Outdoors, First Time
I embraced the adrenaline rush. The pure buzz of energy. Heady excitement and an emotional high. Heart-pumping body exhilaration. The Woo Hoo feeling of extreme gratification kicked in. The rapids were frickin intense, churning, foaming, turbulent wild water.
We had held our white-knuckle nerve and raced through the narrow cascade into a tranquil, wide meander on the lower reaches of the Tarkine River, where we guided our raft to a small, grainy, sandy landing.
"Well, what did I tell you," I said, beaching the raft, clambering out, taking off my helmet and turning to my thrilled partner of the moment, Claire.
My neighbour, who had always seen me as a friend, a knockabout, a handy mate when she was at a loose end when she needed a jolt of action other than a cock!
She didn't see my longing for her. Claire was a girl who got the guys she wanted: always, too easily. I remained her fun guy. Nothing more.
I'd even be her boy toy, but she didn't see me like that.
Claire removed her helmet. She shook her long, straight strawberry blonde hair matted to her cheeks. We were both wet-faced. The raft eddied, sloshing water in its bottom.
I realised how I yearned for Claire as she had one of those casual but full-on sexy, wet hair, hair-flicking moments. Her freckles sparkled in the sunlight. So cute. Her green eyes were like a beacon on a jetty, forever out of my range.
I desired to count them. No, touch them. No kiss them.
After several unselfconscious head shakes, Claire said, "Mmm, that was nearly as good as sex."
My stomach churned. My heart rate doubled. I virgin blushed.
Claire cocked her head and gave me close scrutiny; she saw my reddened discomfort as I looked towards my boots.
She guffawed, "Oh my God, you are, you are a virgin, Matty. You haven't frickin done it, at eighteen, oh my…"
I wanted to bury my head in the grainy sand, Ostrich style, be buried alive under grey canyon boulders or dive head first into the river, or fuck knows!
I felt as exposed as a ripped raft in a feral ravine.
"Wow," she continued, "Here I was, the white-water virgin, but boy, you have a bigger need to experience, eh sunshine!"
Claire unzipped my life vest in a flurry and invited me to do hers.
I stalled at where to start.
The lime green line of her designer suit shaped her boobs and hip. And the stretch of the dark waterproof membrane over her tummy and thighs, then shaping into her girly mound, so eye divine.
"Get those boots off," she urged, returning me to the here and now.
Truth is, there is nothing sexy about trying to feel a body through a wetsuit.
Her mouth, though invited like a flesh syrup, luscious, mellow and wet as our tongues twisted together, and our lips merged flamboyant in their mutual exploration. My brain hazed, fooled into demanding everything she offered.
Claire gifted me her body. She shucked off my wet suit, followed by my budgie smugglers, releasing my stiff rod.
"Mmm," she went.
I knew she was experienced with guys, but I didn't care because she knelt and sucked off my cock.
I stood, rooted in the sand, my balls straining as my cock was rocked back and forth through her hand and shaped by her gorgeous lips and circling tongue work.
From this point, the thrill of the rapids was overtaken. Like any guy, I instantly appreciated a head job from my first experience.
Claire was pecker knowledgeable; she knew to stop with my pre-cum.
"Wow, champ, save the boy-gravy for later!" she winked.
I watched in stunned rapture as she peeled off her wet suit, unzipping her black seal skin to her waist to reveal her gorgeous shapely white tits and hard, cute pink nipples inside her red bikini top.
She urged me to undo the straps, kiss her boobs, and suck her nipples.
She gave appreciative moans of encouragement, "Mmm, yes, mmm, yes," as I plucked her teats and snogged her breasts.
I could have stayed there all my life, but she urged me down.
I shed her wet suit down over her hips, and with my hurried, clumsy motion, I took her bikini bottom with me, revealing her stunning, trimmed golden mound.
Fluffy honeyed pubes, which I thought existed only in a perfect wet dream.
I felt like Midas turning what I touched to gold. Her pubes were intriguing. Soft, maybe frizzy, maybe downy, I don't know. So wonderful to touch and then part as I petted her slitty moistness hidden in her candied girly private nest.
Claire guided my head down to nestle inside her spread-pink lips. Her clit dazzled, a nub of protruding flesh instantly attractive to my tongue.
My ever-desired girl next door said, "See the bud, lick it, always find and lick it, and you'll be fine with any girl."
I didn't want any girl. I only wanted Claire. The lure and seduction of my first pussy in my face.
I licked her clit, her sweet flesh pea, and she moaned.
"Ooh, nice, yeah, ooh, very nice, ooh, right there, yes, yes, yes!"
Her mound pressed and withdrew from my tongue. Claire made my tongue chase her sensitive, exposed titbit. I licked and flicked her rosebud. Then I sucked everything as her pussy seemed so aroused. Plump and kissable. Claire was so wet, and it wasn't only my saliva. I could taste her leaking liquid creaminess.
"Well, sunshine, let's get you thrusting," she said, easing me down.
I lay beneath Claire on the grainy sand but didn't care as she straddled me. My cock disappeared into her lowered, fuzzy encircling wet warmth. She rose and fell off my cock, using her hips. Grinding to my pubic bone and raising herself up, and dragging my cock high with her, allowing me to feel the entire length of her tight pussy.
"Orrgh, orrgh," I groaned.
"Ooh fuck yeah, ooh, ooh," moaned Claire, flouncing her hair.
Her snatch enveloped my pecker, slippery and encasing. Clammy, yet delectably slushy. Soaking and clenching.
I thrust. As a male I thrust into life.
The roar of the rapid's adrenaline buzz was replaced by a new high and a demanding pecker pleasure release.
I craved to spurt my cum inside Claire.
My golden-haired seductress, my virginity stripper, was riding and gyrating. A woman in her element. I could tell she loved sex. A generous fuck. Her pussy jam-packed.
My cock pumped, immersed in pussy pleasure, steeped in her exuding fleshy wetness. Her juices trickled out in our combined energetic pressing, tugging and pushing backwards and forth and up and down.
I wanted it to last. I wanted it to last for Claire and me. I tried my best.
Then my angel denied me!
She was off my cock!
My flagpole hovered erect.
"Oh fuck," I mouthed, "Sorry, no bloody condom!"
She patted both my cheeks before she spun and faced the river, "Oh, you silly lad, I'm on the pill, and I've decided you deserve my arse!"
Her peachy hemispheres smothered my face. My hands naturally sought her hips.
"Oh boy," she whipped, "Get your tongue tip in my starfish," as she poised her winking balloon knot two inches from my lips.
My tongue slashed in a flurry as I mussed her cornhole with rapid flashes.
Claire held her delectable derriere cheeks and demanded, "Spit, Cameron, spit in my arsehole!"
I hoiked a generous glob of spittle, bulls-eye into her rilled gawp. I watched it trickle, glisten, drizzle and ooze, fanning. Her pink runnels spread like water seeping into irrigation channels.
I paused, mesmerised by the gorgeous and startling.
"Hey, arse-struck wonder boy, get your finger poking in my butthole, now!"
Heaven is a finger stabbing into a woman's freckle, tighter than a perfect-fitting wetsuit.
Claire moaned, "Ooh, good, yes, jab that digit, in and out, ooh, yes, like that, like that. Ooh, yes, don't you dare stop, ooh, ooh."
I had no intention of bringing my fun to a close.
"So good, ooh, yes, but hook, your finger, crook your finger, twist it, and add another one!"
Claire's wish was my command. I delved deeper, bent, flexed and twirled one finger, then two, in her amazingly tight yet expanding backdoor.
Her moans echoed up into the ravine we had navigated with so much excitement. Yet her enthusiasm for life entered a heightened phase.
"Fuck yeah, ooh, yes," as two of my fingers snuggled in her patootie ring.
Claire rose up with the willpower I lacked because my fingers craved eternally to be bolted inside her butt.
I stared into a delicious raw red gawp!
But not for long, as the honeyed-haired dream girl eased her rilled balloon knot encircling my pecker.
"Orrgh, fuck, orrgh fuck, orrgh," I groaned.
"Ooh, fuck, ooh, ooh," from Claire, out of sync, unlike our paired parts.
My cock was squeezed between her humping booty hemispheres, ringed and locked in her back alley. Her starfish and my rod were more than neighbours. They were manacled, fettered and shackled in bum-heaving delight.
The apex of pleasure came to me, a crescendo of well-being rapidly coursing out of me in a stream of jizz jettisoning into her crinkled doughnut ring.
Claire swayed and tossed back her head, moaning, "Ooh yes, ooh, yes!"
I scrutinised her jade eyes widen, roll and embrace our conjoined skin.
I felt her clutchy sphincter squeeze. Voluntary or involuntary, I didn't know; I hoped for her orgasm too.
The heat of our bodies dissipated as she rose, and we separated. Sweat beads runneled cooler on our bodies. I saw goosebumps on her boobs and buttocks as Claire bent, gathering wet suit.
Even without eye contact or words, as we redressed, I stayed upbeat, ready to defy any forthcoming rapid. You name it; I would have taken it on.
Claire smirked, relaxed.
I noticed a pinkish flush overlaying her cute freckles. I really wanted to count them.
I stared at her.
"Oh, Cameron, don't expect this daily, okay."
She saw me deflate like a burst raft.
"Cam, Cam, Cam, you'll get over me, but tell you what, take me abseiling or caving, and I'll probably get excited enough to add to your first experience."
I liked that prospect. I started planning heart pumping, the cusp of risqué locations to secure more of Claire. From that moment, I needed her honeyed-sugared pussy and tight arse permanently.
"Hey, Cameron, because you gave me a decent screw and a pretty good butt fuck, perhaps you can make me sparkle again. Let's get through the Devil's gullet rapids, and who knows!"
Together, we rushed off on a wave of recent body joy down the wild, fast, free-flowing river.
What might happen next?
Whether I beat on like Gatsby against the current, trapped in a mind-blowing one-off past or as Claire's paddle dipped and sprayed white foaming water, I espied her green eyes sparkle like crystal spray drops.
Her green orbs are so close. So close!