We sit in that swing for an hour or more, just holding each other, volumes spoken without syllables. You began to slip off to sleep after a while, but you hadn't been out long when it began to get a bit warm. You sit up, sliding the blanket off of you, stand up and stretch in front of me, facing the view. I was going to tell you that the shirt rode up just enough that I could see your sexy behind and the bottom of your white panties just beneath...but I didn't. I just enjoyed the view.
"Got warm quickly, didn't it?" you comment.
"Downright hot from here," I reply, reaching out and giving your rear end a quick grope.
You turn to face me. I'm sitting up on the edge of the swing now, so even though you're standing, you're barely a head higher. "You are just absolutely incorrigible, sir!" you mock-scold me. By way of answer, I reach my hands out to your hips, and draw you closer, then reach around you and resume my grip on your butt. Standing straight up, I rise to look down to you, and part of the result is that my hands rise a bit as well, effectively baring your panty-covered derriere.
"Yes, ma'am, I majored in Incorrigible; got my Master's in Corrupting, and I am pursuing my PhD in Butt-groping. This is all about field research."
You roll your eyes at this, but you're still smiling. (Getting to you, aren't I?) "Well, I would say you were a pain in the rear end, but that would just give you another excuse to spank me, wouldn't it?" you challenge me.
"Well, now that you've suggested it..." I pull my hand back as if to deliver a spank, at which point you slip out of my grip and, laughing, retreat to the living room, turning to stick your tongue out at me as you go inside.
*******
"Take me someplace where we can cool off," you tell me, as we sit at the kitchen bar, eating a light lunch of sandwiches, grapes and, of course, cherries.
"I could stick you in the freezer," I taunt. "I don't know if even that would cool you off, you're so hot...," I pause just a couple of seconds "...for me, that is." Another eye roll, another tongue stuck out at me. You know, I really need to think about more discipline...
"Very funny. No, I want to get wet." You see me cock my eyebrow up, and before I can finish what's in my mouth, you clarify your comment. "As in getting in the water, you oaf! Is sex all you ever think about?"
I make a face as if I'm seriously thinking about my answer. "I'm sorry, could you repeat the question? I was imagining you naked."
Now I just get a look; a look that tells me I'm wading into dangerous ground.
"Okay, okay," I say, putting my hands up in surrender. Hmm, what would you do to me if I was your prisoner and- Gotta stop, John! "I know a good place, it's a nice spot in the river, you can wade out, the current isn't bad, water's clear...and it's not far, either. Shouldn't be crowded, I wouldn't think."
"Is it deep?" you ask, and I can hear a bit of concern in your voice. Then I remember you said you were not a great swimmer. Gotta remember that: Don't Dunk Your Date, John.
"No, it won't be bad. No drop off, so where it goes down a bit, which is on the other side, you'll be able to stop before you get uncomfortable. And besides," I say, putting my hands on your hips, and pulling you to me for a kiss. "You're with me, so absolutely nothing will happen to you."
Your arms come up, around my neck. "Well, as long as I have my very own lifeguard, I guess I'll be okay," you say, as you kiss me back. As you do that, I drop my hands down and squeeze your butt again.
Hey, so I like your butt!
*****
It only takes us 15 minutes to get there...after it takes you 45 to get ready. Hat? Check. Sunscreen? Check. Swimsuit? Oh, hell, yes, CHECK! I think when I see you emerge from the bathroom in it.
It's just past noon when we pull in. There are only three cars in the parking area, so I know we shouldn't have too much traffic. I don't expect to get TOO frisky here - we're only 50 yards from Highway 321 - but I do value a lack of crowding. As we work our way down to the river, I spot a couple of fly fishermen about 50 yards upstream. I know flyfishermen; they won't pay us any attention at all, and it looks like they are working their way upstream. That accounts for maybe two of the vehicles; no sign of the occupants of the third. Oh, well.
You hold tight to my hand as we walk into the river. There are a lot of little rocks in this section, which are actually easier to walk on than big, flat rocks. The big ones cover with a slimy algae/mud mixture which makes walking on them treacherous. Still, it takes a little getting accustomed to, so I make sure you feel secure. Reaching the area where the bottom is more sandy, you feel a bit more at ease; enough to let go of my hand in waist-deep water.
I drop down into the water, immersing myself for a moment. The water is always cold in this river; it is fed from streams which begin way up in the mountains. I don't let on that it's cold, though.
"Oh, much better!" I say as I emerge and wipe the water from my face. "Once you get down in there, it's much warmer."
"Really?" you say, a little doubtful. "Feels quite nippy on my legs."
"Yes, but once you're down in there, you'll feel the difference. You warm up almost immediately. But you need to drop down quick. It's called the Cooling Reduction Aquatic Process. You don't have to go under," I tell you, placating your unspoken concern. "Just all the way up to your neck. Gotta do it real fast."
