Chapter 5

Colby’s turn:

Colby’s got her a MAN!

Yesterday morning was going to be just another day. I was questioning myself as to why I even bothered with trying in life. Here I was out in the woods on a creekbank in a little travel trailer with my mom (okay), her friend Mizz Sam (starting to get just a bit tedious) and Mizz Sam’s husband Cole. And Cole was the bright spot. He wormed his way into my heart and I don’t think he was even trying.

Conversely, I was kinda trying, where ‘trying’ means being as pleasant as I can manage through the hurdles of high school.

I saw Cole’s marriage coming apart before my eyes. I made sure that I wasn’t part of that. Really didn’t need to. Cole’s a kind of homebody type and Mizz Samantha’s, well, she likes to have people pay attention to her.

Cole did, but Cole wasn’t enough.

Just goes to show that people are really difficult to predict.

I watched the whole thing unfold through my teen years, and the last couple of years, well, I needed a bit of high school help, at least that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Maybe I’m strange. Actually, you could probably get signatures to verify that I’m strange. By ‘strange’ I mean that I didn’t get the urge when I hit puberty to start stalking the opposite sex. Or the same sex. Or ANY sex. I don’t know why it was that way for me. It just was.

Except Cole was guaranteed to make me smile and giggle, even if we were in the middle of a geometry proof or a trig problem or a discussion of science or literature. So I LIKED Cole in more than that ‘friend’ way.

Nothing I could do about it, not while he was happily married. When he was married. When he was in an unhappy marriage. When his marriage was definitely on the rocks, though, he was apt to get my best smile and a just a tiny bit longer than friendship-level hug or kiss on the cheek.

The thing is, though, I really didn’t think I had to put on some kind of show for Cole.

When Mom announced we were going camping with Cole and Mizz Sam, I think my heart fell. Cole and Mizz Sam camping TOGETHER? I saw that as a sign that that their marriage, something I thought was over, was making a come-back.

“No, baby,” Mom told me. “Sam’s already got the papers. Divorced. She’s gonna break it to ‘im this week. She thought she’d get me and you another camping trip. You seem to like ‘em, and she and I can talk and drink wine.”

“What about Cole?”

“You know Cole. He’s kinda understood things were over for a while.”

“Cole thinks she’s sleepin’ around on ‘im,” I said.

“He told you that?”

“Yeah. I asked if he and Mizz Sam were gonna reconcile. He told me then.”

“Tell me something,” Mom said.

“Sure, Mom.”

“How come it’s ‘Mizz Sam’ but it’s just plain ‘Cole’?”

“Cole’s my friend, Mom. Study buddy, ‘cept he’s already though school ‘n’ college.”

Mom might have a history of making some bad decisions, but when it comes to dealing with me, she’s pretty frank and adept at getting ME to think.

“You think Cole’s special, don’t you?”

“He’s always treated me nice, Mom. ‘Proper’ nice, not ‘get something from me’ nice. So yes, I guess I think he’s special.”

“Thought that’s what I was seeing.”

“Mom, we’ve never even TALKED about this. And you’ve seen as much of hugging and kissing that goes on between us.”

“I believe you.”

Conversations like that are why I got excited about the camping trip. Cole’s got this old travel trailer. Thankfully it was his before he married Mizz Sam, so he keeps it in the divorce.

He says it’s supposed to sleep six but four is starting to push it if everybody was stuck inside it, like in bad weather. He and Mizz Sam get the actual king-sized bed at one end. Mom and I do a queen-sized bed that is a sofa in daytime. It’s got the amenities – air conditioning, lights, fridge, stove, bathroom with a shower. It gives a nice clean cool place to sleep, you know.

During the day where we camp, there’s the creek, cool, splash-worthy water, sandy bottom, a little sandy beach where we’re camped next to his cousin’s more permanent camp, an actual building. That camp provides the electricity, water, and sewage connections. Camping this way is far from primitive.

Cole told me he didn’t need help setting up when we got there, but I helped him anyway. He and I didn’t go swimming together, not just the two of us. He only hit the water when all four of us were out there.

He did untie his odd little boat from the rack on the top of his truck. He says it’s a ‘pirogue’ and this version is the Cajun one, that ‘pirogue’ is a term for indigenous watercraft, often fashioned from a single log. Cole’s is fiberglass, no motor, and is propelled by paddling.

I got him to take me up and down the creek as he set out a few lines for fishing. I ask questions, he has answers. Leads to conversations.

During the heat of the day, Mom and Mizz Sam stayed in the trailer. I saw Cole pulling a folding lounge chair from a storage locker on the trailer.

“What’cha doin’?” I asked him.

“Gonna go find myself a shady spot away from the trailer, put this chair there, and read.”

“Want company? I have a book...”

“Come on.”

Okay, it’s the deep summer in Louisiana – hot, humid, but here under the trees I can close my eyes and hear the birds and the cicadas, see the puffy white clouds through the canopy of trees, and I can find serenity.

Add a good book...

“Thank you, Cole.”

“For what?”

“For letting me come out here. I know you probably wanted solitude...”

“Solitude’s over-rated sometimes. Only reason I’m here at all is Sam said that your mom said you liked camping out here.”

“Seriously? Me?”

“Yeah. You know that Sam and I ... we barely even talk. I wouldn’t come out here with just her, not at this stage of the game.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Not your fault.”

“So ... you...”

“If this wasn’t for you, I might’ve come out by myself. But me ‘n’ Sam? Nope. I wouldn’t ... and I think she’s got a guy now anyway...”

“But y’all are married...”

“You know how it is, Colby. Sam and me? In name only. Sooner or later one of us will get around to doing the paperwork.”

He’s prophetic. I almost exploded, wanting to tell him what Mom told me.

The sun moves, so we had to move our lounges to fresh shade. This time I deliberately put mine close to his. Didn’t say anything. Just did it.

It was the next day – Sunday – that Mom and Mizz Sam announced their run into town. I gave a little thought as to why Mom didn’t kick when I said I was going to go fishing with Cole.

“C’mon, spider-butt,” he laughed. Yeah, those smart-assed high school boys might’ve meant it as an insult, but between me and Cole I see it as a term of endearment. Extra points because he’s talking about MY butt. When he says it, I giggle. And get feelings.

They left. We went down the river together. I left the campsite as a virgin. I came back craving all of Cole that I could get, including the culmination of his promise to marry me.

And now I’m in the middle of exploring one of the negatives that Mizz Sam told Mom about Cole. “He thinks we need to lounge around naked in bed all afternoon, or half the night, or whatever...”

The woman is crazy. Or maybe her parts don’t work right. Or, as I’m playing with his dick, contemplating crawling all the way up there and kissing him, maybe she didn’t know how to have fun.

Kiss. Snuggle. “Are you comfortable with me here?”

“I’m perfect with you here.” He pushed his face into my hair, breathed deep.

We stayed quiet and dozed right off together.

I woke up to the wonderful feel of his fingertips reading my body as if it were Braille.

“Don’t ever stop that, Cole. I know it’s all new and exciting, but always love me like this.”

“Takes two to stop.”

Us skinny girls can be quite agile. Before he could say yea or nay I was holding his soft dick completely in my mouth. It must be horrible for him. He’s got his fingers woven into my curly hair, holding me as I giggle.

“We gotta do something about dinner,” he managed to squeak.

“I’m good. I got plums.” And I sucked on his right testicle.

“Aaaghhh! Wait! I wanna taco!”

I repositioned myself, laughing. “It’s a discount taco. No stuffing hangin’ over the edges.” I’ve seen pictures. Like tits, there’s a wide range of vaginal geography. Mine’s on the ‘just a slit’ end of the spectrum.

“Perfect!” Cole sighs, then he covers me with his mouth. His tongue traces the length of my slit before pushing inside.

“You open up so beautifully, Colby.”

“I thought women were supposed to have stuff sorta peeking out.”

“Some do. The perfect one looks like this, and I OWN it.” And his tongue stroked my clitty.

Yes, he does own it. He was in the middle of ravishing me when HE had a coughing fit.

“Hair?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s shave us.”

“How’d you get so kinky in twenty-four hours?”

“I’ve been YOUR kinky for years,” I said, “just waiting to unleash myself on you.”

Two hours later – fed (sandwiches), bathed (him and me in the river, stark naked, and there’s a lot of recreation involved) and lastly, trimmed, then shaved, an exercise that’s a whole lot more fun when practiced with a friend.

We had a lot of fun comparing our bare genitalia with ourselves as little kids, but when I touch him... “Little kids never get like THIS.”

He said we needed to do extensive function testing. I said we needed pictures. I dunno who ever might need to see a picture of me with half his shaved dick in my mouth, me smiling as much as you can see around it, or of him looking into the camera, smiling, his tongue just brushing the shiny pink head of my clitty, but we got ‘em, and I mean, after you take the picture, then you’re all aroused and whatever shall we do about that? And that’s why I have a picture of my pussy with a big drool of semen oozing out.