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Unusual Love (MF, rom)
by VicSwriter (VicSwriter@aol.com)
******
Adult text of a sexual nature (MF, romance). Minors grow-up first.
(c) Copyright VicSwriter@aol.com 1996 May be posted, but only in
its entirety including authors note at end, and not for profit.
******
Re: Where's the wildest, most unusual place you've ever made love?
On a gravel bar of the Missouri Ozark's Current River, under an
upside-down canoe, during a hail storm, with boat cushions and
life jackets as our 'bed'...
The color of the clouds told me it was coming fast and was going
to be a downpour even if a short one. Peggy saw it too. She knew
the river as well as I. We both knew how fast it could rise after
a thunderstorm, and it didn't have to be right here; anyplace in
the watershed above could produce a foot or two rise in the water
level in less than 30 minutes and over several hours we'd seen up
to a 4, even 6 foot increase.
One morning, on another trip, we woke to water lapping at our
sleeping bags after a star filled night... There had been
lightning in the sky over the horizon upstream from us, but we
didn't think much about it because we were clear up into the trees
on the highest part of the gravel bar. We lost some gear and
food; almost lost our canoe, but had tied it even though it was on
'dry gravel' when we turned in. We had just learned not to make
camp on the gravel bars during the spring and early summer months.
This storm was building fast as Missouri storms can do in spring
through early summer. It wasn't getting wet that concerned us;
you don't float if you're scared of that. Lighting and aluminum
boats in water, and hail were our concern. That this storm had
lightning was obvious; it's color said it probably had hail too.
We looked at each other and immediately started looking for a
place to seek shelter.
About 15 miles further down stream and we could have waited this
storm out, as we had on an earlier trip, in Cave Spring. You can
paddle right into the cave spring pool from the river with many
tens of feet of protective limestone above. Very safe really, as
long as no one got rambunctious: there was a 90 foot deep shaft of
raising cold spring water under you. If you tried, you could
squeeze maybe 25 canoes into the natural shelter. We pushed the
limit that day as it was a busy weekend. Meet lots of interesting
people that afternoon. Passed around beer, soda, and snacks, told
stories, jokes, even sang some songs waiting for the storm to
pass.
This storm wasn't waiting for us to reach Cave Spring, besides, it
was late afternoon and we intended to make camp soon anyway. We
passed one gravel bar as it could be cut off from high ground too
easily. Around the next bend, as the first gusts of the squall
made the distant trees dance, we put in on a nice bar that
connected with some higher ground at one end. We scrambled out,
dragging the loaded canoe on the gravel some 30 horizontal and 3
vertical feet clear of the river, the first of the pea size ice
pellets providing the extra adrenaline rush to get it done. Peg
and I hastily started unloading and I threw a couple of half
hitches with the bow line around a forked scrub tree that marked
the tree line high on the bar. We unloaded the last item
together: the heavy cooler, placing it at the end of the gear Peg
had arranged next to the canoe. The rain and hail were beginning
to get more than annoying as we flipped the canoe upside-down over
the arranged gear. I had the bow stuck right into the low forked
tree trunk; Peg rested one side of the stern on the ice chest.
The effect was to provide a little more room under the canoe than
had it just been on the ground. Yes, the team had done this drill
before. We scrambled under our emergency shelter. Peg
immediately set out rearranging the gear and cushions to provide
reasonable room and comfort for us humans.
Have you ever been under a canoe --or a metal roofed carport or
utility shed-- in a hail storm? You can't even hear yourself
think, yet alone talk.
With the work all done, both of us wet, and the cooling air of the
storm front, we were left cuddling for warmth. Peggy was already
starting to shiver. I moved quickly to get her out off the wet
standard floating attire: her tee-shirt and cut-off jeans short-
shorts over bikini swim suit. We left her in her bikini... for
now. I located a beach towel packed in a vacuum bag and got it
around her. Next order of business: get me out of my wet stuff.
There wasn't much maneuvering room, but with Peg's help, I was
soon spooning her to me under the beach towel.
The hail just kept getting bigger and more plentiful, and the
noise more deafening by the second. Now, hail is usually a short
lived part of a storm; when it continues for awhile, it's
indicative of a large, powerful storm. As the hail actually began
to cover the ground it was apparent this storm was going to be
with us for awhile.
So what do you do to pass the time under a canoe in a hail storm?
Well, when you're with the sexiest gal in the world --IMHO-- and
she's hunching her bikini clad ass back into your groin,
something's bound to come-up! Couple of things about the
shivers... you often get goose bumps and extremely hard nipples
too! And you like to be rubbed and to rub. Rubbing creates
friction which heat things up. One of the things that was heating
up was pushing steadily between my love's legs.
Peggy's bikini top was interfering with proper rubbing of certain
parts so it was disposed of quickly. Peg hung it with her other
wet clothes over one of the canoe braces that now interfered with
our headroom. Several minutes later her bikini bottom joined the
top. There we laid on our sides, spooned together, hunching; her
back into me, me into her. A shift of angle, a lifting of supple
leg, a helping hand from my love, and I eased home. The warmth
enveloped and spread through out my being, and I think back into
Peggy's too, for she no longer seemed concerned with the beach
towel. The crescendo of the storm was matched by our own, but it
was as if we were along for the ride; the power of the storm
carried us. We felt no need for a rapid, forceful rhythm that so
often marked our love making. The storm, its pelting of hail and
sheets of rain provided the energy and tempo.
The hail finally stopped, leaving small drifts of several inches
in places. The rain settled in for a torrential downpour. Just
after I flooded Peggy and she snuggled back into me in a contended
welcoming, relaxed way, I began thinking about another kind of
flooding. I raised up on an elbow to where I could assess the
river level, comparing it to a mark I noted as we put ashore. It
was already up about a foot. I glanced at the southwestern sky;
it was not nearly as mad. The rain was even waning in its
intensity. I decided we could afford to wait for the rain to stop
or nearly so before making a move to higher ground and hopefully
our campsite for the night.
So where were we? Well, though now soft, spent, I was still
enveloped by my love's tight, bald, sweet pussy. She held my arms
tightly to her, one hand on the swell of breast, the other to her
check. With the cacophony of the storm we still communicated non-
verbally, her gentle suckling on my knuckle telling me she didn't
achieve release with the tension of the storm earlier. I backed
my chest away enough I could roll Peg to her back. I slid down
and eased gentle from her, getting to where I could suckle. After
an unmeasured time I moved down further, picking my way in our
confines, encouraging her up a little, scooting on the boat
cushions that provide some, if not uniform comfort. The beach
towel was once again arranged for warmth over her arms and chest.
My breath would warm her loins. The canoe brace over my shoulders
now served a new purpose: Peg's legs pulled up and out, she easily
rested her feet on each end of the brace at the canoe's gunnel.
Her use of the canoe brace gave her leverage that was definitely a
new twist to the position. I found myself following her sweetness
more than usual, but that didn't matter. For the next moments,
the storm, the wet gravel under my legs, the entire uniqueness of
the setting, faded in importance as I, with mouth and tongue, made
love to my love. Nothing else mattered until I felt the twitching
of her release under my chin.
With the telling relaxation of her entire being, I helped her
untangle from the canoe above us and scooted up once again to
cuddle and kiss and smile into one anothers eyes. Without words
we agreed, "Yes, we had outdone ourselves... again!"
...
****************** Not the end ...
The above is an excerpt from our private story, PDL, Chapter 18:
Peggy's First Gang Bang. Sorry, it will never appear in a public
post, it's too long, too personal. Send an email to learn how you
can acquire it.
VicSwriter@aol.com