Message-ID: <37175asstr$1025892603@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <mmtwassel@aol.com> From: mmtwassel@aol.com (mat twassel) X-Original-Message-ID: <20020705095806.05549.00001091@mb-de.aol.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 05 Jul 2002 13:58:06 GMT Subject: {ASSM} Mat Twassel: Lake Jeptha (mf rom) rp Date: Fri, 5 Jul 2002 14:10:04 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2002/37175> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: newsman, gill-bates Dear Reader, If you like this story, please take a moment to examine http://Calendar.atEROS.com A subscription site of very modest cost (about 10 cents a day) Calendar.atEROS features daily moments of erotica, many of them illustrated, and a weekly story of exceptional quality. Thank you. Mat Twassel ============== Lake Jeptha by Mat Twassel ============== The best sex I ever had? We've had so much good sex. I guess we've been lucky that way. Can't I name a favorite book, instead? Or a piece of music? I always like to think the best sex is yet to come. I like to look ahead. But I like to remember, too. We were staying at a little cabin on a lake in Michigan. Lake Jeptha. Our daughter Annie was about four or five, and Laura's parents were along. They frequently accompanied us on summer vacations in those days. The start was somewhat inauspicious--when we arrived, a dark snake was sunning on the cabin's porch, right in front of the door. Laura's mom was not pleased. I was more concerned that one of the screens didn't fit right, and mosquitoes could stream in at will. It was probably not a good time for Laura's mom--she was upset about her husband's drinking. He'd promised to stop, but she was sure he had several bottles stashed in his tackle boxes. I'm not much of a fisherman, but I enjoyed being in the boat. Laura's dad took me out one afternoon. So peaceful! The boat drifting through the soft shadows. Dragonflies shimmering in the sun. Birds twittering in the cool green forests. Laura's dad caught several fat fish. He put them in a wire basket which trailed alongside the boat. My job was to watch this fish cage. I'm not sure what I was supposed to look for, but whatever it was, I didn't see it. When we got back to our little pier, the basket had opened up somehow, and all the fine fish were gone. "I was going to let them go anyhow," Laura's dad said, "But I wanted to show them to Wiggle." He called Annie Wiggle, which was short for Wiggle-Pants, a name he had invented. We called her BooBoo by that time, earlier nicknames such as Ooh-Ums and Prairie Puff having faded away. When Richard was born, Laura's dad named him Jiggle-Pants. "Wiggle and Jiggle," he liked to say. He was a nice man. He's been dead a number of years now-- too much smoking. As you might expect, with her parents in the little cabin, Laura wasn't too eager for lovemaking. We did go out on a number of long walks around the lake, stopping frequently for kisses and such, and we often strolled with our hands in each others' pockets. The strain of ever-increasing desire was kind of sweet. I think Laura got as hot as I did, but we didn't actually find a good place for fucking. One time I thought we might do it. While jogging earlier that day, I'd spotted a secluded spot out past an apple orchard, at least a mile from anywhere. "There's somewhere I want to show you," I told Laura, and we went walking. About halfway there a huge storm came up. It sounded like whispering or whimpering at first--we didn't know what it was. And then we could hear the trees rattling and the temperature dropped ten, twenty degrees just like that. The sound got louder all the time. Then we could see the leaves fifty yards down the path being pelted by the rain, and we turned around. "Better go back," we decided. About that same instant the first raindrops hit us. For a second we thought, "This isn't so bad," and then Whoosh! an avalanche of sharp wild water. We ran. The rain was almost icy, and it soaked us in no time. We stopped running--just strolled down the road--way beyond wet. Sometimes lightning cracked, and we shivered, and we tried a few kisses that way. We were still ten minutes from the cabin when an old man from a house down the road pulled up next to us in his blue Mercedes. He opened his window a tiny crack. "Do you kids need a ride?" he yelled. It was raining so hard we couldn't hear him at first. We stepped nearer, and he rolled his window down a little more, and I'm sure got soaked for his kindness. "A ride!" he said, "Come on, get in." "Oh no," we answered. "We'd just get your car all wet." The wind was howling and we must have looked miserable. He insisted, and we felt, I think, that it would be rude to turn him down. So we got in. Almost immediately the windows were all steamed up. I don't think the man could see anything; I feared he'd drive us into the lake. But he must have known that road pretty good--he got us home in moments. It was fun toweling each other off inside the cabin, but in a way I regret that the man in the Mercedes had come along while we were kissing in the rain. Sometimes during the days, Laura and I went swimming. Laura did most of the swimming. She's an excellent swimmer, so graceful, smooth, sleek. She loves the water. I rowed the boat. I'm almost as bad at rowing as I am at swimming, but I managed to keep near enough to her without clunking her with an oar, and she swam all the way around the island-- that's probably more than a mile. Laura was tired but happy when she was done. It was fun helping her climb into the boat. She was chattering with cold, and I wrapped her in beach towels. I would have like to make love with her out there, but I guess we were nervous about fishermen with binoculars, and besides, Laura was a little anxious to be getting back to Annie, though in those days Laura's mom made a wonderful baby-sitter. Annie loved playing in the sand near the dock. She caught tiny frogs--about the size of her fingernails--and she made a home for them in a yellow plastic bucket. Laura's dad found a piece of screen for the roof. Annie picked grass for the frogs to feast upon and bed down in come evenings. As the week went on, Annie caught dozens of these frogs, and she gave them all names. She pretended, I think, to be able to tell them apart. At the end of the week, last thing before we left, she let them go, one by one. "Be good," she said to each one before releasing him into the tall grass. The snake that we saw on the porch never came back, but we did see another snake, a shrill black water snake, wiggling along the top of the water near the pier. We made sure not to tell Laura's mom about that. The shore there wasn't the best place for swimming. The bottom was squishy soft, and tangles of underwater weeds could catch your ankles. Laura's mom was sure her toes were getting nipped by fish. Mostly she stayed on the shore and shouted softly at the dogs which came around to play with Annie. The sand was nice though--soft and firm at the same time. One midnight Laura and I slipped out for a moonlight swim. "Do you think that snake will be around?" I asked Laura. "Probably sleeping," she told me, playfully touching my penis through my swimsuit, making me instantly hard. Our light little words seemed to fill the air, and we started whispering. We stepped into the water, teasing each other with touches and kisses. The slightest splashes seemed so loud, so noticeable, as if all of nature knew we were going to take our suits off. But we did anyway. So cold--that midnight water; so richly dark and solidly fluid. We hugged and kissed and pressed each others' skin, gripping now, wanting all of each other, instantly, fully, forever. Moonlight gleamed upon the water, and I was sure someone in a cabin across the lake could see us clearly, know of our nakedness and of our carnal intentions, but I didn't care. We scampered up onto the sand, quickly spread a towel. Laura lay down, and it didn't take me long to settle myself between her legs, to be deeply fully inside of her. "You're so beautiful," I said. It was true. The moonlight full on her face was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Never before had we made love outside. It was strange. And lovely. Her body seemed to be one with the earth. The give and take of it was so special--something completely outside of my experience. "Oh, honey," I said, fully losing myself there. I don't usually say anything. Laura came then, soft as moonlight, her sweet tugs pure as perfect song, and I knew we'd made a child. "We should name him Jeptha," I whispered. Laura smiled. I think she knew, too, that she had conceived. It turned out to be true. Laura was pregnant. Alas, she miscarried after four months. Our happiness turned so quickly sad. There was a good and proper ending, though: Richard came along late the following October. ============== Lake Jeptha by Mat Twassel ============== Mat's Erotic Calendar at http://calendar.atEros.com -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+