Description

Skinny Dipping Turned Erotic, by Jezebel Rose

It was only spring, but it had been a sweltering and humid day. What I really wanted to do after getting home from work was to go for a swim. However, it was spring. The council rules said that the local swimming pool opened for the summer season. A heat wave during spring did not count. Rules are rules. Also, bureaucrats are idiots, but the pool stayed closed.

I was sulking around the place after dinner when a friend dropped over. Mary was also hot, sticky, and desirous of a nice refreshing dip in some water. She also had an idea.

“Why don’t we cut across the park to the river and have a dip in that old swimming hole,” she suggested.

“For one reason, the council has posted no swimming signs,” I complained.

“That’s only to force people to use the pool, and the pool isn’t open. They’re not going to enforce the rule right now.”

Mary had a point there.

 

“Um, what about the riff-raff that usually hang out there?” I asked.

“Both the riff and the raff are rather young. They are there after school. At this time of the evening, they’ll be at home watching TV.”

I conceded that Mary might have the right idea. It may not be an excellent idea, but in this weather, it was the right one. We slipped on our bikinis and headed out.

OK, so it seemed to have turned into a perfect idea. There was no one around, and the water was crisp and refreshing. Mary, being Mary, had to push it a little.

“Skinny dipping?” I nearly shrieked at her. “Are you crazy? We are out in public. What if someone comes along?”

“What if they do? It is nearly dark. All they will see is a couple of girls in the water. They won’t know we’re deliciously naked.”

“Ha. And what if they decide to hang around?”

 

“We out-wait them,” said Mary quite coolly. “Besides which, we’ll probably spot anyone coming in the twilight and as soon as it’s dark anyone who comes won’t even see us.”

The whole idea was absurd, and how I let myself be talked into, it was beyond me. We finished swimming naked, our bikinis neatly piled on top of our dresses. Mary was correct about the twilight. It was getting dark quite quickly now, and any passers-by probably would not even notice us.

That is what I thought until I thought I spotted movement on the bank near where we left our clothes.

“Ah, Mary,” I said softly, not wanting to make our presence known. “I think there’s someone at our clothes.”

“Get the hell away from our things,” bellowed Mary, apparently not quite so worried about being caught skinny-dipping. “If I have to come over there you’ll catch it.”

I could not help but think that if a naked Mary suddenly appeared on the path yelling and cursing, she just might catch something, something along the lines of arrest for indecent exposure.

 

Mind you, she did get a prompt answer. There was a loud “Maia” from the bank, and Mary burst out laughing.

“It’s just one of those feral goats that the Council is promising to round up,” she said. “They’re harmless. We’ll just go and shoo them away.”

She swam over to the bank with me close behind. Then she was clambering up the bank onto the path, clapping her hands and going, “Hai! Hai!” Then she was screaming and running back into the water with a bloody great, smelly, Billy goat charging at her. Just to show I do not always follow Mary I led the way into the water. With some haste, I might add.

“Plan B,” Mary muttered. “We’ll just wait until the goats go away.”

We continued sporting about in the pool. As long as the goats did not decide to join us, we were quite happy. It was not very long before we heard them moving off. It was also nearly full dark.

“About time we headed homeward,” I said, heading towards the bank.

I strolled over to where we had left our clothes, and they were not there.

 

“Ah, Mary, I think we have a problem,” I said.

She joined me looking around for our clothes. Our sandals were there, but that was it.

“Those damn goats,” growled Mary. “They’ve dragged our clothes into the bushes. We’ll have to feel around and see if we can find them.”

“Don’t bother,” I said sadly, holding up half a bikini top. “They didn’t take them so much as they ate them.”

There was a short interval at this point while Mary expressed her opinion of goats, Councils that did not get rid of them and bureaucrats who closed public pools during a heatwave because that was what the rulebook said.

“Now that you’ve had your say,” I said after her little tirade was finished, “what are we going to do?”

“Go home, of course, but I think we might wait until it’s darker. We at least have our sandals. We can cross the park walking on the grass. That way, no-one will hear us, but if anyone is on the paths, we’ll hear them and can hide.”

 

“And after we’ve crossed the park?” I asked. “It’s still two blocks to my house.”

“We’ll sneak down the street. If we see anyone coming, we can hide behind any handy fences or bushes. We’ll be right.”

“We’d better be. If it looks as though we’re going to be caught, I’m going to throw you to them as a sacrifice while I run like the clappers.”

While we were waiting for it to get darker, we fished around in the nearby bushes hopefully. I found a nice long stick, which I decided to keep.

“What’s with the stick?” Mary wanted to know.

“Self-defense if we need it. Man or goat will cop it if they come near me. And I can use it to hit you when we get home for getting me into this mess.”

Mary laughed and fished around for her own stick. We abruptly stopped looking for sticks and clothes when a stick Mary reached for wriggled away. We moved well back from the bushes after that.

 

Finally, it was dark enough for us to venture forth and we started sneaking across the park, staying on the grass and near bushes where possible. We actually made it more than halfway across before we ran into anyone.

We heard the crunching of feet on the gravel path and hastily took cover behind some bushes, peeping out to watch the couple pass. There were a few lights in the park, mainly dotted where paths happened to cross. The approaching couple moved under the one nearest us, and I was promptly spitting chips.

“Isn’t that Jack and Lily,” whispered Mary, nudging me.

“Yes,” I said through gritted teeth.

Why was I annoyed? How about because Jack has been pressing hard to be my steady and to get me into bed. I was almost ready to accept both propositions. Also, here he was walking through the park at night with Saint Lily. She makes me sick with her more virginal than you do attitude. Which raises another point. Why was she wandering through the park at night with a man, let alone one who was supposedly fixing his interest in me?

If it were not for a little matter of goats and clothes, my stick and I would be having a serious discussion with Jack and Lily right now. As it was, all I could do was hide behind the bushes and seethe.

 

Things rapidly got worse. The pair of them stepped off the path onto the grass and stopped. I could hear Lily protesting mildly, but Jack was over-riding her objections. They still had the light behind them, and we could see them quite clearly.

Right there in front of us Jack unzipped and brought out his package. I half expected Saint Lily to scream and bolt, but no. She took hold of him with one hand and started stroking, not that he seemed to have all that much to stroke. I had not missed much by not sleeping with him, I decided.

What shocked me, apart from Lily, of all people, acting in such a brazen manner, is what she did next. She snapped her fingers, holding out her other hand.

“Rent money first,” she cooed.

I was horrified. What a tart and hypocrite. Also, Jack was digging out his wallet and paying her.

“You know I wouldn’t do this if I weren’t desperate?” murmured Lily.

“Really? And here I thought you might do it for free, just to put one over on Cheryl,” laughed Jack.

 

“Well, that, too,” giggled Lily. “Gee I’m going to laugh when I see her out with you next time.”

Jack laughed and then he was pushing Lily down onto the ground. Blast them. If they were going to have sex, why didn’t they move closer to the bushes where people were less likely to see them and take their clothes off? That way we might have been able to pinch their clothes.

Geez, I could just imagine that Mary and I snaffling their clothes while they are hard at it. That gets us dressed and out of the park. A quick trip home for our own clothes and then Mary and I could take an evening constitutional, strolling through the park, with torches. I wonder what we would find.

Not to be, alas. The lazy swine did not take off their clothes. Jack just eased Lily into the doggy position and then knelt behind her. I could quite distinctly see his erection lining up on her. Then he was banging it in and humping away. Mr. Finesse in action.

I was thinking a whole lot of nasty ways to describe the pair of them. I suspect that Mary was, too. As it was, we were stuck until they finished. Lily was facing the way that we had to go. Somehow, I do not think she was so totally wrapped up in what Jack was doing to miss seeing two naked women sneaking past.

It turned out to be a short wait. Jack was busy pumping back and forth while Lily just crouched there, letting it happen. Geez, she was not even bothering to hump her ass to help him out. I would have to tell her that a career as a call girl was not for her. Not if she wanted a successful career, anyway.

 

After a few moments of hectic activity from Jack, he groaned and seemed to be trying to push even deeper into Lily and then he just somewhat sagged over her. She turned and looked at him; decided he was done and got out from under. Hitching up her panties, she turned to Jack and exhorted him to get going. She did not fancy being caught in the park with him.

Jack scrambled to his feet, and the pair of them departed, Lily just casually strolling along as though nothing had happened and Jack strutting along like a real cock-of-the-walk. A victorious rooster was Jack.

I made a mental note to buy Lily a record for Christmas. I Cannot Get No Satisfaction by The Rolling Stones seemed appropriate.

As soon as the pair of them were out of earshot, Mary sounded off.

“That was Jack and Lily,” she exclaimed. “Aren’t you supposed to be his girlfriend? I thought you’d been trying to decide if you wanted to sleep with him.”

“Decision made,” I said grumpily. “Can we change the subject?”

 

“Sure. Let us discuss Lily. What a skanky hypocrite.”

Now that was one subject that I was quite willing to discuss. Between present, future and us we shredded Lily’s reputation, past. Especially future. The eternal virgin was bonking other women’s men for money. Revenge would be forthcoming, and she had no one to blame but herself.

While it was nice to discuss future revenge, it did not get us clothes or safely home. For those items, we had to rely on ourselves. We crossed the park with no more incidents, pausing on edge. Two short blocks from home. That was nothing. At least, it was nothing if you had on, say, a pair of panties. We did not.

“What say we cross and walk along the far side of the road?” I suggested. “The street lights are on the other side, and we’ll be in shadows. Then we can cross over at the last moment.”

“Fine by me,” muttered Mary. “Just be aware of where the nearest gates are. If anyone comes, we can nip inside and hide behind a fence. That includes cars. Fancy being spotlighted by headlights.”

I shuddered. It did not bear thinking about. There again, it did. If we thought about it, it was not likely to happen. We waited until the road was clear and then crossed quickly, darting into the shadows along my street. We were halfway down the first block, and things were looking good.

 

Then some idiot decided to go for a walk. This clown stepped out of a gate down near the end of the block and turned in our direction. We could see him silhouetted against the light at the corner. Fortunately, we were next to a house that had a nice high front fence. We just eased open the gate and stepped in, closing the gate behind us.

We stood behind the gate, waiting for the stroller to amble past. I was amazed at how frightened Mary seemed. She was just about panting with fright.

“Calm down,” I whispered to her. “You’re breathing so hard the man will hear us.”

For a moment, there was silence, bar the panting, and then Mary spoke.

“That’s not me,” she said nervously. “I thought it was you.”

We both turned and looked behind us, and there was enough moonlight to let us see our wonderful companion. Jesus Christ, a frigging bear, was standing behind us. We both screamed and plastered ourselves against the gates, petrified, and the damn bear roared at us.

 

In hindsight, I guess it was a bark. Just one, but it was thick and menacing, and the bear-dog or dog-bear, whatever it was, went back to panting at us.

We looked at him, and he looked at us.

“He’s not growling,” Mary said softly.

“He doesn’t have to be angry to eat us,” I pointed out.

I eased my hand over to try to open the gate and floodlights came on. There we were, pinned against the barriers in the altogether, a monster facing us, and the floodlights revealed all.

“Who’s there?” called a voice from the house. “Butch, fetch.”

Now the dog was growling. He moved slightly to the side and towards the gate at the same time. With teeth like that and growling like that, Mary and I backed away, and we found ourselves being herded towards the house. Deciding the home was safer than the dog we moved along quite smartly.

 

Standing at the front door was a man, not that much older than us. Probably quite good looking if it was not for the evil smile on his face. He ran his lecherous eyes over us, ushering us into the house. We went.

“In answer to your question,” he said, “it’s a Newfoundland crossed with a Great Dane.”

I have to admit, he had answered the question uppermost in my mind.

“Now, don’t tell me, let me guess,” he said, still smirking offensively, his eyes all over me. “You’re a couple of lesbians who chose my yard for a love-in?”

The lasers from my eyes should have reduced him to a pile of ash, but did not. He did seem to get the message through.

“No? Um, you are here to distract me while a burglar sneaks in the back. Also, quite a distraction I find you. Not that it would work as Butch would eat the burglar. No? Then perhaps you should explain.”

It would have been a lot easier to explain if he did not keep looking at me. Mary was standing there quite coyly, one hand across her breasts and the other covering her pussy. I was damned if I was going to cower behind my hands. I just gave him a fulminating look and explained about the swimming and the goats that ate our clothes.

 

I have never seen such a disbelieving look in my life, and my mother is an expert at delivering them.

“You’re telling me that a couple of goats came up to you while you were swimming and ate your clothes. For seconds, they nibbled off your swimming costumes, and you let them?”

“Um, we were skinny-dipping,” Mary put in, speaking in a nauseatingly sweet voice. “There was no-one around, and it was quite safe. We just hadn’t allowed for the feral goats in the area.”

The swine gave Mary a charming smile before turning back to ogle me again.

“That’s unfortunate, to say the least. Maybe I can help you out.”

With that, he turned and strolled into another room, returning after a moment with a couple of black t-shirts, which he handed to us. They fitted us like sloppy dresses, and I thought they were beautiful. They also finally got his eyes off me. I swear that I could feel those eyes physically touching me in some very personal places.

 

“Just return them when it’s convenient. You can drop them in the mailbox if you want.”

Personally, I would just as soon toss them over the fence while driving quickly past.

Mary was all charm and cooing, thanking him profusely. What was with her? I thanked him politely. I would have good manners, even if I did think he was a lecherous and obnoxious brute.

“I’m Harrison, by the way,” he said. “And you are?”

Mary fell all over herself introducing us. I just smiled and nodded.

Then Harrison gave a low whistle, and the monster came galloping over.

“Friends, Butch,” Harrison told the brute.

The great beast promptly started snuffling all over us, practically inhaling us into his nostrils. Then he made a low woofing sound and pushed against me, almost knocking me over.

 

“He likes you,” said Harrison. “Rub his head.”

Reluctantly, I did so, and Butch was practically wriggling with joy. Oddly enough, when Mary started rubbing his head, he just moved away from her, butting up against me again. Serves you right for crawling, I thought.

I suggested that I wanted to get home and Harrison was promptly ushering us out the door, saying he fully understood and that he would see us around. Mary was swarming all over him, assuring him that we would be delighted to meet with him again. I said goodbye.

Out in the street, dressed, thank god, and home not far off.

“What honey,” breathed Mary. “I have so got to meet him again. Let me have the t-shirts. I will wash them and return them personally. Didn’t you think him a hell of a hunk?”

“Not really,” I said. “A bit full of himself, I thought.”

“You’re kidding yourself,” laughed Mary. “He was very polite. He did not ogle us or try to touch us, and he very quickly produced the t-shirts. He could have left us standing around naked while he called your parents to come and collect us. Imagine how that would have played out.”

 

I would instead not imagine any such thing. I just grunted.

“Question without notice,” burbled Mary. “If he’s not such a hunk, why are your nipples making such pointed tents on that t-shirt?”

Oh, god, they were, too. Also, I will bet the swine noticed. Now he probably thinks I am attracted.

“Forget it,” I snapped. “Right now, I’m off men.”

“Off Jack, I can understand. But Harrison?”

I did not deign to answer that, just hurrying my pace, my house close to hand.

 

~

Two things happened on Saturday, neither of much note.

 

First, Mary rang to tell me she had returned the t-shirts.

“Not that it did me much good,” she grumped. “Harrison just thanked me politely, and that was it. He did not even invite me in. Also, that damned mongrel kept snuffling around my feet. I do not think the dog likes me. He followed me to the gate and practically pushed me out of it.”

“Who pushed you out the gate? Harrison or the dog?”

“The animal. I wouldn’t sully a noble race of animals by calling that brute a dog.”

I sympathized. Poor Mary. Struck out with both man and dog. I could not help but giggle.

Second, Jack rang, asking what I was doing.

“Oh, I’ve been going for walks in the park,” I told him. “It’s amazing what goes on there. Especially at night. By the way, I am changing your name on my phone to Teeny-Weeny and flagging it as ignore. Say hello to Lily for me.”

 

With that, I hung up, leaving him spluttering his explanation. I did not want to hear it.

That was Saturday. Sunday there was another little incident.

Just after lunch, there was a loud roar at our front door. My mother opened the door out of curiosity and almost had a heart attack to find Butch sitting on the porch.

“Heavens above!” she exclaimed, “What is that thing.”

I knew. Without even looking, I knew. There could not be two beasts in the world with a bark like that. I looked past Mum to confirm my guess.

“Um, that’s Butch,” I told her. “He belongs to a guy further down the road. Ah, I suppose that we should take him back.”

“You don’t expect me to go anywhere near that hound, do you?” protested my mother. “Look at him. He’s a half bear.”

“Um, half Newfoundland, I believe.”

 

“I don’t want to know what the other half is,” Mum assured me. “Probably an elephant. See if you can shoot him away.”

I ventured out onto the porch, grumbling. Butch promptly stood up and butted his head against me, nearly knocking me down. I pushed at him and was amazed to find he just moved off, heading towards our gate. I was quite happy to just stand there and see him go.

Butch was not going to be in it. When I did not follow, he stopped, looking at me. He did not start moving again until I started moving forward. Maybe he needed help with the gate, I thought, even though he would come in easy enough.

Wrong. He just gave a little hop, and he was over the gate. Standing, waiting. I sighed, threw my hands in the air and followed him out. He trotted along happily, tail wagging, and I followed him all the way home. He entered, and I closed the gate behind him. I turned to go home, and there was a nudge on my bottom. It seemed that gates did not bother Butch. His was open again, and he was waiting for me.

Gritting my teeth, I followed him to the front door where he let out a loud bark. Moments later Harrison was there.

“Good dog,” he said, rubbing Butch’s head. “Very good. Gate, yard.”

 

While I watched, Butch went thundering back to the gate, slamming it then nosed a piece of wood across to lock it. Then he spun around and went tearing off into the backyard.

“Come on in,” said Harrison, ushering me in.

“Why were you calling him a good dog,” I protested. “He was up to the street at my place. How would he get out, anyway? I have never seen him loose on the street before. I didn’t even know he existed until a few days ago.”

“I called him a good dog because he did what I wanted,” Harrison said. “He got out because I opened the gate and sent him on an errand. He’s quite smart.”

“If he’s so smart, how’d he end up at my place?”

“Easy. You’re the errand I sent him after.”

I did not believe a word of it. The dog might be smart, but not that smart. What, he recognized my name and then asked someone for my address?

“That is. . .” I was going to say bullshit but changed it at the last moment. “Unbelievable.”

 

“No. It is true. It was easy enough. When your friend returned the t-shirts, I showed them to Butch and let him sniff them. He ignored one of them but quite happily sniffed the other, which I guessed was yours. I knew he had taken a liking to you. I let him sniff the t-shirt earlier and told him to fetch. He just tracked your scent to your house.”

OK. Simple when you know how. Still, it did show the dog had some smarts. Any other dog I knew would have fetched the t-shirt, not the owner.

“Anyway, you’re here now. May I help you with your dress?”

Dress? I have had men offer to help me with my coat or jacket, but the clothing. Before I could react, Harrison had a hold of the material at my hips and was starting to lift it.

“What are you doing?” I yelped, slapping his hands away.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, not sounding in the least sorry. “My impression from the other night was that you didn’t mind nudism and liked to be without clothing.”

 

“Are you crazy? Just because the Council hasn’t exterminated feral goats that have a propensity to eat clothes does not mean that I’m a nudist.”

Please purchase this story and support me as an author! Thank you! ~ Jezebel Rose

---

Scroll up and buy Skinny Dipping Turned Erotic here on my author’s website now!

Buy on my distribution retailer’s site here!