One Swinging Summer (9 page)

"You are helping."
     "How so?" I asked between kisses.
     "By letting me cater to you. I don't get to do for others often."
     "Cater all you want, baby."
     He laughed at that, and topped off my coffee. "You, sir, are spoiling me."
     "It is a break for me too, you know." He said, leaning his forehead against mine. "You said this is an escape for you, coming here. It is an escape for me, too. Having you here on the weekends brings something very pleasant and playful into my life. I like it. So, let me spoil you. Stop worrying about if you can help, and enjoy."
     He didn't need to ask me twice. Breakfast was great, he even had bacon.
     After breakfast we curled up again on his couch, pulled blankets around us, and pretended the outside world did not exist. After a couple of movies, we dragged ourselves off of the couch to get ready for dinner.
     I showered in the downstairs bathroom, as the upstairs was still in a state of remodeling. The toilet and sink upstairs were functional, but the gorgeous claw-foot tub had not been hooked up yet and was currently being used to store boxes of tile and other bathroom equipment. That was probably a good thing though, it looked like one of the old claw-foot tubs, with the high back, made from the porcelain material that held the heat of the water for hours. He said he got it from a house that was torn down, and I'm not sure, had it been functional, that he would have ever gotten me out.


When we were presentable, we headed to the marina. The band was different this time, but almost as good. Our table was farther from the band and closer to where the boats parked in slips lined up against a dock. Boaters would park there and come to the restaurant to eat, or to pick up some supples in the bait shop. There were plenty of people to watch as we ate. Small fishing boats with one or two men, ski boats loaded with teenagers, their own music blaring. Sometime families loaded onto pontoons would slowly cruise by as well.
     Caleb had gotten a parking spot that backed up right on the lake, so when we finished eating and walking around we just lowered his tail-gate and sat facing the water. The music from the band was quieter here, so we could talk without yelling.
      We talked about work and I told him a story about one of the guys that I have served papers to. The state was trying to deliver child-support papers to this guy, and he was ignoring everything they had mailed out. They gave them to me, with his home address, a bad picture, and a notation of a bar where his ex said he liked to hang out. I tried him at home first, and a girl in her mid 20's answered the door. She said that he was not home, worked a lot, and was hard to catch actually here at the house. She told me that he drove a little black pick-up truck, and unless I saw that truck, he was not home. I gave her the benefit of the doubt the first time.
     I included him on my daily route, and I did not knock again for a while because I never saw the pick-up. One day when my case load was light and I could devote a few hours to this guy, I drove slowly by his house and copied down the two license plates on the cars in the driveway. I parked down the street from him, where I had a good view of the house, and used my laptop to check public data and see who owned the cars. One was registered in a female name, and the other was registered to the guy I was looking for.
     As I sat watching the house, a guy who looked like the picture I had came out onto the porch, got the mail, and went right back inside. 'Oh good, he is home.' I thought. I drove the little bit to his house and knocked. The same girl said he was not here. When I mentioned that I had just seen a man come out and get the mail, she told me that I was mistaken. I left without pushing the point. There is no law that says you have to tell anyone when you are home, after all, I wasn't law enforcement. But I was smart enough to know she was lying, so I made other plans.
     That Saturday night, I recruited a friend to go with me to the bar that his ex had said he went too often. She and I ordered drinks and when the waitress brought them, we asked about him like we were old friends. "Hey, where has Ed been lately?" I asked.
     "Ed?" She asked.
     "Yeah, Ed. About this tall, dark black hair, but with really blue eyes, he is dating a girl, short, blonde, you know...Ed, he is in here all the time. We were supposed to meet them here tonight."
     "Oh yeah, Ed and Stacey. I know them." She stated, remembering. "You're in the wrong bar. Tonight they are down at Sally's. You know, the karaoke bar. Tonight is Ed's bachelor party, they are doing a joint bachelor/bachelorette party there."
      We pretended that we had gotten the wrong information, and quickly left. We pulled into Sally's down the street and sure enough, there was the car that had been in his driveway the day he got the mail. We walked inside, acting half drunk, yelling "Where is the groom?" And "Sorry we are late. Where is he hiding?" Someone yelled out a "He's over here, Woohoo," and I walked over to him and dropped his papers in front of him on the bar. We walked right back out as quickly as we had walked in.


As we left we heard the lady who kept telling me that he wasn't home say loudly, "Wait, you have a kid? You've been having me tell her you weren't home over a kid? You said it was old credit cards."
     Caleb said, "At least neither one of them were naked," and told me a story about being called out on a domestic fight, only it was the woman who was drunk and being unreasonable, and was actually running from the cops, down the street, butt naked.
     "People are crazy."
     We talked, laughed and people-watched 'til after dark. Most of the time Kyle was either holding my hand, or he had his arms around me as I leaned back on his chest, watching the water and the ducks. After a while he whispered in my ear, "Come on, let's head back. I want you in my bed, naked, right now."
     "Now you're talking," I said as I wriggled out of his arms and jumped down from the tail-gate. "If only this place was empty, it would be fun to break in your truck. We haven't done that yet. I would love to be under you right here, backed up to the water, under the stars. You have a blanket for padding. Darn people around."
      "I like the way you think. Let's go find a spot."
     "What? Really?"
     "Maybe, there has got to be place around here somewhere. An old make-out spot or an empty boat launch ramp, let's drive around."
     "Oh, I do know one. You saying empty boat launch reminded me. Before they made this marina there was small park where the local neighbors could launch their boats. It's not used much anymore. I think I can still find it. It's about 5 miles or so south."
     "Lead on, navigator."
     After about 15 minutes, two wrong turns and lots of laughter, I yelled, "Wait, back up, that's it." He aimed the truck where I had pointed, and the headlights illuminated a small driveway leading off of the main road. The trees had grown over much of it, but there was a small boat launch sign that I had almost missed in the dark. It was part of the state park system, so it had originally been painted in glow-in-the-dark paint on the wooden sign. Most of the paint had worn off, but it was the reflection of the sign when the headlights passed over it that had caught my attention.
     He drove slowly down the gravel road until the small one-lane road opened up, closer to the water, into a small park. The gravel road led down to the boat launch, and then circled a small parking lot where you were supposed to leave the truck and boat trailer while you were out on the water. The road then came back up and joined itself again, for the drive back out. If you looked at it from above, the gravel road looked like a needle, if you started at the tip you could drive up the length of the needle, around the hole where you thread the needle, and then right back down the length of the needle again, until you drove off the tip back onto the main road.
     The fact that the road was one lane and surrounded by tall trees with the branches hanging down seemed to cut the whole park off from the rest of the world. Once we got down to the water and backed the truck up like we were planning to launch a boat, it felt like we were the only people for miles. When we had first turned off at the glowing sign, we passed an open swing-arm gate that had a sign on it saying that this part of the state park closed at 10 PM.  It was already 9:30. "We've got to be quick, unless that sign no longer means anything." I said, already sliding out of the passenger seat and heading toward the tail-gate.
     "Only one way to find out," Caleb said, as he grabbed the blanket he carried behind the seats, and threw it down in the bed of the truck. The truck had a camper cover over the bed, so once you climbed in farther than the tail-gate, you had to watch your head. It wasn't the 'under the stars' view that we had from sitting on the tail-gate, but it would offer some kind of protection if anyone snuck up on us.
     We left the tail-gate down, both for quick entry and exit, and also to be able to see the water. It was rather windy out, so the lake water lapped the shore loudly, sounding a bit like the ocean. Since speed was of the essence, and part of the fun, I had my jeans off before Caleb was all the way inside the truck. "That's my girl," he grunted at me, as he struggled to get his jeans down as well. I had kicked mine off completely, but he just dropped his down to his ankles. I had left my panties on though, to give him something to do, and I felt him slide them down with one hand, as he balanced himself over me with the other.
     Our kisses were hot and wild, with all the jean and panty struggling, and I felt like I was back in high school, fogging up the windows again, only this time the ending was assured. And this time we were both bottom-half naked instead of just me being topless. He entered me hard and fast, and I heard myself grunt as he drove into me. I raised my feet to the ceiling of the camper, and used them for leverage to grind myself against him, my hands squeezing his butt, as I met him thrust for thrust. It must have been the naughty feeling of doing it somewhere technically public, and the possibility of being caught any second, that made me so horny. I came quickly, and loud. My coming brought him closer to the brink, and as I said, "Yes, baby, oh yes," I felt him pour himself into me.
     He collapsed on me, most of his weight held on his own elbows, and I grabbed him behind his head and pulled his mouth to mine and kissed him as deeply and quickly as we had just mated. Then I hugged him tight, pulling more of his weight onto me, enjoying the feel of him as our hearts stopped racing and our breathing returned to normal.
     He was just rolling off of me a few minutes later when we caught the first glimpse of headlights coming our way, bouncing on the gravel road. I sat up and peeked out the camper shell window. "Oh shit, it's a park ranger, see the bar lights on the truck? Or a cop. Hurry, hurry." I've never gotten dressed so fast in my life. Thankfully I had kept my bra and shirt on the whole time. I think I may have put my panties back on inside out, but they were on, as a large male shadow parked the truck and got out, heading toward us on foot. By the time he reached the front of the truck, I had my jeans on and pulled up.
     I heard him call out to us from the front of the truck. Caleb answered back, "Hang on," and climbed out of the truck by way of the open tail-gate, fully dressed, and met the ranger half way up the truck. That bought me a few more seconds, enough to actually fasten my jeans and pull my sex-wild hair into a quick bun. I slid out of the truck as well, so the ranger could see I was OK, and here of my own free will. It obviously wasn't his first day, as he asked us some minor questions, pretending to be totally oblivious to what I'm sure he knew we had just been doing. And it was definitely a park ranger, not a town cop. He let us know that he was here to lock up the gate we had seen on our way in, and informed us that we had the length of time it took him to check the restrooms in the park area to clear out.
     We just said, "Yes, sir," and as the ranger walked away and got into his truck, we closed up the truck bed and got into ours. We passed his truck in the parking lot as he was finishing his check of the restrooms, and we headed back down the gravel road, trying to stifle our laughter, as the ranger's truck followed us out of the park. We turned onto the main road, and he stopped to lock the gate. "That was close." I said.
     "Yeah it was," he grinned at me in the dark of the cab, "but we broke in the truck, just like you asked. I do aim to please."
     "I've noticed that about you," I grinned right back at him, and we went back to his place.
     Sunday morning brought more coffee on the balcony and another great breakfast. This time we got ready early and spent the day walking around the Peach Festival. Peach ice cream, peach tea, and fresh-picked peaches by the crate. I love farm fresh peaches, the smell of them, the juice running down your chin, the slurp sound when you try to catch each drop of juice in each luscious bite. The warm sun, the great company, it was another perfect day.
     I dreaded Monday morning, more so than usual. I mentioned that fact to Caleb, or whined about it really, and he offered one more night. "I told you, let yourself out in the morning. Just because I have to get up early doesn't mean you do. Sleep in, lock up. This time you have your car in my driveway so no excuses."
      "Are you sure?"
     "I wouldn't offer if I wasn't sure. Besides, that means I get to sleep next to you for one more night, so really, I am just being selfish. Please stay."
     So I did. And when Caleb's alarm went off way too early Monday morning, I got to stay burrowed deep under his covers and got kissed goodbye on my forehead. Hours later when I woke up, I stretched in his bed, padded downstairs to make some coffee, and found it already made. A fresh pot sitting in the coffeemaker, set on warm, with a little note propped up beside the pot that said, "Good morning sleepyhead. Enjoy. I'll call you later."
      Enjoy is exactly what I did. I poured a cup and drank it all alone on his upstairs balcony, watching the deer. I turned his note over so that I could leave him one on the back. I wrote, "Thank you," put on a coat of bright red lipstick, and kissed the note, leaving a perfect red lip print. Then I showered in his shower, made myself some toast, and headed off to work, locking his house behind me. It was the best Monday morning I had had in a long time.