Summer Sneaing

I have wandered far from the campsite, loud with men reliving their youth with one-up stories and their bored wives shooing children. I have neither one-up stories nor children and seek peace and quiet. After an hour or more of walking the creekside I come to a calm pool created by rocks and a fresh beaver dam. The aspen trees along the bank show the signs of the beaver teeth that felled their grove fellows, the sharp scent of the bark reminds me of my childhood, Summer trips to the mountaintop to gather wood for the next Winter, cookouts with my parents and siblings, the deep sky of stars in the night. The pond is new and the bottom is covered in rounded stones, the dam has not had time to form silt beneath the water. In the clear water I can see tiny schools of minnows and the shadow of the rainbow trout that live there. Camping in a tent for three days has made me cranky and miss my shower back home. The campsite is on private land, I haven't seen another human for hours since I sat down on the grass of the creekbank.

The water is cold when I dip my bare toes freed of the confines of socks and sneakers. I am up to midthigh in the cool water, and think, 'why the hell not?' I step back out on the bank, shuck my cutoffs and tee-shirt, and jump back in the cold water. The shock of full body exposure to glacial fed water takes my breath away. I let out a yell and then laugh out loud at the joy of the feeling of the water on my sun warmed skin. My body acclimates to the frigid water as the midday sun warms me and lulls me as I float on my back in the sun and water. I wonder how many stories of near hypothermia I would have to listen to if I were to relate this adventure back at the camp. My forty-three year old fiance and his cohorts often look on me as a young and tenderfooted greenhorn, much to my disgruntlement. I am the one who grew up in the country and mountains, but to hear them tell it, camping was invented by city-slickers like them. Hummf. But I really should be out of the cold water by now, and scrubbing the camp dust from my hair only takes a moment more. When I raise my head from the water, I see a vague human form standing over the pile of my clothes on the bank. Oh Shit. The water in my eyes makes it hard to really see who is there, but hopefully they aren't standing close enough to see too much.

"Hey, did you know that sunlight refracted in water can cause a really bad sunburn?" a voice says on the bank.

"I am not burned, but I might be blushing." I reply. "Be a gentleman and throw me my shirt."

A shirt lands in my hands, I cover my face to wipe the rest of the water from my eyes and then hold it in front of me. But it doesn't smell quite right. It smells of warm cotton and clean sweat and man. Mine should smell of campfire, pinesap and spilled ketchup, a gift from one of the children running through camp. I look up and see a bear. Without my glasses the figure before me is very large, fuzzy and getting closer.

"Bruce! You could have said you were going to be around, I would have dressed for the occasion."

You wrap your arms around me and hug me to you. You are warm and the strength of your chest against my breasts tingles deep inside of me. I wrap my arms around your neck and you lean your head down to kiss me. Your tongue is warm, exploring my mouth, tracing my gumline and the edge of my teeth, then teasing the soft skin inside my lower lip, claiming my mouth and stamping me with your imprint.

"You might catch cold out here Maggie, I had better warm you up."

"I wasn't in the water that long."

"I know, I heard you. I was down the way fishing when I heard a cry and thought it was a damsel in distress, but when I got here it was a Water Sprite in her element. Now that I have caught her, I get a wish."

"I think you have your faery stories mixed up, sonny."

"Can I make a wish anyway?"

"Maybe."

You lead me up the bank and on to dry grass and use your shirt to dry me, rubbing my tummy, my legs, down to my feet and then my back and finally my hair. You have arranged our discarded clothing over the grass and hang the shirt on a bush to dry. We lay on the shirt and shorts and sweaters and look up at the clouds floating in the blue sea of sky.

"I wish to hear that little cry again, that surprised yelp and happy laughter after it, only I want you to make that sound for me, not the cold creek water."

"Right out here with god and everyone watching?"

"Nobody here but us bears, darlin'"

"I sure hope the hell you're right."

I roll off my back and onto my side to face you, and you meet there. I put my hand on your chest and feel your heart beating, the tempo quickens under my fingertips. My hand moves lower and you roll to your back again as I explore the line of fur running from your navel southward. I lean in to taste your skin, it is clean and musky like the shirt, I inhale you into me. I am on my knees now, both hands running through the hair that covers you in a golden light. You remind me of the prince in that faery story, the one who is a bear because of an evil curse from a troll. The bear was taken in by a pair of sisters who loved him and petted him and if he had any brain he never found a way to lift the curse. I lick your nipple, tease it and wet it and breathe on it to see your reaction, then lightly run my nails around it while I suck on the other one. You groan, arch your back and try to buck me into a better position.

I am having none of that yet. I continue to taste your warm skin, moving my mouth lower, flicking my tongue at your navel, testing my teeth lightly on your thigh, then moving upwards again. I don't stop where you expected, I straddle you again and kiss your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose and then your lips. You open your mouth under mine, demand with your tongue that I kiss you deeper, your hands on my breasts and back and between my thighs, finding me wet and getting ready for you. I break the kiss and back away again to kneel between your knees. I am not the only one ready. Your cock is at attention, and the tip is wet, seeping and sweet. I wrap my lips around the head of your cock and swirl my tongue in a circle around it, sucking and licking and letting my teeth lightly graze your flesh as my nails tickle the inside of your thighs. A little at a time I take more of you into my mouth, my hands cradle you and squeeze you as I suck more of you into my mouth, until I have swallowed all of you, sucking and stroking you, tasting the warmth of your juices flow across my tongue, pumping in my hands and lips.

When you have caught your breath, you lean over me and say 'I haven't heard that sound yet.'

"Oops." I smile, a cat with whole lot of cream. "I never talk with my mouth full."

You move over me, your hands in my hair and then on my shoulders, my breasts and tummy, my thighs and the back of my knees, parting them, running your fingers up the soft skin there, teasing me back. One hand folds my knee up and the other strokes the hair at the parting of my legs, still wet from the creek water, but wetter now from the sounds of your pleasure and the anticipation of your touch. Your fingers stroke me, lightly parting my labia, stroking close to my clit, just enough to arouse and tease and taunt. Then your fingers slip inside me, stroking deeply, one, two, three fingers deep inside, your thumb on my clit and pressing lightly, in rhythm with the thrust of your fingers inside me, finding the soft and sensitive spot where nerves come together and spark a chain reaction making my hips buck and my back arch and even more moisture courses over your fingers.

You follow your fingers with your mouth, sucking my clit while you still stroke inside me with your hand, cupping me inside and out, drinking in this water sprite you have caught in the woods. I cry out with the sensations you cause in my nerve endings, my voice going into a higher register as the climax builds and the pressure in my body flows toward your fingers and tongue and the delicious release I feel climaxing inside me. Every muscle in my body tenses one more time and relaxes into the peak of climax you bring me. You kiss your way upwards, I guide your face to mine and kiss you, sucking your tongue into my mouth to mingle the taste of you on my tongue with the taste of me on yours. I can feel you hard against me again, what a surprising bonus! I open my thighs for you and you find your way to me without error. You lie there, inside me, throbbing and feeling the echo of it in my own body. Slowly we start to move together, no hurry now, just the lazy swaying of one body into another, like the tree limbs above us. Dancing in the mountain breeze, you and the Water Sprite you caught skinny dipping.