Wholesome Carrie Ch. 01

Blonde, well-shaped, medium height, attractive. She exuded an aura of health, fitness, and decency. She was the ultimate girl you took home to meet your mother. The ultimate. He looked at her mouth, and the perfect teeth behind her lips that appeared when she laughed, setting off her bright blue eyes. Her eyes were wide-set and managed to keep her from being actually beautiful, but the total effect was one of glowing health and natural fulfillment.

Ridiculous.

She was laughing musically at a story he'd just told, a shockingly off-color tale of an encounter with a street prostitute who'd jumped into his car when he'd left the passenger door unlocked. Her head tipped back and she displayed a smooth, lovely neck, topped by her perfectly shaped head. Her hair, held in a ponytail of appropriate length, swished across her back. She was conservatively dressed in a youthful way, with a well-fitted, white T-shirt with a small logo on it, and tan shorts from some slightly upscale boutique. She had simple Keds on, white, and she was tan but not too much, figured but not cartoonishly, and pretty but not done up. He noticed a little cross on a discreet chain around her neck, just long enough to usually hide under the neckline, not long enough to dangle between her breasts. She looked like she was going golfing.

Christ, she was wholesome. He had to wonder why she didn't have a boyfriend. He knew she was in night school, in one of his classes, for some wholesome thing like physical therapy or pediatric medicine or something altruistic. He didn't really expect anything less from her, really. She'd put on a white coat and work at a well-appointed clinic, smelling of organic soap and freshness, making everyone jealous of her, particularly because she was so nice she was impossible to hate; for anything. She was extremely nice as well as fresh.

"Like a freshly squeezed glass of orange juice," he thought, weirdly. She could do health food ads. She looked like a fitness magazine cover: good looking, glowing, but not threatening to the grocery store army of women with three kids, not dirty enough to turn on their husbands. She'd finished the bottle of water she'd removed from its carrier on her bike, and looked around behind her at the landscape.

They were in a park, having met up by accident. He'd been out moving around, trying to get some sun after a heavy work week of being under fluorescent lights at his rather pointless job, and taking a break from the crush of homework. He'd been running, and stopped to rest when Carrie had stopped on her bike, recognizing him from a night class at the community college. It was a beautiful day, and they were sitting at a remarkably clean picnic table talking and basically shooting the breeze. He wanted to think the phrase 'shooting the shit' but couldn't manage to associate a vulgar expression with Wholesome Carrie.

"We've been here over an hour," Carrie said.

He started. "Really?" and involuntarily looked around and up at the sky. "Wow."

Carrie stood up, displaying nicely proportioned legs that managed to be both perfect and not quite perfect enough to be model quality. She looked firm and fit and glowed with freshness. Her hair gleamed and shined in the warm sun. She turned, and he watched her butt in the shorts, which managed to be sexy but not trashy.

He muttered, moving his mouth behind closed lips so as not be audible, "Good God."

He decided he didn't want to let go of the time with Wholesome Carrie, and tried to think of some way to extend the encounter. He glanced around at the park, and remembered a feature he'd last used with the kids of a visiting relative: paddle boats.

He went for it. "Hey, let's go on the paddle boats." He instantly felt idiotic. It was a childish thing to suggest, but it sounded (and, actually, was) fun and silly without being infantile. Carrie swiveled around at him.

She said, "They have paddle boats here? COOL!!" She laughed, a decent laugh without a single semblance of mockery, irony, or nastiness in it at all. "Let's go!"

He got up with her and in the next fifteen minutes or so they walked (Carrie pushing her bicycle) to the little lagoon set back in the park, and while Carrie locked up her bike to a rack, he went in and paid for an hour on the bright yellow, rubber ducky colored boats. He noticed a new feature since he'd last been there: a fountain blowing water in the air from the center of the lagoon. It was probably for bug control, but it managed to be charming. It was nice.

Over the next 45 minutes or so they paddled around the lagoon, laughing and fooling around, having a time he had to relate to the few good times, the not-awkward ones, that he'd had when he was in middle school; the times at carnivals with friends, the time at roller rinks. He caught himself enjoying himself immensely and forgetting all of his concerns, worries, and issues. Wholesome Carrie. She got mischievous, laughing, and fought him playfully over the pedals, and despite his best efforts managed to get them under the fountain and soak them both. He laughed through the whole thing, amazed at himself.

Carrie got soaking wet, and he had to notice that even with her shirt wet her bra covered her nicely, and he couldn't see a hint of nipple. Incredible.

Then with very little warning the sky darkened and the wind picked up. He realized he hadn't checked the weather for the weekend, and he looked up, gauging the wind with unconscious intensity. He thought immediately if there would be shears that could take down a helicopter. The loudspeaker shouted from the park office to get off the lagoon. He saw a very brief, but ominous, flash on the horizon.

They got in in quick time, secured the boat, and got under the small office lean-to. He noticed a flagpole next to it and didn't feel very safe. He thought quickly, and, really meaning nothing, turned to Wholesome Carrie.

He said, looking her over involuntarily, "My apartment is right across the street," and here he indicated the monolithic and very ugly complex in easy view. "This is gonna be a big storm. Do want to get somewhere safe and dry out?" He instantly felt creepy, and quickly added, "I'm not hitting on you or anything, I'm just saying it's not really safe out here by the water." He thought again, watching her weirdly grinning face, and added, "It's totally up to you."

She said, unexpectedly, "Sure." She continued, "That's a good idea. Let's get in shelter."

They left in a rush, her pushing her bike, him staying next to her as they got to his complex. He helped her get her bike on the racking around the back, and got inside. The air conditioning was absolutely freezing, and they both shivered their way to his apartment, clomping and squishing up the stairs. As they entered the hallway to his place the sky opened up, and a deafening roar hit the entire building, shaking the floor under their feet. It was a serious, violent summer storm. He was ahead of Wholesome Carrie, and he heard her squeak in a weird mix of surprise and excitement. He turned around, and she was shivering violently, shaking, and smiling widely. She was clutching herself and water was dripping down her face. He got her into his apartment, where it wasn't nearly as cold. He'd learned it was going to take a while to acclimate to cold after the year in suffocating heat, in the place he'd been last.

Wholesome Carrie stood in his living room, the only room really; it was a simple studio, the usual boxy kitchenette type place for single men with low incomes. Her teeth chattered and she asked, "Can I take a shower? A hot shower? I- am- freezing!" She laughed, nicely. She said, "And I smell like lagoon."

There was another explosion outside, and they both flinched. Carrie laughed. The windows were black. It looked like the middle of the night, and the only light in the apartment were the various displays on the electronics.

He said, "Yeah, sure," then caught himself and said, "Yes, of course. Bathroom's over there-" As he said it Wholesome Carrie shocked him right down to his squishy shoes. She murmured a thanks and took off her shirt right in front of him. She slapped the shirt over her shoulder with a smacking sound, bent down, and yanked her shoes off, kicking them aside. She hooked fingers in her shorts and took those off, too.

As he watched in complete surprise Wholesome Carrie stripped naked directly in front of him, clutching her soaking clothes in her hands without any attempt to cover herself at all. He realized after a few seconds he was staring, and turned his head. She laughed.

She said, "I was in an NGO for two years. I quit being shy a long time ago." She placed her clothes on the floor and padded towards his bathroom; and as he watched her naked back a huge, deafening blast shook the windows and the power went out. The naked woman turned, her body a pale slash in the room, and asked him, "Do you have any candles?"

He flinched and admitted he did. He retrieved a flashlight from next to the door and rummaged in the kitchenette drawers until he found the tea candles he kept for emergencies. While he found a lighter and prepared to light up a couple of the candles Wholesome Carrie came over and waited for a candle. He snuck a glance at her body: she was well proportioned, solid but not bulky, and she had nice breasts with tiny little nipples that, at the moment, were poking out. When he had two candles lit she took one, holding it with a practiced hand, and walked to the bathroom. He heard the shower running.

He stood in the candlelit room, a violent storm raging out the window, trying to figure out what, if anything, to do. He had a naked chick in his bathroom; and not just any naked chick, some kind of casually confident woman who didn't seem to care if he saw her naked or not. He was completely lost as to whether she was giving him some kind of sign or come-on or what.

He whispered to himself, in the gloom, "What the fuck?"

Then he decided to go in the bathroom, trying to think up an excuse as he walked.