markwildyr.com,
Post #119
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| Courtesy of PickPik |
Last
week, we left soccer player Rick Stinson arriving at Lake Manitou with his newly
discovered idol, Gordie Loesser, the team’s goalie. Taken by surprise at the
invitation to drive to the lake with Gordie, Rick is more or less at sea
(please pardon the mixed metaphors—you know, lake/sea). So what does happen.
Read on.
*****
BABE
Manitou Lake is a considerable
body of water for the southwest, but I guess it didn’t measure up compared to
those back east. Most of them were natural, Gordie told me.
“This one’s man-made,” he
said. “You can tell the difference because back home the trees come right down
to the water. These were cut away to make room for the lake. It’s pretty neat.
Don’t know where they came up with the name, though. Manitou’s a name the
Indians use back east.”
My mind wasn’t on the lake’s
name. “Shoulda brought our swimming trunks.”
He looked at me and grinned, almost
making me wet my pants. “Don’t need ‘em.” He grabbed a blanket from the back
seat and got out of the Explorer. “Come on.”
I followed him out of the
parking lot as he headed off down a faint trail. Pretty soon, I understood what
he meant. At the end of the path, the shoreline bent, making a little sheltered
cove. It was as if we’d been transported somewhere. We could faintly hear the
laughter and shouts of people in the main swimming area, but mostly it was
quiet and peaceful, filled with chirps of birds, the chatter of squirrels, and
the lush aroma of evergreens and wildflowers. A world of our own, so to speak.
He spread the blanket in a
grassy area, proceeded to kick off his sandals, shed his pullover, and wiggle
out of his shorts.. My eyes fixed on what he revealed. I’d seen him naked in
the locker room a hundred times after practice or following a game, but this
was different. You know, different!
“You coming?” he asked as he
turned and raced for the water.
I came out of my fog,
stripped, and splashed in after him.
We swam for half an hour or
so, going far out into the lake before turning and making our way back to the
shore. He morphed into a playful otter when we reached the shallows. Diving and
coming up between my legs and tumbling me over. Grabbing me around the waist
and throwing me up into the air. I seized the opportunity and tried to turn the
tables on him. He was bigger and stronger than I was, so I wasn’t as
successful, but I did cop a feel or two, mostly by accident. The last time he
tossed me up out of the water, I was afraid he’d seen the condition I was in.
When I surfaced, I called time and scanned his face. So far as I could tell he
hadn’t glimpsed my roaring erection.
Gordie splashed up onto the
shore. “Time for a rest, anyway,”
I about panicked. No way I
could get out of the water now. “In a minute, I said, turning my back on him
and swimming a little way out into the deeper water. By the time I got back, my
blood was behaving, not all pooling in one specific place. I was only a little swollen
when I marched up to him. His curious stare almost undid everything, but I fell
down on the blanket, water and all, in time to avert disaster.
Gordie flopped over on his
back and closed his eyes. “Time for a nap.”
Sitting upright beside him, I
took the opportunity to inventory his entire physique from head to toe. Good
grief! This guy was impressive. Perfectly formed. Not too big, but certainly
not too little. Except the groin area. All of that equipment looked pretty
impressive. I think I licked my lips. When my gaze moved up his body, I found
he’d opened his eyes. My cheeks flamed when I realized he’d caught me ogling his
nakedness.
“Do I pass muster?” he asked
in a low growl.
“I—I’m sorry. I just…. I don’t
know what—”
Embarrassed, I lay back and covered my eyes with a forearm. I heard him move beside me and
opened my eyes. He was sitting up, grinning at me.
“Turn about’s fair play.” With
that, he shifted his gaze to my torso.
I wanted to turn over, cover
myself with my hand, do something, but he forestalled me with one hand on my right
shoulder and another on my thigh.
“Oh, no. You got a good look.
Now so do I.”
I watched his face as his gaze
took in every inch of me. When his eyes moved back to my core, I couldn’t help
myself. I began to harden.
He grabbed my left wrist and
pinned it to the blanket when I tried to hide my genitals. That left him
leaning over me, our faces close. He lowered his head and covered my lips with
his, turning me into melted butter. My head buzzed so hard I barely heard him
when he lifted his head.
“You know, you are a babe.
Maybe I’ll start calling you that… but only when we’re, you know…alone.”
Then he covered me and took what he wanted. And
welcome to it!
*****
Please
don’t try to tell my you are surprised. Surprise was not the intent… something
more like titillation was the goal. Let me know how you liked the story.
I do
believe some more Curt Huntinghawk will come along next time. Hope you’re not
tired of him.
Tell your
friends to order a copy of Cut Hand and
Johnny Two-Guns from Dreamspinner Press. I’d like to
convince them to publish the rest of the Cut Hand Series, including the
unpublished manuscript Wastelakapi…
Beloved, It’ll take some help from readers to get Dreamspinner interested.
My contact
information is provided below in case anyone wants to drop me a line:
Website and blog: markwildyr.com
Email: markwildyr@aol.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/mark.wildyr
Twitter: @markwildyr
The
following are buy links for CUT HAND:
And now my mantra: Keep
on reading. Keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it!
Until next time.
Mark
New posts at 6:00 a.m. on the first and
third Thursday of each month.
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