by Lori
"Ahhh, gotta love the Blue Ridge." I sighed to myself. My room at the resort had a mountain-view. Nothing spectacular, I know, as ALL the rooms had the same view; but ... what a view. I opened the balcony doors, the sheer window dressings dancing on the cool breeze, a welcome relief from the late July heat and humidity. My eyes swept over the lush green, perfectly-manicured lawns, past the tennis courts and the stable, and up to the mountain, all blue-green and breathtaking.
I quickly unpacked, showered and changed. I HAD to get outside and run my toes through the earth. Like a woman possessed, I tore out of my room, running down the hall and the main staircase, stopping abruptly as every eye turned my way, looking at me with unapproval and disdain. At once, I felt like a scolded schoolgirl, putting my head down in apology, descending the rest of the stairs as a proper woman should.
The rest of the guests were, well, to be stereotypical - matronly. Being from the North, I was quite unaccustomed to the steely-eyed glare of disapproving Southern older women, which they all were, their equally old husbands covering a grin, which they replaced with a shake of their heads, before turning away from me.
I was beginning to feel like this was going to be no picnic and I could feel the stress of my normal life creeping back into my neck and back ... and then I saw him. Handsome, well-built ... my age ... and a huge smile on his face. It seemed like he understood my dilemma at my "error" and I couldn't help smiling at him in return. I knew who he was, of course. It was kind cool that a Backstreet Boy was at the same resort; although at first, I couldn't imagine why he'd picked this place with all the seniors. Then it dawned on me: no teenyboppers, no one to recognize him, no one to disturb his peace. I immediately decided to not disturb him as well - it was the least I could do. I had to giggle at the irony, though because I'd always had a "thing" for him, was dying to meet him, here he was, and I wouldn't allow myself to even go up and say hello.
I carried that smile with me out onto the lawns, where there were even more seniors, dressed in their organza and chiffon and ... hats ... there were so many HATS! The women even had pumps on. In July. In the mountains. I HAD to get away from these people; so, I figured I'd go for a little walk so I could relax, privately. It looked like I'd have to be on my toes the whole weekend and my New Jersey spunk kicked in and decided that, while I would be respectful, I was going to do the things I wanted.
As I got out of view, the first thing to go were my shoes, which I carried the rest of the way to the stable. As soon as my bare feet touched the ground, I moaned outloud at the sheer pleasure in it. In feeling the raw earth beneath my feet. In feeling like a part of nature and all God's created. With a chuckle, I remembered how, no matter how bad my life gets, in whatever aspect, all I have to do to reconnect with this big ball that we're all part of, is to just take off my shoes and socks and touch the ground with my bare feet, squishing my toes into the ground.
In my glee, I actually skipped to the stables, catching some pretty strange looks from the stablehands, although they greeted me with smiles, which I was glad for. I chose a stunning chestnut Quarter Horse, with a cross between a star and a stripe on his forehead, two white socks, two white stockings. He stood about fourteen hands and I had to really reach to stroke his forelock.
After much sweet-talking, the groom allowed me to ride bareback, although he wouldn't budge on the bridle. See, when I was a little girl, my Daddy had horses, Quarter Horses, and I would get home from school before he or my Mom got home from work; so, every day, I'd go out into the paddock - barefoot - pick a horse and walk it over to the gate where I would attach a lead rope to its halter, tying the other end to the other side of the halter, and use that as my "bridle." A saddle? Nope. Too little to pick one of those suckers up, much less put it on the back of the horse and fasten it. Once I "bridled" the horse, I'd climb up onto the gate and climb on to the horse's back and ride him or her around the paddock until either I, or the horse, felt like stopping and then I'd just jump down and undo the lead rope.
To be totally honest, it's the only way I've ever ridden a horse.
I actually haven't ridden since I was that little girl and the thought of getting to ride a beautiful horse in these beautiful surroundings had me giddy. They made me put my shoes back on, too. Understanding my pout at having to do so, the groom whispered that what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them, it was just the insurance company and all, and I got the drift. I could've kissed the man.
The horse had a gentle soul and together we went along the trail past the gardens and into the forest. The strong pine scent rushed me, filling my lungs with Mother Nature herself. I could hear a few birds singing some happy tune; and, occasionally, a squirrel would scamper up a tree or a little bunny would pop its head up before going back to his lunch. The sun broke through the canopy in spots and it really looked like some picture postcard of Heaven. We ambled along, taking in just Nature and I could hear water. I gasped with surprise at the realization that I'd come across a stream, a real live babbling brook, the water dancing across the stones. I followed the stream to where it flowed into a small pond, seemingly surrounded by willow trees. On the far side of the pond was a meadow, where I decided to stop and rest for awhile, collect my thoughts, commune with nature. I tied off the horse to an apple tree in the middle of the meadow - and he seemed quite content to have a rest and a snack.
My shoes off, I rolled my pant legs up, sticking my feet in the cool water of the pond. As the day wore on, my clothes were stuck to me and I was drenched in sweat and that pond looked more and more inviting. The only thing keeping me out of the water was the fact that I didn't have my bathing suit on ... or with me and I was too terrified at the idea of being caught by one of the senior guests to chance a skinny dip - or even a swim in my bra and panties. I watched the sun drip beyond the tree line and couldn't take it anymore. Not a single solitary soul had come down that trail; and, between the heat and the pond calling me, my inhibitions were thrown to the four winds.
I quickly disrobed and jumped in with abandon, the cool water instantly soothing me. I swam and floated and played for well over an hour; and, before I knew it, the moon had risen. With a start, I realized that I was no longer alone in the pond and panic rose within me.
"Who's there?!"
"It's okay. I won't hurt you." I recognized the voice immediately and knew that I was, indeed, safe.
"Where are you? Let me see you."
"Ok."
With the moon behind him, all I could see was his silouette as he swam over to me. I just looked at him, the sight of him literally dripping wet totally throwing me for a loop momentarily. I'd always thought him handsome; but, soaking wet, this man was irrestibly gorgeous. Thankfully, he took the expression on my face as questioning his appearance in the pond, so he explained:
"I don't mean to interrupt you. It was just so hot out and with all the old biddies by the pool, I didn't feel right taking a dip there; so, I asked a few of the staff if there was some place else to go and they told me about this place. I got in down the other end and I didn't see you until I swam down here. I'm truly sorry if I scared you."
"That's okay" I managed to garble out.
We started talking small talk, getting to know one another a little, the conversation a bit awkward at first at the realization that we were both naked and less that two feet apart. The awkwardness quickly subsided as he began to tell me funny stories about his life and I doing the same in return. We found out that we had quite a bit in common and the more I got to know him, the more I liked.
I still couldn't shake how attractive he looked and I could feel desire building. We'd moved to where we could both touch bottom as treading water was growing quite tiresome. I'd also always been curious about what it would be like to kiss him - he had such sweet-looking, kissable lips. The imp in me decided to show herself ... and I told him, not only that I knew what his "day job" was; but, also about my curiosity.
He looked a little surprised, running his hand through his hair and giving me this "aw, shucks" look and I immediately felt like a smacked ass, like I'd broken the good time and now it was over and I ruined it. I just had to be honest with him. I was growing to truly like him and respect him for the man that I was getting to know and, part of respect is honesty.
I bit my lower lip, silently cursing my self and my big mouth, when he reached his hand out, touching my chin, bringing my gaze to meet his. His thumb stroked along my jawline and across my bottom lip; and, before I knew it, his mouth was coming down towards mine and my eyes grew wide at knowing that he was going to kiss me. Our lips touched gently, our bodies instinctively moving closer to facilitate the kiss. Accidentally. On purpose. I don't know which. All I know is that our bodies met beneath the cool water and a fire was lit inside us both, and I truly don't know which of us was more surprised.
His tongue tentatively explored my mouth; and, at my matching exploration, he plunged his tongue deep, tasting every inch of my mouth. He drew my upped lip into his mouth, sucking gently and my low moan echoed across the water. My hands went around his neck, his around my back, our bodies crushed against one another.
His hands caressed my back and he pulled his fingertips firmly across my back before reaching around, taking my breasts in his hands, massaging them, kneading them, my nipples fully aroused and throbbing. My pelvis moved against his groin and the feeling of his arousal filling me with need. He lowered his hand, moving his fingertips around my center and I gasped against his hot mouth. He found my depths, working me into a frenzy.
My hand found his length and I stroked him until it was his moans echoing across the water. He reached down, scooping me up in his arms, carrying me out of the pond, the cool air heightening every nerve ending in our bodies. He laid me down in the soft long grass, again taking my face in his hands, kissing me tenderly - yet passionately.
I spread my legs to give him entrance and I cried out as he filled my depths, digging my nails into his back. He thrusted in and out of me, his pace increasing as our passions rose. His orgasm came mere moments before mine and all I could gasp as I climaxed was his name ...
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"Brian."
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