Living Our Fantasies

RIVER RATS...

Part 1 Intro, THE SWIMMIN HOLE

Part 2 UNDER THE BRIDGE

Part 3 Airplanes, motorcycles, and farm tractors?

RIVER RATS #1 THE SWIMMIN HOLE

Let's go back to Central Illinois, where I was born and raised. After I met Dollie and got my first car we were free. Free to roam beyond the small city where we lived. Even when still in High School, I loved hiking, swimming, and driving around in circles.

There were several old gravel pit lakes where we used to ride our bikes to swim in clear blue spring filled water. Rare for muddy Illinois lakes and streams. Two of these small lakes beyond town were developed into pay swimming beaches. Fun at times. But why pay to go to a crowded beach when nothing except chain link fences and KEEP OUT signs were in the way at several other lakes?

This story is about a small river that wandered through the County. We could get to it going East, South, or even West after going about ten miles South. The River wound from way north in another county, snaking it's way all through our county, ending at the larger Illinois river.

To the East was the other pay gravel pit beach close to the River with camping. I'd guess the river seeped underground and filled the gravel pit long ago, along with springs. We spent many weekends there and a few small access areas along the River below more old iron bridges.

South of town, or south then West, were the two popular swimming holes with fresh springs along the River banks. Each was easy to get to because of new vehicle bridges leaving nice graded sloping areas to walk down to the River. We could park beside the roadway near the newly graded approach sections. No Parking signs and ornery cops were unheard of.

River location number one was straight south of town. Besides the vehicle bridge for the two lane County road, there was a railroad bridge next to it, both crossing the River. This railroad bridge was an iron trestle type and there were RR switch yards not far in both directions. Short trains would be pulled either direction by a single engine and caboose many times an afternoon. Remember cabooses? Most times there were two engineers in the front engine and a few switchmen in the little red caboose.

This swimming hole was popular for young families on weekends because of the shallow flat beach area for kids to play under and to one side of the RR trestle. Upstream or down slightly there were sweeping "S" curves with cool springs. These areas were cut deeply on the opposite bank by the sometimes high water and swift current after rains. A fun place to dive and swim.

The River was about 100' wide in places and there were holes 25' to 30' deep in the tight bends. But there were also areas 25' to 30' wide with trees jutting out over the water. Many dead trees were always scattered along the banks. At times there might be places to walk across only knee deep. So only small Jon boats and similar fishing boats were all that were on the River. Rarely were hunters or fishermen in the areas we swam.

During the week in warm weather older teens and mostly young couples with cars would meet to party, cookout under the vehicle bridge, swim and sun themselves. Never seemed too crowded most times and we all got to know each other as friends. Even though the River was usually shallow near the RR bridge brave, or stupid, kids would jump and dive from the RR trestle.

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Okay now the scene is set.

Since we were mostly late teens thru maybe 30ish, we were brave beyond our wise-ness. You gotta remember, poor farmers and poor city-slickers didn't own swimsuits. Started out with the gals usually wearing T-shirts, no bra, and short shorts. Guys were wearing cut-off jeans or boxer shorts underwear. Didn't take long to find out swimming in those things wasn't practical. Besides if they didn't fall off, for the most part, the T-shirts were see-thru, or some other danged kid yanked the pants off!

Over time, it was known by many as the nude swimming hole. Soon, even newcomers went skinny dippin there. No one above could see because the RR bridge blocked the view from the vehicle bridge, unless swimmers wandered too far up or down stream. People drove too fast on the county road to see anything anyway.

As far as I recollect, the only hanky-panky goin on would be around the fire pits and in the River after dark. No one fooled with any gal he didn't bring. No one got mouthy or talked dirty. Amazing when you add beer, booze, and horny teenaged kids. But, again, life was different in the olden days!

When a train came either direction, the ground shook. From the south they blew their whistle for a small entrance road to a vacation cabin area. Those neekid people who were beyond the two bridges would jump into the river or run under one of the two bridges.

It worked great for a Summer or two. Then some gal either got brave or wasn't fast enough and got caught by the guys in the engine of the Choo Choo train. A new game was created! The engineer tooted the horn and the men waved. The switchmen in the caboose apparently were warned. They stood out on the back open area yelling and waving also.

Yep, new game! The girl or girls who got caught naked laughed and everyone teased them. After that, every time a train went over the trestle, the engineer slowed way down, or stopped briefly, and everyone on board waved and hollered until some gals flashed them!

This became a dare and double-dare ya thing for most of us on the riverbank. Us guys dared our ladies to get naked and stand on the river bank as the train crept across the trestle. It went on for as long as I can remember. Can't believe the cops never were called. But, again, things were different back then. No one was hurt and everybody got a thrill.

As for me and Dollie, I know exactly why we stopped going down there to that swimming hole as often. Mom's brother, my uncle, was a RR switchman! Nuff said? Don't think he actually saw us. But he mentioned to us what he did see a few times as he passed that trestle!

That's why we moved to the next swimming hole South-West on another County road. No train tracks there. But two small airports where new pilots practiced touch-n-go landings and old crop duster planes flew in and out. More teasin. But even those old bi-planes could only slow down for a quick peek!

Stay tuned for this swimming hole story another day. As Archie Bunker used to sing..."those were the good ole dayz."

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RIVER RATS Part 2

UNDER THE BRIDGE

Well here we are in Central Illinois, again headed for another swimming hole at THE RIVER. We passed this place many times before the new bridge was put in. We always went farther to Long Lake to swim, fish, even campout along the banks of this large long spring-fed lake. Didn't realize it then, it was formed out of wetlands and springs using low levees to create a duck hunting area. But this could be another story.

For many years, we never went to this wide, spring-feed spot with a wide sweeping bend, along the River. Dense trees and brush, no places to park, and it was difficult to get down to water. But now this swimming hole was even nicer than the other as far as family swimming.

On one side, there was a natural wide slopping beach. The far side had a steep bank and a farmer's field fenced from access from the County road. This twisty-turning River flowed wildly during Spring thaws and other times of heavy rains farther North. It created nice deep pockets in the curves... great for Catfishin and swimming.

The new modern bridge created slopping approaches for easy access to the nice natural beach below. Also it made a safe parking area for vehicles on the shoulders. Since young couples with kids, and Grannies alike, came here to cool off during Summer weekends, we wandered down to the River after school, then after work mostly midweek.

We were all grown up and mature by now. Everyone wore bathing suits here. I was finally wearing Speedos and soon little bikinis that my blushing bride and her girlfriends insisted I wore. You may think Pussy whipped or henpecked. I learned long before this that it paid to listen to women.

Since this was a low bridge, even with the road, and much of the nice beach area was south of the bridge, it was more open for being seen from the bridge and roadway. Farmers on tractors, in grain trucks, and people passing to go fishing in the lake beyond often stopped on the bridge to take a look at the river.

Just because we all wore bathing suits to the river didn't mean they always remained all the way on, or even on, at all times! After all, we often played games like keep away, tag, etc. in and out of the water which caused small swimsuits to slip.

But this is supposed to be about nudity and flashing. Occasionally when a local farmer on a tractor, grain hauler, or anyone traveling this County road regularly, passed or stopped briefly a breast or bare female butt might be exposed for a few moments.

This seemed to cause people to stop more often and look longer. Yelling nice comments and begging to show more seemed to bring out the breast... best in many of the gals. The bathing suits, over time, seemed to get skimpier, leaving more flesh bare and more accidental exposure. (?)

And again, the games began. I would get Dollie to loosen her bikini straps even more, letting her boobs flop out without much movement... by accident. Seems like the other gals were competing, which was fine with us young guys. While being asked to show more by passersby, these quick flashes seemed reasonably safe. No one ever complained and the rare times a County cop passed they never saw anything unusual.

One hot afternoon Dollie and I went to the river just to cool off alone. There was no one there except about 5 or 6 gals about our ages... mid-twenties. They seemed to be playing keep-away or just tossing a beach ball around. Boobies were bouncing freely and totally in the open. We'd paused briefly in the tall brush to watch them playing.

They must have not expected anyone there either, because they wore the tiniest bikinis possible. This was before us Mid-Westerners ever heard of thongs. Me being the only male, they seemed noticeably embarrassed at first, slipping pretty titties back into too-small cups the best they could.

Dollie's bikini was as tiny as theirs and my bikini was not covering much either. Both of us being dressed much like them, they were soon laughing and playing ball again, titties once more bouncing freely.

Although we'd never seen these gals before, we were soon welcomed and joined in the game of keep away. At first they did try to put their boobies back into their tiny tops. But running, jumping up and down in the river, and grabbing for the ball, made keeping boobs covered impossible. Besides Dollie's were out too.

Yes, I was trying to be careful... yea right! ...I seemed to be grabbing handsfull of bare boobies more often than the beach ball! One of the girls decided to get even. Next time I "accidentally" got a grip on her bare breast she pulled my bikini down to my knees.

A few gals got a peek before I could get my swimsuit back up. It happened to me again and again, all the while Dollie was laughing as much as those gals. Actually I believe it was Dollie who finally pulled my bikini down past my knees. I lost my balance and fell in the shallow water, my full erection sticking straight up.

Things got dizzy from there on. One of the girls was holding my bikini, then I was chasing her to get it. No longer was this a game of ball keep away... it became a game of my bikini keeping it away from me.

The more I ran and grabbed boobs, the more my cock bounced and got harder. Each time a vehicle approached from either direction, we knelt down in the shallow water in the river. Those wild crazy girls stayed in the knee deep water and up on the beach, forcing me to run wildly naked as a Jay bird in hot pursuit!

I suppose this game ended as we all got tired. I don't actually remember getting fondled by any of the girls. But I occasionally got grabbed and bumped during the recovery attempts. Finally my swimsuit was returned, we all had some laughs, and eventually we left.

I don't recall ever seeing those gals again. Tried to remember the car they were in but never saw it either. Dollie teased me many times and told our girlfriends about it. Yes, we sometimes took one of Dollie's horny friends to those swimming holes too. But they remained good girls for the most part, in public. That is except for Charlotte, a few times, at the big deep clear Long Lake. But that's nuther story!

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RIVER RATS Pt 3

Airplanes, Motorcycles, and Farm Tractors at The Swimmin Hole?

What a combination. Add these things to a day swimming at the River and some people may wonder if I have totally lost it. Why yes I have. But that was long before I wrote this.

Way back in River Rat #1 I mentioned airplanes. I told a little story about the RIVER in swimming hole number two. But saved this topic for another little story.

You may be asking yourself, "How can someone way up in an airplane see people in and near a river flashing?" Well ask no more. I did mention two very small private airports in the area. Pilots and their students practiced touch-n-go and short flights from both airports which just happened to be among the farm land surrounding THE RIVER. Also, crop dusting is still being done in these areas to fertilize and for debugging of crops. Never even considered what those yeller or white clouds of smoke were doing to our lungs. Most of us lived through it.

As you will remember from my other stories most of the gals, from late teens up to even 40's, weren't bashful about exposing their mammary glands back then while frolicking along the river bank. Apparently we grew up in the right place at the right time because It just seemed natural and normal. And naturally I normally enjoyed it!

Over time, at this new swimming hole next to the County road, the pilots flew lower to get a view of the river or something below. They often flew amazingly low and seemed to nearly stop overhead. Safe? I don't know. As far as we know, none crashed near there.

As with the train crews at the other river swimming hole, gals just seemed to be thrilled flashin and teasin the men in those small planes. Just guessing they were always men. This went on for many years. Yes, we did switch off between the RR trestle swimming hole and this one. Often during the same afternoon since they weren't far apart and gas was cheap.

Farm tractors often passed over the bridge, even when it wasn't planting or pickin times. Just their way of getting from farm to farm and to other fields. Also I believe because they sat higher for better viewing of the scenery below, they sometimes just took a little ride.

Few tractors had cabs, stereos, AC or that crap back in the 60's and 70's. For some reason, the gals got a kick out of showin their bare asses and boobs to the farmers. I guess because the farmers usually yelled nice things and seemed to enjoy the little peep shows. I cannot forget those young guys who usually drove the grain trucks, stopping on the bridge to honk and wave.

Yes, I'm saying gals showed off. But you can bet Dollie was often the cause of the others showin their goods too. The County road was long and straight with little traffic most of the time. So there were cars and pick-um-up trucks stopping for scenery checks also. That leaves only motorsickles. See, I'm doin good so far.

Over the years, I bought a bunch of small bikes, 100 CC, and finally a 150 Honda. The Honda barely carried the two of us around town and occasionally to the swimming holes. The 15 mile rides to Peoria and 50+ to Bloomington, Illinois was the last straw for Dollie. Especially when she had to get off and walk up a steep hill in Peoria.

Also something about slipping back onto the license plate didn't set well with her riding the little Honda anymore! It was fine for around town and takin us to the swimming holes on flat highway. It actually got up to the speed limit before we got to the river. May not have been safe or biker cool, but we often wore nothing except our bikini and tennis shoes.

Then in 1965, I bought a new Mustang Fastback and a 1950 Harley tank shifter, one of the last non-Police bikes with chrome shifter on the tank. I still think that it was cool, with leather bags and big blue tinted windshield. Both were high speed black!

Yea, we still often rode the Harley Panhead wearing nothing but a itty bitty bikini or short shorts. We weren't bikers, but we were tough! By some chance of luck, I never crashed while dressed like that!

What we really liked about the bikes was we could go to either swimming hole at the river and hide the bike in the weeds. Sometimes we also attracted other bikers to stop at the old swimming hole. Even then Dollie liked teasing bikers.

Seems as though with one of our cars, or street rods sittin along the road, someone else would show up to swim. When we hid the bike and stayed nearer the bridges, we often had either swimming hole all day to ourselves. Sure, we loved people back then, just like now. But we could do things in the river and under the bridges alone that we wouldn't do in a crowd.

That also changed after we got caught by a few others and learned how much fun kinky sex could be with an audience! Still, no dirty story this time. Just showing I could write about planes, trains, motorcycles, tractors, and other stuff.

Usually alone we both were naked, or Dollie at least topless. And the men in planes, trains, tractors, cars and trucks, even some others on motorcycles, took a peek.

Yes, we did get caught at the second swimming hole at the river once when we were all alone and Dollie was topless. A County cop stopped on the bridge and told us to either get under the bridge or get some clothes on! Yep, life really was different and more fun back then.

As time passed fences were put up so there were no places to park, signs were posted, and small trees planted, along with the natural underbrush. It's now all but impossible to even get to the river.

We even had smaller less used places along that river to camp, fish, and play in the water. Today everything is fenced and posted. We were lucky in so many ways, as we grew up and played.

Now all of the old swimmin holes are history.