Mellissa was a free spirit. You could tell that just by looking at her. She had this energy about her. She was going to play by her own rules, come what may. And she almost never wore a bra, despite those big boobs of hers.
It made me nervous, but also excited, to go away for a weekend camping, just the two of us. I wasn't quite prepared, though, for how far that free spirit would take her, take us.
We reached the lake at about three o'clock on the Saturday. It had been a long hard trek through the close forest. My clothes were soaking in sweat and the water looked so inviting, cool and fresh and sparkling in the summer sunshine.
I was congratulating myself on remembering to bring my swimming costume, a fairly modest one piece, and started to look for somewhere to change.
Mellissa, though, just tossed her pack to one side and, striding towards the clear, lambent waters, peeled her sweaty tee shirt off her body. Obviously, she wasn't wearing a bra.
Did she know I wanted her? That I spent my nights dreaming about her?
Probably not I guessed, but I didn't know if she'd have cared if she did.
She was standing closer to the water to me, so I could only see her back. I was longing to get a proper look at her but even from behind, she was completely ravishing.
Her long, slightly wavy blonde hair streamed down her bare back almost to the hem of the tiny, little khaki shorts she was wearing. I'd already been surreptitiously, or I hoped surreptitiously, checking out her long, gazelle like legs as we walked, as they tapered into her thick walking boots.
She tipped her head back and spread her arms out wide, as if trying to embrace the scenery.
Then she half turned to look at me over her shoulder. I could see the curve of one full breast as she twisted her body.
"Don't you love the feeling of the sun on your tits, Jane?"
I didn't know what to say. I didn't say anything.
Mellissa turned back to face the lake.
"I'm going for a swim," she said and tottered down to the waters edge.
I'd been dimly aware of Melissa ever since Fresher's Week, almost three years ago. Dancing in a tiny skirt in the Union bar, surrounded by a circle of drooling boys.
She was one of those superstars, you just couldn't help noticing her around. She was just so gorgeous and such a force of nature. Utterly unselfconscious.
And of course, those big tits and no bra made sure the boys all knew who she was. They talked about her all the time, in that crude, entitled way boys that age have. She frequently topped any most fuckable list I had the misfortune to overhear them put together.
They said she was easy as well, but I never actually heard anything concrete. I think it was just the lack of bras and their own overactive imaginations. It was true though that she was always with some boy or other, maybe a few boys.
It was only at the start of this semester, in the second half of our final year, that I actually spoke to her.
She was in my class. I don't remember her being in any of my other classes but it's a big department I guess.
It was a small group session, only six of us and the professor, and she was half an hour late. She tried to sidle in unobserved but that's hard to pull off in such a small class.
The professor tried to be stern with her but couldn't quite bring himself to. Those boobs again I guess.
The only free chair was next to me. I was surprised in our next session both that she turned up early and that she chose to sit next to me anyway, even though there was plenty of choice.
So that's how I got to know Melissa Carter. Those session were intense. I'd found University pretty underwhelming so far, intellectually, but in those sessions the professor really put us through our paces.
Melissa, it turned out, was really smart. Like really, really smart. It was prejudiced of me but I'd always assumed she must be an airhead. Hot girls with big boobs AND big brains just seemed like a category error. My mistake.
Not that her thinking was conventional. She was a bit of a hippy. A bit of a believer in the mystical oneness of things. But when you believe that because you've read Plotinus in the original, you get a break. At least from me.
That's when the trouble started.
And by the trouble, I mean the wanting.
I was newly single after a bad breakup. I was the sort of girl who was pretty much always in a relationship.
I'd been with Stevie off and on for most of school and then steady in Sixth Form, only finally calling it a day over the Christmas holiday after the first term at Uni.
Then, there was Richard, who was so understanding about Stevie, until we finally broke up in a petting zoo in Salzburg interrailing in the summer after our second year.
And then there Debra. Debra was where things got interesting. And messy.
She was at least six years older than me. A postgrad. Funny. Bitchy. No fucks, but not like Melissa. In your face. I liked her but she kind of scared me.
And she seduced me. Or at least that's what I told myself.
It only lasted a few weeks. A few glorious, miserable, wonderful, confusing weeks. And when it was over I was left trying to make sense of it all.
I didn't love her. I was sure of that. And I had loved both Richard and Stevie. In my own way. But how did she make me feel things that they never had?
The answer was obvious, but not one I was quite ready to face.
Not long after it ended with Debra, I went out and let some sleazeball from one of the sports clubs pick me up. Big, meaty, knuckle headed kind of guy.
I'd never had a one night stand before. I don't think I'll have another.
I simply couldn't get wet for him. At all. In the end I had to go down on him more or less just to get him to leave, hating myself as I did so.
That's when Melissa entered my life.
That's when the dreams started. Melissa. Her eyes, her hair, her smile, her smooth creamy shoulders, her carefree laugh.
And other things as well. I can't pretend I didn't dream about other things as well. I'd wake up soaking wet from another fevered dream of lips and breasts and touching, and have to touch myself to get any sleep.
All those sweet things, Debra had shown to me, I longed to share with Melissa.
Mellissa always sat next to me in our sessions. Sometimes, the whole group would go to the pub afterwards and Mellissa would sit next to me then too.
We got on, we laughed. I think she liked me. But it never went further. She was always off with some boy or boys soon after. It all seemed hopeless.
Which was why this weekend was such a godsend. I'd talked about how I liked camping and hiking in the pub one time. Melissa showed an unexpected interest. Again, I don't know why I was surprised, she defied expectation in lots of ways.
And when I told her about this place, this secret lake up in the hills, she got really excited.
It was in a private estate, up in North Yorkshire, so it would be trespassing really, but it was miles from the house and it was pretty much abandoned anyway. No one around at all.
Then she'd begged me to take her.
And how could I possibly refuse?
At first, I'd thought it was just talk. Some romantic dream but she kept on at it. We were busy with our final year at uni though, revision and parties and goodbyes and plans for the future.
So, it wasn't until after our finals, that we finally packed our bags and got an early train from Manchester Piccadilly early one glorious July morning.
This might be the last time I ever saw Melissa. But at least we'd have this time. Part of me told myself not to waste it but, in all honesty, what was I actually going to do.
Not in my wildest dreams, had I thought I'd actually get to see her naked. Well, in my dreams she's pretty much always naked, but I never thought they could ever come true.
But here she was, stripping off in front of me, even if it wasn't for my benefit at all.
She stood by the edge of the water, in just her shorts and walking boots, looking out over the calm, level blue waters.
When the sun shines and the mercury is up, England can be as beautiful as anywhere in the world. Those days don't come too often though but that just makes them more magical when they do.
