Daughter gets poison ivy. Dad treats the spots she can't.
All Characters are over eighteen. I had a bad case of poison ivy this summer. It was no fun. I wondered, "What if a person had it in areas they couldn't reach? What if the only person who could stop the itching was a family member of the opposite sex?" I think it might be like this.
^^^
"Eighty-six bottles of beer on the wall, eighty-six bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around, eighty-five bottles of beer on the wall."
The blond, braless mother-daughter duo sang with gusto as the car they were in sped down the highway. The mom wore a royal blue halter top that matched her deep blue eyes. The daughter had on a plunging pink halter top. Her cleavage couldn't rival her bigger boobed mother, but she proudly displayed a lot of her firm, twenty-year-old tits.
"You guys are killing me," Bart said. "Not only have you picked the most annoying traveling song to sing, but it appears that you are placing a premium on volume while neglecting pitch and tone."
His forty-two-year-old wife, Julie, said, "It's your fault. We're bored."
Amy, his daughter, said, "This cabin you're taking us to is so far off the grid that we can't get any decent music on the radio."
"That's the point," Bart quipped. "We're getting away from cell phones, television, and computers. For two weeks we'll be somewhere no one can reach us. This cabin is a bucolic place where we can commune with nature. We can hike mountain trails. We can fish and swim in a crystal clear lake."
He gave them a quick look and added, "This was my grandparents' cabin. I used to come up here every summer when I was a kid. It's great. You'll see."
His daughter said, "I hope it lives up to the hype. I'll have no way to connect with my friends."
Her dad responded. "The forest, the hills, the mountains, and the lake will inspire you. It's peaceful and quiet. No one around for miles. You'll have your choice of many wonderful landscapes to paint."
"I hope so. I need some excellent sketches and paintings to include in my portfolio when I apply to the Gifted Spirits Art School."
Julie's cell phone rang. She put it to her ear and said, "Hello." Her demeanor changed and she shrieked, "What?" She went from being a loving wife and caring mother on a much-needed family vacation to a seriously pissed off corporate lawyer.
She shouted into her phone, "How did the deal get fucked up?"
She listened. "A huh. A huh." She listened more and said, "Yes. I know how important this deal is."
She disconnected and said, "Sorry, guys. I have to go back and straighten something out. We're forty-five minutes from the cabin. I'll drop you off, deal with this matter, and join you as soon as I can. It might take a few days."
Her husband and daughter nodded. When you're a partner in a big, prestigious law firm, business demands interfere with family time. They'd all learned that lesson the hard way.
Bart pulled up to the rustic log cabin. The family stepped out of the car, stretched, and felt a wave of warm air wash over them. It was a sunny, summer afternoon. Eighty-two degrees. They were surrounded by lush greenery, towering trees, and rolling hills that led to tall mountains. The cabin before them wasn't large or fancy. It was sturdy, functional, and secluded.
They unloaded the car and, after kissing everyone, Julie said, "I'll be back as soon as I can." She got into the car and drove away.
Bart and Amy settled in. Each had their own bedroom.
When his daughter entered the main room of the cabin, Bart said, "Let me show you around."
"Great."
They went out on the back porch. The view was majestic. There was a large lake and behind it hills rising to mountains. Much of the land was forested with large trees. The sky was blue with hardly a cloud in sight.
"Wow!" Amy said.
"Yes. Breathtaking isn't it?" Bart said and he put his arm around his daughter's shoulders. They stared at the awesome scenery and drank it in.
Near the house, off the path that led to the lake, was a small shack. Amy saw it and said, "That eyesore spoils the view. Why hasn't someone knock down that sad shed?"
"That, darling, is an important structure. That is the privy. A two holer."
"What? Oh, no. I'm not going to the bathroom in that thing."
"Suit yourself. If you don't like the outhouse, we have fifty acres of land and forest that you can use as your personal latrine." Bart laughed and then said, "Why don't you explore. I'm going to split some firewood. We'll need a fire to stay warm at night. In June, it's 80-85 degrees during the day and 55-60 degrees at night. A roaring fire will make the cabin cozy and toasty after the sun goes down."
"All right, Paul Bunyan. Go chop some wood. I'm going on a walk."
"Enjoy yourself. Dinner in two hours."
Bart went inside, grabbed an ax, and went to the wood pile. He split logs. Amy went down the steps off the back porch. She followed the path to the large body of water. She walked along the edge of the lake and enjoyed the serenity and the beautiful scenery. The only sounds she heard were birds chirping and the water lapping against the shore.
"Wow," she said, speaking to herself. "What a beautiful day. What a beautiful place. It's good to stretch my legs after that long drive and good to get out of the city."
She stopped, took a deep breath, and drew in the fresh, humid air.
"I've got to pee and I'm not going to any stinky, old outhouse," she said. She left the path and climbed up the hill to a secluded spot among the trees. She looked about to confirm that she was alone and undid her shorts. She pulled her jean shorts and underwear down to her knees, squatted, and peed.
"Ahh," she sighed. She peed long and hard. As she held her position and drip-dried, she heard a rustling noise. Something disturbed the dried leaves on the ground. She looked toward the sound and saw a small animal, a porcupine, come round a tree.
"Aaahh!" she screamed.
The creature paid no mind to her shriek. It continued to waddle toward her.
Amy leaped up and tried to run away forgetting that her clothes were around her knees. That caused her to trip. She fell, ass over teakettle, and rolled through the underbrush. She righted herself and slid down the hill on her butt.
"Fuck!" she cursed as she came to a stop with her bare ass sitting on the dirt path. She stood, quickly pulled up her shorts and underwear, and ran. When she felt she was a safe distance away, she stopped running. Her knee hurt. She looked down and saw blood.
"Oww! I've scraped my knee. I better get back." She ran her fingers through her shoulder-length hair to remove twigs and leaves and followed the path back to the cabin.
Her father was sitting on the back porch drinking a beer. He saw her and said, "It looks like you had a tumble. Are you okay?"
"Yes. I could use one of those." She pointed to his beer.
"You're not twenty-one."
She made a face and said, "I'm close. Two months."
He said, "Okay, but don't tell your mother."
She joined him on the deck and sat in a chair. Her father stood and said, "You're bleeding. I'll get the first aid kit."
He returned a few minutes later. He handed her a beer. She drank deeply. He washed and tended to her wound. "What happened?" he asked.
Her face turned red and she said, "It's embarrassing. I was going to the bathroom in the woods and I was startled by a porcupine. I fell and scraped my knee."
He applied ointment and a Band-Aid. He said, "They are small critters, but not to be underestimated. Those quills can do damage."
"I guess I'm lucky I only got a skinned knee out of the encounter."
They sat on the porch, drank, talked, and enjoyed the view. Later, Bart cooked dinner on the grill. They had a quiet evening playing board games by candlelight in front of a roaring fire. After a thrilling game of 'Sorry', Amy sketched the fire and the stone fireplace.
She said, "I love the flickering flames and the colors."
"Yes. Very pretty."
^^^day 2^^^
The next morning, Bart was up early. He cooked bacon and pancakes on the wood stove. Coffee too.
"Wow! Breakfast smells great," Amy said as she stepped out of her bedroom. She had on her standard sleeping gear: panties that exposed half of her ass and a soft cotton tee shirt that molded itself around her bouncing, braless boobs. Bart looked at her and turned his head away. He said in his head, "Don't stare at her jiggling breasts, you bastard. Or her hard nips that are putting twin dents in her top. The last thing you want is to have your cock swell and put a bulge in your pajamas."
Amy sat at the table. Dad brought her coffee and a plate of food.
"Mmmm. You're the man, Dad."
Bart fixed himself a big plate. They ate. He said, "Honey, how long were you out in the sun? Your arms and legs are red."
She looked at her arm and scratched the red patch. She said, "I was only out for an hour or so and most of the time I was under a canopy of trees."
They finished breakfast. Amy cleared the table and carried the dishes to the sink. Bart's eyes automatically looked at her tight butt, the way a squirrel's movement would attract the attention of a good hunting dog. He noted her narrow waist, slim hips, and shapely bottom. It reminded him of her mother twenty years ago.
She put the dishes on the counter and reached back and scratched her thigh. She had red bumps there too. They were just like the ones on her arms only more numerous.
