No One Wears Yellow Anymore

My first posted story -- please critique and comment. All characters are 18+

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No one wears yellow. I'm not talking the muted cream yellow that brings out a nice tan, but bright yellow like the stripe on the highway. I wish more people did to remind me of this time growing up. I spent all my years in a small mountain town in the middle of Colorado's Rocky Mountains. In the mid 1980's, we didn't have a movie theater, a mall, or even a big name grocery store, but we did host girl's softball. The summer evenings were punctuated by the sound of a bat on a ball under the daylight bright mercury lamps lighting the diamond fields. Teams traveled from every corner of the U.S. to come and play in the altitude of our little town. It was nice growing up and having the pleasure of watching these shapely athletic girls play their game. High school discussions were held by the guys around the idea of what it would be like to see the team locker room. With nothing better to do than go fishing, my friends and I attended quite a few softball games to check out the players and cheer and whistle for the pretty ones.

My interest in girls was high, but every female in my class was someone I had known since kindergarten. We were all more like sister and brother than anything romantic. After graduation, I was 19, looking a college career in the face and had summer to spend down by the river, wading and fishing until I took off for school. I had said goodbyes to many of my friends who started commuting down the valley to work in the condos and restaurants of the rich and famous, so I ran alone most days enjoying my growing up memories.

One blue skied morning I headed off with my fishing pole across an old sandlot ball diamond to a spillway pipe that led to the creek that runs through town. There was a girl's 18-20 year old tournament in town and every open piece of public land had an RV parked in it. I walked past a team of ball players sporting bright yellow jerseys and gray pants. They were emblazoned across the breasts "The Lady Jazz" in calligraphic black letters. I didn't pay too close attention to the ladies, but noticed most were easy to look at. Tight butts in tight pants. Having little experience with women and having fishing on the mind, I walked past the team warm up session and entered the concrete pipe that led through the bank to the river. I had walked this route to gain access to the river since I proved to my Mom I could swim when I was seven. The pipe was six feet in diameter and opened into the sandlot as a flood diversion structure. The other end of the pipe opened to the river and if the water rose to the mouth of the pipe, it would flow into the sandlot and fill the holding pond until the river receded. Upon going down, the water would then reverse course and flow back into the river. I only saw it work once in my 19 years and the downtown still flooded that day, but it gave easy access to some of the greatest fishing holes I have ever seen. I entered the pipe and walked the 70 feet to the other side where the sound of the river was rich and inviting. I took my time in the cool air of the spillway and came to the bars that guarded the exit and was ready to squeeze through when I heard voices coming from the entrance of the pipe.

"Go on ahead, I have to pee, or I am going to leak all the way back!" came a singsong voice with a rich southern accent. Two giggling girls walked by the entrance of the spillway and a third turned into the mouth of the pipe. She walked a good distance into the pipe, cleats chattering on the concrete, and stopped to let her eyes adjust to the dim environment. I was frozen in place until I put down my fishing rod and walked back towards the center of the spillway. What caused me to go back in, I will never know but the girl at the front of the pipe heard my footsteps.

"I didn't know this was occupied. What are you doing in here?"

"I was just walking through to go fishing in the river. Are you lost?" I asked, pretending I didn't hear the conversation at the mouth of the pipe.

"Do you live here? Are you a local?"

"I am." I replied. "I grew up here."

"Good. Maybe you can tell me where the darkest part of this pipe is so a girl can take a pee." She sang with her accent while dancing in place just a bit like a little kid who really must go.

"I suppose here in the middle at the curve in the pipe." I replied. "I'll head out the other side."

"Into the river?" came her concerned response. "Just stay put and I'll get done with what I came for." She set down her bat bag, kicked off her cleats, slopped out of her socks, and quick walked towards me into the middle of the concrete tube. Leaning against the curved wall, in a single motion she pulled her sliding pants to her knees, squatted, and started to relieve herself.

"Guard that end of the pipe!" she commanded in a loud whisper. I watched interested as the puddle beneath her grew in size and then noticed she was watching me staring at her hip. My eyes looked up to meet hers.

"No one will come through here." I assured her knowing it was true.

"What's your name, Local?" she cooed and her accent echoed in the pipe.

"Dan." I replied.

"Keep talking. It will take a minute to drip dry." She said. I reached into my pocket and removed a camouflage handkerchief I carried everywhere I went.

"I've carried this and a cigarette lighter around since fourth grade. It's soft . . . and clean." I stammered. I walked closer to her noticing her naked hip and not sure of what to do or say when she smiled and reached out for the cloth.

"It won't be clean when I'm done." She giggled and took the handkerchief to dry herself. I looked away during the time she had to open her knees to gain access to use the handkerchief. My eyes moved to the toes of her feet, painted red, as she got redressed. I couldn't bring myself to view her any higher in the state she was in, not wanting to press my advantage. She noticed my eyes now looking at the concrete floor. She walked a few steps away from her mud puddle and stopped beside me. We walked a few steps farther into the pipe.

"Am I not your type, Local? Or are you just not good at talking to girls? Embarrassed you saw my hip? But, I didn't see you looking any higher." I felt my ears get hot and knew I was noticeably red in the face even in the dim light.

"Sorry Dan. That was a bit mean on my part. Too much too fast. You've told me some about you; what do you want to know about me?" My eyes came off her red toes to her hand holding out the camo cloth.

I mumbled "Sometimes too much the gentleman. Where are you from?" as I took the cloth from her long-fingered hand.

"I'm a Georgia peach." Came the quick response. "Can't you tell from my voice? My Mamma's got it even worse. 'Turns the fellas on.' she always said. Do you like it?"

"Oh my god! I could talk to you all afternoon!" I blurted like a kid.

"What else?" she prompted. "My girlfriends are going to be real interested in knowing I had a conversation with someone who grew up in this town."

"What's your name?" I asked. She turned and lifted her blonde ponytail to show me the back of her yellow jersey where the name 'Bowman' was stenciled above the number 30.

"Miss Bowman it is cute how you pull your ponytail through the back of your hat." I tried to make some conversation with this stranger all the while thinking why is she talking with someone like me?

"You are not real skilled in picking up women, are you Dan? Here's the scoop about me. My home in the summer is a thirty four foot RV that holds me and my parents. They drive me all over the God forsaken nation to play softball so that I can maintain a scholarship and go to college cheap. There they want me to play more softball. I hate softball and only want to stay home in the air conditioning and drink Coke and hang out with my boyfriend. I want to be a teacher. I would love to attend school in a place like this where people care about the shit that goes on around them and not about a stupid game that means nothing if you win or lose!"

"Well why don't you just quit? Do what you want?" I asked.

"Damn Local, you are naïve. Quitting gets nothing done and I would rather be here talking to you than doing nothing, life passing me by. Double standard I'm sure is what you're thinking, but you know women. Right?"

"Sure!" I replied much too enthusiastically with my hands up.

Looking through squinted eyes of disbelief she said, "Can I ask you something?"

Looking quizzical I replied, "Uh, sure but ..."

She cut off my response, "You obviously don't have a sister. Have you ever seen a girl's skin? In real life? Like my hip just now? Because you are acting rather goofy."

"What? Well yeah, um, kind of." I stammered totally caught off guard. She laughed and continued to laugh as I went into a story about swimming in a deep bend in the river just upstream from where we were, with a friend named Kelsey. "We met in kindergarten and we grew up together. While swimming she started flirtatiously splashing me and trying to push my head underwater and she lost her swimsuit top in the scuffle. She had nice breasts and didn't hurry to get redressed when I fetched her top. She refused to get dressed before I touched her. She felt nice...soft and warm. I think she untied herself and wanted more from me, but she is more like a sister than a love interest. Sorry, that was a really long answer to say I have seen a real girl naked; from the waist up that is."

"I really like you Dan. You are genuine to a fault. Listen, I hate my life of softball and perpetual camping. I need to have a good time occasionally. It is a necessity for us southern redheaded belles to enjoy ourselves. Can you help me today to have a good time?"

I nodded enthusiastically thinking of the pizza joint downtown and maybe driving up to one of the summer running ski lifts. I started voicing my pizza plan when she interrupted me and cooed,

"I hope you will let me help you, too. You are genuine and naïve! Show me a Colorado mountain town local good time!" Her hands went to the waistband of her gray sliding pants and she started to slide them down her legs. She turned her back to me and wiggled her gray pants down. Her lower back came into view and soon I could see the toned muscles of her butt. As she slid her pants off for the second time in my presence, this time much closer to me, I noticed how shapely her body was. Her cute butt was completely uncovered while she worked her tight pants lower on her legs. I could feel the quizzical look on my face, my mouth gaping open, and wondering where this was going as I questioned,

"No underwear?" my voice catching in my throat and sounding like a hoarse whisper.

Matter of factly she said, "Dan, I play catcher. At any given game there are 70 people in the spectator section behind the plate. They are all staring at my ass. No self-respecting girl is going to have a panty line showing in that situation." Slightly out of breath at wiggling her pants to her ankles, she turned to show me her ass, tanned high on the hips and cream light skin to the middle. Dancing a quick bit, she turned to the side as she bent forward to remove the pants from her calves and ankles. Turning to face me and tossing the pants farther down the pipe she said,

"There! Now you have seen a girl naked from the waist down." My gaze started at her red painted toenails and made the seemingly unending journey up her long tan legs. When my eyes finally reached the point where her legs met together I noticed just a bit of fuzz and a pink flower that showed amongst the cream color of her skin. Instantly I could tell the type of swimsuit she preferred because of the creamy skin where her tan line ended. She turned to face away showing me her heart shaped butt again, tan all the way to the top of the mounds. She was watching my reaction from over her shoulder.

"Well, are you just looking, or do you want to touch?" Not believing this could possibly be happening, I put out one rough hand and cupped her tight butt lightly in my palm. I brought my hand back as I felt an urge to give a gentle pinch to her supple flesh. Her skin was so soft, I was instantly aware of my rough and calloused hands and the bulge in my jeans that was getting tighter. Her hands went to the buttons on her jersey and she began working them loose from the bottom to the top. She wore a gray heather bra underneath that I was catching glimpses of as she worked her buttons and kept turning to give me different angles as more skin came into view.

"Touch my belly! I dare you! It's probably harder than yours." I touched the skin there and agreed it was hard but so amazingly smooth. I moved my hands into my pockets to somewhat hide the tent effect going on in my jeans and asked,

"Do you do this often?"

"Don't say stupid things, Dan." She rolled her eyes up into her head and said, "I am not a slut, I have a boyfriend." Her blue eyes on mine she explained, "I just feel like I can show you a thing or two from outside these mountains. I don't know if it is the altitude or that I'm feeling a bit horny but I showed you my bottoms and I have this desire to be the girl to put the tops and bottoms together for you." I must have looked confused with my head turned to the side in misunderstanding. She giggled and whispered as if telling an inside joke, her hands cupped around her mouth,

"A girl naked. I want you to see tops and bottoms. Together. From me, a Georgia peach!" Her hands gestured over her bra and naked thighs as she slid her arms out of her jersey. She tossed off her hat pulling the red blonde ponytail through the strap in the back. The clothes made an untidy pile in the pipe as this southern goddess raised her arms above her head, turned, and whispered,

"Undo me please before I change my mind." My eyes swept again from her feet to her great butt. My fingers clumsily unfastened the clips of her bra. Hook and eye closures were a new thing to me and it almost surprised me when it opened. The elastic released its stretch and the band hung free. She slid the straps off her shoulders and into the pile of garments went her last piece of clothing.

"Well?" she demanded, turning. "Are mine nicer than Kelsey's?" My eyes raked over her nudity from her ponytail and face, down her chest, to her belly and forbidden mound between her long legs. My eyes focusing again on her red toenails I breathed,

"You are amazing! Who's Kelsey?" I said feeling my jeans getting very tight in the front. I was breathing rather hard. Her entire body was tan with faint freckles across her chest. She giggled at my joke and shifting her weight from one leg to the other made her breasts jiggle so slightly. They were not small but quite firm from her practiced throwing action and so the nipples turned up on the tips looking me in the eyes as I stared and took in this adorable sight. Her pink nipples stood out from the cream flesh of her breasts but were camouflaged within the freckles that graced her ample chest, shoulders, and pretty cheekbones. She stood naked in front of me, watching my reaction. Rolling her blue eyes she said,

"Really Local? You have no idea what to do with me? What did you say a bit ago? Too much the gentleman. Ahh, it is refreshing to be in a small town!" Her hands on her hips made her breasts stand firm at attention. They were tan where the sun had kissed the top and in between of her soft mounds but were creamy white in the shape of her triangle summer bikini top. The stark lines showed she spent some time at the pool. Her blue eyes twinkled and reflected my look for a moment when she seemed to communicate with her gaze and just a small tilt of her head for me to look down her body again. Taking her silent permission, my eyes drank in her nudity as I looked up and down her body. I wondered if she was chilled by the cool air in the pipe or if she was turned on to be on unashamed display, but her nipples were tight and stood out from the gentle rise of her round breasts. Pleasurable to behold in her proportion, everything fit together to form her body. Long legs led up to her flat, smooth belly, which rose to her curvy breasts. I was enjoying the sight and trying to figure out where this was going when our eyes met as she was taking out her red ponytail.

"I told you before, you can look all you want Local, I don't mind. I feel safe in your small town. Although, I'm willing to do more!" she quipped, winking at me.

Realizing our only physical contact was me grabbing her ass for two seconds and tracing her belly, I argued formally,

"Miss Bowman, this is a bit fast for me and I'm trying to be a gentleman about this." She took two steps forward, closing the gap between us. I could feel the warmth of her skin in the cool air of the pipe. Her accent intoxicated my thinking when she replied whispering in my ear and nibbling my earlobe,

"Okay. You are just too nice! Let me help." She shook out her mane of red hair while her hands worked quickly on my shirt, belt, and pants. Stumbling out of my clothing I awkwardly stood before her, both of us naked. Her eyes took me in and she nodded her approval. I felt myself reddening in the face as my erection stood at attention. She dropped her look to it, then back into my eyes as she said,

"Okay. Since I'm driving this ship I have two conditions. One, are your hands clean?" I nodded afraid to speak because my voice might crack. She took my left hand and placed it on her breast. Then in a stern voice she stated,

"Two . . . you absolutely cannot cum inside me. Absolutely not!"

"O - Okay." I stammered thinking this can't be happening, my hand filled with her soft mound.

"Absolutely not! You don't seem the type to carry a condom in your pocket. You sure?"

"I'm not sure. I've never done this before." I said with more purpose, not knowing what to expect next. She backed away from my hand on her chest and raised her pointer finger at me.

"I will be very upset if that happens!" her long index finger wagging in my direction.

"Look, take a seat right here and I will straddle your lap. I will get you inside and we can go from there. Hopefully, you last a bit to get this steamy feeling out of my body. I am really ready for a good release. Does this sound like a plan?" I swallowed hard and stood there slightly shivering in my turned-on state. She reached out again for my hand.

"Nice and slow, okay? You should have a good time for your first! I would be honored for you to have me as your first." I nodded as I sank into a seated position on the silt covered concrete floor of the pipe.

"Questions or concerns?" she asked as my naked butt settled into the soft sand in the pipe. My voice unable to escape my body, I only shook my head no. She moved from her standing position in front of me where I was looking up at the freckles between her breasts and lowered down to me and hugged our naked bodies together. Her breasts pressed into my face while she gently lowered herself to the floor of the pipe and hovered just above me. Her smell was earthy and a bit like sandalwood. She leaned back a bit and my gaze went down to where, in disbelief, I watched as 'Miss Bowman' lowered her perfect body onto mine. The slight round of the floor of the pipe helped to align our bodies. Every contact was warm and soft and I tried to etch every feeling into my brain. Her spread legs reveled her womanhood to my sight, groomed close with just that bit of fuzz leading to her flowery center. My hands were on her knees and slowly moved up her thighs. She slid down my body, her breasts level with my eyes. She repositioned a couple of times to get us aligned, my member, harder than I could ever remember, aiming at her musky flower. I looked into her sparkling eyes when my erection finally touched her moist slit and I jumped at the sensation.