The Lake

Don’t worry, Charlie’s here.

Here? Out in the water.

Would he come and help if someone rushed out?

A quiet, crackling sound came from the slope. Leigh stopped. A tree was only a few steps ahead. Her eyes studied the dark woods, but nothing seemed to move. She wanted to glance back and see how far away Charlie was, but she didn’t dare. If she looked away, even for a moment…

What the hell am I doing here?

You’re trying to hang up Charlie’s jeans.

What am I doing here? My God. I swam out to this guy’s boat in the middle of the night and now I’m standing here bare-ass like some kind of maniac. I must be crazy. I should be back at the cabin asleep. I should be home in Marin, asleep. Jesus H. Christ on a rubber crutch, what am I doing here?

Trying to get laid by Charlie, that’s what.

Which he’s afraid to do because his mother wouldn’t like it.

And even if he was eager, you’re nuts to be going for it this way. You don’t even know him. He’s definitely a little weird.

Forgetting about the threat from the woods that had so unnerved her a few moments ago, Leigh stepped close to the tree. She reached up and draped Charlie’s jeans over its lowest branch.

She turned away and started back. Charlie was still in the lake. He looked as if he’d been cut off at the neck.

Leigh’s nightgown was a pale shape spread over the stern seat of the rowboat. She walked toward it.

She pictured herself putting it on.

Game’s over, Charlie, take me home.

He wouldn’t come out of the water without his jeans.

You could go back for them.

You could leave him here and walk back to the cabin. Just follow the shoreline, then make your way up to the dirt road.

Standing by the boat, she stared down at her nightgown.

Do it, she thought.

She bent over and picked up her nightgown. The breeze caught it, lifting and rippling its weightless fabric.

“What are you doing?” Charlie asked.

I don’t know, Leigh thought. God, I haven’t the slightest.

She pressed the nightgown to her front and held it there, covering herself.

You’re really going to call it quits?

It never should have gone this far. I was out of my mind.

She heard quiet sloshing sounds. “Leigh?” Charlie was wading closer, the black of the water dropping.

“What’re you doing?” he asked again.

“I think I’m ready to leave,” she said.

You think?

“What for? Don’t you like it here?”

“It’s awfully late,” she said.

Late. How lame.

Charlie stopped. He was bare to the waist. Just another step or two, Charlie. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“You mad at me?”

“No. It isn’t you.”

“You’re mad at me ’cause I left my pants on.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Well, they’re off now.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Leigh said.

She stared at the dark surface in front of him. Of course it doesn’t matter, she told herself. Oh sure.

“I should’ve took ’em off,” he said. “I knew I was s’posed to. I was just too yellow, that’s all. I’m awfully sorry. I wanted to, that’s for sure.”

“Charlie, we shouldn’t be like this.”

“I guess not. But I don’t want us to leave, though.” He waded out. He walked up the beach, hands crossed to cover his groin. “Cold,” he whispered.

Leigh draped her nightgown over the boat seat and went to him.

You were going to leave, she reminded herself. What are you doing?

Her heart thudded. Her mouth was dry. She met Charlie and put her arms around him. His wet skin felt cold. His arms went around her back. His open mouth found hers, and his tongue pushed in. She squirmed against him, moaning with the feel of his penis pressing thick and hard against her belly.

Where their bodies met, the chill went away. The skin of his back was still wet and cold. Her hands moved down to his buttocks. Charlie, following her lead, moved his hands down to her rump. They felt big and warm.

Soon, Leigh took her mouth away. Kissing the side of his neck, she reached behind and took his wrists. She eased away from him. She lifted his hands to her breasts, and trembled at their touch. His hands were callused but gentle. Leigh closed her eyes. She clung to his hips as he caressed her. The hands glided over her breasts, enclosed them, held them tenderly, tightened and squeezed, roamed them, exploring, then squeezed again.

“Kiss,” Leigh muttered.

He crouched. She held his shoulders, and he kissed her left nipple. His tongue thrust. Leigh moaned as he sucked the nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling and probing.

Fingers in his wet hair, she urged his head closer. Her breast felt engulfed.

He rubbed her thighs. His mouth went to her other breast, and his hands moved higher as he licked the nipple. Higher until his thumbs stroked the creases of her groin.

Leigh’s grip tightened on his hair. Charlie made sucking noises tugging at her nipple. His hands swept over her hips, around her buttocks, the backs of her legs, then up again, curling in and pressing. With a gasp, Leigh locked her knees to keep her legs from buckling. Her breast was drawn deep into his mouth. One of his hands went away and came to the front. Its edge pressed her vagina. She shuddered as it sawed back and forth, rubbing, opening her, sliding between her folds, slick and hot. His thumb rose into her.

“Charlie,” she gasped.

His mouth pulled away from her breast, leaving it wet and tingling. “Does it hurt?”

“Hurt? No. Dear God.” She hugged his head between her breasts. His thumb pushed and circled. His hand pressed hard, part of it rubbing her clitoris. She squirmed on it.

Then she released his head and squatted. Charlie sank to his knees, his thumb still inside her. He curled his other hand behind her neck to hold her steady. She reached between his legs. His penis felt huge. Her fingers enclosed it, slid down its length. She gently squeezed his scrotum, glided her palm up the underside of his shaft, then let herself fall backward onto the sand.

Charlie loomed over her, kneeling between her bent legs, holding himself up with stiff arms. Leigh stroked his sides. “In me,” she whispered. “I want you in me.”

“You sure?”

“My God.”

“I mean… you won’t get a baby?”

“It’s okay.” Probably, she thought. She had already counted. Her period was due in four days.

Charlie pressed down, his hips forcing her thighs even farther apart. She dug her heels into the sand, lifting herself to meet him.

His penis rubbed her. It moved slowly, spreading her, barely inside, sliding along her slit. Then it began to ease in. Leigh thrust up. The penis filled her.

Charlie’s tongue pushed into her mouth. She sucked it. His tongue was in her, his penis was in her. She