This is a relatively tame, risqué story involving unexpected nudity. If you are looking for stories that involve sex, infidelity or swinging, this is not for you. It is more suitable for couples to enjoy together.
I appreciate any feedback you give to help me to improve my storytelling. Hope you enjoy this and my other stories.
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After working six days a week for the past year Tara was looking forward to finally have some vacation time. I felt she would be better able to relax and unwind if we got out of town, leaving our day-to-day chores and reminders behind us. While wracking my brain to find an appropriate location and activities, I remembered that on our vacation almost a year ago we had met and made a unique friendship with a young Navy Seal named Chase at a resort hotel we visited in Lake Tahoe, California. On the final day of our vacation, Chase gifted us with a Letter of Authorization to visit his family property in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, a short drive from Lake Tahoe, near the very small, mountain town of Kit Carson.
Chase had described the property as a small valley of about 2,450 acres with a fair-sized lake named Silver Lake. The lake even had a small island that his great-great grandfather's children had named Treasure Island. He mentioned that the homestead was approximately 4 miles from the nearest road along a winding dirt road and absolutely invisible behind old-growth pines and birch.
I called Chase at the number he had penned on the back of the Letter to ask if the offer was still open. "Absolutely... anytime", he said. He informed me that the old homestead was still in shambles and quite unlivable but there was an open area by the cabin with a fire pit and available firewood that is great for a campsite. He didn't even ask when we wanted to use it. He just said that when we decided on the dates to call Mr. Bowles, a tenant at the base of the property, to arrange for him to unlock the gate.
We have not camped for years so when I discussed the vacation plan with Tara she loved the idea of enjoying and communing with nature once again. We decided that we would leave early the day after her vacation started and would spend several days hiking, camping and swimming. I was in charge of checking our camping gear to make sure it was in proper working order and gathering the necessary food and supplies.
Besides enjoying a little fishing, camping, hiking and exploring I thought the trip would provide an opportunity to enjoy some private, less inhibited activities. I couldn't help but remember that when we had last spoken with Chase he stated that, if we wished, we could skinny-dip in the lake and surrounding streams in absolute privacy. He explained that the rocky hills surrounding the valley were steep and loose so climbing them is very dangerous. This served as a natural barrier against unwanted trespassers. The neighbors, actually tenants, at the head of the valley, guarded their private and secluded enclave, and Chase's family property, vigorously.
I have always fantasized about going skinny-dipping with my beautiful wife. Unfortunately, she is quite modest and has prudish views of this sort of activity. Believing this to be a unique and probably ONLY opportunity to fulfill this fantasy, I concocted a devious plan to ensure that I would get her to swim naked, even without her agreement!
One day, while Tara was at work, I took her one-piece swimsuit, and, turning it inside-out, I brushed all of the seams with dimethyl terephthalate, also known as citranic acid gel. I had discovered its unique properties on the internet and it suited my plans perfectly.
Once dry, Citranic acid, in a gel form, is inert. When it comes into contact with water it activates and begins to dissolve synthetic fabrics within about 10 - 15 minutes and will not harm human skin. I gave a good coating to the crotch, side and shoulder straps.
Regrettably, reality does not always match our fantasies and plans have a tendency to turn out very different from what I originally had in mind!
After a long, 7 hour drive, we finally managed to locate the homestead cabin. We immediately began unloading and setting up the campsite. With that completed, we began cooking some small steaks and baked potatoes for supper before it began to get dark.
As dusk began to fall, headlights appeared, coming up the dirt road. We thought it might be Mr. Bowles checking to see if we had gotten settled in OK. We watched as a Range Rover, towing a jet ski, pulled in next to our campsite. A man about mid-fifties got out and introduced himself to us as Finn Morgan, a friend of Chase's.
Just by coincidence, Chase had offered him the use of the property the same time we were there. Since our invitation was open, we did not advise Chase concerning the dates we were going to camp out so there was no way he could have known that we would both be there at the same time. Just poor luck!
Finn offered to camp on the other side of the cabin to give us some semblance of privacy. With the sun gone down, Finn would have to set up camp in the dark.
Finn's arrival meant the end to my nefarious plans, through no fault of his own. To be neighborly, we offered to throw another steak and potato on the fire for him. Finn was set up quickly and, bringing a bottle of Patron Tequila to share, we ate our dinner and shared drinks and personal histories.
Finn related that he had formerly been Chase's Commanding Officer and that they had still remained friends after his retirement. He shared that a Navy career, especially one as dangerous as the Navy SEALs, (Sea, Air, Land), was not conducive to a long marriage. Finn had retired in a belated attempt to save his failing marriage but they divorced anyway. Due to his dangerous career choice, they had both agreed that it was best that they not have children. In most ways, Chase became like a son to him.
Even though he had become an officer and was no longer a SEAL, he maintained the workout discipline and kept his body strong and fit. "Hard to command the necessary respect of a team of SEALs if you have a paunch and can't keep up with them." Finn was a little shorter than me but had a more powerful build. Even I had to admit, he was an attractive man. Once while Finn left to answer the call of nature, Tara whispered to me that he reminded her of an older Mitch Rapp, a Special Ops character in a series of novels written by one of her favorite authors, Vince Flynn.
As the evening progressed and the tequila flowed, Finn directed his conversation more to Tara and appeared to subtly flirt with her. Tara would laugh and look a little embarrassed but with a little encouragement from the effects of the tequila he kept plying her with, she began to enjoy the attention and even flirt back a little.
