It was a cool June morning and I was feeling creative, so I grabbed a guitar, a notebook and a cup of coffee, and I walked down to my dock. It's my favorite place to write songs. I live on the shore of a quiet lake in upstate New York, a really beautiful spot that never fails to inspire me. I sipped on my coffee and enjoyed the scenery for a few minutes, and then I warmed up my fingers on the guitar and played through a few of my usual tunes. On certain days the air is just right and the guitar sounds extra nice drifting on the breeze. Today was one of those days, and I got lost in the joy of playing. After one long passage with my eyes closed I was startled to hear a female voice.
"You play so beautifully. I could sit here all day and listen to that."
"Oh, I didn't see you there. Thank you for the compliment. Some days it just seems to flow out of me."
"Well, I'm glad I was passing by on such a day," she said.
She was in a kayak about twenty feet away from me, sitting motionless on the flat water. She put her paddle in the water and very slowly came towards the dock. "You have a beautiful home," she said. "I've often admired it."
"Oh Thanks," I said. "Do you live around here?"
"No, I live in a loft downtown, but I love this part of the lake and I paddle it quite a bit. The first time was with a women's kayak club a couple years ago, but these days I mostly come on my own. It's so peaceful here."
She was much closer now, and I was able to get a good look at her. She was about my age — late thirties — with very curly dark red hair, freckles on her face and the most amazing pale grey eyes. They were big and slightly cat-like, with a tantalizing inner light. She had on a thick white cotton sweatshirt with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows, and since I was now looking down on her I could see her slim but shapely hips and thighs encased in tight, faded blue jeans.
We chatted a bit about kayaking, the local osprey nest and the other wildlife, and then she said she had better press on if she was going to cover any ground today. She had started to drift away from the dock when she said, "I'm Kim by the way," with a glowing smile.
"I'm John. It's been nice talking to you Kim."
She smiled at me with those luminescent eyes and slowly paddled away.
I spent the next two hours working on a song about a girl with pale grey eyes. It wasn't my best work, but there were definitely sections of it that I could continue to work on. It was lunchtime so I left my guitar on the chair and went up to the house to take a break and make a sandwich. The wind picked up sharply and I remembered the morning weather forecast had said there was a strong warm front approaching and we might get some strong winds and a thunderstorm. I wolfed down my sandwich and went back down to get my guitar. I love watching approaching storms so I put my guitar under cover in a screened porch on the patio next to the dock that the previous owners called 'the summer house', and then I walked back out to the end of the dock and sat with my legs dangling over the edge, and watched a line of very dark clouds that were approaching fast. The wind was really blowing, and whitecaps were building on the water. Just then I heard a voice yell out my name.
"John!"
It was Kim, about 100 feet from me, paddling as hard as she could against the wind. She was having a rough ride, with waves splashing over the bow of her boat, but she was making headway. I had a powerboat up on a hoist that I could use to help her if she needed it, but she was slowly getting closer.
She was still about 30 feet away when the squall line hit. It felt like about a 60 mile-an-hour gust and her kayak capsized, with thunder and lightning cracking all around us. Luckily the wind shifted a bit and pushed her towards the far end of my shoreline, and I ran over and waded out chest deep to help her. As the skies opened and it poured down rain, I tipped her kayak up to get some of the water out of it and pulled it up onto my lawn. Kim threw her paddle next to it, and I took her by the arm and led her to the shelter of the summer house.
"Holy shit! That storm came up awfully fast" I said as I looked out at some big branches that had blown down in my yard. "Are you all right?"
We were both dripping wet from head to toe, and Kim was trembling. "Yeah, I'm OK," she said, with a slightly shocked look on her face, "but that was scary."
The squall line passed quickly and the wind was back to a light breeze, the thunder and lightning were moving off, and it was just a steady rain. The air was noticeably warmer behind the storm, but Kim was shaking like a leaf, both from the cold water and the scare. "Let's go up to the house and get dried out," I said.
I put my arm around her and we walked up the path in the rain. We entered into the kitchen and I took off my soggy shoes and socks. Kim was barefoot.
"Did you loose your shoes?" I asked.
"They were just flip-flops. It's OK."
She started to pull off her sopping wet sweatshirt, but the shirt under it was coming up with it revealing a tight, well toned belly covered in goosebumps. "Could you hold my shirt down for me please?" she asked. I did and she removed the sweatshirt, revealing a thin white cotton shirt plastered to her body. It was very see-through due to the wetness, and her thin lacy black bra was clearly visible, as were the rock hard nipples on her perfectly proportioned tits. This was my first look at her petite athletic body, and the combination of it and those incredible luminescent eyes left me speechless.
