Buckets

It all started when my wife, Anna, turned 49. Not 39 or 50 or something typically momentous, but 49. She fell into a funk that was palpable - none of that usual joie de vivre, yet not outwardly angry or visibly depressed (not that I'm an expert in that sort of thing), just going through the paces kind of funk. She is the more introverted of our pairing, admittedly, with me usually being the one to try new foods first, want to vacation to never-before visited places, always up for a neighborhood party or occasion to dress up - but that's mostly because once tugged into things, Anna first goes along, then gets involved, then emerges enthusiastic, and altogether likes that sort of thing - just wouldn't think of initiating such stuff herself.

So, there we were. I'd just retired, early for my profession - we were financially pretty well set thanks to her doing well herself as a freelance editor of technical stuff - I never understood what she did along those lines, but it paid steadily, and we lived pretty modestly, and it all came together. So, we decided to ditch working and do what we wanted to do before we got too old. For her, that included daily yoga, almost daily gym workouts, and even occasional kayaking . I was more a reluctant jack of all gym workouts guy, getting there a couple of times a week, just to stave off time's ravages - I was hardly buff, but it kept me from being embarrassed about my bod. 

We'd been in that mode for almost a year - working out, doing some volunteering in the city, socializing, enjoying life's rewards as we turned the bend in our lives, when suddenly Anna went into her funk. I tiptoed around things for a while, but finally had to confront her. I fixed dinner - simple and fresh - salad and grilled salmon - oh, and wine, a nice bottle of her favorite grocery store chardonnay. After dealing with the food, I cleaned up, and finally sat down with Anna. There was something she'd turned on, on the TV, but I could tell she wasn't really engaged.

"Hey," I started.

"Hey back," she said, "nice dinner, thanks."

"Anna, can we talk a bit?" I said, turning off the TV.

"Uh-oh. David, serious stuff?" she frowned, recognizing this wasn't our usual.

"I really don't know. You seem down lately. You're quiet, not really angry or anything that I can tell, but definitely down. Is there something I'm doing wrong, or is there something you can talk about, or do you even agree? Maybe I'm imagining, but I don't think so."

I paused, and she paused, and after a very silent minute or so, she took a breath and answered, "It's probably silly, and I realize how fortunate we are and all, but next month I'm going to be 49, and it's got me spooked. That means I'll be in my 50th year, and it's just hitting me that my life is most probably well over half done, and I feel old all of a sudden, and useless, and worn out." And she started sobbing.

I put my arm around her, and knew all too well not to try to "fix" things, or patronize her or anything - just to be there and see what she said next.

"You're never bothered by this sort of thing, so I can't expect you to understand," she said through the tears, but more quietly, the sobs having turned to a sniffle or two.

More quiet on my part. Why do women assume that lack of male tears equals lack of male understanding and/or caring? I wasn't about to get into that at the time, though - probably never will, in fact.

"So, don't worry - I'll get through this, I'm sure, and I'll see I'm being silly, and I'll be embarrassed that you even heard this."

"Hey, if it bothers you, we'd be better working through it than just pretending it isn't there," I offered.

She digested that, and finally nodded. "But we don't know how - we've never needed to deal with this before."

"Well," I said, carefully, "I know, and you're right, but there's something that we got in a seminar at work a couple of years ago, and it made sense then. It was about burnout, which you know happens to folks, and maybe this is related. Anyway, the idea was to take some time and make a bucket list of what you want to accomplish, or things you want to do, or see. According to the seminar, just making the list helped put things in perspective a little, and for some folks, having the list gave them targets to move toward, and pretty soon, just getting one or two done really rejuvenated things."

I pressed on, "So, how about if you do that - make a bucket list. If you'd like, I'll make one too, and we can compare, and who knows, maybe it'll help. If not, I doubt it would hurt, and if you're still bummed over the birthday thing, we can try something else."

"OK, but not now - I'm not up for list making now. I just want to zone out with the TV, and sip my wine - maybe tomorrow."

"Fine with me - whenever suits you. You let me know, and I'll try to have one of my own done, so we can share and all."

And that was it. I couldn't tell that it improved her mood, but I remembered it, so on my own the next day, I made out my own list - it wasn't easy, as I didn't have any real bucket list items to speak of . . . except a couple of sex fantasies that she knew about and had rejected long ago (MFM, FMF, maybe try anal), winning the lottery, going to the moon - all non-starters for reality. Anna is great in the sack, as long as it's vanilla. She's gorgeous, doesn't look 48. I don't gamble, including lottery tickets, so odds there are long, and I don't have the billions to finance a ticket into space. I hemmed and hawed about putting anything sexual into the list, since I sort of knew that would divert the conversation into my favored territory, and I really didn't want to make her mad, but did want to help her, if I could, to get out of the doldrums. I ended up leaving sex out of it, and substituted going hunting for a large game animal - something I had little interest in really doing, but it sounded like fun when I was in a macho mood.

It was about a week later when Anna brought it up at supper. She asked if I'd made my list, I said I had, we agreed to discuss after dinner.

So, armed with wine for her, Scotch for me, we went over our lists, starting with hers. She wanted to travel to several international spots (do-able), wanted to look up some specific old friends (easy), wanted to get into better shape (I didn't get that one - she's in great shape, gorgeous 34C-30-38 [I checked her clothes for those], damned fine for 48!), wanted to read all of one major author's works and become quasi-expert (she had several nominees along those lines - Shakespeare, Conan-Doyle, that sort of thing). 

We traded list items back and forth, and I encouraged her to start right away with looking folks up and deciding what to put on her reading list. She listened to my list and scoffed at each item, but that was ok - I had no real desire to do any of mine - as I said, life is good. We ended the evening by going online and doing some exploring of websites of tour companies, to kick-start her international travel bug. It turned out great - she was energized, and by the end of the evening, we'd picked a timeframe and viewed a couple of options for an African photo (no killing, fine with me) safari four months down the road (that time needed to do the planning as well as to get past a couple of commitments we'd already made). With her cheered up considerably, I was feeling really good about the whole thing.

The next day she was back to her chipper self, and it remained, with us working on the vacation stuff together, and her starting to track down old friends on line. I was vastly relieved, but not vastly satisfied.

The next week - these things do take time - at dinner again, wine again, some discussion about just how long an African trip should need to be to ensure we didn't cut our hopes short, and whether to go for a South African or an East African kind of safari - there's a difference? 

I finally brought it up.

"Say, I couldn't help but notice, there was nothing about romance or sex on your bucket list. Was that conscious or just the way it came out?"

She paused at that, and I knew I'd struck something, whether a nerve or a gold mine I wasn't sure. "Just the way it came out, why? Your list didn't either - was that on purpose?"

"Yeah, I've gotta admit, I had some things along those lines, but I didn't want to make you feel badly, not quite sure why it would have led to that, but I thought it would, so I left those out."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Uh, I guess the standard stuff, but you've made it clear along the way that you don't have an interest in veering off our pretty conventional life along those lines, so . . . "

"Wait a minute - you're disappointed in our love life?!" she shot back, and I knew I'd hit a nerve. I saw all the signs of the buildup to the eruption, and fought to deflect it.

"I'm not disappointed - you're gorgeous and you're smart and we get along great, and you're fine in the sack, and if you couldn't tell, it takes very little of you to get me all hot and bothered - and hard! I'm just saying that after these years of pretty much the same for both of us, my imagination starts exercising, and that leads to a supply-and-demand function, where a very little initial demand, given no supply, starts to grow, and keeps growing."

"And what do you mean by pretty much the same?" she'd calmed just a bit, not enough, but a start.

"Well, we almost always have sex in bed. We usually manage to mix up some stroking with some oral with some genital-genital intercourse. You always orgasm more than once, which is the best part in my opinion, and a major reason that I really don't want to make this into something more than it is. But you don't dress up to surprise me, you don't really like sexy lingerie, as evidenced by your almost never wearing several things I've bought you over the years - you'll notice I've pretty much stopped even trying there. You're not into pain which is great because neither am I, but you don't like porn (and I agree most of it's awful, but some isn't that bad), you won't talk in bed about where your head is, what turns you on, you certainly don't ask what turns me on, which is perilously close to you don't care what turns me on. We don't do bondage, we don't do costume, we don't do fantasy, and we don't do it with others - watching, being watched, or participating. That's a long list, but I think if you do some research on your own, you'll find that a lot of couples find that exploring outside of a foreplay-intercourse-cuddling regimen is good for them and doesn't cost their relationship negatively, and doesn't mean it's not usually conventional, just that there are times when they spice it up a bit.

"I guess that's what I mean by pretty much the same," I finished, fearing I'd blathered myself into oblivion, or worse.

"I didn't know you were so disappointed," she sniffled, as the tears started.

"Hey, you know I'm not disappointed - I just think you're great and that you have so much potential for even more pleasure, that you're not tapping into, and this is that kind of an area. And, you should know that in all my fantasies, you're the focus, and you're having pleasure - that's what turns me on. And yes, in them I'm having pleasure, too, but it's never just me - it's always you as well."

This was followed by more sniffles, a few more tears, but I could tell she was trying to come to grips with something - I had no idea whether it was how much time she'd give me to clear my things out of the house never to speak to her again, or if this was actually a time I might be right.

I finally followed up, "Listen, take some time, think through this. Then if you're up to it, we can each make up a bucket list for sex. It seems to have helped, doing the vacation planning thing. Let's take a week to do it. If you really, really have nothing whatsoever you've ever wondered about doing, ever seen or read about that caused you some excitement, then ok, come back with an empty list. Meanwhile, I'll come back with three and only three things that I think we could try out that would turn me on just to try and that I think wouldn't threaten our love in any way. And this has nothing to do with the safari - that's on, regardless of where this thread leads.

"OK?" I said after another moment of silence.

"OK, I'll try," she said, quietly, then picked up her wine glass, finished it, and walked away. I cleaned up the kitchen, then found her in the bedroom, lights off, covers pulled up around her, her arms enveloped in her flannel night dress - a clear sign of sexual disinterest - either asleep or feigning sleep.

I went back out of the bedroom, fixed a strong bourbon and water, and found a film noir movie detective thing (no sex) to pretend to watch for an hour, then snuck back in and went to sleep myself, next to a lump appearing to be in the same posture she'd been in earlier.

Fast forward a week - ok, I know this is taking way too long - patience, gentle reader, thanks. I'd made out my list in my head during that earlier conversation, and wondered if Anna had even considered making one. That evening, a Friday, she prepared dinner, nice and delicious as always, and I noticed she was having a bit more wine than was usual for her - nothing too much, neither of us being very heavy drinkers ever, but a bit more.

Dishes cleared, we sat back down at the table, both knowing what the conversation would next be about.

"So, babe, did you get around to making that bucket list we talked about?"

"Yes, but it's like me - not very exciting, I'm afraid," she answered, morosely.

"You're definitely exciting, and I think part of you knows that, if you'd tune into it. But anyway, how do you think we should do this?"

"However you like, I guess," she said, still not opening up at all.

"OK, then, how about if I go first, then you, with our first list item. Then we'll see if we can accept the other's item, and if so, we'll give those two items a try. And then if that works out, after we try those, we'll go to item two after that, and so on to item three - no deadlines, just take it a step at a time, if that."

"OK." 

"So, would you like to go first, or me?"

"You. I'm embarrassed."

"Fine, then, here goes. Please remember, I love you and this whole thing is about that and about being able, I think, to love you even more. OK, my number one is for you to make a concerted effort, for two months, just on the weekends, to be the sexy thing you know that I think you are, not the boring thing you have somehow convinced yourself you are. That means you dress sexy, you take time to pamper yourself so that you feel sexy, you think of ways to convince me that you are, without expecting me to initiate or even to reciprocate - you just do it. It may feel awkward, especially at first, but that's it. This is all on you - if I don't reciprocate or notice, you don't get mad, you don't think less of yourself - you sign up to do this, and you do it." I knew I was going to try my damnedest to make her efforts appreciated, but I didn't want us keeping score - this was something she had to do without expecting a quid-pro-quo.

"Wow." She paused, then, "OK, you're right. I guess. I need to be an equal partner, and I've let myself become a passive one. I'll try - two whole months?"

"Just on the weekends - Friday dinner to Sunday night. That's what the list says, and as you know, lists don't lie," I said, trying to lighten things up. "Naturally, I'm hoping that it'll become both habitual and pleasurable for you, but all I'm asking for is the two months.

"Your turn."

"OK," she said, reading from a sheet of paper she'd unfolded. "David, I want to go skinny dipping in a lake or a pool, just us two, at night."

I resisted rolling my eyes or making any movement at all toward any sign of 'is that all?' or similar emotion. "Great idea, Anna. I have no idea just how to arrange that - I'll have to do some computer searching or something to find that kind of place, or maybe we could house sit for someone with a pool? Anyway, I think that would be great, and I'll figure out how, and we'll do it!"

She seemed relieved at my positive reception, smiled, and took a good swallow of wine. I figured she was probably relieved that I didn't follow up and ask why she wanted to do that, if she thought it would turn her on, or if it was something she thought I'd like. Plenty of time for that later. I refilled her glass, and reached over to take her hand, and I led her down the hallway into the bedroom, and we had fine, as usual, sex - no demands on her to be a sexpot or anything, more like my trying to comfort her that we weren't any less for trying this than we were beforehand.

We slept well, and the next day, being a Saturday, we slept in, or so I thought. I blearily awoke to hearing the shower. She usually showers after working out, but not the very first thing in the morning. I stayed in bed, just thinking about what we'd said the evening before, then grabbed my tablet and started looking for places to night skinny dip. I was lucky - there was an old quarry in the next town over that had been turned into a swimming hole, open to the public. It was summer, so that was a popular venue. I had no idea about night time, but I emailed their "contact us" address and asked if they were open for private events at night. 

By the time I'd gotten that far, I'd heard the shower shut off, and some moments later, Anna emerged, looking great wrapped only in a towel. The towel came down just far enough to shield her private parts, and showcased her nice legs. Her breasts showed a bit of cleavage above the towel, not too much, and the whole thing was sort of rolled to stay together, looking like it wouldn't stay that way for long if suitably encouraged. She had a wonderful smile and was sashaying more than walking, her hips doing that female thing that we males are evolution-wired to key on. 

"Give me a minute - I'm way behind here," I said, scrambling out of bed and passing her on my way into the bathroom. I goosed her as I went by, just enough to send the message, and I immediately smelled that she'd doused herself in something that smelled great. I grabbed my electric shaver, shaved while standing, relieving myself in the john, then jumped in the shower myself, scrubbing all the sites that might not be the freshest, brushed my teeth vigorously, swirled some mouthwash, dried, brushed the hair, and wrapped the damp towel around me, calling her bet, as it were. I think I set about a 5 minute record for all that.

She was still standing there, looking great, but engrossed in looking down at her cell phone when I came back into the bedroom. We've been together long enough for me to know that her being engrossed in her phone is a defense mechanism that relieves her of needing to act. I've seen her at enough cocktail parties, looking at her cell phone rather than engaging anyone in conversation, to know she's hiding behind it in her way. I didn't want an argument, but I didn't want to lose the moment, so I gently, but firmly, took the phone from her hand and laid it down on her bedside table, face down. I was damned if I was going to be beaten out by a phone!

"You look great, and you smell great!" I said, taking her in my arms. We usually went about a week between sex, as in usually 7 days to be exact, but here we were, only hours after our tryst the night before, and I was feeling just as randy - ok, more randy - than I had last night. My dick was making itself known in case there was any doubt, and as I pulled her to me, I knew she could feel it through the towel, trying to intrude. 

"Thanks," she answered, and continued, "so do you. Do you like the short towel look?"

"Oh, yeah!" I said, and reached behind her to cup her bare ass. I leaned down and nuzzled the nape of her neck, something she usually shivers in appreciation to - and she did. "Can you tell?"

"Mmm-hmmm. Is that a bunched up towel pressing into me down there, or are you just happy to see me?" she joked.

"Pretty happy is what you're making me," I answered, and, risking serious damage, I swooped her up into my arms and carried her off to bed. Amazingly, my back survived the over-the-top Galahad move - I do not recommend others try this without being more fit than I am generally!

Somehow, with one hand I pulled back the covers without dropping her. Once abed, I pulled her towel easily apart, leaving her naked and exposed and vulnerable, while I stepped back and dropped my own, leaving me naked and exposed and mostly hard (the carrying her in there part had, admittedly, detracted from my tumescence, but not totally). 

"You shaved!" I exclaimed happily, taking in the sight of her totally hairless sex. I've been manscaping a bit for some time, ever since I noticed that my dick shaft was growing hair that wasn't there when I was in my teens and 20s. That discovery majorly bummed me out - I had no idea my body would take such a turn toward the ugly - or at least in my opinion, dick shaft hair had to be ugly, not to mention distasteful, so to speak. So, as one in a series of battles against aging, I started shaving, then found a place that waxed, and have been pretty hairless since - full scrotal wax, shaft wax where needed, and medium-to-close trimmed above that (it's far from painless, but after a while, it's a mere mild discomfort, and lasts for a good long time). She's never objected, but she's never offered any appreciation either. Once, I asked her if she'd noticed, and she admitted she had, but wouldn't venture an opinion beyond that, saying my bod was up to me - a clear if veiled message that her bod was up to her, and I'd better not be expecting her to follow suit. So, before and since then, she's kept her bush ungroomed, which is fine, since she's blond and the hair there is pretty sparse and soft, compared to others I've investigated - none since we've met, but beforehand I had a pretty active life.

Then I knelt between her legs, tugged them obscenely apart, and took a good long look at the flower of her sex thus presented. I used my thumbs to part her lips, and then rubbed them gently, spreading the welcome wetness from the interior along them. Bending down and, still holding the lips apart, I proceeded to explore her with my tongue, 

It's not like it was unfamiliar territory, but I never cease to be amazed by the female of the species, and Anna is one great specimen of that. I tasted, and tongue-reamed, and finally settled in, having covered the area to my, and from the sounds of it, her, satisfaction. The smooth lips and lack of hair was erotic as hell, just knowing she'd done that for me. And from her reaction, she wasn't regretting it in the least! Starting to thrum near her clit slowly, I kept at it, steadily, circling then focusing on the nub, not speeding up until I felt her squirm beneath me, the first signs of her impending orgasm. The more she squirmed, the faster I thrummed, and pretty soon I was at full speed, and she was gasping, then crying out in her coming. 

"Ah, ahhh!!" she cried, then "so good - now, now . . ." and she pulled me up, reaching between us to grab my cock and pull it into her. This was different - usually we went from a bit of oral to a calm-down phase. And usually she might gasp or even cry out softly, but never actually verbalized. Just that "so good" part ratcheted up my hormonal flow another step. If this was her first chapter of acting sexy for me, I was going to love the next two months, and wondered just what may have gotten unleashed - I might have to up my game just to keep pace!

We fucked, straight and hard, and she came again, and then I flipped over, pulling her on top of me. I grabbed her hips and pistoned her up and down, almost roughly, totally in charge, watching her breasts heave and sway. After a bit of that, she grabbed her breasts and I could see her hands squeezing them - another first! - and soon after that, she came, and so did I - unusually quickly for me, who was usually at least a half hour guy, and here we'd only been at it for maybe 10 minutes! She didn't seem disappointed in my quickness, though I knew she was capable of more pleasure. I was a bit exhausted, I think understandably, and as we disengaged and collapsed back into our standard cuddle position (me on my back, head on a pillow, her head on my chest, my arm around her), she pretty much purred a "Mmmmm, that was nice," and surprising me again, she quickly fell asleep!

She napped for a good hour, while I made breakfast, and we had a wonderful rest of the day, with her dressing up in a sundress - a huge step from her usual Saturday loose sweats - which in turn spurred me to linen trousers and my best sport shirt. I'm not going to detail every tryst we had during those two months, but that Saturday was all around lovely, and we had sex again and fell asleep in each other's arms long before our usual bedtime.

--------------

The next morning, I woke, alone and naked, the sheets somewhere other than on me. I recounted the evening before and smiled at the recollection. I got up, went back through the bathroom routine, grabbed another quick shower, and pulled on a pair of gym shorts, finding Anna in the kitchen. She was at the stove, dressed in only an apron, which managed to both keep her front safe from any spatters and expose her lovely rear end to anyone fortunate to observe, i.e. me. 

"Have I told you how great you look, dressed up like a Vargas pinup?" I asked, putting my arms around her and pressing my reawakening dick into the crevice of her wonderfully bare ass.

"David!" she jumped, and sort of squealed, but not angrily. "I was planning on bringing these in and serving them to you - part of the new, trying to be sexier, me!"

"You're succeeding beyond my wildest dreams, Anna - I hope you know I love you, but I really, really want you to know that I really, really appreciate your going along with this," I said, seriously.

"Well, if yesterday morning was an indicator, I'm not exactly suffering - that was great, by the way - different, but I thought we were on a wavelength or something - not like the usual - which isn't bad, understand - but wow - you felt terrific, and you made me feel terrific, and when you pulled me up to ride you - definitely wow! I didn't mean to fall asleep, sorry."

"No need to apologize. Now I'm really motivated to figure out how and when and where to do that night swim! Or, would you just want to take a weekend and drive to the beach and go for it?"

"Oh, no - the ocean scares me enough in the daytime - too many of those TV nature shows and news reports of shark attacks, I guess. There's no way I'd want to go there at night! You take your time - you said no deadlines, right?"

"Right."

"So, get back in the bedroom, and I'll serve you breakfast in bed, just part of the deal, buster."

"On my way!" I chirped, and headed back, shedding the gym shorts on the way. I propped up some pillows and sat back against the headboard, waiting for her, and stroked my softened dick, not wanting a full erection but not wanting the shy turtle presentation either. Getting some response, and boosting it by thinking about that aproned ass of hers, I was about half hard when she entered, a steaming tray of stuff in her hands. 

She laid the tray over my lap, taking a good look at my swelling cock and smiling before placing the tray over it. Then she plopped down next to me, cross-legged, the apron covering her privates, and picked up a strawberry, dipped it in some cream, and fed it to me. I took it and tasted the sweetness, and said, "Too much here just for me - this is for sharing, right?"

"Oh, ok," she said, and took another strawberry, dipped it in the cream, and did as sexual a job of eating it as I could imagine - major sensuality, her tongue sneaking out to take a bit of the cream off the tip first, definitely a metaphor for semen, and she knew it and knew I knew it. Then pushing the strawberry into her mouth through and past her closed lips, as if to say 'you're going to have to push it into my mouth, but then I'll devour it - your cock - at my leisure.' or something like that - my mind was racing, and my dick no longer needed my hand to stimulate it.

I was gobsmacked by this new, wondrous female who'd inhabited my wife, and must have looked it as I stared at her mouth, then looked up and saw her eyes laughing at me. 

"If that's the strawberry, I'm not sure I'm going to survive a whole breakfast!" I said, a bit breathlessly.

"Well, you'll notice I peeled but didn't slice the banana," she teased.

"Coffee - with extra sugar and cream for a change?" she continued, and I nodded. She poured and spooned and stirred, then held the cup to my mouth and gave me a sip, which I swallowed - it was nice and warm, not too hot to drink - then she took a sip herself and put the cup back down. Leaning forward, she kissed me, and I opened my lips a bit when I felt her tongue probing. To my surprise, then she flowed the drink of coffee she'd taken into my mouth. It was cooler but still warm, and tasted sweeter than I'm used to taking it - not a bad thing at all! The act of sharing the liquid was sexy, and as she pulled away, some of it dribbled down my chin. She quickly leaned back in and lapped it up with her tongue, then took the napkin and dabbed, making sure I was cleaned.

"Maybe later you can clean me up, turnabout and all that," she cooed. 

"Maybe now?" I said, and started to move the tray out of the way.

"No, no - you just finish breakfast - we can play later, but for now, that's just something for you to think about through the day - I've got some errands to run, and you've got a swimming reservation to make!" And with that, she scampered away, leaving me with a hard on under the tray, and a head full of horny, but delightful, frustration.

I ate most of the breakfast - never one to turn down bacon and eggs and toast - and she made one more appearance, from her closet, fully dressed and on her way out the door. She blew me a kiss as she left, and I debated just masturbating my horns away but decided not to - this new Anna was worth waiting for!

After finishing the breakfast, and cleaning up the dishes - the least I could do for her - I went back to the computer and found an email back from the quarry. It said that they would rent out the place for private parties, but that I'd have to either pay more for a lifeguard or sign a release, and so forth. Their calendar showed regular daytime hours, with only two or three night reservations for groups over the next couple of months, all on weekends. It wasn't cheap, especially for just Anna and me alone, but the rate was no doubt for group activities and priced accordingly. I checked the calendar and went ahead, prepaying for a Thursday evening the next week, printed out and signed the release for the lifeguard, then scanned that in and attached it to my email back to them, sealing the deal with my credit card info.

The quarry was a lake - more a large pond, with a beach at one end, and sheer, high quarry walls around the rest, with some lower boulders affording a couple of places to dive in. Their website was well done, and spoke to deep, clear water, spring fed so chilly but daily warmed by the sun during the summer, and so forth. It covered maybe a half acre, so not very big. It had a raft anchored in the middle, a slice of it at the end of the beach netted off for little kids to wade into without getting too deep, etc. There was a snack bar in the summer, but the email said that would be extra to keep open, and we surely didn't want that - I'd just pack a cooler with some wine. All in all, it sounded perfect - no undersea monsters, total privacy, safe swimming, even a bathhouse for plumbing if needed. I was happy to have found it!

Anna was gone most of the day, and I wondered just what all the errands she spoke of were. She returned in the late afternoon, and I greeted her with a hug and relayed the news about the quarry reservation.

"Ooh!" she said, "We're actually going to do this?!"

"Oh, we're going to do it - that is, if you're still amenable," I said, worried that she might chicken out of the whole bucket list thing, and I was nowhere near to the end of that, I hoped.

"Hmm... Well, I'm still ok with it, if it means we keep having as much fun as we've been having lately!"

"Absolutely - that's not only the reason for the deal - it's part of the deal!" I said, and wrapped my arms around her again.

"Tell me more - how do we get in and all - won't there be someone there to let us in through whatever fence they probably have, and won't that mean he - I'm guessing it would be a he - could stick around and watch, whether we wanted that or not?" she worried.

"I took care of that. We agreed I'd pick up a key and get the tour at their closing time in the afternoon, promise to lock up and be back later - that way, there'd be no reason for him to stick around, right? You don't even have to be with me then, and I didn't have to say why I reserved the place, much less with whom or for what activities. So that's the plan, at least."

"Yeah, I guess," she said, obviously still worrying.

"Besides, even if someone watched, they'd be stupid to reveal themselves - it'd mess up the show!" I laughed, hoping to lighten things up.

"Unless they were evil serial skinny dipper rapists!" she countered, not quite serious, but not quite unserious either. "And I don't think you'd enjoy being raped!" she countered, trying the lightening too.

"Listen, these folks have been in business for years, they wouldn't last 5 minutes if they were crooks or evildoers - you can tell your sister that we're going there for a lark, just to swim at night, or whatever, and that'll give us the backup we'd need against the Rob Zombie eventuality. And don't worry - you're the only one I want raping me - as if that could be done!"

We laughed that off, had supper, went to bed, cuddled without sex, and fell into solid sleeps. Life is good when you're sleeping well, that's for sure!

The next days went, nothing to report, really. On Thursday, I picked up the keys and got the tour from the owner/proprietor, including how to work all the lights, his home number to call if there were any problems, and so on. He seemed to want to ask, but thankfully didn't, just why I was willing to pay so much for so little in his view. I didn't offer, but we agreed - after all, I'd prepaid and my credit card had already reimbursed him - and I took the key to the chain lock on the chain link fence that surrounded the quarry on all sides a bit of distance away, inside the parking lot but outside the beach and snack bar and such, securing a perimeter without being obtrusive. It was all working out very nicely.

I packed the chilled wine and some cheese and crackers for snacks in case we wanted them, and after a light supper at home, we headed out at about 9 p.m., just as dusk was yielding to the black of night. It was warm but not stifling. There was a sliver of moon, so it was dark but navigable by the time we parked at the quarry. I unlocked the chain, we went in, and I locked it back behind us. Strolling to the beach, hand in hand, I was feeling turned on, knowing Anna was getting her turn-on bucket item, and suspecting we had good times ahead of us in the water, maybe on the raft, maybe on the beach. I spread our big beach towel, set the wine and such up, shucked off my sandals and shirt, and dropped my shorts, standing nude in the dark. Or sort of dark - we could see each other, but pretty dimly. She had on some really loose jersey shorts and a tank top and looked really good. 

"Looks like you're in a rush," she laughed. "What's the hurry?" I could tell that Anna was eager but nervous. She's not a strong swimmer - thankfully, I am, and used to be a lifeguard in my teen years, so I'm fine around the water, light or dark. I didn't know if her nerves were due to imminent night time swimming or imminent quasi-public nudity, but I'd play along, whatever.

"You're right - this is your list item - want me to get dressed again?"

"No, no - I sort of like you that way, but I'm not ready yet. Let's have a glass of wine and just watch the stars or something."

"You got it," I said, getting us both a healthy pour of the wine. I sat down cross-legged, and she sat down facing me, also cross-legged. I offered a toast to bright stars and not-too-chilly waters, or something lame like that. She laughed, and took a big swallow, and chuckled again.

"Funny toast?" I asked.

"No, not exactly," she smiled. 

"Then what?"

"Oh, nothing."

"No, really - what?"

"Well, when you sit like that, your, uh, penis just retracts. It looks like a turtle shy about coming out of its shell, and that amused me," she answered, still trying to stifle another giggle.

"Ah, sorry about that. You knew when you married me that my knees were at no risk of being bruised if I walked around naked." She was right - I'm not a show-er by any means, and in that posture, I'm a hider if anything.

That brought another laugh, and "Oh, you're plenty for me - it just looks funny that way - you'll have to admit that a dangling scrotum resting on a towel under a retracted penis head barely peeking out aren't exactly things of beauty in most folks' view."

"Well, I do suffer from being in the less attractive gender of the species. You, on the other hand, look lovely sitting there opening your beautiful self to me. Thank you for wearing such revealing shorts," I countered, honestly, watching the exposed pussy through the opening in the shorts. I've got to admit, there's about nothing in the female of the species that is ugly to me, some individuals' attitudes excepted at times. "Want me to get dressed, or at least stand up?"

"No, no," she said, laughing more heartily now, while tugging at her shorts to recapture her modesty. She was really enjoying this, and I stifled my being miffed by figuring if she was going to be in a good mood, that was fine with me, even if I had inadvertently played the buffoon in causing it.

"Well, I'm glad you're having a good time - now, about those stars," I said, and took the opportunity to get out of the turtle posture and into a basic lie down on my back mode, looking up. She joined me, and while it was pretty impossible to keep at the wine, the stars did look fine - lots of them out, no manmade lights to interfere, and the few sounds of the night were non-threatening and natural and soothing. 

We laid there for a while, just gazing. I called out the Big Dipper, and she did likewise with Orion, and we saw the Pleiades, and guessed at what we thought were Venus and Mars. I wasn't going to rush, but was glad when she sat up, drained her wine glass, and announced, "OK, here we go!"

And with that, she shed her clothes and ran full-speed (considering the dark and being barefoot) into the lake, diving forward, and squealing when she came back up a yard or so later. "Yiiii!! You didn't tell me it was going to be this cold!!" she yelled back at me. I'd also stood, killed my wine, then trotted down and copied her entry, finding that yes indeedy it was cold! However, being the macho Alpha Male and all that, I wasn't about to squeal or even complain. I dived in, swam under water past where I figured she was, surfaced, and looked around. She was standing near me, shoulder-deep, laughing again (thankfully).

"It gets better, right?" I said, still feeling the cold, and she admitted it did. In only a few minutes, we were swimming around, not minding the cool water. I swam up to her, and we embraced. I was still easily able to stand, but she was about neck deep by then. I was glad to have her hang onto me for stability.

"A lot better," I said, as I felt my erection filling, bit by bit, nudged between her thighs as I held her up.

"Hmmm... Is that a life buoy, or are you still glad to see me?" she teased, knowing what she was feeling down there.

"I'm thinking that raft looks pretty inviting - you up for a swim out there?" It was a good 50 feet away or so.

Without answering, she broke away and swam toward the raft, a wooden square with a ladder on one side, and some kind of floats underneath, no doubt. I followed, and enjoyed watching her scramble up the ladder, showing me her ass and pussy, probably without thinking, as she arrived and clambered. I followed up the ladder, and pulled her down with me to lie next to each other on the wooden surface. It was far from what I'd call comfortable, but it was there, and so were we, and I didn't hear any complaints.

After a moment, I leaned over and kissed her, gently but with my intentions clear, then laid her on her back and raised her knees and went prone, my feet hanging over the edge of the raft, my face positioned pretty blatantly to signal that I meant to feast on her. She didn't object, but said, "I don't recall saying this was part of my bucket list."

"I'd have to review the testimony, but I don't recall your prohibiting it." And with that, I used my fingers to part the lips and dived in, not voraciously, but determinedly, licking and tasting and working my way up to her clitoris. 

"Mmmmm. No, I must have neglected to . . . oh, yes! . . . address . . . uh-huh! . . . that..." she approximately answered.

I kept at it until she came, lovely as ever, and crying out, much more loudly than usual - I thought this whole being sexy thing was releasing inhibitions she hadn't even recognized were there. I wanted to fuck her then, but I could tell that the boards were going to be murder on my knees, and frankly after the chilly water, I was only part way back to hard, so I took a pass, and after her nice, not overwhelming, orgasm, went back to the cuddle position.

From a distance, I heard, then we heard, soft clapping! I sat up and scanned the beach, saw nothing, then finally spotted a couple, sitting on some rocks, waving. Busted, I waved back. Anna didn't see the humor in the situation that I did. She registered what was going on, and quickly rolled over the side of the raft into the water. "David!" she spat at me, surfacing, "I thought you said this was private!!"

"I thought it was, I laughed," still lying on the raft. The laugh was a mistake, I realized. "Hey, they're so far away, they couldn't really see anything - so we're skinny dipping - they probably came here to do the same. They're just appreciative of our enjoying ourselves."

"That wasn't the deal, and you know it - make them go away!!" she hoarse-whispered-yelled at me, while hanging onto the raft, only her head and hands visible.

"Hey, guys, sorry - private party here - can you find somewhere else?" I yelled to whoever.

"No problem - we'll be moving along, but thanks for the show!" I heard a guy's voice answer, then I could see him, and clearly a woman, move from the rocks, down to the beach near our stuff. Then he continued, "we'll just stay here and keep an eye on your things - you know, so nobody else will take them - until you come on out!" and I could hear him laughing, and her joining in the fun they were having at our expense. 

"C'mon, give us a break," I yelled back, realizing we were in no position to be giving orders.

"Like I said, no problem - we'll even match you!" and with that, I saw him shed his shirt and drop his shorts, then turn to his girl and they whispered a bit, then she joined in, pulling her dress over her head and dropping it, as we could hear her soft laughter. Now there were two naked people on the beach, and us naked in the water. They were obviously in control, and Anna was the only one who was really objecting, but I knew I needed to support Anna if I ever expected to get laid again in this lifetime!

I turned to Anna - we were still far enough away that in the dark it was hard to make out details, but the woman was slim - make that svelte - and the guy seemed in good shape. Anna hadn't missed seeing all this, and I said to her, "hey, we've got to get out sometime, and they seem harmless, just enjoying our predicament. Let's just swim back, then gather our stuff and go, ok?"

"But, we're naked!" she moaned.

"Yeah, I've noticed - but do you have a better suggestion? They're so far away, they couldn't see much, right?"

"They could see enough! And I was almost screaming, if you didn't notice, damn you!"

"Sorry - I thought you were having a good time," I joked back.

Finally, she chuckled at that, and got over her being miffed, everything considered, not having much choice in any of this. "Yeah, I was. That's why I can't face them."

"Well, we're going to have to, come on - let's get it done - we'll get out, gather the stuff, and be gone - no introductions, just keep moving, ok? If anything, you should be proud - she's no doubt jealous if she's aware of anything that was going on anyway."

"OK," she said, not convinced. I dropped into the water and we started to swim back. We were both breast-stroking it, and as we neared, I could make out that the girl had dark hair, looked maybe 5'8" or taller, with very nice firm, smallish for her frame breasts. As we got even closer, I saw that she was sporting a Brazilian wax down below, and had some kind of mark, probably a tattoo on her hip. She looked to be in her 20s, but I'm lousy on women's ages. He looked a bit older but still young - I guessed late 20s or beyond, in good shape, and sporting a dong that hung down impressively, certainly bigger than mine soft, and thankfully, obviously soft. I guess he was having such a laugh it hadn't turned his other responses on.

We finally got to waist deep swimming, and I stood up, offering Anna a hand. She took it and stood, but crossed her free arm over her breasts protectively. She wasn't about to give more than demanded. We continued to walk, and Anna called out, "OK, seen enough?" as we walked forward. I realized my dick was now going to be shown to the lady friend, and knew that the chilly water and swimming had me as shrunken as I ever was - oh well, I wasn't here to impress her, just to get Anna out of this.

We emerged, watching them intently watch us.

"OK, we'll be going now - we just snuck out here to have a swim, and you beat us to it, and we couldn't resist watching you, uh, having a good time out there!" the girl said, bending to pick up her clothes. Her boyfriend didn't move, just watched Anna, who was now struggling, having let go of my hand, to shield her pussy from his sight.

"Derek," the girl said to the guy, "Come on - we said we'd go, let's go."

"Uh, don't you all want to just stay and we can all party?" the guy said.

"Thanks, but I don't think so. We rented the place for this evening, so it's really you who should go," I replied, seriously now, not wanting to pick a fight, but figuring I could either take him or at least make him regret starting one if that was where this was going. We'd made it up onto the beach and were standing next to our towel and clothes, and near their pile of clothes as well.. I wondered what would happen next, but I was also not going to be the first to grab my clothes - I might not be the stud he was, but I wasn't about to cover up and admit it. I think if you're a guy, you'd get that - if you're a woman and don't, sorry.

"Oh - we figured you were just sneaking in like us," he said, never taking his eyes off Anna. His dick, I noticed, had decided to join the fun, and was growing, lengthening a bit and even starting to bend up a bit. "Hey, I've got some good weed - wanna bit, call it a peace offering since we crashed your party?" Without waiting for an answer, he bent over and pulled a joint and a BIC lighter out of the shorts he'd dropped, lit up, and offered it to Anna. Not exactly shy.

Anna and I may have done a bit of that in our younger days, but we'd left that long ago, and I could see by Anna's shocked face that she was in no mood to take him up on the offer.

"No thanks, not really our thing," I told him, although I was wishing it were otherwise. "In fact, I think your girl's right - it's just time for you to go."

"OK, man, sorry. We could have had a really good time," he said, picking up his clothes in his hand but making no move to dress, not letting the joint go, and pretty much just displaying. He took another long, appreciative - pretty much leering - look at Anna, and I saw that his dick had grown some more, and as I looked at Anna, I saw her looking at it, with a curious look in her eye. By that time, it was definitely protruding towards her, and swelling. Damn him, I thought. But then I realized I also was getting my share of watching his girl - she was enjoying smiling at me, realizing our predicament I guess. She seemed unfazed by being naked to us, and her nipples were small, tight, and what I took to be a bit excited. As I looked back at her face, she deliberately took a long look at me, from head to not quite toe - focusing on my own equipment. That served to motivate my dick to get in the game. Best defense and all that, I gave my Kegels a squeeze and knew that I'd started swelling a bit, as well as lengthening - nothing to rival this Derek guy, but enough to show her I was more than I'd initially appeared emerging from the cold water - at least that. She took that in and looked back up at me, smiling again, obviously saying yes, she got the message and had enjoyed it. Or so I figured. One more kegel, one more half size increase, and I figured it was enough . . . for now.

"Do you want to stay, babe?" I asked Anna, and that snapped her out of it.

"No, no. I'm ready to go." she answered, not quite as quickly as I'd expected. Then she bent over and picked up her clothes. I guess she forgot the mechanics of the move, because she dropped her arms to grab the clothes, displaying her breasts and her pussy as she straightened back up. She stood for a moment, just showing herself to the couple, and I was amazed. Not only did she look great - no surprise to me - but she seemed to be downright flashing them, returning their nude display tit for tat, so to speak. Derek's cock gave another bit of a surge, and I watched her watch it. Not only was I the first guy to see her shaved pussy earlier that day, but now I was one of three others to have that treat. What was going on? I registered, knowing but being so amazed, it hadn't really sunk in yet. 

It was silent as she deliberately stepped into her shorts and pulled on her shirt. Derek's girl pulled her dress back over her head and let it drop. It was not much more than a v-neck shirt in terms of coverage, coming down just below her crotch, and so thin that I could see her nipples' outline through it. They were definitely still hard - was she turned on? I hoped so. That left Derek and me naked. We were both at about half mast by then, having been treated to the show of female charms so up close and clearly. Yes, he was still the size guy, and I was still on the growing curve, and I saw Anne still checking out Derek, and was relieved to see that his girlfriend was still looking intently at my equipment, still smiling (at least not laughing, right?). Finally, Derek said, "Ah, thanks - we'll be going. Nice to meet you, and thanks for not totally freaking out. If you ever want to get together, I work at the ... restaurant - c'mon by most evenings and we'll have a drink or something after work - I sort of think we could all get along."

He was persistent if nothing else, but at least at that point, the two of them walked away, hand in hand, him naked, his cock leading the way. As he turned, Anne's view of his enviable cock was replaced by his displaying those twenty-something hard buns that women seem to think a lot of. They climbed out of sight over some boulders to someplace they obviously knew about that would no doubt lead through the fence. They were sharing the joint as they left, and I hoped they'd be ok if they were driving on. 

I was still naked, and so pulled on my shorts, tucking my half hard dick inside carefully. I turned to Anna, "Want to get back in the water?"

"No, I think we did enough there," she said, and we headed back to the car.

When we got to the car, I put the wine and other stuff in back and we sat quietly in the front for a moment.

"Sorry that didn't go as planned," I said, quietly. She surprised me yet again that evening, grabbing me and kissing me, hard, her tongue sneaking into my welcoming mouth. We embraced, and I snuck my hand down through the leg opening of her shorts to find that she was wet - really wet. I was almost instantly hard, thanks to her kissing and that discovery, and I pulled away quickly, got out, ran around and pulled her out of the other door - she didn't resist at all. Tugging at her, I bent her over the hood, tugged down her shorts, pulled off her top, and dropped my shorts as well. I was hard and she was wet, and it was dark, and we fucked, urgently. I'm a bit taller, so by the time we got really going, her feet were off the ground and I was holding her thighs around my hips as I drove into her pussy. She was grabbing onto the hood, her arms splayed out, her breasts pressed into the still-warm metal, and she came, quickly and helplessly, crying out in whimpers.

I slowed, backing a step to let her ease back down onto her tiptoes, but I hadn't come and didn't disengage. "Damn," I said, "that was fantastic!"

"Yeah, what got into you, big guy?" she answered, dodging. 

"No, what got into You?! Besides me, of course."

"Uh, I don't know - I think you were just hot for it."

"Nice try - was it swimming naked? We hardly got going at that - of course, the raft was nice," I said, remembering that part.

"Maybe," she answered, really avoiding now.

"Or maybe it was getting seen? And then having to expose yourself to those two? I'm sure they both enjoyed seeing you naked - Derek sure did! And shaved, yet!"

"Oh, I'd forgotten that!" she shot back, looking mortified. "I did that just for you, and . . . oh!"

I She didn't answer, but it had gotten too difficult to remain attached, so we slipped apart, my cock still pretty hard, but starting to sag as her evasiveness seemed to be taking over.

"Or maybe it was watching Derek's hard buns as he walked away from us, or more likely watching his cock - too big not to notice to begin with, then getting bigger as he watched you. Was that it, did you get off on knowing you were turning on a strange guy? Hey, I'm not mad or anything - I won big time tonight, just having you like that - I just want to know how you tick, 'always have, as you know." And that part was true - I'd always been the one wondering what worked for her, and she the one who never quite gave much of an answer.

"Maybe a little bit of all of that - I don't know - I just got hot, both during and then especially after, while we walked back here, running it over in my head. And you, kind sir, were just what I needed - gracias! And what about you? You weren't intimidated at all, which I loved, but it was more than that, right?"

"Yeah, I think a little bit of it all as well. I loved getting you to loosen up a little and even come out here for the swim, and then I loved getting to get you off there on the raft, and then I think I've got streaks of both exhibitionist and voyeur in me, so standing naked watching them naked watching us and all that - I was definitely turned on by the time they left, so gracias yourself!

"In any case, I'd call that an eventful evening - ready to go home?"

"Mmm-hmm," she answered. Then, taking a hold of my still mostly hard cock and giving it a squeeze, "It seems we've still got something to take care of - and home seems like just the place right now." We each re-dressed, then, calmer, pulled out of the lot and headed back. On the way, we were both silent, thinking, then she sort of giggled and said, "He did have nice buns, didn't he."

And I said, "and that's not all."

And she said, "no, it sure wasn't," and giggled a bit more. I took her hand, squeezed it, and we drove home holding hands like newly smitten teenagers.