4. Troubled Waters
TROUBLED WATERS
JO
The swim is so nice that I stay in the water until my fingers grow pruney before I finally pull myself out of the water. The gentle wind crosses my shoulder, tickling the water stuck to my skin. I don’t have a towel, I wasn’t planning on getting this wet.
But I haven’t seen another soul since arriving here.
It makes sense, I suppose, that no one else wants to spend the end of the world hiking in the woods, or maybe I strayed so far off the marked trail that no one has come out this far.
Either way, I decide to take advantage of the situation and sunbathe nude.
Spreading myself across a sun warmed rock and let nature dry me off.
There’s not enough time to develop skin cancer now. I may as well get a tan.
The warmth sinks into my skin, down into my very bones. No one is here, no one can see me. It all feels so wonderfully good. The ground quivers beneath me, sending a quake up my whole body.
I close my eyes, enjoying the gentle vibrations. I almost feel like they are targeting my clit. It reminds me how long it’s been since I had anyone in my life, a person in my bed, a head between my legs. Is it weird to be turned on by the world ending?
When I open my eyes again, I finally spot him.
Perhaps it’s not fair to call it a ‘him’.
It’s a face, a strangely handsome face, high on the cliff side.
It’s at least ten feet tall, but seems so defined from this perspective that it could almost been carved.
The features are almost elfin. A delicate jaw, an elegant nose, a brow carved so perfectly that it would be worth cliff diving to get closer to.
The spray of the waterfall tickled my shins, like a lover sprinkling little kisses up my legs to get my attention.
If only the face in the mountain was real, if only he could be here with me. With the warm sun on my naked skin, the wind dancing over my thighs. I’d fuck almost anyone right now, man, woman, rock formation.
“Oh, Mitchell. Fancy meeting you all the way out here.” I giggle as I sneak my hand down between my legs, just to see if I can get things started.
Getting things started doesn’t turn out to be a problem at all.
It’s easy to fall into a weird, sexy fantasy.
Thinking of what I’d do if someone walked in from the forest path.
Someone tall, with skin the color of the flint, hair dark like the forest leaves flecked with silver light, like distinguished grays that decorate a salt and pepper head of hair.
They’d find me here, naked, with my hand creeping between my thighs, and because it’s a fantasy, instead of being frightened or creeped out, I’m just charmed by how cute and attractive they are.
They slip off their own clothes and dive into the water.
And then—after I’ve given complete sexy consent—they climb on top of me and we fuck.
I swirl my fingers through my pubes, and then a little lower.
Seeking out the warm dark cave, and the bundle of nerves that hangs above the entrance.
The mystery mountain person would know exactly what to do without any instructions.
They would know every part of the female body so well that they’d instinctively know what I wanted.
I’d barely have to give any instructions, and they’d know how I like to be touched, and rubbed, and circled right there.
They’d read my body language easily, and when I told them to ‘stay right there’, they would actually stay right ‘there’.
For now, I just have my own hand to slip a finger inside myself, rubbing two fingers of my other hand over my clit, until my hips are bucking up.
I come almost embarrassingly fast and easy. Like the horny little weirdo that I am. I moan as the little orgasm rocks through me, my release gushing out of me.
I lean back with a long sigh. The ground is literally moving beneath my feet now. Shaking hard enough to make my teeth chatter. I think I am imagining it at first, and then I realize that the rocks on the cliff side are moving.