Foursome in the Mud

Author's note: All characters portrayed in the story are aged 21 or older. This is a work of fiction; any resemblance between the characters in the story and any persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. This story contains mild incest. If you are offended by the subject matter, proceed no further.

I was butt naked when I met the girl of my dreams. Yet, that was not the most unusual circumstance of that improbable introduction. She was naked as well on that fateful day, as were the twenty or thirty other people in the area. It just goes to show that there is some wisdom in the old Boy Scouts' motto: Be prepared.

It was the summer between my junior and senior years at the university. A few days earlier, one of my housemates–a part-time hedonist taking summer classes at the local community college–introduced me to "the quarry," a little-known swimming hole located about five miles outside of town. At the center of the abandoned quarry, a spring-fed pool of the coldest, clearest water in the county was home base for a secretive community of naturists. I joined that unofficial club the first week of summer vacation, and spent the rest of the summer driving to my personal paradise at every opportunity.

On that fateful day I left for the quarry right after lunch. I took a towel, a book, and a small cooler containing a few beers–just enough to maintain a mild buzz throughout the afternoon. I parked alongside the road a half mile from the quarry. There were two parking areas within walking distance of the swimming hole; the closer of the two resulted in a walk of only about a hundred yards, but that was where the cops went first on their semi-weekly roust of the naturists. They always took down license plate numbers prior to chasing everyone out of the quarry. The alternated parking area was much further away–nearly a half mile walk through the mosquito-infested woods–but the cops didn't seem to know about it. At least no one parking there had ever received a citation. That was where I always parked.

I found my favorite rock unoccupied, so I spread out my towel, dropped my shorts and t-shirt, and jumped into the frigid water to rinse the sweat from my body. I swam back and forth across the pool for about twenty minutes, then returned to my towel. I dried off, opened a can of beer, and then took a good look at my surroundings. While I was swimming the small crowd of about twenty had grown to over thirty people. I scanned the shoreline from east to west, and that's when I spotted her, lying on a towel about twenty yards to my left.

I put on my sunglasses, sat down on my towel, and tried to think of a way to approach her. I had never been shy around girls, but never before had I attempted to introduce myself to a nude woman. It goes without saying that I had never tried to meet a naked girl when I was also naked. It's more difficult than one might think. No matter how hard I tried, I could not gather the courage to move from my towel. I ended up sitting on that rock for nearly an hour and a half, doing nothing more than sipping beers and hiding behind my aviators.

Thank God for those counterfeit Vuarnets that I found in the library. Without turning in her direction, I was able to stare at her naked body for almost ninety minutes. I watched her read a book. I watched her jump in the water and swim. I watched her climb back onto her rock and towel herself off. I watched her apply sun screen to her entire body. It was at that point that I finally moved–I had to lie face down to hide my erection.

The crowd continued to grow, and the sparse female population finally became more abundant. Nonetheless, I only had eyes for the golden-skinned girl with curly brown hair hanging just past her shoulders. She stood about five feet, seven inches tall. She had an athletic build, well-toned legs and arms, a flat stomach, and breasts that looked like C-cups sitting high on her chest. Her dark brown aureoles were about the size of a quarter, and her nipples pointed upward at forty-five degree angles. A thick bush of dark curly hair glistened in the afternoon sun. I never believed in love at first sight, but at that moment I was forced to reassess many of my former beliefs.

The hours passed. People came and left, jumping in the water and then climbing back onto the rocks to sun themselves in the afternoon heat. Regulars greeted each other, shared beers, and passed joints from one to another. My golden girl with the thick bush didn't leave her rock, however, so I remained anchored to mine. If she would just jump into the water again, I could dive in and swim near her. That's all the opening I need.

The afternoon tranquility was shattered when two new guys ambled down the path and spread their towels on the rock next to the golden girl. One guy carried a boom box cranked up to eleven, while the other carried a large cooler. The two immediately offered beers to everyone seated near them, including her. I was heartbroken as I watched her sit up, take a beer, and begin talking to one of the louts. That's what you get for waiting too long. As my history teacher always said: "he who hesitates is lost."

I sat up and watched Goldie and Party Guy, trying my best to appear inconspicuous while my insides roiled. I had my chance. I blew it. The only person I can be mad at is me. Finding my erection diminished, I jumped into the water to cool off.

Fifteen minutes later I emerged from my swim, only to find her gone. My first thought was that she had left with Party Guy, but a quick survey revealed that he had moved on and was chatting up two more naked girls on another rock. Realizing I had missed her, I looked over and saw that her towel and clothes were gone, as well. I was relieved that she did not leave with Party Guy, but disappointed that I had blown my opportunity to meet her.

I dried off, got dressed, and left. On the walk back to the car and throughout the drive home I tried to analyze the situation and my complete failure to take advantage of the opportunity. I never before had a problem talking to girls on campus or at bars. I almost always got lucky at parties. On rare occasions I had even met girls on the street and ended up staying at their places for the night. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, I still could not imagine my naked self approaching a naked girl. It was incomprehensible.

I spent the next week contemplating that problem. I went to the quarry every day, hoping for another opportunity to talk to her. I left every evening, frustrated that I had not seen her. At the same time, I was also relieved that I did not see her, as I still did not have a viable solution to the nudity conundrum.

Everything changed on the ninth day. I exited the woods and turned on the path that led to the northern edge of the pool. I rounded a bend along the water, only to find that my favorite rock was occupied. Looking for a new place to set up, I turned to the left and saw no good spaces. I turned to the right and saw her, laying face down on a rock a few feet from my favorite spot. There was an empty rock next to hers. I picked up the pace and made a bee-line for that rock.

I claimed a spot less than ten feet from her. I've established a beachhead. I pretended not to notice her as I took off my shorts and t-shirt. My manhood immediately started to rise, so I dropped myself face-down onto the towel to hide my arousal. I turned in her direction and got my first good look at her perfect butt. She was blessed with tight round cheeks that were the same golden color as the rest of her skin. Each side of her lower back had a dimple above the butt cheek. I imagined that the dimples disappeared when she assumed the doggy-style position. That thought caused my erection to throb painfully between my belly and the rock, so I forced myself to look away.

A minute later I heard a splash. I glanced up to see her swimming across the pool, agitating the still water as she swam away. Get up! Go! She wants to be followed! I sat up and reached for the cooler. I opened a beer and watched as she reached the opposite end of the swimming hole. That particular spot was the only place where the ground sloped into the water. Everywhere else there was a drop off from the rocks to water–in some places only a foot, and in others as much as six feet. She walked out of the water and onto the path that led from the water to the surrounding hills. I had never explored that path. I preferred to stay in the water or on the rocks at the opposite end.

Miss Golden Buns disappeared behind a hill. Follow her, damnit! She's leading me to the hills! I tried to recall every conversation I ever had with anyone regarding the quarry, but no one had mentioned the path leading from the water to the hills on the far side. I had no idea what was over there. As soon as I finish this beer, I'll swim over there and find out for myself.

Goldie returned before I could move. She walked into the water, turned onto her back, and swam a slow backstroke to the rocky side of the pool. She reached the rock where I was sitting, and stood on a ledge at the edge of the water.

"Excuse me," she said, extending one arm toward me. "Can you give me a hand?"

I almost dropped my can of beer.

"Um, sure, what can I do for you?"

"I need help getting up this rock."

Countless times I had stood on the precise spot where she was standing. I knew it was not difficult to climb out of the water at that point. A mere six feet to her left was a different story, but she was standing on a ledge that almost formed a natural ladder. I'm in. Motherfucker, I am in.

I stood up and walked to the edge of the rock. As I squatted down to take her hand, I noticed that my flaccid cock was hanging less than two feet from her face. Without warning, it started to swell when I took her hand and pulled her out of the water.

"Thank you," she said as she emerged from the water. "I always have a hard time climbing out on this side. It's so much easier on the sandy side."

She stood up, reached behind her head, and pulled her hair into a ponytail. Her back arched and her breasts jutted skyward as she squeezed the excess water from her hair. I felt my dick stiffening.

"Would you like a beer?" I offered, hoping that a change of subject would reverse the flow of blood to my cock.

"Yes, thank you. I'm Astrid, by the way."

"Here you go, Astrid," I said, handing her an ice-cold beer. "My name is Ramon. "

"Nice to meet you, Ramon."

"The pleasure is all mine."

"I can see that."

I stared into her eyes as a bewildered expression formed on my face.

"Your excitement is showing."

Astrid looked from my eyes to my crotch. Following her eyes, I looked down and saw that I had already reached half-mast.

"Let's sit down. It's not considered good form for you to walk around here with a boner, you know. People will think that you're a pervert. We're all perverts, to some extent, but obvious perverts are not welcome here."

"I'm sorry," I stammered. "I didn't mean to..."

"Don't apologize. From what I can see, I'd call that a promising start to our friendship."

We sat down and finished our beers. I opened a second beer, but Astrid declined.

"I have to work this afternoon. I can't go in with a buzz."

"Where do you work?"

"The Village Inn. I'm a waitress. Do you know where that is?"

"Of course. Everyone knows 'the Inn'."

"You should stop by and see me tonight," she smiled. "I would enjoy the company."

"You wouldn't get in trouble?"

"Not as long as you keep ordering and I keep working. I could even sneak you a free pitcher of beer every once in a while. Just don't tell anyone."

"I can keep a secret."

"Speaking of secrets, how did you find out about the quarry? We've managed to keep this place a secret from most of the university students."

"One of my house mates is a local. He brought me here about a month ago. I've been coming here almost every day since then. How did you know I'm a student, by the way?"

"You always bring a book. Most of the guys who come out here just stare at the tits and asses and pussies."

"Well, I bring a book, but I don't get too many pages read when I'm here. How about you?"

"I've been coming here since I was in high school, but only a couple times a month."

"How long ago was high school?"

"Long enough."

"I get the feeling that you don't want to tell me how old you are."

"Does it matter?"

"Not really, but you already have a good idea how old I am."

"I suppose. How old do you think I am?"

"Well, you can't be any older than me."

"I'm sure that I am."

"Really? Not by much. You don't look older than me."

"So, you're a flatterer and a flirt. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you were trying to get into my pants."

"Well, that's an interesting concept Astrid–since you aren't wearing any pants."

"Just because I'm naked and drinking a beer with you is no reason for you to think that you've succeeded. Not yet, at least."

"I'm never presumptuous."

"Is that silver tongue of yours good for anything besides talking?"

"Why don't we go back to your place, so you can find out?"

"I told you, I have to work tonight. Are you going to try and talk me into calling in sick?"

"That depends..."

"EVERYONE GET OUT OF THE WATER AND WALK TO YOUR CARS. I REPEAT, EVERYONE GET OUT OF THE WATER AND WALK TO YOUR CARS."

A cop with a bullhorn was standing at the southern edge of the water. Another cop was circling the far side of the water toward the hills. Everyone jumped up and started running in all directions.

"Where's your car?" I asked.

"That way," she answered, pointing to the northern edge. "Through the woods."

"Mine too. Grab your stuff and let's go."

Astrid and I put on our shoes, grabbed our clothes and other belongings, and sprinted toward the northern path. Running in only our sneakers, we caught a group of seven or eight other people who were also heading in that direction. We reached the trail, turned the bend, and ran for the forest. The other nudists continued running, but I stopped at the edge of the woods. I grabbed Astrid's hand and pulled her toward me. We were both flushed and our bodies were glistening with sweat. Astrid's golden breasts were heaving up and down as she struggled to draw the hot, heavy air into her lungs. The warm, pungent aroma of her sex invaded my nostrils, driving out the moist smells of the woods. I put an arm around her waist and drew her body against mine. Our hearts were racing a thousand beats per minute. I lowered my face and pressed my lips against hers. I ground my erect cock into her belly as my tongue explored her hot mouth. We kissed for over two minutes as our hands explored each other's naked body.

"I want to fuck you so bad," I growled into her ear.

"I know," she panted. "I can feel it. I want it to. But we have to keep moving. That cop could be catching us any second now."

We put on our clothes and set out through the woods. Fifteen minutes later we reached the clearing where we both had parked.

"Do you have to go in to work?"

"I'm afraid so. I've used up too many sick days already."

"I understand."

"Are you going to stop by and see me tonight?"

"I'll try. I will certainly try."

"It would make my night go much faster if you were there."

"I'll see what I can do."

"I get off at two. You could walk me home. My apartment is just a few blocks away, and I don't think my roommates will be home."

"I'll do my best. I would love to see your apartment."

"I'm sure you would."

We kissed again and said our goodbyes. I wanted to stop by the Inn, but the truth of the matter was that it was a little out of my price range, especially after paying the rent earlier that week. Even with a free pitcher of beer, I couldn't afford to eat there; and if I ate, then I couldn't afford a bar tab. If I didn't open a bar tab, I wouldn't be able to hang out there all night. Face it, I'm fucked.

I contemplated my options on the drive home. My mind was telling me to watch my budget, stay home, and look for Astrid the following week. My heart and my dick were telling me to blow my budget and pursue the woman of my dreams. When my head, heart and dick were in conflict it was usually my heart telling me to be faithful, my dick telling me to pursue what was available, while my head performed a risk assessment before making the final decision. The alignment of my heart and dick against my head was a new dynamic.

Upon reaching the house, I found that one of my housemates scored a bag of weed and another had gone to the store to pick up a few cases of beer. Phone calls were going out in all directions. Friends were heading over to the house. Pizzas were ordered. Somebody fired up the grill and started burning some hot dogs and burgers. My situation was resolved: Party with the guys until after midnight, head over to the Village Inn around twelve thirty, escort Astrid back to her house where we would finish the night consummating our new friendship, then go to sleep with Astrid in my arms as the sun peeked over the horizon. Life can be good for a twenty-one year old student lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time.

Unfortunately, what is often said about best-laid plans is too often true. At least it was true one too many times with my "best-laid plans." A small crowd started trickling in a few minutes after six. By eight o'clock a call went out for more beer. Someone passed a hat around, and forty minutes later a car pulled up with seven more cases of beer. My stamina was diminished from running around naked for several hours in the hot afternoon sun, so after several beers and countless bong hits, I was down for the count much earlier than anticipated. I woke up the next morning on a lawn chair in the back yard. Someone was thoughtful enough to cover me with a blanket, but my face, arms and legs were still covered in mosquito bites.

I stumbled into the house and surveyed the carnage. Half a dozen people were sleeping on the sofa, in chairs, or amid the empty beer bottles and overflowing ashtrays strewn about the floor. I crawled up the stairs to my room. Opening the door, I found a rather messy-looking girl sleeping in my bed. Her clothes made a crumpled pile at the foot of the bed, and she smelled of sex, cigarette smoke and beer. I tried to wake her, but she just ducked her head under my pillow and pulled the sheet over her head. Fuck it, its my bed. I took off my clothes, climbed over the girl, and collapsed against the wall.

I awoke again a few hours later. The sun should have been high in the sky, but instead it was overcast and looked like rain was on its way. The naked girl was gone, but her clothes were still on the floor. Ten minutes later she returned, her body wrapped in one towel and another wrapped around her head like a turban. Both towels fell to the floor, and she crawled into bed with me.

My dick responded immediately. Whatever blood I still had in my body rushed toward my groin as my cock hardened. In a surprise development, however, my mind said "no." Get rid of this skank. Clean yourself up and get over to the quarry.

That's when reality hit me. I never made it to the Village Inn! I had totally blown off Astrid! As a result, I probably ruined any chance I had with her. Relax, it wasn't a firm date. I never said I would definitely be there. I tried to rationalize the situation, but the facts were inescapable. I never told her I would not stop by. She was expecting me. If she had any feelings for me, then I let her down. Fuck!

The naked girl backed her ass against my crotch and wiggled. Any other time I would have accepted the invitation and fucked her without a second thought. What I did next was totally out of character.