Through gritted teeth, her squeals turned to grunts. Her hands went back to pushing on his lower thighs, thin arms struggled to lift herself away fro... him. Their hips met. Firm buttocks met masculine hip bones. Swaying scrotum bumped against bare pubis. Barely noticeable, despite the staggering effort she put up in her fight to repel the invader, a small trickle, starting with just one drop, a clear viscous fluid dripped. From pink cleft, it dropped, alighting on the wrinkled skin of his. "It was hot, now; most of the group was down to swimsuits. Scooter noticed Karin, sitting and talking with Al, too far away to hear. She was wearing a dark blue two-piece -- it would be a reach to call it a bikini, but not all that big a reach. After lunch most of them started up the side canyon, Karin included, still wearing her swimsuit. Al made no secret of his bad leg, a remnant of Vietnam, and for once Scooter decided to stay back and keep him company. They found a shady spot in some. ‘You… bastard… ‘ she whispers, laughing and breathless. ‘Good?’ he says laughing. ‘I need to change my underwear when I get home now…’ she says accusingly. Or tried. She wasn’t convincing. ‘Oh no. The horror. I guess I shouldn’t say it then…’ ‘Say what?’ She replied without thinking. ‘Orgasm. Ten.’ he said. He heard the phone drop and let his mischievous grin grow as he chuckled to himself, walking around his kitchen making himself some lunch. He poured his soft drink as she finally picked. “What about you? Any Mr. Helen? Being you here makes me think he’s not in the picture either. But I could be wrong,” he asked, curious as well. “There was one, divorced. Now I understand your feelings about sharing your cave. I loved my husband, years ago, and living with him was fine, but now that I’m alone, I love my solitude,” she answered, hoping he wouldn’t ask her why they divorced. She wasn’t ready to share that part with him.They sat at the counter, eating, drinking, and talking.“No.
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