The Lake

Fishing was about the last thing she wanted to do, but she had made up her mind, in the early-morning hours, to go with them today. If she missed two days in a row, they might suspect something was amiss.

Something was amiss, all right. Every muscle in her body ached when she pushed herself up. Her insides felt battered.

Moaning, Leigh limped to the chair by the window. Her nightgown was draped over it. She lifted the gown and inspected it. It was dry, but dirty. She wadded it up and made her way to the dresser. She hid it at the bottom of a drawer. She could do her own laundry, later, and take care of it. Nobody would be the wiser.

In the mirror, her hair was a straggly mess. She combed out the worst of the snags and brushed it. Sand sprinkled her shoulders.

Back at the bed, she brushed sand and bits of leaves and other debris off the pillow and bottom sheet. She found a small, stiff place on the sheet. She guessed it was dried semen. Checking herself, she found some flaked in her pubic hair, and a patch of it on her inner thigh that felt tight and looked like skin peeling from a sunburn. She left it there and made the bed.

She took her robe from the closet, put it on, and went to the door.

Mike, in the kitchen, was pouring coffee into a thermos. “And how are you this fine morning?” he asked.

“Great,” Leigh said. “A little stiff from canoeing yesterday.” She tried her best not to limp on her way to the bathroom.

Inside, she hung her robe on the doorknob. She looked at herself in the full-length mirror. Her breasts were a little red. Otherwise, none of the damage showed. Turning around, she looked over her shoulders. Her back was all right except for a few faint red marks on her buttocks where she had lost the scabs from her scrapes at the demonstration.

The cop dragging her.

That seemed like years ago.

It seemed like it had happened to someone else.

She made the water as hot as she could stand and stepped under the shower. The spray beat down on her. It felt wonderful. Sighing, she stretched her sore muscles. Then she slicked herself with soap. She scrubbed between her legs to make sure she got all the semen off.

Probably more inside, she thought.

There must’ve been a gallon last night.

Four times.

Three, not counting the mouth.

No wonder I ache.

Even her cheeks felt sore.

What a night.

The memories of it rushed through her mind, triggering fresh desire.

She couldn’t wait to see him again.

She began to shampoo her hair.

Before parting, they had agreed to meet at three o’clock where the channel from Wahconda entered Goon Lake. He said he knew of a secret place to take her, a place where no one could see them even in daylight. It sounded terrific. She hoped she wasn’t too sore to enjoy it.

Her mind was full of Charlie as she finished her shower, dried, and returned to her room. She wondered what time he would be leaving in his boat to take the baskets over to Goon and Willow. Maybe she would see him. The possibility made her heart race. She parted her hair in the middle, brushed bangs down over her forehead, and gave herself a ponytail. She wanted to wear her good white shorts, but decided to save them for the rendezvous. She put on her cutoffs instead, and a faded blue T-shirt.

Heading down to the pier with Mike and Jenny, she thought she had never felt quite so fine. In spite of her aches. The morning air was sweet with pine. The breeze caressed her. The calm blue lake shimmered with sunlight.

“You’re looking pretty chipper this morning,” Jenny said.

It showed? “Guess it’s the fresh air,” she said, and stepped down into the boat.

When the gear was aboard, Mike steered the boat out around the pier. Then he asked if Leigh would like to take the controls. “Sure,” she told him, and stepped to the helm. “Where to?”

“Anywhere you want.”

Opening the throttle, she swung the boat northward. She watched the shore. Soon, she saw the opening of the inlet where Charlie had taken her. When the boat was directly across from it, she glimpsed the beach.

She felt the sand against her back, Charlie pounding into her.

A few more hours…

In the sunlight, they would be able to see each other.

Near the north shore, she turned the boat to the east. The foreboding she used to feel along this side of the lake was gone. Approaching an old dock with broken planks dangling toward the water, she searched the woods until she spotted a shack hidden among the trees. Was this Charlie’s place? Probably not. She suspected that he lived farther down, maybe even along the eastern shore.

“Where we going?” Mike asked, appearing at her side.

“How about between those two islands?” she suggested, pointing at the patches of woods far ahead.

“Looks good to me,” Mike told her.

Yesterday morning, Charlie had said that he’d seen her water-skiing. Well, she’d been skiing over much of the lake, but the nearest she got to the eastern shore was when she circled those two islands. Maybe that’s when Charlie spotted her.