Our Summer at the LakebySandraMustard©
[This story is an entry into the "Summer Lovin' Contest." Please rate this story at the end of the last page. Comments on the reading page are welcome but cannot contain email addresses or URLs. I will respond to feedback sent from my submissions page if you provide your email address by being logged in or within the feedback text.
My story depicts my true experiences during the beginning of a loving relationship that continues today. I was young, barely of legal age, but not experienced. To emphasize what is explained in the story, the events take place after my eighteenth birthday and my boyfriend was about to turn twenty-one. The character backgrounds for the years before the story setting avoid any mention of sexual activity. There is no intercourse in this story, just the foreshadowing of erotic pleasures that I would experience in the following years. A note here to dispel confusion later in the story: Woody is the nickname of my boyfriend, but Jack is his Christian name used in dialogue when speaking with his family.
I always acknowledge proofreading help provided by volunteer editors who work without compensation. Improving the grammar and mechanics of this story was the effort of PrincessLeigha.
©Sandra Mustard 2013]
I met my boyfriend, Woody, before I started high school. He was less than three years older but had already graduated. He was so smart, so good looking, and wonderful in every way. How could I not fall for him? With feelings for him that made me helpless in his arms, he could have taken advantage of me right away. Yet he was a hero, too. He said he loved me and to prove it, he promised to keep me pure until I graduated - and he did just that.
Mature beyond his teenage years, he kept us away from the dangers of youthful passion. His resolve persevered against my vocal desires until I began to appreciate the honor with which he treated me. I didn't worry that he lacked desire or ability; quite the opposite was true. From what he did do and after very candid discussions, I knew he would be any woman's dream lover. I was content to wait as long as he thought was right; he was the master of our destiny.
While I attended high school and he studied at Devry, we didn't go steady, as it was part of his mature plan for us. Rather than keep me locked away, he wanted me to grow up with normal social experiences and learn what other guys were like. I spent the better part of two years dating any boy who asked me out. The trouble was, they were boys, hopelessly immature compared to Woody. My junior year, I went to Homecoming with a senior. He became a close companion, and the only one I dated during the whole year besides Woody. We got drunk at a party just before his graduation and he became too aggressive. I wanted no experiencing with others after that.
Woody dated others too. While attending Devry and working nights, he managed to meet only one girl. After receiving his Associates degree, he worked a job in Chicago. Riding the train everyday offered a vast pool of single girls, but soon, he too rued the idea of dating others just to date. He sidestepped one last landmine when a beautiful girl was the aggressor and she tried to rape him on their second date. So noble was he that he had to stop her quite roughly to save his virginity; a gift he'd rather give to me. From then on, he wanted to see only me.
After three years with Woody going into the summer of '69, we were old enough to enjoy any behavior. I had turned eighteen in June and Woody would turn twenty-one early in the fall. We could (and did) begin to explore our passions further but it was still his goal to wait another year for me to graduate before we consummated our relationship.
* * * * *
Woody's family loved to vacation at small lakes within a couple hours' drive of their home. Since discovering Paw Paw Lake in southwestern Michigan about ten years earlier, it became their regular destination. They would rent a cottage for a week or two, often joined by relatives or friends of Woody's married, older brother Eric. Eric had a boat they used for water skiing, an activity enjoyed by everyone except their parents.
Woody was unable to vacation with his family the two summers he attended Devry. Having now worked at Kodak for nearly a year, he took a week's paid vacation and was eager to join them that August. He also expressed a wish to have me join them. The prospect of a summertime vacation with the Sherdaks sounded fabulous! My family never took recreational vacations because we didn't have the money for them. Instead, we traveled to visit Momma's family in Indianapolis for a long weekend or to Pop's family in Tennessee for a week.
My excitement about vacationing with Woody fell to pieces because my part time job at a convenience store needed me to work my regular schedule. I was so disheartened that I told Woody I wanted to quit just so I could go. He would not allow such a thing; it wasn't how mature and responsible people acted. I spent a week in a moody funk; I even thought about how to get myself fired, but I knew I couldn't disappoint Woody with childish behavior. Then, as it happened so often in my life, destiny shined favorably on me. While at work on the Friday before Woody was to leave the next morning, my boss pulled me aside. He said he understood how important it was to me to get the time off, so he had worked out some schedule changes with other workers. I didn't have to work Thursday through Sunday of the following week. It wasn't a whole week but a four-day weekend would be long enough to satisfy me.
I called Woody that night to give him the news. Even though it required him to make an extra trip home and back to the lake, he was willing to do anything to include me. After we worked out the travel details, we talked for two hours about vacations he remembered over the years since his childhood. To me, they sounded like trips to Disneyland. Almost as an afterthought, I told my parents of our plans. They had no misgivings about me staying with his family when they learned that my presence would not create added expense.
Like waiting for Christmas morning, the next few days crawled by until Woody returned Wednesday night. He stopped by to visit me at work to remind me of what things I should bring. I did not mention that I had packed and repacked my suitcase three times over the last several days. I was more than ready and the morning couldn't arrive soon enough to appease me.
* * * * *
The roughly hundred-mile trip took a little over two hours. Long discussions about what he had been doing and what he had planned for us filled the journey. I was excited because he promised to teach me how to water ski and I was going to see him slalom on one ski. Woody had a big surprise for me but waited until we stopped at a traffic light to tell me so he could watch my reaction. We would be sleeping in the same bed.
I could see his grinning face nodding at me but knew he was dead serious. A dozen thoughts raced through my mind so fast, I couldn't vocalize any of them. A car horn behind us interrupted our silent staring when the light changed. The details became apparent as the sandy dunes of Michigan rolled by.
The cottage his family rented had three bedrooms; his parents slept in one while Eric and his wife Carol slept in another. The third bedroom had one small single bed that his younger brother Jerome was using while Woody had been sleeping on the pullout sofa bed in the central room. I was to join him there for the next three nights. He had been able to convince his parents that with the sofa bed in the pathway between all the rooms, someone easily seeing or hearing us would prevent any hanky-panky. In addition, he gave his word that we would behave which carried a lot of weight with his parents. Woody made me understand the importance of keeping his word. Whatever the conditions, I could think of little else but that I would have a chance to sleep with Woody.
After exiting the section of interstate we had been on, we followed a two-lane highway through a small town. Beyond the business district, the road turned and cut through scattered houses and summer cottages. Through gaps among the structures and trees, Woody pointed out the views of blue water. He turned off the road and parked next to a wooden cottage set on stone pylons.
Woody grabbed my bag from the trunk before we walked through a squeaky screen door to stand in the central room, furnished to the left for dinning and to the right as a sitting room. Opposite the front door was the entry to a short hallway, with the bathroom between bedrooms at each end. The kitchen was to the far left; Eric and Carol's bedroom and a sunroom were to the far right. Against the wall, right next to the hallway entrance and just a few feet from his parents' bedroom door, was the sofa bed. Indeed, it was in a doorless room in the middle of everything.
The cottage was empty. At ten in the morning, everyone was already at the beach about one hundred yards back down the road. Woody dropped my bag on the sofa and told me to put on my swimsuit. He grabbed his off a hanger in the bathroom and returned to the central room to change in front of me. By this time, we were comfortable about our bodies and had already seen each other naked.
Changing rapidly, Woody seemed to be paying no attention to me, so I decided to forego using the bathroom and started to undress. The open space of the room with a wall of windows and screen door made me feel like we were strippers on stage. I took a quick glance at my cohort when he stepped out of his underwear; he looked partially excited and it caused my sex to tingle. Woody was sitting down already dressed and putting on his gym shoes by the time I peeled my panties down and stepped out of them. Straightening up, I saw him motionless, his head turned and eyes focused on my pussy two feet from his face. A wave of excitement washed through me.
Rather than hide from his sudden attention, I turned to face him fully and slowly pulled off my top and removed my bra. The air on my nipples caused the red nubs to stretch out. He briefly looked up at my breasts then returned his stare to my sex. His look of lust was titillating and I felt myself getting wet. Taking a step toward him, his nose poked into my pubic hair and I could feel his breath panting on my pussy.
I was getting unbearably excited; my heart began to pound in my chest and my breath rasped from my open mouth. When he reached out to slide a finger across my clit, my legs gave out and I collapsed onto his lap. Strong arms pulled me close; firm hands explored my bare skin in all the places I loved his touch; his hungry lips covered my mouth and his tongue sought out its dance partner. Desire filled my consciousness and put the passage of time on hold. With his tongue twiddling in my mouth and his finger fiddling in my vagina, waves of passion grew unceasingly until a violent orgasm rocked me thoroughly.
I had serious doubts that we would be able to keep Woody's word. After all, we hadn't been there a full five minutes and we had already done the hanky; the panky was bound to happen too. Our interlude had nothing to do with the sleeping arrangements. However, it did demonstrate how quickly our passion could boil over.
Woody released his naked plaything so I could finish changing. I rose slowly on rubbery legs to put on my bathing suit, a new bright-red two-piece I bought just days earlier. Woody had a new bathing suit, too. He had chosen yellow this time, but it was just as tight and just as erection revealing as his previous white one; one I had observed when he wore it at a pool party. I nodded at his sideways love-log and asked, "Are you gonna walk around like that?"
"It depends ... if I see any more naked women or not," was his judgment.
I considered it a chicken-or-egg debate. Would I get naked again if I saw his aroused cock? I wondered how I would manage to keep my hands off him, and then thought about his sleeping habits. "What are you gonna wear in bed?" The pajama pants I had brought were safely modest and ideal for the arrangements.
"I've been wearing gym shorts but you know I'd rather sleep naked."
"Woody! You can't do that!" I protested.
"Well, I go to sleep wearing them but they've been known to slip off in the middle of the night," he warned. Was he serious or joking? Either way, I was getting aroused again. Would I be able to honor his word with his cock so close at hand? I thought of lying next to him in the dark, my pajama-pants pushed below my knees, his finger probing me, my hand curled around his wood. Three nights of temptation... Would I get any sleep? Would I be his lover, finally?
We gathered up our towels and beach gear and walked out. Strolling along the gravel and sand of the roadside, each with an arm around the other's waist, a long exciting summer weekend at the lake stretched before us. We turned down a paved driveway next to a large restaurant/bar with jukebox music floating out its windows. The driveway sloped down to a launch ramp between several docks on the left and a sandy beach on the right. A dozen or so kids and adults frolicked in the water and half again as many people sunned themselves on blankets in the sand.
At first, I didn't recognize the two women we approached from behind. I hadn't seen Carol since Easter; she had dyed her hair and was now seven months pregnant. Carol was talking to her mother-in-law and when she turned her head, she saw us and said something. Woody's mom turned just as we came up to them.
"Hi, Sandy," they said in unison.
"Hi Carol. Hi Mom," I said as I hugged his mother, not realizing how I had addressed her. If she or Woody noticed, they did not react.
Carol, of course, was not going to let it slide. "Mom, huh? Did you guys get married on the way here?"
Quick-witted Woody quipped, "Damn, the cat's out of the bag."
Gullible to the nth degree, his mother cried, "You did?" She looked hurt, not because she didn't want me for a daughter-in-law, but because it would have meant she missed the joyous ceremony.
"Y'all stop teasin' her," I admonished them and hugged her again. "I love you like a mom. I feel too formal calling you Mrs. Sherdak and too young to call you Arlene."
"Call me Mom all you want, honey. I like it."
Carol and Mom were the only ones on the beach. 'Dad', Eric, and Jerome were out water skiing. Mom didn't like riding in the boat except for slow cruises; Carol was restricted from the potentially bouncy ski runs because of her condition. They were to tell me later she could slalom ski but nothing fancy.
Paw Paw Lake is dragon-shaped and only 1½ miles across at its widest. From where we were on the western shore, we could see most of the lake, so Woody spotted Eric's boat and pointed them out to me. Towing a skier, it was crossing right to left far off shore and soon made a wide turn to come by close to the beach.
Eric skied outside the boat wake and let go of the towrope to coast in among the docks while the boat made a quick turnaround. Dad was driving the wooden boat, powered by an outboard motor, while Jerome pulled in the towrope. Eric saw us and called out, "Hi, Sandy. Are you ready to learn to water ski?"
I was so excited that I practically giggled my answer. "I guess I'm ready."
Woody recommended that Jerome ski next since he skied on two skis as I would. It would make it easier to explain things while I watched Jerome. With us there, Dad no longer needed to drive so he climbed out. I climbed in and observed as Woody and Eric readied the boat. Soon, we were idling out to stretch out the towrope.
Jerome's head and ski tips were all that were visible when his hand gave a little wave. "Hit it," Woody said and Eric pushed the throttle forward. The bow rose high and slowly dropped down as we reached planing speed. Jerome rose out of a splash of water in a slight crouch and we pulled him out to open water. Woody described his brother's skiing mechanics and the art of standing on planks of wood sliding across the water. Jerome skied outside the boat wake from one side to the other as we looped around part of the lake. Suddenly, Jerome hit a big wave and fell. "He's down," Woody yelled so Eric throttled back and turned around. Idling in a half-circle around Jerome, Eric asked what happened.
"I figured I needed to show Sandy that falling is no big deal," he cracked. Then he added, "Unless the water rips your suit off ... have you seen it? Ah-ha! Made you look, Sandy."
Well, I stood up to help look for his suit, not to peek at him without one, but I didn't mind being the brunt of his little joke. The half-circle route brought the rope back to Jerome and soon he was skiing again. After finishing a loop around the western end of the lake, he skied into shore.
For my turn, Jerome stayed in the water to help adjust the ski boots and the flotation belt and to give me reminders. In the starting position, I signaled 'ready' but my ski tips dipped underwater and the rope pulled me face-first through a wave of water, dragging me fifteen feet before the rope handle slipped out of my hands. When they came back for me, they reminded me to sit back, pushing against the skis to keep them in front of me. Jerome had to swim out for the rope because the boat couldn't circle around me in the shallow water.
Another attempt got me partially out of the water until I tipped to one side and fell again. The third time was the charm; I found myself teetering but staying up. Sliding across the water's surface was exhilarating with the wind and water spray hitting me. Woody was yelling encouragement to relax and reminders to absorb bounces with bent knees but I stood stiffly and clutched the rope handle with a death grip. I did about three-quarters of a loop before my hands got too tired to hold on. Instructed to end in the middle of the lake, I simply let go of the towrope and sank to a stop. When the boat came back to me, I excitedly waved my hands over my head and cheered, "Woo-hoo! I did it!"
Woody dove in and surfaced right next to me, hugged me tight, and planted a big kiss. "You were awesome! Wasn't it fun?" he asked. Indeed, it was. Pumped with excitement after the cool water washed away my body's tension, I chattered about everything I could remember about it. Woody helped me get my skis off and put them into the boat before I climbed in to grab a towel.
Woody stayed in the water to put on the flotation belt and slalom ski. Eric had me sit in the middle of the front seat facing backwards so I could be the spotter. In no time, Woody waved his hand and I said, "Hit it." Woody disappeared behind a mound of water for nearly three or four seconds as the boat struggled to gain speed with his greater size and weight and smaller ski surface area. Slowly leveling, the boat accelerated faster.
With one foot behind the other on the ski and his broad shoulders, he looked like a narrow triangle pointing down. Eric turned the boat and we headed back toward the south shore. Eric explained that we would stay close to the southwest corner where the smoother water was because of the wind direction.
Woody disconnected the tow handle into two separate handles before turning outside the wake. He was leaning so far back against the pull of the rope, I thought he'd fall. He was flying and kept going further and further out, about three times as far as Jerome did. Suddenly, his ski flashed sunlight as he changed directions. With a sharp turn, he threw up a huge wall of water and was immediately slashing back toward the boat wake.
Hitting the wake-edge, he flew through the air nearly across the entire wake. I heard the ski slap back down in the water. Far, far out to the other side he raced, spreading his arms with the handles to absorb the rope slack as he straightened and slowed. Then a sharp turn and another wall of water before he was screaming back across the wake. An incredible sight to witness, my jaw hung open in awe. Back and forth he went. I could feel the boat yaw and slow as he dug in on the sharp turns.