It’s hot as hell on this exposed slope, and there’s an ice blue lake at the bottom of the basin. I can practically feel it from here, and it’s been a long, sweaty few days.
I wanted to before. But the first lake was kind of mucky, and I felt like the Boy Scout troop a few hundred yards down the shore would like it a bit too much for my comfort. I’m all for being admired, but not by teens.
The second lake was popular with people in suits. I had one, and I wore it, but it wasn’t quite hot enough to want to go in more than knee deep. I did a lot of splashing, but it’s not the same. And now I was on my way home.
So this one, one that’s a steep quarter mile from the main trail, that I’d be hitting right around one, was my last real chance. Plus I needed to refill my water. Two birds, yeah?
I left my bag near the top of the spur. Carrying only what I needed, I switched back and forth, down and down to this glorious ultramarine lake. A perfect sandy beach revealed itself… to have people on it.
Damn.
Now, I don’t mind being admired, we’ve covered that, but I also don’t like assuming, or making other people uncomfortable. I wasn’t about to get my Jean shorts wet, they take way too long to dry, but the rest of my clothes were all quick dry, even in the thin mountain sunshine. I figured as long as I didn’t get too close, we could all preserve a fiction of modesty.
Close to shore, the water was lovely. Cool, clear, and my favorite: free of mud or weeds. Wading in deeper I realized I’d need to go quickly or I’d not go in at all.
When you’re hot and sweaty, and you’ve been hot and sweaty for days, water this cold is a boon from the gods. It took my breath away and plunged me into sharp focus. It was delicious, and I immediately got out again.
From the woman on shore, with laughter in her voice, came “how is it?”
“Not… too… bad… whew!” Trying to speak and catch my breath at the same time must have been charming, because they both laughed then.
“It’s a good day for a swim. We’re looking forward to it!”
“It’s just barely not so cold you can’t call it refreshing, but it is NOT warm.” I laughed back, acutely aware that, wet, my white tee and pink bra were not much different than being naked altogether.
I spread out my towel and laid in the sun to dry, knees wide to make sure that even the creases between my thighs got proper sun. Such glorious moments don’t come often, and my mind drifted as I slowly got warm again.
Splashing from the lake.
I look to the sound and what do I see but a pair of figures, wading in where I was a half hour before, wearing not a stitch!
How annoying! I worried I’d make them uncomfortable with my nakedness and missed my last chance to swim in my birthday suit, and for no reason!
Unless…
“Hey, folks, you don’t mind if I join you do you?”
“Yeah, it’s fine, we don’t mind. Right my love?”
“Of course not! It’s the best!”
You don’t have to tell me twice. It feels a little awkward to be casually naked with strangers in public, but at least I know I look good naked, and it’s only weird if you make it weird. Right?
This time, determined to make the most of my one and only chance to float naked in a crystal clear mountain lake, I actually did a short swim. Being hot within and cold without is a wild feeling, and one reason I love a sauna and a cold plunge. Feeling weightless, breasts gently floating, taking the weight off my shoulders, I lie back near the shore where it’s not *quite* so cold.
After only a minute or two, we’re all wading out, and I can’t help a peek. She’s luscious. Strong thighs, full breasts, and a lovely curve at the waist. He’s strong, too, a little softness around the edges telling me he’s probably fun to hang out with, and… well good for her. Despite the frigid water he is hanging well.
“I know, right?”
“Oh, um, sorry, just…” she caught me looking at him, and though my cheeks are burning, I’m smiling, because she’s got the most wicked grin. Suddenly bold, heart pounding, I spit out “you two are beautiful.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
A series of looks pass between the three of us. Appreciation, questions, answers, invitations.
“Would you like to join us on our blanket?”
Would. I. Ever.
It turns out they’re locals, from Issaquah, and they’re just on a day hike. They’ve been up and down the cascades and came here today specifically to swim in this lake. We make small talk to fill the air while our eyes begin to devour each other. Hers have a special sparkle that makes me think I might get nibbled or spanked today, while his are relaxed, smiling, appreciating the rapport growing between his luscious wife and this giggly stranger.
A beat in the conversation and my eyes linger on her chest. With a look and a gesture, my words match my body language: “May I?” She nods, and I reach out my hand to make first contact.
Slowly, with just my fingertips, I trace the outside curve of her breast. “My god these are magnificent.”
I giggle, still a little nervous. Slowly I cup one in my hand, feeling the weight and the softness, and gently brush my thumb over her nipple. We’re warm in the sun, but my touch makes it hard, and draws an appreciative “mmhmm” from her lips.
“How do you like to be touched?” Not everyone knows the answer to this question, but I always ask. “This is a good start,” she replies. “Do more of that for a while.”
Soft mmhmms twine with bird song and gently lapping wavelets as my hands and my eyes explore more of her. My touch expands to trace along her collarbone, the side of her rib cage, and that perfect, generous, feminine curve at her waist. I can feel her relax into my touch and lean back onto the blanket, sun warmed, safe, ready for whatever comes next.
I love women. I don’t get my hands on nearly enough of us. We make me nervous and excited, special, different. We’re soft with surprising strength, capable of tremendous pleasure. We require tenderness, time, and focus to reach our full potential, and we are often asked to perform in the absence of those things. Having sex with another woman is a privilege and a pleasure, and I take my time when I can.
As she opens to my touch, I add my lips to the equation, and a little tongue. Nibbling with my lips around the underside of her breast, tiny toothy nips along the bottom of her rib cage, flicking my tongue over her nipple as my fingers gently tease and pinch the other. Her lips, her collar bone, the insides of her elbows, to the backs of her knees, my curious hands sweep, my soft lips shower kisses. I notice the softness of her thighs, the smell of healthy warm skin, her quiet sighs of relaxation and pleasure.
“Come here, my love” and she beckons him over. The two of them are unhurried, but clearly aroused, and he comes over to kneel next to her head where she can see and caress his cock.
She locks eyes with me, uses one finger to make a single, slow stroke over her clit, and tells me “I’d like you to kiss me here, while I kiss him here.” Without breaking eye contact, she turns her head and takes him deep into her mouth.
“Oh god” he moans, and I can’t help but grin. I love it when people make those noises, and watching two people who clearly know each other’s buttons push them, deliberately, with an eye to their audience, is a special treat, made all the better by our surroundings.
“I’ll do my best” I say, and so I do. I start slow, with soft, wet kisses on either side. Long strokes with a flat tongue, pressure, then release with my lips, sensation coming from just next to her clit, until after only a few moments, I land my best, softest, slickest kiss directly on her clit. I’m rewarded with a moan I can barely hear around the sounds of his cock slowly fucking her mouth. “Inside me” she manages, between strokes, and I oblige with first one, then two gentle fingers exploring the soft heat of her pussy.
The breeze tickles my back and tries to slip between my legs as nature continues to watch us, our moans and gasps and wet slick noises swallowed by the vastness of the North Cascades. I try to match the movement of my hands to the movement of her hips, rocking a little faster, a little faster, then not faster, only harder. I let her fuck my face as she lets him fuck hers as my fingers put pressure, alternately, inside on her G spot and then against the very outside of her pussy.
When was the last time you heard a woman come with a dick in her mouth? It is both the hottest and most hilarious thing I’ve ever heard, something animalistic in her hard, harsh cries that can’t be muffled, but also there is no escaping a little raspberry blowing when things are that wet, and that full. Being able to laugh during sex, and still find it sexy is such a joy, and collapsing into a happy giggling puddle *while in the post orgasmic bliss state* is something I appreciate and do fairly often.
“Oh my god I’m gonna need a sec” she laughs, “that was amazing!” He and I lay down on either side of her, appreciating her rosy flush and the break of the moment.
To be continued