Chapter 1

I love this lake. Sandy shores, big, deep, half of it dedicated to wildlife so there's no way the water can turn stale in the summer, part of the shore dotted with bushes and trees which give shadow, high grass which gives privacy if you want it, and mostly used by students who couldn't care less about you bathing attire. Or lack of it.

Today, it's packed as usual. I find a spot besides a blackberry bush where a hopeful couple tries to find any that are already edible. No such luck; after a while they give up and head off to their nest in the grass, holding hands.

On my other side is a guy who's getting toasted. He declines my offer of sunscreen with an air of 'do I look like I'm gay or what?'. Well, I'm not either. So what? Get sunburned, then. I think I'll doze for a while.

Heat. Sweat. Boredom. Will that lecture never end? Bah, it's probably all in the book anyway. Pack stuff, get out, unlock bike, off to the lake and its beach.

This ride usually takes ten minutes. Today, ten eternities. Others had the same bright idea as me, the place is packed already. Favorite Spot One, too many people. Favorite Spot Two, ditto. Fav Secluded Spot, umm, two couples who may or may not be actually having sex right now, I'm not the voyeur type. Fav Blackberry Bush, the stupid berries aren't ripe yet but the guy beside it has left some room, probably afraid of the thorns. Duh. Anyway. Get towel out of bag, flop towel down, flop self onto towel, ouch -- after seven years with breasts I should have learned not to do that any more. Relax. Tune out the ubiqiutous music, don't ask how many boomboxes today...

Tell internal alarm clock to ring me five minutes before being burned crisp. Sleep.

Zip. OUCH! Huh? Oh, the guy has decided he's had enough and is leaving. Apparently, he's trying to zip his pants up, but isn't wearing underwear, and his pubic hair has been caught in the process. Come on, guy, this is why God (or Mr. Levi, or whoever) has invented the button fly. I turn my face to the other side so that he doesn't catch me stifling my laughter.

On that other side, the blackberry bush has gained the company of a young woman. She's lying on her face, looks at that guy, grins slightly. Short unruly hair, tomboyish face, green eyes... eyes... now she looks at my eyes. As I look into hers.

Somehow, we can't seem to stop looking. Our grins fade.

Huh? Why's that guy's towel on fire? No, just orange. He's still hopping around. Ants in his underwear? Ah. No underwear, hair in the zipper. Giggle. Stifle giggle, Mr. Hoparound isn't in a good enough mood for that. The guy next to me turns to look at me. Probably laughing inside too. Nice face, bit largish nose, brown eyes, I look at him, look...

Five minutes later. Still looking into his eyes. Don't ask why. Just seems the right thing to do. Somehow.

Have you ever tried to really look into the eyes of somebody else for any length of time? Sometimes, it's as if you could read each other's thoughts. Or your innermost desires. Other times, you and your partner just vanish. Only the eyes remain, looking at each other, but the mind is... elsewhere.

This was one of those times. I was brought out of it by a growing awareness that the neck muscle responsible for pulling my head to the side was going on strike soon. So I turn to the side and put my head on my arm.

Peripherally, I note that my dick is now pointing sideways, i.e. to the ground, and I think hopefully she doesn't think I want to start something with her. Well, maybe I do, but at the same time nothing could be further from my mind. I'm still mesmerized by her eyes. So seems she, with mine.

He turns to his side, faces me. Rubs his neck, ah, must have gotten a crick in it. I'm getting one too, seems, so I do the same, grope around a bit and pull a towel under my head for a pillow. Him still looking into my eyes. Weird. Stretch my legs a bit. He's not looking down. Never met a guy like that before. Up the ante: raise hand, touch breast, tweak nipple. Almost makes my eyes lose focus. All he does is raise his eyebrow a bit. I grin. He grins back. We're serious again. Still looking into eyes.

Now she, too, is turning to face me. I hope she won't mind if I save looking at her body for later. Her eyes still fascinate me. She moves around a bit... is she trying to turn me on? I raise an eyebrow at her. This is fun.

I guess that if I would want anything, which I'm not at all sure about, I don't want a show, I want her. Let's start with a small part... so I take my hand from under my head and slowly slide it across the sand towards her, palm up. I wonder what she'll do...