“Who won?”
“He did, usually. But only ’cause he’s more stubborn.”
“That’s the pot calling the kettle black.”
“I suppose. Did you see the crane? The bulldozer? And I think there’s a truck down there. An old-timey one, with a camper or something.”
“For real?”
“Uh-huh. Other things too, but I can’t tell what they are.”
“Why don’t you just dive down and check ’em out?” I suggested, only half joking.
“Paul, dear, it’s a hundred feet. I can only go fifty or sixty.” She grinned. “Besides, I have better things to do… up here.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?”
“I have needs, you know. Vitamin Penis. Hmm, maybe I’ll just say vitamin S. Yeah, that works. I need several doses, every day.”
“You already had one.”
“But I need more. Now, please.”
“Insistent little thing, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Besides, we can’t very well have sex in the lake back at camp. So we have to do it here. You know I love doing it in water.”
“And on land,” I teased, “at the beach, in the car…”
“I seem to recall someone else who likes doing it those places,” she said loftily. “Maybe next time we can bring a float or something. Ooh, I know! An air mattress.” Her eyes glowed with enthusiasm. “I love floating when I lay out, and my mind gets going sometimes. You know what I mean. So… um… it’d be nice to have a convenient boyfriend. Then I could ride you or suck you whenever I feel like it. Mmm, vitamin injections.”
I snorted a laugh. “Sounds like you’ve thought about this.”
“Oh my gosh, yes! All the time. Ever since you told me about the quarry. But even before. I used to float in Brooke’s pool and daydream about all the things I wanted to do with—” She stopped abruptly and turned thoughtful. Then she frowned.
“Uh-oh,” I said. “What’s the matter?”
“You. What you said.”
“About…?”
“That I didn’t sleep with you until we started talking marriage.” Her frown turned into a glare, but I knew her well enough to interpret it.
“I was right,” I laughed, “wasn’t I?”
“No,” she lied.
“Mmm hmm.”
“Well, that’s how I was brought up. Women only had sex with their husbands. And ‘good girls’ didn’t have sex with anyone.”
“Do you still believe that?”
“You know I don’t. Only, sometimes I do. Not for real, but when I’m not thinking. Maybe that’s why I was upset the other day, when we were unloading groceries. My mom doesn’t want me to be like her. She wants the opposite, in fact. She wants me to have choices she never had.”
I nodded.
“So… I guess maybe I was feeling guilty. About what I want. What we want. Not the house and careers, but the other stuff, the sex stuff. And just now, when I was talking about daydreaming. I almost said ‘husband,’ like I could only have sex with one person, ever.”
My eyebrows rose with a question.
“No,” she answered immediately, “I’m not thinking about sex with other men. I still don’t want to do that. But… maybe you were right. About me, I mean. Maybe I did only sleep with you ’cause we were talking about marriage. And… um… maybe that’s why I did it with Simon too.”
I let her work through it.
“You’re right about the other things, darn you. About me and sex, I mean. It makes sense when I stop and think about it. You probably think I’m crazy, though. I want to do all these perverted things—spanking and bondage and all my fantasies—but I won’t do something ‘simple’ like sex with another man.”
“Sex isn’t simple,” I said.
“You can say that again.”
“Sex isn’t simple.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled. “You really get me, don’t you? And I don’t mean my weird hangups and silly justifications. You understand. Like, you truly understand what’s going on in my head.”
“Not always,” I admitted, “but most of the time. You don’t always say what you mean—”
She snorted agreement.
“—but I can usually figure it out.”
“I’m glad you do. And… I think that’s why I’m so horny all the time. Yeah, my libido, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? It’s the way you make me feel. Like now. You aren’t doing anything special, but I wanna make love to you more than anything. And I don’t mean sex or fucking,” she added. “We can do that later.”
I nodded.
She glanced down and realized she’d sink if she stopped treading water. “Um… maybe we should go back to the shore first?”
“Yeah,” I laughed.
“I told you, I don’t float very well. Stupid density.”
“That’s okay. Once I can stand up, you won’t have to.”
“I can float on your penis instead. And you can shoot me full of vitamins!”
“Yes, please.”
* * *
We eventually moved our little campsite to the top of the cliff, where we spread our blanket at the edge of the forest. We ate lunch and drank a bottle of wine, and Christy lay quietly until she dozed off.
I gave her another few minutes before I dug into my backpack and pulled out several lengths of rope. The tent stakes clanked against each other, but I’d wrapped them in a T-shirt that muffled the sound. I set them aside, along with my hammer and a few other things.
I spent a couple of minutes tying ropes to a pair of stout pine trees about eight feet apart. I tried a shoelace knot first, the only one I knew. It didn’t work, so I tried a couple of other loops. I couldn’t really call them “knots,” because knots were supposed to hold the rope instead of slipping or coming loose entirely. I eventually managed a tangle of knots and hitches that worked, but the Boy Scouts would’ve laughed me out of the troop.
“Note to self,” I muttered, “buy a damn book on knots.” I snorted a laugh when I imagined myself with a merit badge in Bondage and Discipline.
Christy was still sleeping lightly, so I knelt by her side. I covered her eyes with the T-shirt. She jerked awake, and I put my hand over her mouth before she could cry out.
“Well, looky here,” I said in my best redneck voice, “Sleeping Beauty.” I uncovered her mouth. “Scream if you want. No one will hear.”
“Who are you?” she asked instead. “Where’s Paul? What’ve you done with my boyfriend?”
“Him? Oh, he left. Went on a nature hike or somethin’.” I tied the T-shirt into a makeshift blindfold. “Don’t want you to see our faces. You might recognize us.”
“You’re from camp?” she said uncertainly.
“Yep. Been watchin’ you. And we thought we’d have a little fun while your boyfriend’s gone. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Hold on… ‘we’?”
“Yep. Me an’ my friends… um… Bo an’ Luke.” I cringed and hoped she wouldn’t laugh. Note to self, I added, write the script before you have to come up with something on the fly.
Still, Christy played along. “What’re you going to do?”
“Oh, we’ll think of somethin’. Start with this.” I lifted her to her knees and thrust my half-hard cock in her face. “Suck it.”
She hesitated a moment and then practically attacked me. I breathed a long, low sigh as her lips worked their magic.
“Enthusiastic little thing, ain’t she?” I said to my imaginary friends. “You want a turn, Bo?”
“Yeah, okay,” I said with a different redneck accent. I was overdoing it, but Christy didn’t care, especially when I “replaced” my dick with Bo’s.
She tried to swallow him whole, the lucky bastard.