"The power of the wind" by GrandMoff
Author's note: This story is intended to be entertainment for adults. It has explicit sex between women. It also has vulgar/profane language. Please do not read it if you are underage.
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My step-dad had died in an accident in the coal mine where he worked. My mom and I had taken it hard. She'd hit the pills and I'd hit the booze. I'd gotten treatment early enough to graduate high school with my class. Mom had gone into treatment later than I had. I was in my second year of college before she got sober, and she sometimes relapsed for the next year or two.
In college, I studied a lot of things, including engineering and energy production.
The more I learned, the more I said, "Fuck fossil fuels."
I helped conduct studies on wind and solar energy during my graduate years. I saw how those fossil fuel companies fought the facts every way they could: buying scientists, using pseudo-science and anecdotal evidence, lobbying lawmakers, and outright lying.
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I got hired a month before I earned my masters' degree. As soon as the graduation ceremony was finished, I got on a plane to the company's headquarters in Minneapolis. I was a wind farm planner with AEoTurbo Technologies. My mother was proud of me, although she hated to hear that my career was going to keep me traveling all around the country.
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The day before my 25th birthday, I sat on my hotel bed, flipping through channels. Nothing really on--but I didn't have the energy to quickly check out Kansas City, although it was only a dozen miles away. This day had started at 5:45 this morning, and I'd had to do a lot of driving and talking to locals and walking through fields, most of it under the heat of the merciless July sun. Tomorrow was going to start at 6:00 a.m.; a lot of these people were farmers, and they wanted to talk early in the day.
I loved this job sometimes, but sometimes I hated it.
Now here I was, another night by myself in some strange room and strange bed. I felt like turning 25 was kind of significant, but it was going to pass with nothing special happening. I'd call my mom and a couple of my friends, but no one would celebrate with me in the flesh.
Rising wearily from the springy mattress, I stretched, trying to loosen the muscles of my 5'7" body. I'd gotten sweaty; I wanted a shower before bed. Thanks to the wind, my short dyed-red hair had gotten plenty of dust in it. Hell if I was going to try to sleep with gritty hair.
The super-annoying blare of the room phone startled me and I stubbed my toe on the mini-fridge that sat next to the bathroom door. "Mother fuck it!" I hissed, but I hopped to my bedside and answered the phone.
"Chris Silvers?" squawked the voice on the other end.
"Yeah, who's this?" I said, not bothering to disguise the irritation I was feeling.
"I'm the P.R. specialist who's supposed to meet you; my name's Gwendolyn Mixon."
"Oh, I'm glad you're here. Do you have the materials you need to help me at tomorrow's meetings?"
"I'm not sure; the company didn't give me much notice; they sent me here in a rush. Could you meet me in the lobby near the call desk?"
"Gimme 20 minutes."
"Sure!"
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I rushed my shower a bit, ran a comb through my hair, and took the elevator to the lobby. There was a fresh-faced young woman with platinum blonde hair in two thin braids waiting for me. She looked like she was straight out of school--I almost groaned. Was I going to have to teach her her job before she was effective? I told myself to cut that out: judging by appearance was something I hated. She was going to get a chance in less than 12 hours to show what she could do. I was going to treat her like any other colleague.
"I'm Gwendolyn," she said, taking the hand I offered and giving it one brief, light shake. "Your hair looks wet; I didn't interrupt you, did I?"
"Don't worry about it," I said. "Would you show me what materials the company sent with you?"
She looked flustered. "I left the stuff in my room; there's nowhere to set up here."
"That makes sense--but then, why did you want to meet me now?"
"To let you know I'm here, I guess." The blonde woman (the girl, really) fidgeted, playing with the end of her belt nervously. "We're going to be working as a team tomorrow. I hoped to get started on the right foot."
Making a long day longer, I thought. I forced a smile. "Today was kind of exhausting, Miss Mixon. What do you say we meet at your room at 6:00 tomorrow morning to go over our approach and our supporting facts?" And I'll be getting up at 5:30, I added silently and grimly.
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At 5:59, I rapped on the P.R. woman's door. She opened it so quickly that I knew she'd been standing at the ready. I felt ready myself: I'd gotten a restful night of sleep. "Good morning," I said, stepping into Miss Mixon's room.
"Good morning," she said. She scurried to her laptop. "Let me show you what I have."
After about 20 minutes, we'd divided our responsibilities for the meetings. Then we hit the road.
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It was not long before noon, and my stomach was growling. "These early mornings make me hungry. What do you say, Miss Mixon?" I asked, as I drove the company car (it was a hybrid) and my new assistant/partner navigated.
"That sounds all right," she said. "Do you have to call me 'Miss Mixon'?"
I glanced at her. She didn't look angry--in fact, she was smiling at me--but she had her arms folded in front of her. Her chest looked small even with her arms crossed like that; she reminded me more of a high school freshman than a college graduate. "What do your friends call you?" I asked her.
"'Gwen'," she said.
"Can I call you that until I think of something better?" I said.
She turned all her attention to me. "What do you mean?" she asked. Her eyebrows lowered a little in confusion or suspicion.
I said, "You don't look like a 'Gwen,' and it's too plain anyway. When I learn more about you, I'll come up with something descriptive to call you."
She huffed, but I could see she wasn't serious. "I think 'Gwen' is just fine!" she said.
Would messing with this woman be fun? "It is fine, but it's not you," I told her. "What college did you go to?"
"U of Cincinnati."
"They're the Bear-cats, aren't they? 'Bear-cat' Mixon--that's no good."
Gwen turned her eyes back to the road ahead of us. "When I was assigned to come here and help you sell communities on wind farms, no one said anything about this." She stretched back in her seat. In that posture, her thin legs--bare from mid-thigh thanks to her short but fairly conservative black skirt--looked very long.
"'Legs' Mixon," I said mischievously.
She turned pink. Eyes wide, she spun to look at me again. "Don't even think about calling me that!" she said, her voice rising an octave.
"Give it a chance, Legs; it'll grow on you."
She was scowling now. Her eyes were darting back and forth. I could tell she was trying hard to think of a retort.
Why would I give her time to do that? I quickly changed the subject on her. "There are a few places we could go for lunch. What are you in the mood to have?"
My ruse didn't distract my companion, but she and I didn't know each other well. She wasn't sure whether she should let the nickname issue drop. "For lunch, sandwiches are good: a plain old Subway or Jimmy Johns'll do for me. And we can continue our discussion while we eat," she said pointedly.
"A sandwich place? Cool: I'm sure you've noticed our company isn't especially generous with per diem expenses."
Gwen (or Legs) said, "I've never traveled for work before. What's per diem for us?"
I wasn't surprised that she didn't know; this had to be her first job after college. Well, she would be learning at a terrific rate for the next few months. I hoped she wouldn't have to learn too many things the hard way.
Just as I was telling her about our daily allowances, she spotted a sandwich shop.
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While we had our midday meal, I told Gwen what I thought had worked and what could have been better at our morning meetings. She told me her views. She tried to apologize for my having to answer a couple of questions that she hadn't been prepared for, but I waved her off. "It's your first day!" I said. "Don't worry, you've been doing a great job. Honestly, I was worried that I would be doing all the talking today. You've done wonderfully, and next time you'll be more ready for those concerns about 'flight paths of migratory birds.' We shouldn't have to address that anyway, of course. Those good old petroleum and coal corporations love spreading rumors."
Gwen looked thoughtful. "You're an engineer, but you knew how to talk about environmental impact. Is that why you're trying to spread wind energy? Is it environmental?"
"For me...it's more personal than that. I do care about the environment--a lot, actually. But I'm not a fan of those fossil fuel giants. No consciences.
"What about you, Legs?"
No one was close to our table, but Gwen went pink again. She glanced around to see if anyone had heard. "Don't call me that!" she whispered loudly, kicking my ankle softly as a warning.
I winked at her. What was it about this young woman? I didn't normally tease people. Hell, I didn't normally talk much, even to coworkers I'd known for years. I felt like a chatterbox in her presence! Was it her youth, her energy, the way she wanted to do everything right but sometimes got in her own way?
"Relax, no one heard," I assured her.
She glared at me an instant longer, but then she straightened up and answered my question. "For me, it is about the environment. I believe the science I've seen about global climate change. I want to help people make better decisions, and hopefully have better futures. I love Mother Earth; always have, since I Mom took me and my sister and brothers hiking in the Blue Ridges."
"That's admirable," I said to her. "Are you an outdoor type?"
"Oh, yeah!" she answered. "I still like hiking, plus canoeing and kayaking and I'd love to learn how to SCUBA dive. What about you, Chris?"
"It's been a while, but I like to walk in nature, too. I like spending time outdoors. I used to do a little bird-watching."
"I know what you mean," said my companion. "I don't think I could do the bird-watching thing; I have to be active when I'm outside."
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Our afternoon meeting with the county board went extremely well. They'd liked our internet presentation and they now agreed to grant us permits based on my site plans. The electrical utility, a cooperative, was amenable to our plans too. I was very satisfied with the progress we'd made.
We packed our stuff and got back on the road. I spoke to my colleague. "We've got stops in Butler and Marion counties tomorrow. Should we stay the night in Topeka and get going really early, or would you like to drive through to Wichita and do a little back-tracking?"
"You're the experienced one," she told me. "What do you think we should do?"
"Can you wake up at quarter to five?" I asked.
She made a face. "I'd rather not!" she said, seeming unaware that her expression had already told me everything.
"Then let's go to Wichita," I said.
She was busy checking her smart phone, however. "What about El Dorado?" she said. "It's kind of small, but it has hotels."
"Really?"
"Yeah, looks like three or four. And El Dorado's in Butler county, so we'll have less back-tracking to do."
I smiled. "Thank you. We should do that. I might have missed that opportunity if you hadn't been here. You did a great job with the Johnson county board. You've been a huge help."
"I made a couple of mistakes again," she said. "But I think I did better than this morning.
"Anyway, it was your topographic and geologic analyses that sealed the deal. Every concern they had, you had an answer. Back at the office, they told me you were good. You're not just good; you're a natural negotiator with training as an engineer. I'm surprised Mr. Schillingworth thought you needed me at all!"
"He was right. I'm a bad negotiator usually. You'll probably need to save us tomorrow."
"I don't believe that," she said, laughing lightly. "I'll just stay out of your way during the meetings!"
"Can I ask you a favor? After we get through Topeka, could you drive for a while?" I asked.
"No problem: I like driving," she answered.
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When Gwen did the driving, I was supposed to be navigating for her. However, we knew we were more than 100 miles from El Dorado after we'd left Topeka. My help wouldn't be needed for a while. I took out my tablet and started answering emails. Gwen and I engaged in light conversation every so often, but mostly I conducted business and she drove. She'd set up her MP3 player through the car's stereo when we'd switched driving duty, so I heard some of what was on her playlist. Most of it was stuff I hadn't heard before.
The drive went by fast, and when we got to within five miles of El Dorado, I put away the tablet and helped Gwen look for a decent place to spend the night. We found one quickly and it was probably $10 a night cheaper than it would have been in Wichita.
Once we checked into the hotel; we left our bags, found a Chinese restaurant, and had dinner. Once we got back, it was only about 7:30. I told Gwen we should meet at 6:30 in the lobby. Then we went our separate ways.
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It was about 9:00 and I was watching a rerun of Monty Python's Flying Circus when there was a knock and someone cheerily announcing, "Room service!"
I hadn't ordered anything.
My first thought was to quietly call the front desk and ask for security. Wouldn't that be overreacting? The person at the door had most likely made an honest mistake.
"Miss Silvers, room service delivery for you," called the voice while I hesitated.
Just as there are fanatics who hate fossil fuels and sometimes use violence or threats to express their opposition, so there are fanatics who hate alternative energy sources and use violence. I'm not paranoid, but I take care of myself. I slipped my taser into my jacket pocket and looked through the peephole. "I didn't order anything," I said through the door.
"Yes, Miss Silvers; the order came from room 232."
That was Gwen's room, and the girl at the door looked like hotel staff. I opened the door.
"Here you are!" chirped the young lady, holding a smallish rectangular red box with white ribbon trim.
"Thanks," I said. "How much did it cost?"
"Oh, the tip's been taken care of. Have a nice night, Miss Silvers!"
Inside the box was a very large piece of five-layered chocolate cake.
I went to room 232, box in hand. Gwen opened for me as soon as I knocked. "What's this?" I said.
"It's this!" she said, holding up her smartphone for me to see. The monthly company newsletter was displayed. She'd found the Birthdays section and she'd spotted my name.
"Why didn't you tell me it was your birthday?" she asked.
"Because we had work to do," I answered.
"Yeah, but the work's over for today. Now, with the little time we have left, let's do something for you. Happy Birthday! Let's go to the bar and have a drink to celebrate your day."
"I don't drink anymore. I was never an alcoholic, but I did drink too much as a teenager."
"Oh, that's fine," said Gwen. "But we should at least relax a bit. What about going to the hot tub?"
"Hot tubs are nasty!" I said. "They're the perfect temperature for breeding bacteria."
"Really?" said the young blonde woman. "I didn't know that. How about the sauna, then?"
"Are saunas relaxing?"
"Yeah, they're great! Come on, let's try it."
As I was about to agree, I thought of something. "I've never been in a sauna. What do we wear, swimsuits?"
"That or underwear. You can wrap up in a towel if you want."
We split up to get ready and met at her room.
(We were both wearing shower shoes when met. I hadn't known how much her platform shoes had exaggerated her height. I'm only average height myself, but she was three or four inches shorter than I was.)
When we went down the long hall and past the pool to the little suite of rooms at the far end, we discovered that there were towels provided. Gwen had expected that. There was an exercise room across from the sauna. It was empty except for a couple of middle-aged women using treadmills and chatting while they watched Lifetime. My companion grabbed three towels.
"Why do you need so many?" I asked.
"You'll need at least one to sit on," she explained. "There are going to be hardwood benches in there, but they're going to feel really hot at first." She entered the little room and I was right behind her. She looked around and found a dial. Once she'd adjusted it, (I guessed the dial was the temperature switch) she folded one of the towels and put it on a bench. Then she lay another on the bench above it and let it hang from the edge. I figured that was so she could lean back.
I copied all her actions.
Then she took off her robe, set it next to her, and sat on the towel-covered bench. She was wearing a basic pale orange two-piece bathing suit. It had hibiscus flowers printed on it. The little halter-top bikini emphasized her long legs and made her narrow hips appear a bit wider than they were.
I hadn't brought a bathing suit. I felt reluctant to take off my robe, knowing what I had under it. But then I told myself to quit being silly; Gwen wasn't going to judge me by what I wore in a sauna! I put aside the robe. Wearing my grey cotton sports bra-and-boy-shorts-set, I sat on my bench.
"It's going to get really hot and humid now!" Gwen said. "Relax your muscles. Let yourself sweat out the tension."
That sounded like good advice. I sat back, closed my eyes, let my arms and legs dangle, and concentrated on slowing my breathing. "How long does the company want you to travel with me?" I asked.
"Until you're finished with this 'goodwill tour,' I think," she said. "They want me to be a representative to shareholders and venture capitalists eventually. My boss said I'd learn a lot on this trip, trying to convince natives that we've got a great plan for the future and they should be a part of it."
"This trip's not going to be finished for three weeks," I said. "Do you think you'll be able to stick through the whole thing? The workdays can be really long."
She said, "I'm up for it."
"Nice spirit!" I said, smiling in her direction. "It's been said that 90% of success is showing up. You've got drive, Legs; you'll be successful."
Now she'd yell at me, of course. I smirked and waited to hear her rebuke.
Instead, I heard nothing at all.
Wondering what had happened, I opened my eyes.
I gasped. Gwen was standing right above me, her nose less than an inch from mine. Her cheeks were slightly flushed. I got a great look at her eyes. They were a fascinating deep clear blue, like sapphire. "I'll shut that smart mouth of yours," she whispered. She struck like a cobra, stealing a kiss from my open lips.
She smugly stared into my wide eyes. "I don't just take it; I dish it out!" she said.
Interesting! I had to see what would happen next. "Sure you do, Legs," I murmured.
Only a moment's hesitation and she kissed me again. This time, I kissed back. Her eyelids drew closer together, but she seemed determined to test my resolve, even as I was testing hers.
Her skin glistened with sweat. The smell of her perspiration mixed with the scent of her perfume. The light of defiance flashed from her eyes.
My heart thumped. "Legs! Legs, Legs, Legs, Legs, Legs, Legs, Le--"
Her knees were on either side of my thighs. She sank lower and sat on my lap. She cut off my chanting with a long French kiss that made the sauna seem cool by comparison. I closed my eyes again and enjoyed the delicate, satisfying touch of her soft lips and slippery tongue.
When she drew back, we were both breathing heavily. She must have seen the growing affection in my eyes. "You feel it too?" she said quietly.
"I do now," I told her. "I'll have to find another nickname for you, though, since you seem to have a strange reaction to 'Legs.'"
She stuck out her tongue at me. "You're going to be trouble, I can tell." She returned to her bench and leaned back. "We're supposed to be relaxing: letting go of tension. Remember?"
"Sure, let's do that," I said, also sitting back. "Once we're done here, let's go up to your room and split that huge piece of birthday cake."
"That sounds good," said Gwen.
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We chatted quietly for the next 45 minutes or so. Finally, I told her I was getting cooked. Gwen yawned and stretched and turned the temperature dial lower. She gave me a helping hand and we left the sauna. I did feel different--a bit more relaxed, but also cleaner somehow.
We went back to Gwen's room and had the cake. Then I said, "You've got some frosting on your upper lip, Legs." I leaned over to her and kissed her and she kissed back gently.
Then she pulled away from me. "We'd better get some sleep, okay?" she said.
I was surprised, and the tiniest bit hurt. "You're right. We've got another long day ahead of us tomorrow."
"It's Friday tomorrow," she said. "We don't normally have meetings on Saturdays or Sundays, do we?"
"Not normally," I answered.
"Good!" Gwen darted forward and gave me a squeeze and a peck on the lips. "Good night, Chris."
Already, I was trying to figure out why she was dismissing me. Not one to overstay my welcome, I rose to my feet. "Good night, Legs," I said to her.
She smiled and kissed me once more. Then I left her room, closing the door behind me.
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The meeting with the Butler county council had gone well. After that, we'd packed up, driven a few miles, and kept our appointment with the Marion county zoning board. They were pretty skeptical of us, but thanks to my slides illustrating the proposed locations of the generators, they agreed to let us show our plan to the supervisor and the county clerk via internet meeting.
When we packed up again, Gwen volunteered to drive to Dodge City. I took her up on her offer.
Once we got on the road, she asked about the next stop on our route. "How long do you think we'll be discussing our wind farms there?"
"Not long at all. We've already gotten permission to build in the county. All we're doing there is talking to a couple of contractors and a transportation manager who's going to okay the convoys for the largest parts of our machines."
"Maybe only an hour?" she asked.
"Well, probably a little longer than that. 90 minutes to two hours, I think," I said. "Good job explaining our environmental precautions to the Marion board, by the way. If you hadn't told them how we were going to protect their local streams from construction contamination, they probably would have turned us down flat."
"I just built on the proposal you'd already shown them," said my blonde companion. "But I'm glad to be the Harley to your Ivy."
"The who to my who?"
She glanced at me, looking a little disappointed. "The Harley Quinn to your Poison Ivy. No? Okay...how about...the Gabrielle to your Xena?"
"Oh. Nice!" I patted her knee. "I'm the warrior princess--I like it."
She blushed, but she grinned at me. "You and me protecting our beloved land from all foes, and having a good time doing it."
There was the ring of truth in what she'd said. A couple of days ago, I'd been doing this job by myself. I had been doing well, but it had been a daily grind. There were very few happy moments. "You're right. We are having a good time. I'm glad you're here, Legs."
She pouted at me. "No fair saying that while I can't do anything about it. I owe you one."
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After we conducted our official business in Dodge City, we found a hotel on the northern edge of town. Our rooms were next to each other this time. We stowed our belongings and found a small Italian restaurant. They had good pasta and seafood. We discussed the next part of our journey.
"That's right; we have tomorrow and Sunday off," I said. "We don't always get both days of the weekend free, sad to say. But we can take our time going through Kansas; our next meeting is in Kearney, Nebraska, at 6:30 Monday morning."
"Good, that's about what I expected," said Gwen. "What do you say we leave at 9:30 tomorrow and go North? I'll drive for the first half of the trip."
"Sure," I said. "You sound as though you've got something planned."
"Kind of--there's something I'd like you to experience," she told me.
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When we got back to the hotel, I invited her to my room. For a couple of hours, we talked and watched a little tv and flirted and we shared several nice kisses. But when I told her I was going to get ready for bed, she got up and headed for the door.
"Mix signals much?" I said, trying to make it sound like I was joking.
To my surprise, she looked a little ashamed. "I'm not trying to frustrate you," she said. "I just--I don't know you very well yet. You don't know me very well. I don't think we should sleep together so soon."
"I get it," I said. "Can I have a goodnight hug, then?"
She smiled sheepishly. "You definitely can!" She put her arms around me. I couldn't resist; I lifted her off her feet for just a second. She was short and thin, so it was easy to pick her up. She gave me a sweet kiss and wished me a good night.
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In the late morning, we drove along Highway 283. We had more than 200 miles to drive, but there was no hurry at all. As the miles passed, I learned more and more about my new partner, and she learned more about me.
She took an unexpected right turn just before noon. "I found a fun-looking destination when I searched the net last night. We're going to Cedar Bluff Reservoir," she said. "There's a spot where we can rent a canoe, if that's okay with you."
"I'll give it an even chance," I told her.
We changed into shorts and t-shirts (a tank top in Gwen's case) in the beach house. We got back in the car and drove a little farther to the rental building.
"I'd probably better sit in the back, so I can keep an eye on how you're doing," my petite companion said. We slid our canoe into the water and she towed it behind us to the end of the pier. She held the canoe steady and told me how to climb into it. Then she asked me to do my best to hold it steady and she hopped in behind me. She shoved us away from the edge of the wooden pier and we were gliding on the somewhat wavy surface of the lake.
With Gwen's direction, I got the hang of how to grip my paddle, how to use it so I wouldn't tire myself too much, and when to switch to the other side to keep the canoe straight. I'd been worried that my life preserver would make it tough to row, but it wasn't an issue; the reflective yellow vest left my arms free. Gwen and I paddled, enjoying the strong southwesterly breeze, leaving the landing area and the beach behind us.
Gwen found a little cove where the cattails grew high around us. She turned our canoe and we saw most of the reservoir lying beyond us. On either side, rolling prairies stretched away to the horizons. An endless procession of cottonball clouds swept across the blue sky above our heads.
The canoe swayed just a little. Then I felt Gwen's chin resting on my shoulder. She really was experienced in a boat; I hadn't noticed her moving and now she was kneeling behind me! "It's a good spot for a bird watcher," she whispered. She pointed to the clumps of marsh grass and reeds to our left. As we observed, we saw a couple of coots fly from the concealment of the plants. Only a few seconds later, a mallard descended toward the same area. Wood ducks wheeled low in the sky, not far past the reedy spot.
"Kind of a beautiful scene, isn't it?" I murmured.
"Yes, it is," said the young blonde. "I love wooded mountains; I love jungles; I love the desert highlands of New Mexico and Arizona, the rocky coastline of Lake Superior, the many falls and rapids of the Columbia and the Mississippi....This is why I do what I do, Chris. Nature is so lovely in all its forms. It's so delicate. I want to lower the chances of another BP Gulf spill."
"I can see what you mean," I said.
With her arms around my ribs, I sat and contentedly watched the Kansas wildlife.
Finally, I spoke again. "Thanks for showing me this, Legs," I said quietly.
"That's not all; let me show you a trick, too," she said. I turned and watched her. She picked up her paddle and smoothly pushed it straight down into the water of the little cove. "There's the bottom; I can feel it. Now, I slide my hand down, keep it there, and retrieve the paddle." She pulled it back into the canoe and held it between us. "What do you think, about four feet deep?"
"Or a little l--ah!"
I was going to say "less," but as soon as I opened my mouth to answer, she grabbed both sides of the canoe and rocked violently. She capsized us in the blink of an eye.
Sputtering, I surfaced next to the canoe. Gwen was right there, standing solidly behind me, her wet body pressed into mine. She put her hands around my torso.
"This is a good position," she purred.
The note in her voice was so suggestive that I was rooted to the mucky lake bed. She unzipped my vest and tossed it aside. She wrapped her arms around my waist and began kissing my neck. Her left hand wandered upward and started playing with my grapefruit-sized breasts, squeezing and fondling the jiggly flesh through the thin cotton of my soaked shirt and bra. Her right hand slipped along my belly, burrowed under my shorts and panties, and began to pet the sensitive skin of my labia.
Armpit-deep in cool, clear lake water, I put my hand on the hull of our canoe to keep from losing my balance. I tried to turn to kiss Gwen, but she shifted to stay behind me. A stab of fiery ecstasy rushed through my loins and I decided to let her do what she wanted to do. For now, at least....
"Nothing can be more right than this," said Gwen. "A natural act in a natural setting--a beautiful woman in a beautiful place."
I'm certainly not model-material. I didn't think of myself as pretty, let alone beautiful. But I felt beautiful when she spoke the words; I felt beautiful and desirable and womanly while she made love to me under the endless blue sky. She giggled into my ear and I shivered from head to foot. She kissed my neck and shoulders. Her talented fingers stroked my needy vaginal lips and my stiffening nipples.
"Oh fuck. Yes! Fuck, Legs, you're so--fuck! Legs, baby--yes," I groaned. If we'd been on dry land, my panties would have been just as wet as they were now. She skillfully manipulated my pleasure spots. My eyes rolled and my knees buckled. My vulvae twitched happily. Gwen kept my head above water while I climaxed. Her wonderful fingertips kept toying with my sensitive button until the orgasm subsided a little.
"Never--" I said. "--Never felt so good. Legs, you're incredible."
She finally swam around to face me. She put her arms around my neck and kissed me deeply. I rallied my strength and kissed her in return.
And then my motions ground to a halt.
"What's the matter, Chris?" The concern in Gwen's high voice was genuine.
"It wasn't fair to let you do that," I confessed. "I haven't had sex...since senior year of high school."
She didn't laugh at me. I'll be eternally grateful to her for that. Instead, she shifted her position; she kept her arms around my neck, but only loosely, making a few more centimeters of space between us. "There are so many things I want to tell you and ask you all at once," she told me. "So let me tell you the most important thing: I wasn't giving to get. You don't owe me anything. Okay?"
I nodded. She leaned forward and kissed me, then drew back immediately.
"I really like you, Chris. Do you like me?"
"I really, really, really like you, Legs," I said. She gave me another very quick kiss. I leaned in and stole one quickly from her.
She said, "You can be a little prickly and mean, but you're a sweetie under it all. Help me tip the canoe right-side up and drain most of the water from it, okay?"
"No problem, just tell me what to do."
In a minute, we had the canoe floating correctly. Gwen flopped my life vest over the edge of the hull, near my seat. Then she took off her vest and put it near her seat.
"What's it take for sex to be good, as far as you're concerned?" the little blonde woman asked. She pulled off her shirt.
"That's hard to define," I told her. She kept undressing while we talked. I was impressed with how gracefully she stripped out of her sporty running shorts. "I liked it when I made my girlfriend cum, and when she made me cum, of course."
Gwen's motions told me she was taking off her panties. Sure enough, a tiny tangle of sopping wet black cloth appeared in her hand after a moment. She tossed that in the canoe too. "Have you ever felt really good, even if you didn't cum?"
"Oh, yeah," I answered. Gwen put her hands behind her back and fiddled with her bra clasp.
"So have I." Gwen dropped her bra into the canoe. The water was clear enough that I could see her small, pale, pretty breasts bobbing a few centimeters below the waterline. "No pressure--are you up for trying to make me feel really good?"
My response was the most passionate kiss I'd ever given anyone.
Her slim, powerful legs clamped around my torso, just above my hips. She took her mouth from mine. "Let's see if you can make me feel good, sweetie. Put your hands on my butt. Yeah, squeeze me a little, but not to hard. Oh, that's good. Kiss my neck now. Yeah. That's nice. Can you get one of your hands farther under me? Can you reach all the way to my pussy? Ooh! You can! Stroke me a little with that hand. You can get rougher with my butt now.
"Yes. That's good. Oh, that feels nice." While Gwen directed my hands, I kissed and nibbled up and down her neck, going as high as her jaw, going as low as her collarbone. Her legs gripped me a bit harder. My pulse quickened. I could do this; I could give this little blonde firecracker plenty of pleasure. She seemed to really like how I was touching her. If I was lucky, I might even get her off.
"...Let's see if you can get your middle finger inside me. Slide it a little lower--yeah, there. Okay, now you don't need to push that hard; just wiggle it side-to-side. Yeah, now push a little while you're doing that. Oh! Feel that? You're getting it! That's great, sweetie. Good, if you can swirl that finger around now--yes! That's great! Can you slide anoth--yeah--oh!"
Gwen's hips had started to rock with tiny motions when I'd started teasing her labia. She was getting more and more active. Her hips were jerking rapidly now. I had two fingers inside her snatch, wriggling and thrusting. My knuckles kept smacking against her outer lips: probably right under her clitoris, I hoped.
"Keep going. Keep doing that. Feels so good! Keep going. Yes, yes, like that. Just like that! Yes, do it. Do it! Yes, like that! Like that! So good--like that!"
My hand was cramping a little. My wrist was aching. That didn't matter at all; my new lover had to be getting close to orgasm.
Her arms and legs squeezed me fiercely. "Like that, like that, like that like that like that, yes...." she whimpered.
-+-+-
After some very satisfying sex and a refreshing skinny-dip, Gwen and I made out next to the canoe for a long while. Finally, I suggested that we should think about going back to the rental place. While we began to dress, I said, "I won't call you 'Legs' except when we're alone together. Can I call you 'P.R.' instead?"
"Not very creative," she jibed.
"How about the long form then, Pocket Rocket?" I asked.
She slugged my bicep playfully. "You love teasing me, don't you?" she complained. "Here, hold the prow of the canoe like this. I'm going to get into it; watch how I do. You're going to get in after me."
Once we were both in the little craft, life vests properly worn and fastened, we took our paddles and began rowing.
"So..." said Gwen after a minute or two, "...what do you think of canoeing?"
-+ The End +-
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