01 At Last

First times: 01 -- At last...

This is another series of short stories, very short stories, in some cases. I got the idea after writing Hope and Aida's first encounter IRL after a long courtship via email.

Thanks again to Valphund for his editing. As always, any mistake is mine.

*****

Gracie's been my best friend forever. Her family bought a cottage when she was little. I remember the day they moved in well.

I was working on my tan... All the kids at elementary school were, that summer. The fall before, the new teacher had made quite the impression with his buff surfer's body and deep tan. We all promised ourselves to match him come September.

I heard a squeal of delight, the patter of small feet running on the wood of the quay next door, then a loud splash followed by a gentle admonition.

"Baby girl, I told you to wait for me." Another splash.

I only moved my head, not wishing to intrude on the family moment.

A woman was playing in the water with a young girl who must have been part-dolphin. Even at her obvious young age, she was swimming circles around her mother, who laughed happily at her antics.

I turned on my belly, chest raised on my forearms, and smiled as I watched them enjoy themselves. They looked my way, and we exchanged nods of greeting.

The little girl disappeared underwater only to surface a few feet from where I lay.

"Hello. My name is Gracie. What's yours?" She asked seriously, though there was a twinkle in her eye.

"I'm Marsha. Welcome to Silver Lake."

In the next few minutes, I learned that she was six, loved swimming (well, duh) and was going to be an astronaut when she grew up. Her laugh was infectious.

Looking back, I think I fell in love at that moment.

Her parents were University teachers who had bought the cottage so they could have as much time with their daughter as possible during the summer, since their jobs took a lot of their time the rest of the year. It was a very loving family.

That very first week-end, I began to babysit for them.

We spent a lot of time together. I lost a few friends when they complained that she was always underfoot. I took her fishing with my dad, early in the morning. We canoed along the shore. She loved to watch fishes swim above the sandy bottom through the crystal clear water. We went to the isolated beach in a deep bay across the lake where we could skinny dip. It was quite the adventure for her. We invented stories of being marooned like Robinson Crusoe as we played on the tiny island in the middle of the lake.

Every year, I was sad when they closed the cottage and left for the city. How often did I wish she was sitting in front of me as I rode our snowmobile in the winter? Or turned to point out something as I cross-country skied along the trails, but she wasn't at my side.

I played it cool when they returned every summer. It wouldn't do for her parents to know how I exulted at having her run to me and jump in my arms the moment their car stopped. Thankfully, it had become a ritual of sorts over the years, so it was still natural when she was twelve and I had become a budding young woman at eighteen.

We never told them of our naturist activities. It was our very own private thing.

*****

This year, when the eighteen year old ran to me, there was something different about her. She was still the exuberant girl I had missed these last ten months, only she had poise, grace. The child had become a woman.

Gracie was a cuddler, always was, with her parents, with me. I hadn't watched a movie in twelve years without holding a pillow against myself when I couldn't have her sitting on my lap, embracing her, feeling her head rest on my chest. My parents teased me for my misty eyes, even when we were watching a comedy.

In recent years, our expeditions at our secluded beach had become more subdued. We still played in the water, but spent more time holding each other closely, bodies molded together.

As much as I wanted to, I never came out to my family or anyone else in fear that Gracie's parents would look askance at out closeness.

Later, I was tanning on our quay, daydreaming of the time we would spend together that summer, wearing the smallest two-piece my mother would accept, when I heard the familiar voice only feet away.

"Mother prepared a picnic for us. It's in the Starcraft. All that's missing is you."

"Won't they be using it? We could take our launch."

"It's all right. They said it's ours and to enjoy ourselves. So, are you coming?"

I rolled over the edge and joined her.

I often had to slip underwater to cool myself as her hands brushed against my nearly bare breasts and ass while we frolicked in the water on our way to the motor boat.

I gasped when she pulled herself onto their quay. Her bikini was even skimpier than mine.

We unmoored and pushed off. She was careful to go slowly until we cleared of the shore, then she pushed the throttle to the end of its course with a shout of glee.

As we did every year, we made our way around the lake so she could get reacquainted with it. I pointed out the new chalets, those which had been renovated or changed owners.

She sat on the driver seat's backrest. I stood behind her, hands on the cushion, my arms touching hers, chin resting on her shoulder, cheeks in contact so I didn't have to shout to be heard over the wind and the engine. All in all, very much aware of my breasts pressed against her bare back, the thin string of her top and the narrow strip of mine the only things between us.

Finally, we were there. She pulled back on the throttle so our wake didn't disturb our beach. I jumped in the water to pull the boat ashore and tied it to a log. I thought it was a lot when she handed me the large cooler and duffle bag, but my eyes were riveted to the gorgeous woman who was leaning above me.

She pulled out our old blanket with two beach towels. She spread the blanket at its usual place and brought out a bottle of chilled champagne and two glass flutes.

I was a bit wild-eyed when she sauntered over to me sensuously. I couldn't repress a moan as she molded her body to mine and rested her head on my shoulder, her breath hot on my neck. Her arms embracing me, she pulled on the string holding my top and those on my bottom. I followed her lead. We pulled apart only long enough to let the bits of cloth drop on the sand.

Her nipples were as hard like mine. The pussy she slid on my thigh wet like mine. Her eyes burning with desire like mine.

"Mother said she doesn't want to see us until tomorrow or the day after. She's had enough of watching me languish for you. I love you, Marsha."

The day was suddenly much brighter as our lips met for the first time.