by Aidèe Jaimes
“Who could go furthest into the water. Loser owed the other a hundred bucks, winner got the hundred and Old Bessie.”
“Ah, I see. You were trying to keep the other from getting further. And I made you lose with my fake gator bite.”
He chuckles. “Probably saved my life.”
“Yeah, you could have been eaten!”
“Actually, I think my uncle would have killed us before that. See, when he was a kid he was bit on the calf by a snapping turtle. Told everyone it was a gator bite for so long I think he believes it now. Now he’s on a mission to keep us all from getting attacked.”
I laugh because that’s what I do with Bo. My face is starting to hurt from it.
“Guess I should shower, too,” Bo says.
I look him up and down and take a deep breath. His clothes are clinging to every bit of him, rivulets of water dripping from his hair down his face, arms and legs. If it wasn’t because he has leaves and other bits stuck to him I’d want to lick him all over.
“Should I come with you?” I ask hopefully.
“Believe me I would love nothing more, but with these nosy people they’ll all know what we are up to.”
“What are we gonna be up to?”
Bo gives me a sly smile. “For now, a very cold shower.”
CHAPTER 15
It’s about three o’clock, everyone has either retired to their space within the house to digest, or has gone home for the afternoon. According to Bo, this was just lunch, the actual party doesn’t start till dark.
I myself am sleepily swaying on my new favorite porch swing, thinking of nothing in particular. Bo comes out freshly showered and changed, smelling clean and looking as delicious as ever.
“You wanna take a little ride with me?” he reaches for my hand before I can answer.
“Yeah, where to?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Suspicious of where this may lead, I go and freshen up first, then meet him out at the van and we are off.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
We don’t drive far, never leaving the property, but far enough that walking wouldn’t have been an option. Bo takes us through a narrow winding road that ends at a small boathouse by the lake.
There are several row boats and kayaks and fishing gear. Also inside is an airboat, which excites me to no end.
“Are we going on that?” I ask. “I’ve always wanted to do an airboat ride!”
“Sorry, not today. That belongs to my uncle, he would have my hide if I touched it. We are taking this baby out for a little tour of Teche,” he says, untying a little rowboat and tossing in some oars.
I jump excitedly. “Yes! Bo I would love it!”
Looking very satisfied, he leaves me there for a minute while he retrieves something from the van, coming back with a small cooler full of waters and snacks. “Just in case we’re out here for a while,” he says. “You can swim, right?”
“I can float.”
“Good enough. In you go!”
I get in, not smooth like I would like, but struggle to get myself steady. He helps me, chuckling the entire time. When we are finally in, he does a few safety checks and sprays everything, including my hair, with Deet.
“Remember to keep arms and legs inside the craft at all times, because as you know, you may not get them back!”
I snicker at his warning, but bring my limbs into me even tighter. And we are out of the boathouse.
There are no words that can fully describe the beauty of the bayou or the emotion it evokes within me. There are simply too many elements, too much life and stories. It’s the sort of place that records everything that happened before us; like the small shack stuck in a narrow clearing, now in shambles and taken over by nature, but still clinging to its existence. There are remnants of old docks, that instead of detracting from the loveliness of it all, add to its romance.
We slow down at a clearing, where the cypress trees are far apart enough from each other that the sun is able to penetrate. Tilting my head up and closing my eyes, I watch the light go in and out through my lids. I take in a deep breath of the warm humid air, letting the thick scent of moss and water wash over me.
“Show me your breasts.”
My breath catches in my throat and my head snaps up. The way he asks for it seems more of a demand than a request, as if he has the right to ask for any part of my body he wants. For a second I am tempted to say no. This was not part of the deal.
Instead, my trembling hands reach down to the bottom of my shirt and I pull it up, little by little, over my bra. Bo’s eyes raptly follow the movement as I inch my way up. He’s at ease, very much enjoying the show, while I’m hardly breathing.
“Pull down your bra,” he commands.
With the tips of my fingers I push down on the white lacy edges, until my breasts pop over the top.
“Put your hands down.” His eyes are glued to my chest.
It’s hard to do, letting go, but I do it, putting my hands on the board I’m sitting on. I feel so exposed and vulnerable, and exhilarated.
The light from the sun is shining right on me. Bo can see every detail. My nipples go from rosy to brown as they harden to little pebbles. I want to feel self-conscious, but I’m so aroused I don’t care if I’m not perfect.
He adjusts himself and there is hunger evident in his eyes and I know he’s just as turned on by this as I am.
He reaches out his right hand and the boat rocks a little. “Don’t move or we’ll tip,” he says as he slowly circles my nipple with his finger.
I bite my lip and moan as he does the same to the other one. The moisture and pressure between my legs is building.
“Your breasts are beautiful, Cris. When we get back I’m going to put them in my mouth. Would you like that?” With his palm, he gently grazes my nipples, back and forth.
“Yes!” Oh god, I think I might come just from this! I can’t take it anymore and I reach for the button on my pants. I have to get relief!
“Don’t touch yourself. I want to be the one who makes you come.”
“Then pull this thing over and fuck me already!” I look around the swamp like a crazed person, and suddenly all I see is a tangle of roots filled with bugs and slime. There doesn’t seem to be a way out.
Bo chuckles at my desperation and begins rowing through the trees, while I hold my shirt down. I’m squirming, even as I try to be patient. I just want his hands all over me already!
It takes an eternity to reach a small wooden boathouse tied to an old dock that I guess was at the water’s edge at one point. Now it sits in the very center of the swamp.
“We came here a lot when we were younger,” he says as he jumps out and ties our canoe to the cracked railing. “Wait a sec, I just want to make sure it’s safe.”
“Bo, that thing looks like it’s gonna cave in!”
“Nah, it should hold us okay. Nate still uses the house from time to time so he makes sure it’s safe enough. Just want to make sure there isn’t a snake or something hidin’ in there.” He walks into the old dark structure and disappears from sight. He’s out in less than a minute and reaches his hand down to me. “It’s good.”
The moment both of my feet are on the grayed out wooden deck I grab him by the neck and pull his head down to mine. I kiss him like my life depends on it. He seems a little stunned at first, but quickly his desperate need rises to my level and he is holding me painfully to him.
“Let’s go inside,” he groans into my neck.
I shove his head down further wanting him to deliver on that promise of his mouth on my breasts.
“Just suck on them please.”
He moans and complies, pushing my shirt up and pulling my bra down to expose me again. I cry out when his lips make contact and moan harder the harder he sucks. He switches from breast to breast as his fingers apply pressure between my legs and I rub myself on him as hard as I can.
I grind until I come,
but before I can enjoy the after bliss fully, he turns me around and pulls down my pants to my knees and he is inside me from behind. My hands are on the splintered rail, the swamp before us, with the sounds of toads and flies all around. There are three alligators not twenty feet from us, just floating watching us mate.
There is something so carnal, so primal, about having sex outside, exposed this way, that sets you free. I have a need for more, so much more than this.
I turn away from him and take my pants off fully, tossing them onto the boat. He looks a bit dazed, but he follows when I take his hand, and lead him into the small boathouse.
I, myself don’t know where we are headed, all I care about is a flat surface. And I am not disappointed when I see the bed is through the first door. I don’t take much time to look around, I have much bigger things in mind. My eyes take quick notice of the clean interior, a small kitchenette with mini fridge and tiny sink and electric stovetop. A small door I can only assume leads to a bathroom and a twin bed pushed against the far wall, set below two large glassless windows.
Perfect, I think, and push Bo to it. I take off the remainder of my clothes, and he does the same. I straddle him, and kiss him deeply as I sit on his dick. His hips begin to pump into me, and I roll over, pulling him so that he’s on top, missionary style. I pull my legs back so that he can see me, see everything, and with my fingers, rub on the wetness between my legs, gathering as much as I can, then using it to wet my anus.
His eyes bulge and they are glued to that part of me, when I take his penis and begin to rub the head of it there. He swallows hard.
“Shit, are you sure? Don’t we need lube?”
“I’m so wet, Bo. I need you there. But be gentle. Just be gentle.”
He takes over, rubbing the head, then applying pressure. A little in, a little out, a little further in.
It does hurt, somewhat. But once it’s in, and he begins to thrust, he fills me so completely, that the sting turns to utter pleasure. His fingers dig into my ankles as he pushes my legs further back.
I can feel his penis thicken, my anus being so sensitive, that I know even before he screams he is going to come. He drives himself in as deep as he can go one last time, and holds it there hard, where I can feel him throbbing with each spurt of semen into me.
Somehow through his haze he still thinks of me, and with his hand, brings on my own release, even while he is still buried deep inside of me.
It’s a little sore when he pulls out. He practically falls off to one side and I roll to the other, facing the window, feeling the gentle swampy breeze on my face.
I help him wash after which he lazily walks back to the bed. He’s almost instantly snoring away softly. I jump into the tiny shower, too, and stare out a little round window into the swamp with a smile on my face.
I want to feel guilty. I will I am sure. But not right now. Later…
My eyes pop open and I catch Bo staring at me.
“How long was I asleep for?” I sit up, subconsciously covering my chest with my arm.
“After everything that we did you’re still coverin’ yourself?”
I can feel the pink in my cheeks, but still don’t release my boobs. “So was this what you wanted to show me?” I ask looking around the small space.
“Actually, this was pretty much it. I wanted to show you how quiet it is out here. You asked if you could see where I ran away to. The main house is gone, but this is part of it. I think my uncle’s had this since he was a child himself.”
There is a new appreciation for the place, not that I didn’t feel already connected to it. I smile imagining Bo as a youth coming here, brat that he was. The many adventures two young boys would have had here.
“So, Nate still comes here? Could someone come now?” I quickly stand and start dressing.
Bo laughs. “No, no one will come right now. I made sure of it.”
“So they know we came out here?”
“I just said I wanted some alone time.”
“What they must be thinking!”
“It doesn’t matter, chère. They don’t expect different from a couple.”
Right, a couple. Only we’re not. But they don’t know that.
Bo and I straighten ourselves, cleanup a little inside and replace the sheets.
“For the next couple,” he teases. “You ready? We’re gonna take the long way back.”
“The long way?”
“Yeah, with maybe another stop or two.”
My mouth goes dry at the huskiness of his voice as he says that. I’m already wet before we even leave the boathouse, all too aware of what every stop is going to bring.
CHAPTER 16
The evening festivities have begun, and when Bo said the real party wasn’t until dark, he really meant it. There is absolutely no concern for noise levels, as there are very few neighbors close enough to hear anything anyway, and those that do live nearby are getting drunk here with the rest of them.
A large slate fire pit is ablaze, with several folks seated on the built-in benches surrounding it, passing around what Jane described as the best shine this side of nasty. May have been, but there wasn’t a sour face in the bunch, so that tells me it was good enough.
Nate’s band has set up right next to the house, with him on the bass, his father on the viola, Jane on the banjo and two other women I don’t recognize playing the harmonica and spoons. A group of women hoot and holler while they dance before the group.
A gentleman around ninety years old joins them, his knees wobbly, and they all surround him. A young man tries to remove him from the ladies’ hold, saying, “Gramps, you’re gonna break somethin’!”
But the girls push him away, holding on to Gramps. The young man gives up with a wave of his hand and walks away leaving Gramps grinning from ear to ear in the arms of his new lady friends.
I can’t help but grin, too. He deserves a little female attention, I think. Hopefully he doesn’t have a wife here that really might take a shoe to his head over it.
We are on the porch swing, the sound of the crickets and frogs so loud they easily blend into the music being played by the Chevalier Five. Men, women, and creatures alike all sing the song of the swamp and of the beautiful people and their culture.
The night is balmy, cool, with the slight dew that forms on our skin making it feel cold enough to wear a heavy sweater and drape a wool blanket over our legs. I put my feet on Bo’s lap for extra warmth and snuggle in, turning my attention back to the band.
“Who would have thought a big city girl can play the banjo like that!” I cheer Jane on as her fingers fly over the strings so fast you can barely see them. She doesn’t pay me any heed, her face contorting with every change in chord, she is so concentrated.
“She’s full of surprises,” Bo says, squeezing my feet, shooting me a sweet smile and turning back to the band.
I don’t look at the band anymore, though. Now I watch Bo. I stare at him for a long time. He is smiling, not his usual devilish self, but the relaxed sort that says he is in his element. It’s easy to picture him here, in this place. He belongs in this wild. It’s a part of him.
Goodness but he is beautiful! Fireflies and embers light up his features and I think that I don’t ever want to go a day without this, without seeing his face, without being able to openly look at him this way. Tomorrow I will have to look away, but tonight he’s still mine.
Bo turns to me and our eyes meet and we speak without words. His smile fades slowly as he looks at me. I can feel it, the day coming to an end. So is our time together, our short, barely lived story almost over.
He pulls my face towards him, his warm hand cupping my jaw, his fingers in my hair. Our lips, just barely parted, interlock. It’s a soft kiss. Even when we separate, his hand remains and he puts his forehead against mine.
“I need you.” His voice conveys so much emotion that I know that what he’s asking for is more than something physical. I nod, and though my brain warns me agai
nst it, we stand quietly and walk into the house.
I am fully aware that I shouldn’t do this, even as my heart pushes me to take his hand and allow him to lead me through the back doors and up the creaky wooden stairs to our bedroom.
The large space is warm despite the windows that lead to the second story gallery being left open. The filmy white curtains blow in the slight breeze and fill the room with the scent of the fire down below along with the music and other strange sounds unique to the bayou.
I begin to undress the moment I hear the door close behind me, and I turn to see Bo doing the same. I make no pretense at hiding my nakedness from him, baring myself completely in the low light created by a single lamp. There is no reason to cover myself, he has loved every imperfection, every scar and stretch mark.
Bo leads me to the old bed and pushes aside the mosquito netting. I get in and lay on my back, opening my arms and legs to him.
He comes to me slowly, almost carefully. Our eyes connect and I search for something, I don’t know, a hint of the same emotional chaos I am feeling right now perhaps. He’s doing the same with me, searching, asking. His eyes never leave mine when he positions himself at my entrance and pushes himself in, painfully slow.
I take in a breath as he slides in because he’s so deep, not only physically. He’s inside me in a way that I never intended for him to be and he puts me in a hold that I can’t break.
He kisses me then, slowly taking something from me, my soul perhaps. I can’t push him away. I want to tell him to stop. This isn’t fucking. The kisses are too deep, the caress and the thrusts too slow. It feels more intimate than any sex I have ever had. We are making love and beyond anything we have done, this is where I think the truest betrayal lies. But my need for this connection to him is so intense that instead of pushing him away I cling to him more.
He comes inside, his mouth on mine, his fingers entwined with my own. After he’s done Bo rolls over onto his back, taking me with him, all the while he’s still inside of me.
I am straddling him now, and knowing that he’s climaxed already, I take my time simply enjoying the feeling of him beneath me, between my legs. I bend down and kiss him slowly, his mouth, his neck, gently pumping my hips as I do.
