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Cara inhaled fresh, clean air and sighed. Ah, this is the life!
Bird song filled the air, trees rustled overhead, and the rush of the river, always constant, always there, flowed in the background.
“Hello little fella,” she crooned to a tiny Splendid Wren prettily feathered in purple and blue.
A plaintive whine pierced the idyllic surroundings.
“Don’t get jealous Jed.”
Her puppy lay panting in the minimal shade of a eucalypt. It was a shame he had to stay chained but this was a National Forrest, she couldn’t let him roam free with lizards and endangered marsupials at risk.
Maybe the chain was unfair but camping solo was out of the question.
“Show me your menacing growl puppy,” she crooned, chuckling at his dopey grin. Jed rolled on his back, wriggling for a tummy scratch. “Some bodyguard you are!”
Settling back against a tree, she indulged him, watching his leg cycle like a pump. It was like tickling a child – funny at first, quickly disintegrating in to torture. Ending the torment she pulled him on to her lap, absently patting his head.
It had been so long – too long – since she’d been here.
She’d grown up in this Dwellingup forest, spending every school holiday here with her father and brother. Their dad had taught them how to light a campfire, how to fish, and how to respect the bush and the creatures in it.
He’d enjoyed his ‘lone time with them, never bothered that her mother opted out claiming it was madness to sleep on the ground with nowhere to plug in a hairdryer.
He’d also forced them to be independent. “Wet clothes?” he’d say. “Next time remember to hang them up.”
The lessons that Cara had learned in this forest had been the beginnings of her self-sufficiency. Losing her mother to ovarian cancer at fourteen years of age had sped the process along.
“Mum,” she whispered, looking up at the vast Australian sky.
Today was the tenth anniversary of her death.
Cara had escaped to the bush because she couldn’t take another year of watching the men in her family drink themselves in to a stupor. There had to be a better way to celebrate her mother’s life, a way to find joy instead of reliving the sorrow.
Her father and brother had been nightly drinkers for the last decade. On this particular date they predictably woke up and chased whiskey for breakfast.
Cara hadn’t just lost her mother that day; she’d lost her entire family.
The emotional blackmail heaped on her for not attending the yearly wake didn’t bear thinking about. She wasn’t about to spend her hard earned break feeling guilty.
“C’mon Boy.” Transferring Jed from the chain to the lead, she slung a towel over her shoulder and set off for the river. “Swim time buddy.”
Jed was a handful, stronger than he looked. The bush made him manic – a thousand different scents overloading him, luring him every which way.
The river was a shock; lots of muddy flats and a minimal water line, ending well below the jetty. Inconsiderate party animals had left cigarette butts and beer bottles lying on the riverbank.
Didn’t these lowlifes realise that people came here with children? Bottles inevitably broke, leaving sharp glass to cut little feet. Considering the huge rubbish bins back at camp put a dark frown on Cara’s face. Thoughtless and lazy.
“We won’t be swimming here,” she told Jed, thinking of the deepest point only a twenty minute walk up river. Later though, she vowed to come back and pick up the rubbish.
Just not now.
Not when she was yearning to put her body in to cold water.
Her very hot, nubile, young body.
Which brought her to the real reason she’d run away to be alone, didn’t it?
Because Colin kept pushing her to set a date and Cara kept dragging her heels.
They’d made love the night before she’d left Perth. Or at least, they’d squished bodies together in a semblance of making love. Was ‘making love’ a euphemism for a premature performance? An act that couldn’t compete with the length of a commercial break.
Was ‘making love’ a term for vainly struggling to stay awake? Like taking a boring pill – guaranteed to send her to sleep. One pill every three months, if she was lucky, though ‘lucky’ was a serious misnomer.
Why would she be in a hurry to rush to the altar when she already felt like a wife?
A wife who’d been thinking of adding river rocks to the bed simply to give her a reason to squirm.
The wife from the joke who lay under her husband thinking, ‘Beige, I think I’ll paint the ceiling beige’.
* * *
Colin was perfect for her in other ways; responsible, encouraging, considerate, kind. But lately she’d begun to resent the way he always thought of her, checking on her constantly as if she was a wayward child.
An evil twin had been popping in to her head lately. An evil twin that begged bahis siteleri to scream at him ‘For once in your life, be selfish!’
Except in the bedroom, which seemed to be the only place on earth where Colin only thought of himself.
How many times had she yearned for him to be more inventive? Craving his tongue in more sensitive areas of her body, other than the obligatory sloppy kiss?
Maybe she wasn’t being fair. Maybe the fault lay with her. She knew she was pretty, but perhaps she wasn’t sexy enough to arouse that kind of interest.
After their thoroughly uninteresting, passionless interlude, she’d slid out of bed to the sound of his snoring and stood naked in front of the mirror assessing her body.
The evidence before her eyes was undeniable – she was sexy, in the prime of her life. Her lush breasts pointed upwards, her tiny waist curved delicately inwards, her skin was golden, unblemished, her whole package was sizzling hot. She’d been blessed with the goods.
Weighing her breasts in her hands, swinging around and poking her tight bottom in the air, she’d been so turned on she’d almost…
No. She didn’t want to be one of those women who resorted to seedy sex shops, bragging to friends about their latest weapon of mass destruction. She didn’t want to – she outright refused – to be responsible for her own pleasure.
What if she found out once and for all that she was the dud? Then she’d have to resign herself to the fact that it wasn’t Colin’s fault she couldn’t…
Puppy had discovered a blue tongued lizard and was determined to dig it out. Wrestling him out of the bush was a welcome distraction from bitter thoughts of her seething discontent.
Colin was a wonderful guy but…where was the grand passion she longed for?
Admittedly his body fell short of inspiring illicit deeds. He was twenty-five years her senior – past the age of being a gym junkie. Not that she liked gym junkies, all vain and self-absorbed and pumped up on steroids.
One thing Cara took pride in was her total lack of superficiality. Even if Colin was soft – and that was being kind – wasn’t it the inside that counted? His body wasn’t her main concern because she loved him. She loved him.
I love him.
So why did she have to repeat that phrase over and over in her head with mortal conviction, as if she needed to be convinced?
“Ah, sex isn’t everything,” she said out loud.
Jed looked up, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. Quickly she bent down and covered his tender ears. “Have to keep you chaste boy.” Though it was more than likely Jed had more fun than she did.
He wagged his tail then lost interest, skipping on ahead of her.
The sun was decidedly hot for a winter’s day. Winter had a quaint habit of eluding Western Australia sometimes. Her hat was literally a fixture – she never went out without it. Sweat trickled between her breasts and she couldn’t wait to get in the water.
The bush had changed a lot since Cara’s last visit. Twenty minutes had come and gone and she didn’t recognise a single landmark around her. Too late she remembered her father had always driven them to the swimming hole. She trudged on regardless, no question of turning back.
Finally, she rounded a bend and saw a familiar marri tree in the distance. Almost there, she picked up the pace.
Island Pool was exactly as she remembered it, albeit a little low on water, but still deep enough to swim in the centre without touching bottom. The water was gently flowing keeping the depths relatively clean and clear.
“Hooray,” she chimed at Jed, waving her victory arms in the air. Taking him in to the shallows, she let him frolic, failing to avoid the muddy droplets he vigorously shook everywhere.
“Thanks, you’re a real charmer” she laughed, wiping a splatter from her face.
Dropping his lead over a branch in the shade, she slipped off her shorts and t-shirt and swam out to the island of boulders in the middle.
This was definitely the life!
Pulling herself up on to the rocks, the movement heaved her bikinied breasts together, enhancing her cleavage, making her acutely conscious of her body.
The number of times she’d lain passively beneath Colin wishing he would touch her more, kiss her more, suck hard on her taut body…
He never did. He always got straight to it, never drawing out the beginning, rushing swiftly to the end. Her breasts were lucky to get a tweak at all, and if they did, it was in such a businesslike manner she wondered if he was reciting maths in his head as he did it. One plus one equals straight in…
God, she had to stop thinking like this, had to stop being so…needy, so…horny.
She launched back in to the water, setting off upstream for the rocks at the far end. There was a small natural spa there where the river converged and spilled in to canlı bahis siteleri a rock pool, giving a fabulous massage to those daring enough to sit under it.
Good. She needed a good pounding.
Stop it Cara!
Contrary to cooling her down, the river was providing a seductive caress, firing up her nerve endings and awakening the long neglected parts of her anatomy. The sooner she got to the rock pool and felt the punishing weight of the overflow, the better.
She swam faster, reaching the end in record time, plonking herself down under the flowing water with a shaky breath.
Hard water flowed over her chest, down over her nipples, tightening them to tingling buds. The fantasy of swimming naked reared its ugly head.
Well why not?
Settle down evil twin.
Why not indeed?
This was a popular spot on the weekends but it was mid week and she hadn’t heard a single car, let alone run in to a Ranger. She could stake her life on being totally alone, and even if she wasn’t, noise from the road carried for miles giving her plenty of time to pop her clothes back on.
Before she could succumb to a tedious internal debate, her bikini top was off, thrown up on to the rocks, her bikini bottoms landing a moment later.
Oh my god, I am actually doing this.
It felt light and free and wicked to be unfettered. Even more wonderful when she lifted her hips and let the water pour down between her thighs. Spreading her legs slightly, she gasped as the stream dispersed over her, kneading the sensitive point high between her thighs.
She lost herself in the moment, tilting her hips under the constant barrage of water.
Imagine if Colin could see me.
Would it excite him? Make him as hot and bothered as she was? The thought made her shudder. Colin would think she’d gone mad, and getting herself all wired up was stupid and self-defeating.
She considered putting her bikini back on, but… What was the point of living dangerously if she couldn’t see it through to the end? The stubborn side of her nature asserted itself. She would swim down to Jed and back, the physical activity bound to soothe her overheated mind and body.
Then, and only then would she put her clothes back on.
Swimming downstream she headed for the boulders in the centre, determined to take her sweet time about it, after all, she was never going to do this again – it was too wild.
Floating on her back, enjoying the way her breasts floated up, weightless in the water, she anchored herself to the island with one hand, feeling the delicious flutter of a light breeze teasing her erect nipples. God it felt great to step outside the square.
A high pitched sound interrupted her reverie.
Jed. She’d forgotten about Jed. Lifting her head, she pivoted around to check on her dog and realised two things at once: One, Jed was gone; and two, the high pitched sound was a tuneful human whistle.
Oh god, how embarrassing! Thanks a bunch evil twin!
Making herself as small as possible, her head swivelled frantically from side to side, trying to pinpoint the source of the whistle. It was coming from the trees behind the spa pool, drawing ever closer.
Heart pounding, she knew there was no time to retrieve her clothes without being seen. That meant staying here behind the rocks, hiding like a criminal until the owner of the whistle went away.
Oh man, I am an idiot! A sex starved, freaking idiot!
The seconds stretched out in to eons, the owner of the whistle finally emerging from the trees. Cara’s jaw dropped, scooping up a mouthful of river water. She spat indelicately in to the crystal depths, unable to tear her eyes away.
The whistler was undoubtedly male – a man with the face of an angel. Tall and dark, shirtless, a wall of delectable muscle built like…like a clichéd Greek God. She shut her eyes. This is what happens to deprived females, they conjure graphic fantasies…
Impossibly wide shoulders, powerful arms, legs, and abs to die for, he picked his way over the rocks and sat in the very same place she’d just vacated, stretching his back under the torrent of water.
And she, the eager voyeur, hid behind the rocks eating him up with her eyes, discovering she’d been sadly mistaken – gym junkies held a definite fascination. With a body like that he had to have stamina.
Cara, the non-superficial wonder, found herself uncaring as to his name or state of mind. All that mattered was her racing pulse and the irresistible desire to molest his magnificent body.
With only his torso showing, she could make believe he was as naked as she was. The notion made her wriggle in the water, covering her mouth with her hand to stop a stray moan escaping.
She gulped. Good thing Colin isn’t here to see me canlı bahis like this! Colin…her fiancé, her friend… Lusting over a stranger when she was spoken for – what kind of woman was she?
One who couldn’t suppress her lascivious thoughts no matter how faithful she wanted to be. But thinking and doing were totally different bags, and as long as she remained hidden she was in no danger of losing her integrity.
The man shifted position, staring at something in the water. Arm plunging down he retrieved the object that had caught his interest. Dwarfed by his hand, she saw a pink flash and knew immediately what it was – her bikini bottoms.
He lunged up out of the pool, the water sheeting off his spectacular body like a scene from a movie – a scene that sent all the women in the theatre sliding off the wet patches on their seats. Cara was no exception. Unconsciously impersonating Jed, her tongue lolled out of her mouth.
Walking out in to the water, he extracted a pink string, holding her bikini top up with both hands, studying the pink material with a frown of concentration that despite screwing up his face, perversely made him even more attractive.
Looking up, he scanned the river, searching for the missing owner of the candy bathing suit.
Cara cringed back, pulling off the wet sun hat that clung to her head so it didn’t protrude above the rocks and give her away. Peeking between two boulders, her heart stopped when his eyes came to rest on the island. She froze, breath held, wondering if he could sense her.
When he stepped further out, the water swirling around his muscular thighs, her alarm grew. Please don’t come over here. Please! She clutched her hands together in fervent prayer and inadvertently let go of her hat, watching in horror as it floated out from behind the rocks, right before his eyes.
Shit, shit, SHIT!
The man launched in to the water, pulling himself towards her with a deadly overarm crawl, leaving Cara no time to act, no time to reason. Instinct took over and she did what any self-respecting female would do in her compromised position.
She rolled over and played dead.
He was there in seconds, grabbing her chin and towing her downstream towards the muddy shore. Feet touching bottom, he scooped her up to his chest, carrying her like a featherweight. His hot body burned her chilled skin. She screwed her eyes firmly shut, quelling the impulse to look, and concentrated on keeping her limbs floppy.
Laying her gently on the ground she felt his breath on her face, felt him tilt her head back and insert a finger in to her mouth, checking that her airway was clear.
Cara was in a quandary. Soon he’d know she was faking. What if he started CPR and broke one of her ribs? It was best to open her eyes and pretend to cough and splutter.
Instead, she was struck dumb by two stormy eyes encased in eyelashes that unfairly went on forever. He had razor sharp cheekbones, an obstinate, lightly stubbled jaw. Her fingers flexed, imagining the texture of it.
Up close, he looked a million – a trillion – times better.
Automatically her treacherous lips closed around his finger and her tongue joined in, sucking him deep in to her mouth.
Stunned he rocked back on his heels, snatching his hand back as if she’d bitten him. Angry lines pulled down the corners of his mouth, drawing her attention to his full, edible lips.
“Holy shit Lady! What the hell do you think you’re playing at?”
She couldn’t think of an answer, could barely form a thought at all with the ultimate example of male perfection looming over her.
“Answer me Lady.”
“I… I…” What could she say that didn’t come off as if she was a lunatic?
“Speak goddamnit!” He picked her up by the shoulders and shook her.
Her explanation came out in a breathless rush. “I…I didn’t want you to see me naked!”
He seemed to comprehend for the first time that she was indeed starkers, and that the pulverising shake he was dishing out did startling things to the alignment of her breasts.
Sucking in a sharp breath, he let her drop, watching her face as she rose up on her elbows. Strangely, she didn’t feel vulnerable lying in the mud without a stitch on. She felt empowered, her ego soaring when his eyes dropped down, down, down, taking her in from tip to toe.
Did he think she was sexy? Did he find her desirable?
She gauged his reaction the only way she knew how – by surveying the swell between his legs. Oh yes! He was enjoying the view. In fact, she’d given him a stiff shock. She giggled like an airhead.
His eyes switched back to hers, widening with astonishment when she audaciously reached out to touch him there.
“Listen Lady,” he batted her hand away. “I don’t know what deluded thoughts are going through your mind…well, actually I think I do… but… but this is not going to happen. I don’t even know you!”
“So?” she challenged, ignoring her conscience, and sanity. Gods like him had their wicked way with strangers all the time. She knew it, and judging by the guilty look on his face, he knew it too.
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