"Here," she said, snapping out of her reverie and hastily taking off her robe, revealing a good figure of her own. A little heavy but firm for a woman of her age. Her small firm breasts gave an illusion of youth and boyishness. She stood naked, looking at Beth's body once more before saying, "That's no way to get soap out of your eyes. You've got to rinse them. Bent over that way all you're doing is getting more in your eyes. Stand up."
Something in the woman's voice, a warmth, an intimacy, made Beth obey and she straightened as the woman took in her breasts with a hungry look that narrowed her eyes and made her lips twitch. "Tilt your head back," she said, stepping back, her hands on her hips, checking the length of the stalls to see if anyone else had come in. Then, her head snapped back and she stepped closer, water spraying on her body in a fine mist, the nipples of her breasts tightening and becoming pointed. "That's it!" she said.
Her hands stroking her thighs, she watched Beth spread her legs, standing straddled and leaned back so that the overhead shower sprayed directly into her face. Her rib cage stuck out and lifted her full, globular breasts high and brazen as the woman stepped closer, her eyes half closed and her face set. Beth's pelvic bones jutted provocatively as she thrust her hips forward, unknowingly, toward the woman whose hands were held out toward Beth's groin.
The woman licked her lips and put her hands behind her as Beth straightened and blinked one eye. "You getting it?" she asked.
"I… I think so. I feel so stupid!"
The woman laughed. "Happens all the time. You haven't gotten it all out yet. I can see some on your other eye."
"Rats!" Beth said, rubbing her face.
"Lean back again," the woman said, stepping forward, "Here, let me help you." The woman put her hands around Beth's waist.
Beth blinked at the woman, stiffening a bit at her touch. The woman seemed pleasant and smiling. "Hi," she said, "it's about time we got introduced. "My name's Wilma Gans. You met my husband, Judd Gans? He's a foreman over on the Varner ranch and he runs this camp. Your name is Beth something or other."
"Carruthers," Beth said. "Nice to meet you, Wilma, even if I can't see you too well."
"Well, we sure will take care of that, honey, just you lean back and relax. You got Wilma here to hold you."
Beth smiled timidly, looking through one bleary eye with the other squeezed tightly shut. She seemed like such a good woman, one of the common people, the backbone of the country. Simple country folk. Hard working people who were used to a rough life and helping one an other. Wilma was good looking with the kind of wind-blown, sun-blasted, wide-open face of a western woman. She was probably used to ordering people around. She remembered her husband as a big man in western clothes with a silver buckle on his belt and a tanned face under a straw cowboy's hat and hard blue eyes. Simple hard working folk.
"Come on, honey, just you lean way back," Wilma said, stepping closer and spreading her legs for balance and gripping Beth tighter around her slim waist. It seemed as if Wilma's strong arms could fit all the way around her and join hands.
Beth smiled and said, "Okay." She leaned back and raised her hands to rub her eyes. The water poured into her face and she felt Wilma's grip around her waist tighten.
"Lean way back, now. Don't worry, I can hold you."
Beth leaned back with a smile on her lips and felt her thighs press against Wilma's. She was surprised by the firmness of her body as their hips were pressed together. She felt Wilma's grip shifting on the small of her back, Wilma seizing her wrist with the other hand and making a fist and then pulled Beth closer.
"Oh!" Beth said. It was only a small sound, one of wonder rather than surprise. She felt Wilma's firm body against hers. Their groins were pushed together and was it her imagination or was Wilma crushing her pubic hair into her loins? The hot water showering down on both of them, soaking their bodies, lulling Beth and making her think – for no reason at all – of the night when Bill had her bent helplessly back over the arm of the couch and… it felt so good!
"I… I think I'm fine now."
"No, not yet, you still got some in your eyebrows and a whole lot in your hair."
"I can see."
"Beth, honey, you stand up and that pretty long hair of yours will flop in your eyes and you'll be in it all over again. Ain't you ever washed your hair in camp showers before?" Wilma gripped her tighter in the hollow of her back, right above her glistening buttocks that were so taut and rounded.
"N-no," Beth said. Wilma was bending her further backwards, bending her knees and pressing her thighs and hips tight together. Especially the hips! Did Wilma realize what she was doing? The way Beth's legs were spread, her vaginal lips were spread slightly and she could feel the other woman's pubic hair tickling up and down the length of it.
"You a city girl?"
Beth nodded. She didn't want to talk. Wilma was just a good soul who probably put in a hard day's work and wasn't used to formality. Simple direct country manners. All she was doing, Beth told herself, was lending a helping hand. Yet, did she have to do it this way?
Beth raised her arms further and shook her wet hair while her breasts jiggled and shook provocatively in front of Wilma's hungry gaze. Wilma closed her eyes, her mouth open and fought for control before saying, "Not yet. Here, let me show you, here's the way we do it in a camp shower. Just you relax and trust old Wilma."
Beth tried her best to relax as she felt Wilma forcing her body to swing to the right. Her hands flew out and she blindly tried to grab Wilma for balance, her one hand seizing her breast and then flying away.
Wilma laughed. "Just you relax like I said, I'm just going to swing you back and forth under the shower, that's all."
Again, Beth tried to relax, her arms falling bad as she let Wilma swing her body and head back and forth under the shower. It felt so good and like being high in a tree and feeling the wind blowing the branches in a sleepy rhythm. She enjoyed the sensation and the feeling it made in the pit of her stomach. Her stomach! A warm lubricated feeling was flowing into her groin, filling her hips with pleasant tingling as she felt Wilma's pubic hair rubbing hard against her open vagina, making the soft membraned walls of her cunt tremble with a strange delight. And, with a catch of her breath, she realized that the tiny nub of her clitoris was free and being ground into Wilma's somewhat coarse pubic hair and the sensation was electrifying and… good. It was very good and growing better with each swing back and forth. Again, she found herself wondering if it was her imagination or was the camp boss' wife thrusting her own groin forward, grinding their hips tight together and causing her helplessly to thrill to the feeling now throbbing in her cant as Wilma's voice crooned over and over, "Thatta girl, that's right, nice and easy, just relax and let your body go limp and keep your head back. That's it, nice and easy, thatta girl, nice and easy we go."
Outside, the camp was still. No, there were shadows moving along one building. Soon, figures emerged. Young boys, no older than sixteen. One boy walked boldly toward the showers, the obvious and natural leader of the group. Just turned sixteen, he was slightly taller than the rest and had a freckled face and blonde hair and a little confident smile that made everyone remark that he looked just like his Dad, Lucas Lamont, the county sheriff. Lonny Lamont led his friends on their nightly ramble. They usually met in an arroyo outside the camp and waited for dark, smoking marijuana they got from a hippy commune nearby and made plans for the coming evening.
This particular night, none of them, including Lonny, had any money, so that canceled a trip ten miles down the highway to the local whorehouse. It was strictly a cash operation and Lonny knew he couldn't throw a scare into them through proclaiming he was the sheriff's son because his old man, Lucas, got paid handsomely each month for ignoring the operation. Besides, the bouncer there was a hard-nosed ex-fighter who didn't like Lonny ever since the night he had poured beer all over his head.