Helena Ch 10 Tubing

Author's note: This is #9 in the Helena series; written originally for my friend and muse here on Lit for the last few years, and my inspiration for this and other tales. I hope you enjoy it as much as she and I have in the creation of this story. No actual sex in this one, but some teasing.

You drained me pretty dry in that shower, and then you wouldn't let me return the gift, just smiling and telling me you'd let me catch up later. I think you thought I was going to collapse in the shower by the time you were done with me, and you probably weren't far from the truth. I can't remember the last time I felt like that. Okay, well, yes I can, it was probably just last night, but it seems like every time with you is better than the last, so...

So instead of tying your wrists and ankles to the bedposts and devouring you, I reluctantly agree to get dressed. At least you let me dry you off, a treat in itself. I got to get a little taste of those dark cherries before you slipped away to go put on clothes. (Boo, clothes!) At least at my bidding you put on a bathing suit before you donned a t-shirt and shorts. You ask where we're going, but I won't tell you. All you know is that we're going to do something "very American" today.

Our one shopping stop doesn't yield much of a hint for you. A bottle of sunscreen, a hat and water shoes for you. I don't know if you've ever seen water shoes before; rubber soles, the body of the shoe is mesh, and a bit of elastic holds them in place. You walk in the water in them, and water can drain out easily, while the soles give you a grip on rocks while protecting your feet. And a mesh bag, plus a few bottles of water. Then we're off: Next stop, River Rage Tubing!

Once you're there, the days activities are pretty evident: A tall square rope structure holds dozens of oversized, electric lime green tubes. There are single tubes and double tubes, where two people ride together. Guess which kind WE will be using! :)

We get there and sign in, and grab our double tube. While we wait for the converted school bus to pull up to take us upriver, I make sure you are fully, completely safe from sunburn by rubbing lotions at every exposed square inch of skin. "Hey, I'm just being protective!" I respond when you respond to my hand slipping inside your bathing suit top by cocking your eyebrows up and putting your hands on your hips. Hey, a man can only resist so much temptation, and you, baby, are ALL temptation!

Soon, the bus pulls in and stops, and the employees begin to load up, putting our tube on the top. We take seats at the back of the bus (hey, that's where you can have the most fun!). We have to wait a little bit for the bus to fill up with more people, time I try to spend "making out," but you have questions.

"So, we ride in the tubes, or on the tubes?"

"Is it safe?"

"Are there rapids?"

"John, get your hand out of my shorts!"

"How long do we float?"

"Is it safe?"

"Is it cold?"

"Stop touching me like...oh, you need to stop doing that to my ear...please?"

"How far up do we go?"

I just smile, not answering most of your questions, except to say that it is MOSTLY safe, and that the only waterfall we go over is ONLY about a 5-meter drop, and that MOST people survive...most of the time...

The bus finally fires up, and once it is moving, it is just about impossible to hear anything. We don't have to go far; just a couple of miles up into the National Park. There, as the employees unload the tubes, we gather ours and make our way down to the river.

I hold the tube and try to help you achieve the "fall of faith" into it, at which you squeal as you find your sexy little derriere is now trapped in the COLD water. I just chuckle, then turn the tube/raft and gently, gracefully lowering myself into it. (Yeah...graceful...a graceful bear...yeah, that's it...) A gentle nudge off of the shallows, and we're now adrift on the Little River.

The first few minutes are about getting comfortable, and getting used to - in a sense - a bit of helplessness. I mean, your arms can reach the water and paddle, but it's kind of like being a turtle on its back. Once I show you how easy it is to get up and out of the tube if you want to, or turn over and lay across it on your front, you settle in a bit.

The beauty of tubing is that you are NOT going anywhere in a hurry, unless the river pushes you, and even then, short of a storm upstream (it's a clear day), you cruise along slower than the fish beneath you. This gives you time to take in the sights as you drift...and to talk...and to just listen.

We've talked online for so long, but there are so many questions we both have. What was your childhood like? What did you want to be when you grew up? Memories about parents, family, funny stories, favorite pets...now we have all the time in the world to really get to know each other. I'm as curious about growing up in England as you are about the U.S., and we laugh at some of the differences.

I reposition us so we are head beside head, which has the surprise (okay, not much of a surprise; you already know how I am!) benefit of giving me the chance to just turn and kiss you, albeit our faces are upside down to each other.

Even upside down, you're my favorite person to kiss. Ever.

There ARE a few "rapids," although the farthest drop is about 6 inches, not 4 meters. On your back, though, it's a little unsettling, as you're at the mercy of the river. Being the gentleman I am, I see the rapids coming up, and I...don't say anything to you. I just take your hands in mine.

"OOHHHH! What-?" you holler as we cascade down the entire half of a foot of drop, splashing. I can't resist laughing.

"You! You knew that was coming, didn't you? And you didn't say a word!" You scold me, but let's be honest, when you're smiling and laughing at me, well, it's just not that effective. Of course, I have to reply.

"Knew what was coming? Oh, THAT? Well, I MAY have seen it coming, but I knew you were tough, and brave, and..."

"Uh huh. Yes, right, that's it. Sweeten me up, will you?" you say, as if I were trying to gloss over my deception.

"Oh, I love that accent! Have I mentioned that I love that accent? I do, you know. It's so beautiful, just like you, my dear..."

You pause, just looking at me.

"Okay, you get a pass. But you BETTER let me know next time."

"Yes, mum," I say, trying to produce a bit of an English accent, but probably failing most miserably. As I also fail in trying to contain my smile.

We drift on a bit, at times talking, at times just taking in the sights. I point out turtles on a tree trunk sticking out into the water, lined up as if they're ready to file in. A blue-green dragonfly lands on my arm, and we both just watch quietly as it...does whatever it is dragonflies do. Not sure if he's trying to eat me, take samples, or just take a breather. You, of course, upstage me when not one but three beautiful little butterflies land on your hat, which you've taken off and hold in your hands as we pass through a stretch where shade trees span the river.

It's about a 2-hour float from launch back to the place where we get out. We can go several times, but first we stop for some lunch at their little outdoor snack place. Typical American fare: Hot dogs, hamburgers and french fries. We take a breather, then opt for individual tubes for the second float.

We spend most of this drift with our lower bodies hanging down into the water, legs wrapped each other. I laugh when you squeal the first few times fish brush against you. I think - just for an amusing moment - about telling you about the "cold-water piranhas" native to this river, but I DO fear the wrath such a lie might stir up. I bet you're cute when you're angry, but you're GORGEOUS when you're smiling, so I choose the safe route.

Mostly, I just spend the time looking at you. Your purple curls, damp, your green eyes, smiling. How on earth does a beast warrant the attention of such a Beauty?

Oh, how I wish for a place I could just pull us off to the side, onto a soft, grassy area, and return the attention you gave me in the shower! To suckle on those nipples, hardened by the cold mountain waters. To feel your groan as the heat of my mouth pushes away the cold. To lick a trail, from drop to drop down your abdomen, connecting dots until my tongue delves into your folds, slipping gently, slowly, up and down, softly biting tose soft petals open, seeking your sweet nectar.

But somehow, I don't think that family of four that is drifting along about 10 meters behind us would appreciate it if we got amorous in front of their little boy and little girl. Although I did see the father checking out your ass before we got on the bus.

Sorry, buddy, she's MY foreign exchange lover! Mom saw you looking, too, and judging from the look on her face, well, the river won't be the only thing running cold today! LOL

So for now, we float...my hunger for you growing, maintaining an appearance of propriety. Until...

No. You didn't just... But then your foot slides up again, slipping across my crotch, straight up to slide the groove between your big toe and your next toe right along my cock. I look at you, and you're just looking off to the side, as if absolutely nothing was going one. Only the faintest hint of a smile is visible, and I realize that you're looking off to the side because you know you can't keep a straight face if you look at me as you do it.

"This water must really be cold, huh?" you tease, as the water has made my fellow a little...shy.

No...you didn't just...you did. You little tease... He may have been cold, but he's not dead, and quickly he responds to your attention. It doesn't take long before he's beginning to make his appearance known, and my shorts are beginning to reflect my arousal.

And then I recognize JUST how diabolical you are.

Because while you've been distracting me with your efforts, we've now drifted to within about 20 yards of the place where we have to exit the river. You drop through your tube, giving me a quick grope with your hand, before you surface and swim to the place where we climb out, pulling your tube with you. You climb the little ladder, making sure to put a little swing in your hips as you go. Just behind us, the family of four make their way past me towards the steps. I have to hold on to a rock, not willing to get out just yet and expose MY preDICKament to them. You turn and look at me, and ask sweetly, "Love, aren't you getting out here?" with an innocent smile on your face.

"I'll be there shortly, sweetheart," I say, gritting my teeth and biting back the sarcasm I SO want to respond with.

"Okay, well, I'm going to go on up. Don't be long; I wouldn't want your muscles to get stiff in that cold water." And with that, you turn and climb the steps, still wagging your butt a bit, giving Mr. Dad an eyeful. The kids are both of course oblivious, but your antics are earning another scowl from Mrs. Mom.

Something tells me Mom scowls a LOT. Mainly at Dad.

Not that her butt doesn't look good going up those steps, too, but...in comparison to and right after yours...well, Dad and I would both give you higher marks.

At the top of the steps, at ground level, you turn and smile at me and give me a wave. I can tell you're having to try SO hard not to laugh as you turn and disappear with your tube. After a few minutes of doing some mental ballistics calculations and considering the weighty matters of life (WHY do some people insist upon putting the toilet paper on the roller with the paper feeding from the bottom, when it is CLEARLY ordained that it should come from the TOP??), I am able to get my issue to subside. All alone, I climb the first ladder, then the second, pulling my tube up with me.

You are SO going to get it when I get you home!