apron. She cast it aside and leaned back on her hands on the table. Now her heavy breathing told him she was ready. She spread her legs for his perusal. He reached between her legs and touched the soft tufts of hair. She reached for him again and drew him to her lips as he stroked and fondled her. No one else had ever touched her there before. Never had she even considered sharing her pleasure with anyone except faceless imaginary lovers that visited when she was aroused and left when she was satisfied. She allowed herself to be gently explored by this mysterious and intriguing man. It was the fulfillment of a lifetime of erotic fantasies. The added dimension of reality augmented every sensation. Unlike pleasuring herself, she gave away a part of herself to receive pleasure from him. The thrill of igniting his passion and witnessing his arousal made her want to be his object, the vehicle of his fulfillment. But for her fulfillment to be complete, his hand needed the knowledge possessed only by hers. She reached down and placed her hand over his as he continued his delicate massage. They stroked and brushed her outer genitalia together. Then she singled out his index finger and guided it through the soft hot folds of her labia into her wet vaginal tube. He felt as if he had entered a private but ecstatic celebration, overflowing with joy and unrestrained in it's expressions of jubilation. He was a pioneer now, exploring virgin territory, holding hands with an expert guide who knew every dark corner, the nuances of every sensation and how to stimulate her absolute pleasure. Not only had he penetrated her, she had penetrated herself. She swished his finger with her own inside of her, sharing the delights of her moist vagina. She made sure his finger was thoroughly covered with her dampness before leading it out and up, to reveal to him the secret of womanly fulfillment. She gasped sharply when he first brushed her clitoris. She flinched, but persisted in keeping his finger on that spot, teaching him how to please her. He learned quickly, but she kept her hand on his to maintain her feeling of togetherness with him. He had seen her do it by herself and was deeply aroused. Now he was undertaking the task on his own. And he did so with relish, finding it pleasurable and arousing to please and arouse her. He stood to get a better angle between her legs. He towered over her, still reaching down to maintain the intimacy of their prolonged kiss. As he did she began to feel him taking control. She yielded, relinquishing herself to his power. She felt his hard penis brush the inside of her naked thigh, leaving its sticky fluid on her. She had seen livestock mating and had only imagined the human erection when she played in the water. But this close, to see and to feel it touch her filled her with lustful wonder. She reached for it and touched it. Its size and feel was not unlike tool handles and vegetables she was familiar with. But this belonged there. She shifted her hips in anticipation of being filled. His natural gentleness imbued his finger with exceptional skill at this special task. Her sharp breaths and undulating body betrayed her pleasure. But she didn't want to hide her pleasure now. She wanted to share it and share it totally. She guided his rigid hard-on to the crease between her legs, displacing his finger with his soft sensitive glans and wiggled him over her clitoris. It was perfect bliss. She believed she had done a good job in bringing herself to orgasmic pleasure in the past, but the touch of his hardness on her most sensitive spot was far beyond what her own efforts had been. She wiggled him faster as they neared release. He began to moan softly from sensations he had never before imagined and instinctively began the male motion, thrusting up and outside her inner lips. The time had come. Timing his thrust with her guiding hand, she swallowed his aching cock into her hot wet pussy. Simultaneously their wide open eyes met as they retreated from their kiss and gazed into each others amazed and bewildered faces, covered in the innocent wonder of their shared first experience. She held his hips as he began thrusting. They were both too close to hold back for more than a dozen thrusts. He exploded within her. She felt his semen splashing against her insides. Filled completely with him and his seed, she exploded in an orgasm so thrilling and stupendous that only her piercing and extended scream, filling the cabin and surely audible for some distance, could come close to communicating to him the degree of her rapture. Afterwards, they fell asleep on top of her bed in a naked embrace for what turned out to be an afternoon rest from their sexual exhaustion. They awoke together and kissed in gentle thanks to one another. She felt his awakening desire grow against her thigh. He was still tender and moist from her juices. But a lingering fear grasped her thoughts. Had the passing exotic stranger just used her? Was she no more than a used disposable plaything, a good fuck and a story? "You haven't had your supper yet, Ranger." He lifted himself on one arm and looked down at her. Her disheveled hair scattered around her face blanketing the covers around her head. "I hadn't missed it." "Do you want to eat?" "Umm..." Dammit! He's leaving! He's used me and he's just gonna leave! "What is it, Ranger?" Her voice trembled and she drew her hand over her breast. "Umm, I guess I was just hoping..." "What?" "... for seconds?" He just knew he would get slapped and kicked out now. He loathed his selfish urges. God, can I take that back? "Depends on how long you're plannin' to stay." "Stay?" "For supper, anyway?" "Yeah." "And it's getting dark. You'll need to stay somewhere tonight." "Reckon so." "You could stay here. Sleep in this bed." "This bed?" "Yeah. With me. Is that a problem?" "Reckon not." "Maybe you should stay at least until your hand gets better." "At least." A delightful tingle began rolling between her legs. She could not see herself refusing to give her body over to him again, if he wanted her. Yet she wanted to be more than his water hole, dipping into her for his own refreshment and then moving on. She never intended to allow any man to have her before she married. And then this happened. She felt enslaved to an uncontrollable urge. This man did something to her that fulfilled her every erotic wish. But he handled her like a precious gem, a tender and delicate flower. How could she love him so quickly? He must think I do this all the time. Does he think I am some kind of ravenous whore? Have I become his slut for the day? "Umm, when you reckon you might leave, Ranger?" He hesitated. My God. He'd never stay with me. I seduced him when he was nothing more than a stranger and he wants someone who wouldn't just spread her legs for him on a whim. "Do I gotta leave?" Her face lit up and she gasped, almost imperceptibly. Enough for him to notice. "I was kinda hoping for more of..." He shyly paused. The tingle between her legs erupted into her stomach and chilled her spine. "More of what?" He blushed, and smiled. "You." She giggled. Her giddy smile made him smile, too. He stroked her loose hair with his fingers. "You want me now?" They looked deeply and breathlessly into one another. "You want to?" "Uh huh." She reached for his growing member and fondled him. She marveled at his swiftly growing pleasure in her hand. "Take all you want." She slipped him inside. He thrust himself fully into her, pushing, filling her. She embraced him and they kissed, fusing their bodies into one hot throbbing mass of flesh joined together, not to be torn asunder. * * * Years later, they were still living in the small cabin by the creek. They had been careful to nurture the thick brush around the little pool. A preacher came through and they married, with two of their kids present. But they considered the date of their first encounter to be their anniversary. Each year they were careful to commemorate it much as they celebrated their "wedding day."