Shaking my head, I did as she requested, but made sure I opened all the windows in the cabin. The only water in the cabin was from a hand operated faucet with a long lever handle you had to push up and down to operate. Luckily I was familiar with those, and before long the fire was burning hotly and the water was starting to simmer. Lucky for me there was a nice cool breeze blowing through the windows so it was actually quite comfortable inside, even with the fire going in the stove.
About 20 minutes later, Susan came walking in with the picnic basket. Her face was red as a beet, her shirt was wet with perspiration, and she was sweating like a . . . well I've always heard it is impolite to say a woman is sweating, so let just say she had water pouring off her face.
"What the hell did they pack in this thing," she asked, "it must wear 30 pounds."
I thought she must be exaggerating . . . at least until I hobbled over and picked it up.
"More like 40 pounds," I said, then insisted she sit down to rest and cool off before going back for the drinks.
But I wouldn't be me if I didn't take the opportunity to tease her a little.
"You know, it's a darn shame you have to get out there and work that hard, sweating and everything, while I'm staying inside enjoying this nice cool breeze."
If looks could kill, I would have been dead meat!
"One more word, Jackass, and they will be operating on the other leg as well," she threatened.
I decided it was probably safest -- for my personal safety -- not to test her on that point, so I simply found a small hand-towel in a cupboard and walked over and starting waving it up and down trying to direct more of the breeze over Susan.
After 10 or 15 minutes of my waving the towel over Susan, acting as her personal fan, she finally stood up and said she was going to go get the rest of the supplies.
"Wait," I requested as I walked up to her.
"I'm sorry if I offended you with what I said about your having to work while I am staying cool. You really don't know how bad I feel about not being able to help you. Sometimes I let my weird sense of humor get the best of me."
She reached up and put her fingers against my lips.
"Dennis, you didn't offend me -- not at all. I am already getting used to you, and was just trying to respond the same way," she said. "I like your weird sense of humor. It's a little like mine."
I kissed her, and she kissed me.
"You don't know how glad I am to hear that," I said, "Now, do you think you can go a little faster getting the drinks back? I'm getting thirsty."
Then I smacked her -- very, very lightly -- on the butt.
"You JACKASS!" she exclaimed laughing, then started trying to tickle me.
We were both laughing, and finally I had to beg her to stop tickling me.
We kissed again, then she left to get the drinks . . . still laughing.
Susan was back much quicker this time, since the basket wasn't nearly as heavy.
Opening it, there were two six-packs of beer, a six-pack of 7-Up, a six-pack of Cokes and a six-pack of Arizona Tea. After a three-hour drive across the ranch, with the sun beating down, none were even remotely cool.
We debated the relative merits of which might taste best hot, or to be more accurate, which might taste the least bad while hot, before opting for a beer each. Susan took all the rest out to the creek and dropped them in, hoping the water would cool them off some.
Hot beer, on a hot day, is actually not quite as bad as it sounds. Especially if you are sharing it with the runner-up to the Miss Texas Beauty Pageant!
After we finished our beers, Susan said she wanted to clear herself up some. She found two large bowls in a cupboard, and put them on the table, and poured hot water in each, then began adding cold water to get it to the right temperature. She also found a couple of washcloths, and some soap.
Next she stripped naked, as unselfconsciously as I have ever seen anyone. She wasn't trying to tease me, didn't try to prolong it, just very matter-of-factly took all her clothes off, standing beside the kitchen table, and then proceeded to wash herself completely.
She washed her face and arms, then started on her shoulders and then dropped to her breasts. As the cool breeze blew across her breasts, her nipples began getting hard. Believe me, that wasn't the only thing getting hard in the room.
The entire time she was washing herself she never looked at me.
Once she was finished, the dumped the water in the sink, then wiped off the table.
"Let's see what food we have," she said, as she walked over to the kitchen counter top, still as naked as the day she was born.
She began opening different packages.
"Look, Dennis, we have ham, and this must be a dozen fried pork-chops. Are you getting hungry, Dennis?"
By now, I am standing up and have got most of my clothes off.
"Yea, I'm starving," I answer, "but not for food."
Susan finally glances over, and can't hide the smile covering her face.
She turns back around and continued opening packages.
"And here we have six or eight big steaks. You know I can warm all these up on the stove in just a few minutes. What would you like to eat, Dennis?"
By now I am down to my boxers, so I answer: "In just a few minutes I am going to have you spread-eagled, flat on your back on the kitchen table and I am going to be eating you!"
She again glances over at me with the biggest smile you can imagine. Susan doesn't say anything, but her face has flushed bright red, and I can't help but notice the flush continues all the way down to her breasts.
Susan turns back around and continues going through the food basket, pretending she doesn't hear me hobbling up behind her.
"Oh, look! We have potatoes in this container, and green beans in this one, and hard-boiled eggs in this one . . . OH!"
That final "OH!" was because I was now behind her and had reached around with both hands and cupped her breasts and immediately started flicking her nipples with my thumbs.
Susan pressed her perfect little butt back against me, and gasped again as she felt my erection slip between her legs.
I continued to gently squeeze her breasts and flick her nipples, and now I stuck out my tongue and reamed out an ear.
"Oh God Dennis. You know . . . you know when you are doing that . . . that I can't concentrate . . . can't concentrate . . . concentrate on f-f-f- . . . food."
I didn't say anything, just released one breast and moved my hand down across her stomach and abdomen until I reached her glorious pussy and slipped one finger inside her. I couldn't believe how wet she already was.
As she felt my finger entered her, Susan cried out, then spun around and threw her arms around me and was kissing me more passionately than I have ever been kissed before. Her lips and tongue were like things possessed!
After trying to suck my tongue down her throat, Susan finally stopped and gasped out: "Please, oh GOD please, make love to me Dennis. Make love to me again!"
I held her tightly against me, then said, "I would carry you over to the kitchen table, but I can't for two reasons."
Susan leaned back as her eyes narrowed and said, "If you say one word comparing my weight to Debra's, then I am going to take my horses, and my Daddy's four-wheeler and leave you here! Of course you won't care because you will already be DEAD and BURIED!"