This was my graduation present from Bennett. He was the loud one, the guy with a story (and, for some of us, a bawdy song) for every occasion, and always larger than life. The last time I saw him, at my graduation, it seemed impossible that I might be an eyebrow taller than him – but his personality was still twenty feet tall. His cottage was the family party spot five months of the year, including family on other sides that I barely recognized. In fact, I'd never recognize them except at Bennett's cottage. So, when he gave me the keys for a five day weekend, this was kind of a big deal. "You only graduate once," he said in his pontificating voice. Then, so only I could hear, "and you might not have her forever. Make her happy." He nodded toward Gail. She blended in perfectly at the celebration: lovely in herself, gracious to everyone, and quietly away from those little family moments, conspicuously looking elsewhere with a distant smile. I'm equally sure that Bennett noticed the loose gray blouse and flowing black pants that accented and concealed her willowy figure, all at the same time. She had a magical knack of doing the least, but doing it perfectly.
So, we drove. We'd been together for a while, but were still feeling each other out. She loved uncle Bennett, though, so I knew we'd get along. We chatted easily on the way up, and looked forward to a few days between the grind of school and the grind of our new jobs. We stopped for groceries, including way too much wine, and I was very happy to see her head to the produce section first. The car had three times too much stuff in it for just us, just for one long weekend or short week, but we didn't care.
The weather cooled as we drove north. Clouds built up after we left the interstates, and rain started before we left paved roads. It got pretty bad by the time we got to the rutted lake road. Rain pounded the car as we pulled into the driveway, pooled with standing water. I stopped the car and we looked at each other.
"Umbrella?" she asked.
"Well, I'm water-washable."
She kicked off her shoes so they wouldn't flood in the driveway and went around to the back hatch of the car. I had hadn't quite had time to respond, so she had a wet, barely-tolerant look on her face by the time I opened the all the doors. Once she decided that the rain was there to stay, she was a bit impatient about any hesitance on my part. She'd stand there, flowing wet, for as long as it took me to do something intelligent.
We moved boxes of groceries into the cabin, a bag of clothes for each of us, and a few extras. She established a forward camp in the bathroom, staking out her territory with her few womanly essentials. I brought up the rear, making sure that supply lines from the kitchen were sound and secure to every part of the house.
"Is that it?"
"I think we got everything," I answered.
"Good, because this shirt has got to go."
Her thin white blouse had plastered itself, long since, across her back and ribs, and worked its clammy way across her chest. I had noticed all this, in detail. In particular, I had noticed how that thin white blouse stuck to not just the tops and sides of her breasts, but even some of the bottoms. ("Bra?" she once asked me. "What for?" She has that slim, small-breasted kind of figure that looks great in anything or nothing.) Any guy that grabbed her the way that shirt did would have gotten a black-belt wrist-lock, but my gaze seemed safe enough.
"Pass me that sweatshirt." She turned away and started to unbutton the cellophane blouse. A thick hoodie shirt covered the top of one box. Her wet blouse was on the floor then, her back to me, and her arms pointedly crossed. I flung the hoodie over her shoulder, and mostly didn't watch while she put it on. The bit of me that did watch saw her perfect breast in profile and the incurve of her back. When she turned toward me, I saw the front zipper open down to her navel, something her slim bust let her get away with. She certainly knew how to hold a guy's attention.
She had just picked up the wet blouse when the lights flickered and went out. We both stopped for a moment in the sudden darkness. Once my eyes adapted a little, I went to a window. "It looks like the whole block is out."
My cell phone lit a search through the kitchen drawers for some candles. Not knowing how long they'd be our only light, I lit just one. We grabbed some snacks and wine, and headed for the covered porch in the back of the house. Rain came down torrentially but vertically, so most of the screened porch remained dry. The low roar of the downpour and the darkness all around seemed to hide the whole world's sounds and sights from us, except for the open expanse of the lake.
"I'll be right there." Back in the living room, I laid in a fire in the fireplace, but didn't light it yet. Then I joined Gail back on the porch. We sat close and fed each other bits of cheese and fruit, enjoying the cool damp and the sounds of the rain. Once in a while, candle-light reached through her sweatshirt's open front and laid its hand on the side of her breast. I still don't know whether she realized what she was doing to me. I think the answer is yes, in a general way, but that tease seemed too unconscious.
Our eating slowed, and I put my hand on her leg, her jeans still damp.
"There hasn't been any lightning, has there?" Her question surprised me, because my own thoughts followed a very different course.
"No, and I haven't heard any thunder."
"Then I'm going swimming." She stood up in the darkness. The hoodie was unzipped and off before I had a chance to respond. Clammy jeans didn't slide down, but turned almost inside out as she peeled them off, then her panties rolled off into a twisted knot. She was way ahead of me in realizing that even the next door neighbors wouldn't be able to see a thing. Naked before I could even get my shirt off, she padded out the back door ahead of me. She covered the few yards to the lake shore and waded cautiously in.
I detoured to get two of those thick, double-size towels from the bathroom closet, brought them to the porch, then joined her in the rain. The cold touch of rain came as a shock at first. Mostly, though, it just awoke me to the sensations on every part of my skin. The lake water felt warm, at least to compared to the rain, so I followed Gail in. When water covered her up to the curve of her hip, she gave a shallow dive and breast-stroked onto the lake.
I need not have worried about neighbors. Lanterns showed in a few windows along the shore, but not in nearby houses. I swam out to where Gail was treading water. Just before I got to her, I submerged and grabbed her around the waist, under water. Her smooth skin wiggled out of my grip, and the chase was on.
She led me back to where the water was just shallow enough to stand, and I caught her again. My hands slid over her breast and bottom when she twisted away from me. A few feet away, she splashed me with a double handful of lake water. It sounds silly now – the rain still pounded onto us, so I couldn't get any wetter. No matter, we splashed, grappled, and giggled like kids in the rain.
I don't know if I caught her next or she caught me. She wriggled against me for a moment, as wet and squirmy as a frog, then we settled into each others' arms. I hugged her low, under the chest-deep water, where her waist filled out into womanly hip. Matted hair filled my other hand. Her arms around my shoulders, we shifted and the touch between our bodies widened. We stood like that for a moment, and I measured our warm points of contact in the cool rain and water.
Then she hooked both hands around the back of my neck, hopped up with a splash, and wrapped her legs around me. Her crotch pressed against mine. I felt her slim hips shift again, and the warmth of her open labia surrounded my erection. She leaned back in the darkness, put more warm pressure against my penis, and looked at me in the darkness. I almost took her right then and there. Instead, I traced one breast with my hand. Her nipple stood out like a fingertip, and her areola felt and stiff under my touch. I felt goosebumps too; we probably wouldn't be out here much longer.
She hopped back down into the water, and submerged. A moment later, I felt her open mouth consume my penis under water, with one of my buttocks in each hand. Then one hand took her mouth's place on my erection and she came up for air. Her gaze locked onto mine while her other hand explored below my erection. With rain chilling the lake, it made a much smaller handful than usual. "What happened to this guy?"
"He's just cold." Maybe she had never seen how a guy's balls retract in the cold, at least not that much. Then I heard thunder. "That's our cue to go in."
We waded back to shore, clumsily because of the water, uneven footing, and our close embrace. The cold had really worked its way into her thin frame, and she started to shiver. I had left the towels just inside the screen door, so it took only a second to unfold one and wrap her in its thick softness. I rubbed her shoulders and back briskly through the towel. Then I pulled the edge up over her head and mussed her hair to dry it, at least a little. She didn't even try to dry her legs, just wrapped the thick towel around herself even more closely – the bath sheet came almost down to her knees. I thought I heard her teeth chatter. I grabbed the other towel, blotted myself without unfolding it, and guided her into the living room.
Once she was huddled on the sofa, knees up to her chin, I checked the damper and lit the fire. The paper caught easily and the first of the twigs lit up, so I put the fire screen back. I wrapped my towel around my shoulders and sat down next to her. We sat like two fuzzy bundles and stared into the fire, half-hypnotized by its primal glow. The fire crackled over the rain and rumbling thunder outside.
Soon, her shivering stopped. I felt her unfold and relax, and saw that her towel wasn't clenched so closely around her shoulders. In fact, we had both opened our towels in front so we could feel the fire's glow. I let my towel fall around me, then opened one side of hers and wrapped it around the both of us. Her shoulder felt warm and strong under my arm. She and I enjoyed the moment quietly, as if there were no one else in the world.
After a while, Gail looked into my eyes. Her leg felt warm pressed up against mine, and I felt her hand on my thigh. The gaze between us became a kiss. It started gently, with delicate touches and withdrawals. Each of us explored the other's face with our lips. My other arm reached around, under the towel. At first, it crossed her tummy and reached for her waist. Then my hand roamed upward to cup a slim, firm breast. I couldn't quite reach between her legs, not until she opened to me. At that, she seemed to melt. Her hand in my lap found my penis and felt the last stages of its rise and thickening.
Even though our hands knew the other's body, we explored each other like first-time lovers. I followed the arch of her waist and hip, over and over, running my hand along it from every side. She folded her legs half-under her, and she leaned down to my lap again. Her hand guided my erection to her mouth, and she she warmed half its length in her mouth. I lay back and spread my legs, to give her easier access. She moved her other hand under me, to cup my balls and to press that sensitive spot just behind them. Even though she suckled with slow and gentle movements, I found myself way too close to coming in just a few minutes. A closer roll of thunder seemed to announce my moment to stop or go on.
I stopped. I backed away a little, released her head, and guided her face upward with a touch under her chin. She had the smile of someone making another happy, but looked at me quizzically. I lifted her mouth to mine and we kissed. Our lips touched each others' in warm, sloppy strokes. Her lips tasted sweet-salty, and slid over mine with honeyed smoothness. I tasted my pre-come on her mouth. I don't know why, but that has always felt incredibly intimate to me. Tasting her acceptance of my body gave it a kind of reality beyond words.
I leaned into our kiss, until she lay on her back with my body over her. Then my mouth worked its way down her elegant throat, across the gentle swell and gumdrop peak of each breast. I half-slid off the couch and continued kissing down her belly, to the neat thicket of dark hair between her legs.
Those legs folded under at an awkward angle, so I sat back while she stretched out. She settled on her back, with one knee bent and her foot on the seat cushion. The other leg draped gracefully off the couch, down to the floor. Even though I couldn't see details in the fire light, I knew that this position opened her to me. I knelt towards her and started kissing her pubis again. The towels lay discarded across the couch by that point - the chill was off us both, and the fire had little to do with it.
Like her, I took my time. I started at her rounded mons. Her thatch of pubic hair still carried the scent of lake water, but the warm, animal musk unique to Gail blended with it. I worked wide, warm kisses down her outer labia, feeling how they had thickened and filled with her excitement. I nibbled one of them with my lips, then the other. Then I slid my tongue into the easy gap between them, in a quick slide upwards that gave her a shiver and she opened even wider. My tongue and lips began to map out the complex terrain of her vulva, tracing every ridge and valley.
With her bottom half off the couch, it looked as if she could fall at any minute. I held one hand under her for support – then noticed the flexing in her leg and hip. My other hand reached up to the low, graceful curve of a breast. Cupping it from the side, I mounded it up on her chest. My thumb ran across her areola, thickened like fudge freezing on a mound of ice cream. I gently scissored it between my thumb and the side of my hand.
I have no idea how long I knelt between her opened legs. Her hands guided my head with little touches. Her pelvis arched down then up off the cushions, guiding me from top to bottom of the pink valley, then back again. Waves of thunder outside seemed to narrate the waves of tension that pulsed through her body. Once, when I could reach low enough, I stretched my tongue as far as I could, into her vagina's entryway. She froze and clasped my head to her muff just as lightning flashed outside. Thunder roared, then rolled away while my tongue explored the warmth and flavors inside of her. Her breath rushed out then, and she tugged my head up to where we could share our gaze – and to where my tongue aligned to her clitoris. Using my lightest touch, I opened my mouth wide and pressed it against her. In the midst of my warm breath, the tip of my tongue found that precious crease at the top of her vulva, her swollen clitoris.
Back and forth, it toggled across the tip of my tongue. I pressed it gently against the pubic bone behind, shifting it back and forth. Gail's breath came ragged now. She held my head more firmly against her, but my tongue continued its delicate dance. Hips and shoulders up, her body bowed into orgasm and the lightning roared again. A moment later, her voice caught up to the tremors, in a deep and throaty duet with the fading thunder. Her body locked for a moment, then unwound back onto the couch.
I kept my mouth on her pubis, even though she had released my head, but just held. Aftershocks rattled her frame, seemingly synchronized to distant thunder. She never really relaxed, though. My lips' pressure against her clitoris wouldn't let her. I waited a moment or two, then started moving again, just the slightest bit at first. My hand on her belly felt cords of muscle rising again. My lips collected her clitoris and pressed it against the supporting bone, while my tongue washed it in broad strokes. I didn't worry about a light touch this time. Her body demanded stronger feelings, and I gave them. It seemed like only seconds later, then lightning struck nearby and another orgasm took over every muscle in her body. Still, I wouldn't let her go.
I lost count after a while. The next time, I pressed my finger into her vagina just as she came. Then, on some later crest, I used two fingers, pressed up to find that sensitive spot inside her. After a while, I couldn't even tell where one orgasm ended and the next began, or whether it ended at all. Through it all, the storm's illumination and complex percussion accompanied us. I'm not superstitious or anything, but I could have sworn our bodies had been choreographed to that other natural spectacle.
Finally, gasping, she pulled me up and over her. "It's too much. You have me jumping at every touch. Please." I lay across her, holding as much of my own weight as the position allowed, and spread wet kisses across her mouth – wet with her vaginal scent, as much as anything else.
Gravity finally won out over our tenuous perch on the couch. We slid, by steps, to the floor below us. Gail slumped softly across my shoulder as real relaxation enveloped her. She looked down at my raging erection and started to fondle it. "You need a turn now." She got up, gave my penis a squeeze and my cheek a pecked kiss, and went toward the bathroom. She came back in a moment, grabbed the candle, and retreated again. I heard water run, but not much else over the storm.
She came back with a warm washcloth, and lovingly swabbed my face. Then I saw the little envelope of a condom in her hand – two or three actually. She held one up to the flickering light, then passed it to me. "You do it this time, I can't see well enough." Long practice made it easy to open and put on.
By the time I was done, Gail had stretched out on the couch again. A corner of my mind was glad she had the towels under her. Mostly, though, I saw one leg extended along the seat and the other up on the back cushions, inviting me to the space between. Her hand between her legs seemed to reserve my space. I felt a little clumsy, climbing over her leg on the unsupportive surface and avoiding the crevices between cushions, but found my way between her legs and leaned down to her. Looking into my eyes, she reached down and held my penis in one hand. She guided it towards her vagina, then her hip tipped up and I was in.
I started by settling my body onto her, naturally pressing deeper in as I went. My penis stopped at that ring of muscle inside her vagina. I rocked my hips, and worked deeper in a little at a time, opening that interior door that seemed to close around me. She kept one hand on my bum, holding my hips to hers. The other hand wandered, holding my shoulder or stroking my nipple. I felt myself rise and push against her when she did that and she smiled. She lifted the outer leg, so I could push deeper into her.
"I already came," she said. "This one's for you." I grasped her leg in front of me, pulled my knees up around her, and pulled her hard onto me. My body was barely under my control at this point. I bucked against her, watching her breasts jiggle at every pounce.
I sat up, still inside her, and worked my knees under her. Then I reached down and lifted her shoulders toward me. In a moment, she was sitting on my lap with her legs around me. One arm around her shoulder, one hand where her back swelled into a rounded hip, I pulled her close and pressed down. That became my new rhythm, hold hard and release. I knelt up with each surge, lifting her with me. Her slender body absorbed all the strength I poured into it. She even angled her hip to sink a fraction deeper onto me, demanding more.
At last, I lifted up, bucked once inside her, then again. On that second thrust, the sky exploded. I swear, it sounded like the lightning was in the room with us. I never heard it that loud before, not in my whole life. I jerked twice as hard in startlement - the sky's blast came at the same instant as mine. My mouth opened with some animal sound, and faced down to hers. The flash outside showed me the most radiant smile I had ever seen on her. I held her and rocked and rocked and rocked, until my orgasm passed and a moment beyond. Then I leaned down with her, setting her back on the couch. We fell the last few inches and bounced on the cushions.