"I don't know," she answered. "I'll know when I get there."
"That doesn't sound like a very good plan to me," I chided. But Christina ignored that comment and kept driving, her eyes intently on the road.
So, I decided to try another approach. "How was Dallas?"
"It was fine," she responded, again not really answering.
"Did you buy a lot of stuff?"
"Not really."
By this time, it was very clear that Christina was not ready to talk about Dallas. I, on the other hand, didn't want to talk about anything else. As a result, we sat there in silence, both of us looking straight ahead. When we whizzed past the Willow Springs Marina sign, it was clear that we were not going to Lake Thompson.
After nearly an hour of excruciating silence, I was beginning to get angry. "How dare she ignore me like this?" I thought to myself. "I'm not the one with something to hide from the weekend." That knot of jealousy in my gut had turned into a big fist.
I felt the car begin to slow and looked up to see a sign that said Lake Mason State Park.
"Let's see what's in here," Christina said, breaking the tense silence. She turned right into the park and drove along the narrow two lane road that seemed to be leading to some picnic and camping areas. After a mile or so, she turned left into one of the picnic areas, drove as far away from the road as she could get, parked the car and turned off the engine.
We parked near a sign that read, "Daytime Use Only." The area was totally deserted on this cool, cloudy weekday morning. Without a word, Christina leaned across the console and rested her head on my shoulder. I put my arm around her and leaned down to kiss her. But she turned her head just enough so I couldn't touch her lips, and my kiss ended up on her cheek instead. Obviously, she was not interested in getting amorous.
"I really did miss you," she whispered finally, looking up at me with her liquid blue eyes. She was still very quiet and nothing I said or did seemed to bring her any comfort. We held each other as best we could with the car's console in between us, then finally decided to get more comfortable in the back seat.
In back, Christina was restless, putting her head in my lap for a few minutes, then sitting up and leaning against me. Then, a moment later, she'd let out a heavy sigh and move to a new position. She clearly didn't know what to do with herself . . . or with me. Finally, we kissed a little, but before we could go much beyond that, she straightened up and said "Let's go for a walk," pointing over toward a little bridge that crossed a narrow section of the lake's back water.
Since it was a cool day and the wind was blowing pretty hard, I grabbed a blanket from the trunk of my car. It was a blanket Christina and I had used once before when we picnicked at Lake Thompson. I wrapped the light blue blanket around her shoulders and we walked across the road and out onto the bridge. In the distance, we could see where Lake Mason became wide and deep, the water a slate grey. The water immediately around the bridge, however, looked fairly shallow and was nearly covered by hundreds of floating water lilies. I couldn't help but imagine how beautiful they must look when they were all in bloom. Today, however, some were brown and lifeless, obviously dead and on their way toward decomposition, and the remainder were simply a dark green. There were no flowers in sight. As a matter of fact, there was little color at all . . . grey water, grey sky, grey mood.
Christina stopped in the middle of the short bridge and looked out into the water. I studied her face and noticed a smile begin to spread across her lips . . . a smile that I had come to love, especially when I had something to do with it causing it. This time, however, I wasn't sure where it came from. I had no idea what was going on inside that beautiful head.
Just then, Christina let out a little squeal and pressed herself against me. I followed the direction of her eyes and saw a small black snake coiled on top of some water plants near the far end of the bridge. After we both got over our surprise, we studied the snake for a bit, waiting for him to move. I'm sure he was studying us, too. After a few moments, Christina reached down and picked up a few acorns that had fallen onto the bridge from a nearby oak tree that overhung it, and tossed them at the snake. He quickly slithered off the plants and disappeared into the dark water, much to Christina's amusement. It was good to hear her laugh and I began to feel the tension easing just a little.
"Let's see where this trail goes," she said, starting toward the little path that meandered off to the left just on the other side of the bridge. We walked along slowly, Christina with the blanket pulled tight around her to ward off the cool breeze. Occasionally, I'd reach over and put my arm around her. Stopping several times along the way to search the water for any additional wildlife, we had walked about 200 yards from the bridge when we came to what looked from a distance like a wooden boat dock. When we got closer, however, we saw that it was a short boardwalk that allowed hikers to cross a particularly low, damp area. The boardwalk extended for twenty feet or so, taking a turn to the right before turning back into a dirt and gravel path.
The trail had followed the curved shore of the lake and by now we were out of sight of the picnic area. We could hear an occasional car speeding by on a nearby road, but the path and the boardwalk were not visible to anyone unless they happened to be walking along behind us. "Let's sit down for a minute," Christina said, as she carefully lowered herself onto a single step that had been built into the boardwalk. I sat down beside her and put my arm around her shoulder.
We sat there in silence for several minutes, both of us looking out at the water. Finally, Christina turned toward me, and I could tell she was ready to be kissed. And kiss her I did. Soft little pecks on her cheeks, little nibbles on her neck, and finally a long, deep kiss on her beautifully full lips. I loved kissing her, and from her reaction, she loved it, too, as her body relaxed more and more under my touch, her lips parted a little farther with each kiss, and finally, our tongues caressed as I put both arms around her and pulled her body tight to mine. I savored the feeling of her breasts against my chest.
Our kisses became more and more passionate, and I slipped my hand beneath the blanket to caress her breast, lightly at first, then a firmer massage. When I touched her there, she let out a little sigh, her warm breath drifting into my mouth. I touched her under the blanket as we kissed . . . her breasts, her stomach, her arms. Then my hand drifted lower and began to move upward along the inside of her thighs, until I was able to lightly caress her mound through her jeans. She gave a little gasp as I traced my hand along her slit through the fabric.
"Mmmmmmm," she moaned, as I continued massaging and caressing her, and I could feel a little dampness beginning to soak through the material. Finally, she reached down and began to rub her hand along the length of my cock, which had grown considerably by this time.
We sat there on the step, kissing, caressing, the only sounds the lapping of the water against the shore and the little moans and whimpers of pleasure that were escaping both of us by now. Finally, Christina broke our kiss and said breathlessly, "I want you to fuck me."
"You mean here?" I responded in surprise. Having sex out in the open in a semi-public place was something I hadn't tried before, and I wasn't sure I wanted to try it then, either.
"Right here, right now," she panted emphatically, while at the same time standing up so she could remove her jeans. I looked up and watched as she slid her jeans and panties down in one quick motion, and in no time she was naked from the waist down. I gazed for a moment at her beautifully bare mound, which was just about at eye level. Tentatively, I reached up and ran my hand over her smooth mound and caressed her belly and thighs as she stood there with her eyes closed.
"Well, don't just sit there," she whispered, her voice hoarse with arousal. "I told you I want to be fucked." So I stood up quickly, spread the blanket out to cover the weathered wood of the boardwalk, and began to undo my belt.
"God, you are so slow," Christina said in exasperation, as she reached over, unfastened my waistband and pulled my zipper down. I looked around again apprehensively one more time and seeing nothing, let my jeans drop down around my ankles. My boxer briefs quickly joined them. I was unable to remove them completely because I still had my shoes on, but I decided that was probably a good idea in case we heard someone coming.
I sat down on the step and leaned back, and Christina put one leg on either side of me and sat down on my belly. She leaned down and kissed me deeply, urgently and began to grind against me. I could feel the dampness of her nectar on my belly, and before long she moved down a little and slid her pussy up and down along the length of my cock.
"God, isn't this amazing?" she panted as her movements became faster, more urgent. I don't know whether it was the cold, the apprehension of being discovered, or what. But though I was incredibly excited and aroused, I was not yet hard enough to slip easily inside her, as we both very much wanted by this time. So, Christina slid down my body and took my cock between those beautiful lips and began to lick and suck . . . hungrily, urgently, deliciously. I slowly began to harden as she touched me as only she could . . . one moment taking me fully inside her mouth and burying her face in my pubic hair, then slowly raising her head and licking along the length of me.
