I felt the cool thud as the ball of mud splattered between my shoulder blades. I slowly turned around, attempting to keep a fake look of outrage on my face. Erin was only three yards away from me and was trying not to giggle as she smiled mischievously.
She was rocking side to side with her elbows tucked against her in a defensive manner. Her tank top clung to her athletic body in the humid heat and her denim shorts accentuated the curves of her hips. A wisp of her sandy blonde hair slipped across her forehead, briefly covering one of her piercing green eyes. Her hair was just past her shoulders and framed her almond face. Her upturned eyes and pouty plump lips always made it look like she was teasing you, and made it impossible to be upset with her... which meant the fake outrage on my face soon turned to an uncontrollable smile.
"You're in trouble now," I said. She giggled and bit her lip, but stood her ground. Stooping down I grabbed two fistfuls of the dark clay on the riverbank and raised them, ready to throw. The first one flew over her head, but that was just a decoy. The second one hit her square in the chest and slid down her tank top. She gasped and we shared looks of surprise - mine was tinged with unabashed joy while hers was pure shock.
"Gaaa!" she shrieked. "It's seeping into my bra!"
"What color is your bra?" I asked, suddenly concerned. "The mud will stain anything that's white."
"Great! Turn around," she demanded. "This is one of my favorite bras."
I obediently turned my back to her and took account of the situation while she presumably stripped her undergarment off. Erin and I had always been friends but never romantically involved. It seemed like there was always a boyfriend or girlfriend that prevented us from hooking up. That didn't stop the teasing and flirting though. She was definitely wilder than I. Ever since I'd met her she found my composed polite mannerisms to be her favorite thing to ruffle, with seductive looks and veiled double entendres. After a year or two I became more used to it, and never grew sick of it. I found I could dish back just as much innuendo and teasing suggestions in my own mild way - often surprising her. And she seemed to enjoy it as much as I did.
For the first time both of us were single and not away for school or work. We'd run into each other and found we had a lot of catching up to do. During the conversation we remembered that we used to come down to the river to swim when we were younger. The stifling hot and humid day made the river sound like the perfect sentimental way to cool down.
My thoughts were interrupted as I felt her arms wrap around me. With two handfuls of mud she had silently crept up on me after shedding her bra and was now smearing mud on my chest and stomach as my arms were pinned at my sides. Of course, the real reason my arms were locked at my side was because I could feel her frame pressed up against my bare back while her hands caressed my torso. I spun around. The wet clay slid her arms around my body, and suddenly we were face to face. I brought my arms up on to her shoulders, creating some space between us. Our arms locked and suddenly we were both pushing and pulling, trying to get the other one off balance. Erin slipped and went down, but caught herself with her arm. I paused, which gave her time to jump back up, but with another fistful of mud. She flung it up towards me, spattering my neck and half of my face. We both paused then she burst out laughing. In one big step I wrapped my arms around her waist and lifted her from the ground.
A primal feeling in me loved crushing her soft body to my hard muscled torso. She pushed her hands against my shoulders to try to wiggle away, but my arms were locked tight. Her squirming struggle just hitched her tank top further up her stomach. With a twist I lowered my shoulder and dropped her into the muck. She landed on all fours, facedown, her tank top barely scraping the mud. She started to get up when I sat down on the middle of her back. "Yeehaw" I yelled and gave her wet-jean-clad butt a playful slap. She started to laugh, but had to grit her teeth to keep from collapsing in the mud. My added weight changed her situation though, as her arms and hands began to sink deeper and deeper into the dark brown clay. Her legs held our combined weight better, so her sinking arms made her head the greatest risk to slide into the mire.
"You're too fat!" she exclaimed in a last ditch effort to get me to climb off her. "Fat" had never been used to describe my lean frame, which had become more muscled as the effects of manual labor took their toll.
Her arms had sunk to her shoulders, and I had to tuck my knees in to keep from holding my own weight. Her chest was clearly resting on the mud but Erin had managed to keep her chin and neck craned back far enough to avoid a mud facial. I started to laugh as she futilely struggled with her arms, pushing them deeper into the mud. With a gasp of exertion she splayed her legs out behind her, completely laying in the mud, yet somehow keeping her face clean.