The Stream

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She finds her sexuality alone.
1.7k words
4
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The late spring morning was beautiful. The sky had been scrubbed by a soft rain last night. The sun was glowing between the light, fluffy clouds drifting lazily through the sky. The beauty was lost on Christie. She had been driving aimlessly for awhile, her thoughts a dark contrast to the bright day. Ever since getting her drivers license fourteen years ago, this was what Christie did when she was sad or worried. It was her way of thinking, of coping with the mean vagaries of life.

She barely noticed the crunch of gravel under her slowly spinning tires as she went over her dilemma. She still remembered the wedding and honeymoon. She met Josh early in her senior year in college. It wasn’t quite love at first sight, but within a month she knew she wanted to be with him forever. When Josh asked her to marry him she didn’t hesitate. They married right after graduation, a lovely June wedding, and honeymooned on Maui. She stayed on the pill until eighteen months ago while she and Josh built their life together and built their home. When she stopped the pill, it was by mutual agreement.

After six months of excited anticipation, nothing. Trips to her doctor resulted in referral to a fertility specialist. She and Josh went through embarrassing interviews, invasive tests, and more months of frustration. Christie quit her job. That was not a major sacrifice. They had planned for her to stay home after she was pregnant anyway. Josh had been wonderfully supportive through all of it. They followed temperature spikes and charts and diets. He had even suggested a surrogate partner if she wanted. All the tests for both of them were normal. She would rather go without a child than be with someone else anyway. Last week they had talked about adoption. Josh was willing but they decided to wait awhile.

But the strain was showing in their marriage. Lovemaking, which had always been spontaneous and natural, had become a chore. Their tempers flared over minor things. Once they never seemed to have enough time to talk about everything they wanted to. Now there were hours of silence between them. Josh was working late more often. In her dark moments she had even become suspicious he had found someone else. She was barren. Their life together was less than it should be. She could understand what might happen. She knew, except when the depression descended like now, that Josh loved her and was faithful to his vows.

Christie, glancing in the rear view mirror, was surprised to see a rooster tail of dust trailing behind her. Somehow she had gotten to a dirt road. Looking ahead, becoming aware again of her surroundings, she saw she was on a narrow dirt track. Grass grew in the middle. She was in the middle of nowhere, a fitting match to her life. Christie pulled to the left side of the road, tears trickling hotly down her cheeks. Grabbing a tissue, she angrily wiped away the offending wetness. Self pity would not help anything.

She flung open the door and stepped out onto the side of the road, slamming the door behind her. Stretching out before her was a field that had not seen a plow for years. The fresh green of grass was lavishly spotted with splashes of color from spring blooms. The field sloped gently down to a strip of woods. The leaves were that fresh, cool, green of spring. Christie stepped over the shallow drainage ditch and began wandering through the field. She thought absently of picking some flowers to welcome Josh home that evening. The day had grown warm and the sun beat on her bare head. The grass rubbed softly against her bare legs, sometimes nearly reaching the hems of her shorts.

The cool woods seemed to draw her. She found herself at their edge. Up close, Christie realized it was a narrow band of trees with a short flow of grasses ending at a stream. She saw a path and went through. Now the stream drew her to its edge. It was swollen from the spring rains and seemed to sing to her as it tumbled over the rocks a short distance upstream. Mini-rainbows danced over the wavelets from the rapid flow and rough water tumbling through the rocks.

Christie was entranced, almost hypnotized, by the strength and sound of the water. She stepped out of her sandals and stepped into the edge of the stream. The water was cold. The current tugged at her ankles. Sand shifted under her feet, sending a sensation of her feet being gently massaged. The stream called her to its waters. She took a step and then another. Turning to face the flow, she let the water rush around her legs, caressing them. The wavelets tickled her inner legs, wetting the lower part of her shorts legs. The stream sang to her, inviting her seductively to share the sensuousness more fully,

Shaking her head, Christie turned and waded back to shore. She started to slip back into her sandals but the stream still called to her. She looked around carefully. There was nothing to see but woods, flowers, grass, and the stream calling to her. She heard only the sounds of nature blending with the siren song of the stream. Her hands moved to her top and the buttons opened. A quick tug and the tail was out. Another scan of the area and she shrugged it off, letting it fall to the grass. Her hands went to her back and the bra followed before she could change her mind.

Christie moved back to the edge of the stream. Before she stepped in she noticed the dampness of her shorts. Another nervous scan and she pulled them down and stepped out of them. Now she entered the stream again, only her cotton panties between her and it. Wading out until the water lapped her crotch, she faced the stream and let it caress her, tease her, entice her. Its voice permeated her consciousness. She stood there, the water cold but her body warm and receptive. Finally, with a shrug of submission, she grabbed the waist of her final barrier and pulled them down. She bent forward at the waist, the stream finding her breasts and caressing them, tickling her flat stomach. The last vestige of propriety was tossed, soaking wet, to the bank and she took another step deeper, giving herself fully to the stream.

Standing facing the raging need of the stream, her legs open to the water, lulled by its song, Christie gave herself fully to her lover. Her head was back, her eyes closed, as her heat increased, bringing her slowly, agonizingly slowly, to ecstasy, then to fulfillment. Her legs were like rubber and she sank to her knees in the rushing water, letting it rush over her, cooling the heat it had so recently generated. She was so relaxed she wasn’t sure she could move. Maybe it would be nice to just kneel here, her body engulfed in the stream. Maybe lay down., let it have all of her. It had been months since Christie had felt such peace.

Finally the cold won and Christie rushed to shore, shivering. She stood there, her back to the stream, suddenly embarrassed by her nudity. But the stream still called to her, telling her now of her beauty. She turned, letting the stream see her body. She could feel the warmth returning and shivering had stopped. With a tingling in her private place, she lay naked in the grass on her back, letting the sun warm and dry her, listening idly to the stream. She switched to her stomach to let her back dry. She was facing the stream, head on hands, as she silently thanked the stream for what it had done to her, for her. Finally she dressed again, except for her wet panties. Slipping into her sandals, she grabbed the panties and worked her way back through the woods.

Suddenly she heard the sound of a car engine. Her heart jumped. Was someone else here? Christie rushed toward her car, wanting its safety. As she neared it, she realized the engine sounds came from the car. She had failed to turn off the engine when she jumped out. The realization replaced one panic with another. Did the doors lock? A sigh of relief came as she crossed the choked drainage ditch and tugged on the handle. Christie clambered in and pushed the button that rolled down her window. Then she turned off the switch. She was tired. She pulled the handle and dropped the seat back down. She was tired as she lay back in the seat.

As Christie rested, she relived the last hour. Not wearing panties made her feel naughty. Her hand slipped inside the waistband of her shorts, finding only skin, then the roughness of pubic hair. Her hand slid further down, starting something that she hadn’t done since college. The old memories merged with those of the stream and the heat again flowed from the core of her being to her extremities, moans of ecstasy escaped her mouth, and then the collapse and sighs of completion. She lay there, letting peace permeate her.

Finally Christie sat up and popped the seat back in place. She surreptitiously wiped her fingers over her wet panties and started the car. Rolling up the window, she moved down the road until she found a wide spot. Christie turned the car around and returned through the settling dust cloud of her passage. She headed to a gravel road, hesitated, and then turned right. Her thoughts were focusing now, looking forward rather than back. The gravel ended at a paved road. Another hesitation, another right turn. A few minutes allowed Christie to plan what remained of her afternoon, then a left turn to a state road and she knew where she was. Shortly the overpass of the interstate appeared at the horizon. Her first act would be a shower. Then her best perfume, applied to the right places. Her outfit would be a favorite of Josh’s. A special dinner would be waiting for Josh.

As she turned on the interstate, Christie couldn’t wait to be home, for Josh to get home. Tonight would be special; tonight she and Josh would make a baby.

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RedHairedandFriendlyRedHairedandFriendlyover 17 years ago
Thanks. . .

A sweet story. This story has been mentioned in the New Story Review Thread as a "Blast From the Past" story selection. You can find this thread on Lit.'s Bulletin Board in the Author's Hangout forum.

Little BirdLittle Birdalmost 20 years ago
Impressiv

It's impressiv... There's no other word for it...

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