Some of the more reasoned comments on this story convinced me that including any reference threatening a child was a mistake. I apologize to all of you whose sensibilities were offended. I have amended the story, removing any threats to a child.
*
It was a beautiful, early June day. Nick Thomas stood at the top of the hill, looking down over his property. It had taken him five years, a court battle and some lobbying in the State legislature to get it, but it was now his—640 acres of land nobody in their right mind would want. It was primarily scrub woods, which sheltered a couple of small herds of deer; a 100 acres of sloping flat land which was the only arable land on the hill; a dried up swamp area; and a couple of large ponds.
Along side the larger of the ponds, he had cleared some of the woods and built himself a small, single story house. It was nestled back in the woods, and overlooked the pond, and the valley beyond. The pond was fed by a stream from the artesian well which bubbled up not far from where he stood. The stream continued on, out the other side of the pond, down the hill to join a river which divided the small city on the floor of the valley.
Before he had acquired the property, it had been public land, and the pond had been a popular picnic and make out spot for the teenagers and young adults in the town. Cutting off access to the pond had not made him popular with young folks, but the adults had taken the news with a combined sigh of relief and regret.
There were two roads which offered access to his property. The main one, off the two-lane, he had been able to gate with a remotely controlled electric lock. You called him from the gatehouse, identified yourself and your business, and, if Nick wanted to see you, the gate opened. One branch of that road now led directly to his garage.
The other road, off a little traveled, one lane, macadam-topped back road, was more problematic. Initially, he had put up a single, wooden gate with a no trespassing sign. Some teenagers, out partying, had tried to drive through it, and nearly totaled their car. It had been replaced with a gate made of two-inch steel pipe, and a sign warning trespassers of bodily harm.
A few hundred yards further up the road, a similar gate was installed, with a stronger warning. A bunch of graduating seniors bent on skinny-dipping convinced him that wasn't enough. He put up a third, stronger gate with the warning:
Passing through this gate without the written permission of the owner of the enclosed property signifies, certifies and attests to your agreement to have sexual congress with said owner, in any manner or style of his choosing.
He had also placed a quarter page ad in the local paper, displaying an easily readable photograph of the warning. An article run alongside of the ad quoted a local judge as saying the warning was legal and binding, advising the community that unless they were willing to have sex with Nick Thomas, stay off his property, unless invited.
As he gazed out over the valley, he heard a sound he didn't like. Someone was coming up the back road. The only place it went was to the large pond. "Shit!" he said out loud. He gathered up his lunch makings and shotgun and set out at an easy lope, hoping to get to the car before it got to the pond. A recently exposed root with an affinity for toes, however, spoiled that plan.
While there had been no physical damage caused by his fall, it had added to Nick's already bad mood. By the time he got to the pond, the inhabitants of the car had already begun their
picnic
.
Harry and Rusty Quinn had been high school sweethearts. With each other, and with others, both had been frequent visitors to the Pond before they had moved away after graduating from high school six and seven years ago. They had not been around to see and hear about the problems concerned with the privatization of the state land.
Harry's firm had offered him the opportunity to open and manage a mid-line department store in the valley, giving them a reason to return to their roots. The couple had spent most of the last week moving into their new home and had decided to take some time for rest and recreation.
Recalling the good times they had had together at the pond, they decided on a picnic and swim. Knowing they could get closer that way, they decided to take the back road to the pond .
Harry laughed when he saw the 'No Trespassing' warnings about dire physical harm, making light of Rusty's concerns when he told her of them. He thought the warning on the final gate hilarious and was laughing when he got back in the car after Rusty drove through.
"Harry, are you sure this is okay? Even though it's a school day, I remember it was always crowded during the summer."
"Rusty, come on! He's threatening rape; there's no way he could get away with that. It's just some blowhard. The pond is public land after all."
"But..."
"Just relax and enjoy yourself. If there's no one around..." he said, reaching over and sliding his hand between her thighs. "Remember how great that time was when we were up here alone?"
Rusty felt herself dampen and begin to open as the memory flashed back. "And maybe some skinny-dipping afterward," he suggested. She honored him with a sultry smile and reached over to slide her hands up and down the front of his pants.
"Grrrnnnhhh," he growled. "Careful or we won't even get to the pond." She laughed, delighted that after three years of marriage, it was still almost like their honeymoon.
From the final gate, due to the nature of the road, it took nearly fifteen minutes to get to the end of the road, at the pond. Road was a generous term. It was little more than a vehicle worn path once you were past the first gate, and lack of use the past couple of years had let grass and weeds grow up and disguise it. "Finally!" huffed Harry when they got to the end.
"Just grab the blanket," said Rusty, her voice husky with desire. "Leave the cooler for now." Harry recognized the voice and grinned, grabbing the blanket. Rusty was quickly out of the car and following him.
Harry had the blanket spread in a flash. He dropped to the blanket on his knees to straighten out the end where a breeze had ruffled it. When he turned around, Rusty was topless and removing her shorts.
"Oh, babe! What ya got on your mind?"
"It's not my fuckin' mind you should be worried about, buster. Get your clothes off. My pussy is so friggin hot that blanket's gonna catch on fire."
Harry laughed and grabbed her, pulling her down in his embrace and rolling over so she was mostly under him. His mouth found her nipple and began to suck and nibble on it, eliciting groans of need from the twenty- three year old. Her hands were busy at his elastic waist band, pulling it down over his hips and burgeoning hard on.
Within minutes after arriving, the attractive young couple was naked, in the classic 69 position, driving their passion to greater heights.
