Story 4, Canoe camping at an abandoned cottage with a special young lady

by Must Be Barking Mad

Author's preface: This is the second fantasy that I've written, and my fourth story. It's based on someone whom I knew when I was younger, and with whom I now wish that I had experienced this fantasy. I have tried hard to make this fantasy story realistic, including taking the time to set the scene and letting the relationship develop naturally. Please don't skip ahead to the physical intimacy, because the fantasy will not be anywhere near as beautiful. Hope you enjoy it.

Chapters:

Chapter 1 - Canoeing with Sydney
Chapter 2 - The abandoned cottage on the peninsula
Chapter 3 - Enjoying the serenity of our private paradise, and pleasant company
Chapter 4 - Friendly play then intimacy in paradise
Chapter 5 - Intimate paradise by romantic starlight

Copyright (c) 2004, Must Be Barking Mad. All Rights Reserved.

"Author's Notes" and "Qualifiers and Disclaimers" at end of story. Read them first!

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Chapter 1 - Canoeing with Sydney
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I've always enjoyed being in the great outdoors, and have had this love for as long as I can remember. One particular outdoor passion is canoeing, which I have actively pursued over the years. As I was growing up I enjoyed it so much that I joined and remained in a canoe club for years, and I even earned my instructor's certification when I was a teenager. In addition to instructing at several summer-camps at that time, and my more recent and ongoing instruction at a nearby recreational lake for the canoe club, I have also organized and led many canoe trips for groups. Some of these trips have been multi- day, a type of canoeing that I particularly enjoy because it incorporates another love of mine, camping in the wilderness. I also enjoy many other outdoor activities, such as sailing, soccer (I would have liked to have tried football, but I find that even now women really aren't welcome), equestrian, scuba diving, and even rock- climbing (I've taken a couple of courses on climbing, at a nearby abandoned quarry). Yes, I love the great outdoors.

Much of this love for the outdoors originally arose when I was a child, and has grown over the years. My parents often took me and my siblings out camping. So I grew up thinking that it was normal to spend summer weekends sleeping in a tent, and then later in a camping trailer. Sometimes my mother and us would even stay out all week, with dad joining us again on the weekend.

And it wasn't just my family; most times that we went out camping it was with several other families, friends of my parents and all of their kids. We kids, ranging in age from very young to teenagers, all played together despite the age differences. We were a whirling mass of orbits, forming a forever changing set of play groups or congregating in mass pandemonium, running through the woods at the campgrounds we frequented, splashing and playing in any lake or creek that was handy, and of course making 'smores' around the communal campfire (if you don't know what a 'smore' is, then you've missed out on a great thing!). Most of our respective parents have known each other from way back before even I was born (I'm now 21), and have made a tradition of these family camping 'jamborees'.

Sydney was one of this gaggle of kids, and I've known her since she first appeared on the scene as a wee baby, 12 years ago. So we go back a long way, and like many of the other kids with whom I've grown up camping, she is a friend.

Sydney's parents know about my interest in canoeing, of course. They also know that I often go wilderness camping, which I now enjoy more than the fun but 'tame' car-camping. Now that their own daughter was 'growing up', they wanted to foster Sydney's fledgling interest in such pursuits - partially for the beauty of active outdoor activities (above and beyond 'camping jamborees'), and partially because it was "... better than having her hanging around the mall or squandering her time on electronics at home...". It was for these reasons that they asked me last summer if I would take Sydney on one of my canoe-camping trips.

I actually haven't been out much on the family jamborees since I graduated from high school, and at the time Sydney was just shy of being 8 year old. But occasionally over the years I've taken her and many of the other kids out in a canoe at the lake for little day sessions during the summers. From those times, and from various chats with both Sydney and her parents over the years, I knew that she enjoyed canoeing. I also knew Sydney well enough to suspect that she would enjoy wilderness camping

I think Sydney is a pleasant kid, easy to talk with, and I would go so far as to say that I think she is a great person. Sydney and I get along very well. Actually, 'get along very well' is an understatement ... we really like each other, and have always enjoyed the time we've spent together, despite our age differences. It certainly helps that she shares an interest in some of the activities that are my passion. So it was with pleasure that I agreed to her parent's suggestion/request and my parent's encouragement that I take her out for a canoe camping trip.

The arrangement we came up with was to go out for a long weekend, Saturday through Monday inclusive. To maximize our time canoeing, we would get packed on Thursday evening, then on Friday after I finished working we would drive to the park and camp at a drive-in campground. Our return to town would be on Monday evening (which would be late, by the time we actually got home). This would give us two full days of paddling, two nights of canoe-camping, and a day of easy puttering and exploring in the middle. Sydney and I would be in one canoe, and a couple (Jack and Amanda) whom I know from the canoe club would be in a second canoe.

I had a great trip in mind - a couple of hundred miles from our home is a very large wilderness area. Part of this wilderness area is in a state park, and part is just wild and undeveloped state land. Within this area are numerous lakes and several small meandering rivers, which are wonderful for extended canoe trips, especially because there are a few interconnecting portages. These lakes and gently-flowing rivers are beautiful in themselves - with several large, open, deep lakes, numerous smaller shallow reed-lined lakes, and connecting rivers that meander tranquilly through the trees and cut through broad marshes. Moose, beavers, and turtles abound, and the place is a bird-watcher's heaven. Also, the beauty of these lakes and rivers is added to by the surrounding nature - the topography around these lakes and rivers consists of broad valleys between gently rolling ancient hills, and the whole landscape is beautifully cloaked with a rich covering of trees (which are especially beautiful later into the fall, as the leaves change color), interspersed with small sun-drenched grassy meadows. There is not a road or town to be seen or heard anywhere near where we were going - just nature ... beautiful, serene, undisturbed nature.

* * * *

A little personal aside is in order at this time: I have long known that I prefer women to men. This is how I have been since I was a prepubescent girl. For a long time I attempted (and for a while succeeded) to convince myself that I preferred men - but I don't do that anymore. I don't exactly go around advertising or flaunting my preference for other women. But I don't hide or deny it either. My parents know. Sydney's parents know.

Yes, I admit that even before our canoe trip that I did feel a mild tinge of sensual fondness for Sydney, arising from my long-term familiarity and emotional friendliness with her. However, I am quite capable of controlling my inclinations ... and our respective parent's know this too, which is why I'm sure they felt comfortable letting me take Sydney out. I viewed Sydney as a young 'friend', who would stay just that, a 'friend', albeit a very good friend. This trip was to be a fun outing of friends. That was solidly my mind-set and intent.

* * * *

Unfortunately for me and Sydney, my other friends, Jack and Amanda, had to bail at the very last moment because of an illness in the family. I decided that Sydney and I would go anyway - I've done many two people / one canoe trips before, and even several solo trips. So I wasn't concerned about not having the second canoe present. The only regrettable drawback of Jack and Amanda not coming along was that they were excellent camp cooks, and I had been really looking forward to the delicious meals they were going to prepare. I joked with Sydney, "My cooking verges on inedible, so I hope that we don't starve." I exaggerate a bit, but the fact is that my passions are sports and outdoor activities, and I've never bothered to learn how to cook well. Besides, it's occasions like this is that prepared meal packs are for, right (even though they do tend to be only marginally more palatable than my cooking)? Also, I CAN make a wicked pot of coffee - and isn't that all that matters? :-).

I heard the bad news from Amanda mid Friday morning. Fortunately, it didn't take Sydney and me long to reorganize our gear that evening - some now-unnecessary camping gear was removed, and we packed in some of the food that Amanda had thoughtfully left that afternoon at my parent's place before she and Jack had rushed out of town on their way to see Jack's elderly aunt. So we were on the road in my rusty old jalopy shortly after our originally planned departure time, and my slightly fast driving largely made up for the lateness (although it was still well after dark before we reached the distant campground). We chatted and laughed the whole way out - Sydney made for a great travel companion.

* * * *

The next morning Sydney and I were up with the morning symphony of birdsongs just as the smiling sun peeked up over the horizon. We had a quick breakfast of hot coffee (strong!) and cold cereal. I moved the car to the parking lot next to the boat launch, and we soon had the canoe unloaded from the car and packed with our lashed-in camping gear.

Given the beautiful weather, I had anticipated on having to put up with many other outdoors people during our canoe trip - but on the way out we saw only a total of 7 people in 3 boats at the boat launch, and better yet they were heading in completely different directions from us. To my added pleasure, I also recalled that while there were many people in the campground, few of them looked to be anything more than car-campers.

We were off, cutting through the still water of the undisturbed lake, leaving everyone behind.

Three hours, four moose, and a couple of portages later (once to the top of a section of river that was flowing into the first lake just a little bit too fast and too shallow to get up, and the other through the woods to an adjoining lake - both were a pain to walk with all of our gear, but at least they kept the powerboats away), we arrived at the large lake on which we would spend the night. But we weren't there, yet. It was a very large lake, and it would still take us another two hours of solid paddling to get to our destination for the night. I knew that we still had some hard paddling to do, so I decided to take a break for an early lunch before heading out onto the lake.

Sydney and I were both hot and sweating from the hard work of the portage we had just completed. I knew from experience that as we paddled and as the day got hotter I would need fewer and fewer clothes, and so that morning I had dressed in layers in preparation for this ... so all I had to do was remove my sweat pants (which I had done earlier), and then my long-sleeved shirt (which I now did), leaving me with shorts and a T-shirt. Sydney, on the other hand, had dressed in just long pants and shirt. I wasn't watching her as I pulled out our lunch, but the next thing I knew she had changed into a bikini, of all things, as if she were hanging out at the pool with her school friends.

This took me aback for a moment. I mentioned earlier in this story that Sydney's parents knew about my being a lesbian ... and I had thought that Sydney knew this, too. Now I wasn't so sure she did, because now she was traipsing around in her bikini in front of me. Furthermore, earlier back in our tent at the campground she had made hardly any attempt to hide her underwear when she had been changing. The earlier changing I hadn't considered to be anything unusual, and by itself it really wasn't unusual.

But traipsing around in a skimpy bathing suit was a bit worrisome - not for me, but rather for her. From my perspective, I was willing to just let Sydney continue with her casual actions - after all, it didn't bother me or make any difference to me (although that doesn't mean that I don't find sights like this to be intriguing, even stimulating - because I certainly do), because I can control my inclinations. But the more I thought it through the more I realized that it would be appropriate to warn Sydney of my liking women, lest she later end up feeling dreadfully embarrassed when she eventually found out. Young 'ladies' tend to not be well prepared emotionally for such situations.

"Sydney, ... there's something you should know," I said, and went on the delicately tell her how I like women more than men. Then I said "Your bikini is very lovely, and when you wear it in front of boys at the pool it's bound to make them like you even more (I had been tempted to use the word 'horny', but thought better of it) ... And it'll have the same effect on a lesbian. So you may not want to be wearing it in front of one. ... I thought I'd tell you, just in case you didn't know I was a lesbian."

"Oh, ya," she said, blushingly slightly, "I guess I knew that ... I just forgot. Sorry. I'll pull on some other clothes." She reached into her backpack, and pulled out a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, which she dutifully put on. In some ways I couldn't help but think 'too bad' in the back of my mind, because the bikini did look nice on her developing young body.

I changed the topic, to take our minds off of the topic of 'appropriate attire in front of a lesbian', "Salami? Or cheese? Or both, on your crackers?" We had a relaxing, leisurely lunch, before climbing back into the canoe for the rest of the day's paddle.

The paddle down the lake to our destination was serene. We were surrounded by beautiful wilderness, with neither the lakeshore nor the surrounding hills scarred by human development. Nothing but millions upon millions upon millions of trees, gently rolling hills that lazily disappeared into the distance, and narrow strips of lush wetlands scattered along the shoreline. Even the sound of our paddling was serene, with gentle splashes as the paddles rhythmically dipped in and out of the water, the slight creaking of the heavily laden canoe as our weight shifted forward then back then forward then back as we lifted and placed and stroked our paddles, and faint burbles coming from the tiny whirlpools that formed as our canoe sliced through the water. It was very soothing.

We didn't talk much as we paddled, but what conversation we had was enjoyable. I like Sydney's upbeat personality, and her easy laugh.

For the last 30 minutes of the paddle that day I let Sydney take the rear of the canoe (after a very cautious changeover after first purposefully moving closer to shore). The first 5 minutes of her 'captainship' had us going in gentle arcs back and forth across the lake surface, but she quickly got the hang of it and we went straight from then on.

Chapter 2 - The abandoned cottage on the peninsula
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"See that point of land up ahead?" I asked, pointing across the lake as we got near our destination.

"Ya."

"We're going to go in behind it."

"Behind it? What do you mean?" Sydney asked.

I explained, "The point wraps around a cove. You won't be able to see it until we get nearer and on the far side. But keep your eyes open - you might be able to see the old cottage through the trees on the point as we get closer."

I had discovered this location two years earlier during another trip (coincidently, with Amanda and Jack, as well as one other friend). The cove does show up on most maps, and depending on which map you have the now abandoned cottage may or may not be shown as a little black dot- but we had largely just stumbled upon it, and it wasn't until after that earlier trip that we noticed the location and cottage on some of our maps.

Twenty minutes later, Sydney and I reached our destination. And sure enough, just as we came up to the point, we could just make out an old cottage peeking out through the trees, its wooden planks the color grey of aged pine, the weathered color almost a camouflage.

The 'point' is actually a 'peninsula', in that it's fat base comes off perpendicular from the shoreline and then makes a sharply angled L-shape. So it is surrounded by water on three sides, and forms an elongated small cove about 150 feet in length and 25 feet in width on the mainland side of the peninsula. The only way to see into the cove is to be adjacent to the shoreline further down the shoreline; if a person were out from shore on the lake they wouldn't be able to see into the cove. Sydney and I followed the outside length of the peninsula, until we came around the far end and entered the cove.

We had been paddling strongly as we came across the lake and then down the outer length of the peninsula, but now that we were in the secluded cove and virtually at our destination we backed off on the paddling pace. The cove is beautiful, and Sydney and I took in this beauty as we eased our way down the length of the cove. Most of the shoreline of the cove is bordered by modestly sloping speckled bedrock, topped by majestic trees and numerous shrubs with brilliant green leaves. We could just make out the rocks at the bottom of the deep, clear water, as the canoe slipped quietly across the surface. At the far (head) end of the cove, in the tight curve of the peninsula's base, the water gets shallow and there is an inviting small sand and rounded-gravel beach. In the water, off to one side but still next to this beach, is a small wetland area of bull rushes, growing lushly in the shallows. A small turtle slipped off of a sun- bleached log, and disappeared into the water as a moving shadow.

The former cottage owners had cleared a small section of forest adjacent to the beach, and it was still mainly grassy (although there were many weeds scattered across the clearing, and a couple of shrubs had also invaded).

We landed the canoe at the beach, pulling it partway up onto shore before its loaded weight stopped any further removal from the water.

Stretching my tired shoulders, I said, "Welcome to paradise."

Before we bothered to unload the canoe, I took Sydney for a tour of this wonderful paradise.

I led her up a pathway through the trees towards the abandoned cottage. The cottage sits on top of the rock ridge that forms the peninsula, about 20 feet higher than the lake. At the spot where the cottage is sitting on the peninsula, the peninsula is at its widest at about 100 feet wide; towards the end of the peninsula it tapers down to about 40 feet wide. The cottage is actually on the lake side of the peninsula, looking out over the lake, but set back about 10 yards from the sheer rock face of the outside of the peninsula. Even though it is discreetly set back from the shore and largely hidden by several ancient pine trees, it still has a spectacular view of the shimmering water on the lake, and of the distant rolling hills on the far side of the lake. Oh, what I'd do to have this view year-round!

The cottage was in surprisingly good repair, despite having been abandoned so many years ago. While it no longer had any windows, it still had a workable roof (although if you used the cottage during a rainstorm you would have to take care to not stand under one of the small holes in the roof), and the floors were constructed well enough to still be structurally sound. The cottage had also been well designed, with many of the rooms having large window frames that took advantage of the incredible view of the lake through the trees. Only the kitchen, dining room, and a small back-bedroom didn't have a view of the lake, although they did have large, bright windows providing their own serene views towards the rear.

As if the cottage and its setting weren't wonderful enough, there was also the beautiful matter of the still beautiful former yard and garden behind the cottage. And this is what we came across first as we walked up from the cove along the pathway through the trees. We had walked to the top of the ridge that forms the peninsula, but were still about 40 feet from the rear of the cottage when we emerged from the trees and entered an open area.

This clearing was framed by several large lilacs that gave off a rich, pleasant aroma that had wafted over us even as we first started up the trail from the beach. Between these lilacs and dispersed around the yard were numerous patches of flowers, some at ground level and some elevated or sitting in small pockets between rocks. It was evident that the original gardeners had thoughtfully incorporated the rocky outcrops of the peninsula's granite base into the layout of the gardens and yard, making nature and garden feel as if they were in harmony.

Years of abandonment had allowed numerous weeds to invade the flower patches. However, it was easy to see that many of the flowers were still thriving amongst the native plants - here and there could be seen numerous brightly colored bulb flowers poking out from the rich soil, and many of the flowering shrubs were still doing well.

In its historical full glory, the garden must have been immaculate and radiant, for even now with its overgrowth it was still very beautiful.

At the bottom end of the backyard was the former vegetable garden, now also heavily weed invested, but even these weeds had pretty flower heads. I suppose maybe some of the vegetables were still growing, but it was very hard to tell for sure.

Next to the former vegetable patch and surrounded by the multitude of flower patches was an oblong grassy area, a former grass yard. This area had become overgrown with domestic and wild grasses, in many spots now up to 2 feet high; but the rolling expanse of grass was inviting, and I knew from experience we would be able to easily push down the grass for our tent. Off to one side, next to one patch cascading blue flowers, was a large flat rock that we could use as an adhoc platform for cooking on our camping stove. Nearby is an old small hut, which Amanda, Jack, and I had concluded was a rudimentary wood-burning sauna - but we never used it because we were always there during the summer when it was already hot enough.

To me, this old abandoned cottage and its nature and flower-rich yard are a form of paradise, and I was happy to be able to share it with my young friend. I don't know if Sydney loved it as much as I do, but she was certainly taken in by its beauty. "Wow," was her first word as we entered the garden for the first time.

Chapter 3 - Enjoying the serenity of our private paradise, and pleasant company
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After showing Sydney around first the garden, and then the old cottage, and then the garden again, I said, "We'll camp up here. Let's go get our gear." Usually when I'm canoe camping I just camp on the shore near the canoe; but the yard behind the cottage was too beautiful to pass up on.

It took us each three trips to haul all of our gear up to the cottage. We no longer had a constant breeze blowing across our bodies and cooling us down, now that we were off of the lake and in the relative wind-shelter of the trees. So by the time we had hauled all of our gear we were both very sweaty. Subsequent toiling in the clearing of the yard under the warm overhead sun as we set up the tent and unpacked our gear just made us even sweatier.

Soon our camp was set up - tent erected on the flattest piece of grass we could find, sleeping bags spread out in the tent, and cooking area set up and the food safely stored hanging from a rope in a tree (I've never had a problem with a bear, and I always take steps to ensure that I never do). After we had the camp organized, I made the obvious suggestion: "Let's go for a swim to cool down and wash up."

Sydney thought this was a great suggestion. But as I was pulling my brand new bathing suit out from my pack, she said, "Um, I only have my bikini with me ... and you said that I shouldn't wear it in front of you."

I responded, "That's OK, you can wear your bikini if you want to. It's not like I'm going to start fondling you just because you're in a bikini. I may be a lesbian, but that doesn't mean that I can't control myself when a pretty girl is in front of me in her bikini. ... Earlier I told you because I wanted to make sure that you knew, so you wouldn't be embarrassed later when you did find out. Go ahead, wear it if you want."

"Are you sure?" she asked, apparently uncertain as to what was or was not acceptable.

"Sure, I'm sure. All that matters is what you're comfortable wearing. Because it certainly doesn't matter to me," I said to reassure her. Then with a mischievous smile I jokingly added, "Just don't flash your tits at me ... or all bets will be off." She laughed along with me.

All Sydney had to do to get ready for swimming was pull off the shorts and T-shirt that she had pulled on over her bikini earlier that day. I, on the other had, did need to get changed into my bathing suit. To respect Sydney's likely sense of decorum under the circumstances, I went into the cottage by myself to change in private. Changing my outer clothes and being down to my underwear out in the open in front of Sydney was one thing ... stripping down completely was another thing, and I didn't want to offend Sydney, or give her any discomfort.

Within a few minutes we were back down by the cove, and plunging into the refreshing coolness of the crystal clear water. I could feel my skin tingling delightfully as the water washed away the grunge and heat. After many minutes of swimming and childishly splashing around in the shallows, Sydney and I swam down the cove to admire where the speckled rocks became steeper along the shoreline, and as they dipped down into the increasing depths of the cove and then lake as we eventually neared the end of the peninsula. Instead of returning down the length of the cove, we continued swimming along the shoreline of the peninsula into the main part of the lake, and eventually reached the cottage in the trees from the lake side.

We clambered out of the deep water and up the steep, rugged rock face, and approached the cottage from the front, being careful as we treaded barefoot over uneven rocks and sharp pine needles. Now standing on the front deck of the cottage, I turned around to admire the view of the lake, and Sydney joined me as soon as she had slowly, cautiously made her way past the pine needles. In front of us stretched the lake, the bright sun reflecting, sparkling, merrily as the afternoon breeze rippled the lake's surface. The sky was a brilliant blue, accented by a few small puffy white clouds scattered across the vast expanse of the summer sky, which made the vista even more beautiful.

Paradise, no matter from which angle you approach it.

The day was now reaching its afternoon high temperature, and the warm summer air and the strong sun that had greeted me as I emerged from the water were now rapidly air-drying my damp skin. The only thing that remained noticeably wet was my long hair. My towel was still back by the cove where we had started swimming, so when we returned to the garden I used my cotton sweater to sop up the moisture dripping from the tips of my hair. Sydney did something similar, using one of her shirts to dry her even longer brown hair, which was slightly darkened by dampness.

As we were standing there drying our hair, Sydney noticed something about my new bathing suit that I wasn't aware of, and she none-too- subtly stated "You were harassing me about my skimpy clothes ... but look at what you're wearing, Julia! I can almost see your boobs right through it!"

I look down at my bathing suit, and discovered that she was telling the truth. My one-piece bathing suit was clearly showing the shape and skin of my breasts and especially my cool-water, damp-clothing- erected nipples through the light yellow fabric. And without looking too closely, I could tell that my pubic patch was showing through as well. Earlier, before our swim, when my bathing suit was dry, it had been very 'proper', just like it had been in the store when I bought it last week - but now that it was wet it was being very revealing. Here I had thought that this new one-piece bathing suit with its conservative cut would be 'modest' and 'proper'; boy, was I ever wrong! You'd think that the manufacturer would have used better materials, but apparently this was too much to expect.

I lowered my cotton sweater to hide my breasts and crotch as best I could. I'm not a prude, not by a long shot; but I'm not an exhibitionist either, especially given that I was in front of my young friend whom I didn't want to offend. "Oops," I said. With a sheepish smile I added, "Well, put on your sandals, and go get our towels from the cove, so I can cover up until my bathing suit dries enough to stop showing off my 'boobs'."

She pulled on her sandals, and left for the cove, snickering at my misfortunate.

Sydney was back a few minutes later, sauntering up the pathway through the trees, towels slung haphazardly from one arm and holding our shoes in her other hand. I couldn't help but admire how nicely her young body looked in her slinky bikini as she got closer. I had put on my dark sunglasses while waiting for Sydney, and thus was able to be discreet in my admiration - but I certainly was allowing myself to glance at how pleasantly her young developing breasts pushed out against the fabric of her small bikini top. I even stole a glance down at her bikini bottom, and admired how her slender legs stretched out from of the slightly bulging bikini bottom between her legs, and took in the smooth, gentle curve of her developing hips. 'She's growing up,' I thought to myself.

"Thank you," I said as she passed me my towel. She had started snickering at me again, so I flicked the end of my towel at her round bum as she turned away squealing at her pending punishment.

We moved to the center of the grassy area, next to one of the smaller garden patches, to take full advantage of the sun. I spread out my large beach towel, pushed down the pliant, knee-high grass underneath it, and lay down on my tummy. Sydney spread out her towel immediately next to mine, and lay down as well.

We lay there for the rest of the afternoon, luxuriating in the beaming sun, with the warm air delightfully filled with aromatic fragrance from the lilac trees. At first we were happily chatting back and forth, but as we relaxed more and more our talking slowly petered out. The afternoon practically invited a sense of laziness ... especially after the long hard paddle we had completed. So before long I was lightly napping off and on as I lounged; Sydney also dozed off lightly, and as I drifted in and out of consciousness I could hear her gentle breathing next to me, and listening to this was pleasantly relaxing in its own right.

During one of my 'awake' moments, I sat up, pulled the straps of my one-piece bathing suit down off of my shoulders and pulled the top down to around my tummy, and rolled over and lay down on my tummy again. I often do this when I'm tanning in the privacy of my backyard or out in nature like we were now, and sometimes I'll even go bottomless. I like getting an all over tan ... although, again, I'm not an exhibitionist, and I wasn't doing it now for any sort of naughty reason.

Sydney had been snoozing when I first sat up, but my movements had unfortunately roused her from her light nap. She opened her eyes and turned and lifted her head just as I lay down again. She probably didn't get a flash of my bare breasts, but she could certainly see that I was topless as I lay on my belly.

"Why did you pull your top down?" She asked, her curiosity evidently getting the better of her.

"I don't want tan lines on my back," I explained, honestly, after turning my head around to face her.

"Oh," she replied, laying her head back down on her towel, still facing me.

We chatted for a few minutes, at first about tans but then about other things, before drifting into lazy oblivion again. Just before I drifted off, I noticed Sydney reach behind her back, and undo the strap of her bikini - she evidently wanted an 'all-over' tan on her back, too. Since she was lying on her tummy, I couldn't make out anything of her breasts, especially given that her small, young breasts were being further flattened by her chest - but the sight of her with her bikini undone still looked intriguing ... I had to chastise myself for my naughty thoughts.

* * * *

That evening, we had a leisurely dinner, and then at dusk we made ourselves a small campfire that we sat around roasting marshmallows (which I don't normally take with me, but I did on this trip for Sydney's benefit). I had packed two bottles of wine for myself (a bit indulgent, I know), one for each evening, and I decided to treat Sydney like a young adult and thus indulged her by allowing her a glass (in the sacrilegious form of a mug) of red wine, too.

We stayed up until innumerable stars were glittering in the now velvety-black sky, chatting pleasantly, happily, with each other. I really enjoyed Sydney's upbeat company, and she clearly enjoyed my company too. And I couldn't help but admire how pretty her young face looked in the dancing light from our small fire.

It had been a long day, what with the early start and the long, hard paddle. So we were soon ready for bed. I stirred the remains of the fire around, so that only faint embers were still visible in our fire pit.

I was exhausted, and had intended on going straight to bed, but Sydney noted, "Listen to all of the frogs back at the lake."

Through the forest we could indeed hear many frogs from back at the cove, their multitude of calls creating a veritable nocturnal orchestra. "Why don't we go down to the cove and listen to them before we hit the sack?" I suggested.

Sydney readily agreed, and we grabbed our respective flashlights for the walk through the dark forest, now surrounded by crickets merrily sawing out their mating calls. Down at the cove the frogs were even louder, and we could now hear other insects buzzing as they flew through the air. The moon was beginning to rise in the distance, but only brief glances of its pockmarked surface could be seen through the towering trees and their many-fingered branches. In the dark over the cove and over the small wetland next to the beach, many faint blue fireflies could be seen flittering through the air, in their mesmerizing mating dance. We sat down on the sand beach, and enjoyed this beauty for at least half an hour, chatting with each other in very quiet voices lest we spoil the exquisite symphony and accompanying light-show.

We held hands as we returned along the dark path through the thick canopy of trees, partially to help guide each other over the rough path, but mainly just as a suitable gesture of affection between good friends who were enjoying each other's pleasant company.

We turned off our flashlights as we entered the clearing behind the cottage. In the faint light of the moon coming through the trees we changed into our respective night attire ... me into an extra long T- shirt, and Sydney into her nightgown over just her dark panties, which I could just make out as a contrast in the dim light as she pulled the nightgown over her pale, slender body.

Soon I was cuddled up in the comfort of my cozy sleeping bag, and I quickly began to fade into sleep, my pleasant chatting with Sydney rapidly diminishing. To my pleasant surprise, just before I did fall asleep, Sydney leaned over, gave me a friendly goodnight kiss on top of my head, and said "Good night, Julia. And thanks for bringing me canoeing. I like being here ... and with you."

I managed to mumble something pleasant back through my grogginess ... but try as I might, I suspect that some of my mildly flustered state probably came through. But 'flustered' aside, it certainly had been a wonderful day, and I had enjoyed being with my pleasant young friend. I drifted off into a happy sleep.

Chapter 4 - Friendly play leads to intimacy in paradise
--------------------------------------

The next morning, as planned, we were up at dawn, shaking off the early morning chill as we got ready to paddle further down the lake. We didn't break camp, because the plan all along was to use the cottage as our base for the weekend. So this paddle was a day excursion - we would go paddling, sight seeing, and nature watching for the day, and then return to the cottage. I had originally planned on carrying on further than just the end of the lake, by going down a small connecting creek to the next lake and then paddling to the end of it, eventually returning to the cottage at the end of the day.

But I came to the realization that a long paddle that day was not necessary. Sydney was getting out into nature, like she and her parents wanted, and she was enjoying herself already. Besides, a long paddle that day really would have been nothing more than a masochistic thing that a die-hard canoeist would do - and I admit that I'm normally such a person. But having Sydney with me changed this, since I didn't want to turn her off of canoe camping by pushing her too hard.

So after paddling to the end of the lake and spending just under an hour exploring an extensive marsh, and admiring the rich diversity of bird life in and around the marsh, we headed back to the cottage. We had gotten an early start that morning, to escape the mid-day heat from the sun beating down on us from above and reflecting up into our face from the lake surface. This early start meant that even with our pleasant morning paddle, it was still only 10:30 by the time we got back to the cottage. We had a leisurely, early lunch, and I got to poke fun of Sydney because of a dab of mustard on the tip of her nose.

By this time the day was already warming up nicely, and given the warmth and given the sweating that we had done while paddling steadily back to the cottage, we decided that it would be nice to go for another swim in the bay. Grabbing my bathing suit, I walked towards the cottage, with the intent of again respecting Sydney's sense of decorum by changing in private. To my slight surprise, Sydney picked up her own two-piece bathing suit, and followed me into the cottage. I suppose that she must have thought that I was going into the cottage for my own modesty reason of not wanting to change out in the open.

Still chatting away, we undressed just inside the cottage kitchen. We were casual as we stripped down to our underwear, but then both modestly turned away as we pulled off our underwear. I had my one- piece bathing suit pulled on in no time, but Sydney was tying her bikini top's strap and was still bottomless when I turned around again. What a beautiful bum! Slim, but still nicely rounded, topped by little dimples on her lower back. I made it a point to not disrupt my pace of talking, lest Sydney discover that I was distracted by her delectable nude bum. And I made it a point to be looking at her face when she turned around herself after she had pulled on her slinky bikini bottom.

Remembering what my poor excuse for a swimsuit would look like after we got out of the water, I had the sense to take my T-shirt down to the cove with me. And for decorum's sake, I did pull it on as soon as Sydney and I had finished having a long, languorous, and very pleasant swim around the cove. I kept it on for the return walk to the cottage garden, and for another fifteen minutes while we were sun tanning until my swimsuit had dried sufficiently to not be so see- through. During these fifteen minutes I periodically checked my swimsuit out by pulling my T-shirt out at the neck and staring down at myself - this made Sydney laugh at me, and she said "Hey, Boobs". She got her sides tickled for that joke, squealing out "NO NO NO."

We chatted happily as we suntanned. But like the day before, we eventually drifted off into relaxed stupor. And also like the day before, I eventually pulled my suit down so that it was bunched up at my hips, and lay down on my tummy so that I could suntan my back.

"Do you ever tan your bum?" Sydney casually asked me. I'm not sure what inspired her to ask me this, but ask she did.

"Ya, sometimes. My front too, especially my top." I answered honestly.

"Cool," she responded.

I thought no more off it, and lay there on my tummy, relaxing.

About two or three minutes later, Sydney asked "Are you gonna today?"

My mind was already elsewhere, so I didn't understand her question. "Gonna, what?" I asked in confusion.

"Suntan your bum and your front, ... silly," she replied.

"Nooo!" I retorted in mock outrage.

"Why not?" she asked next.

"'Cause you're here, ... silly," I replied, using the same goofy, mocking tone as she had just used when she called me a silly.

"I don't care if you do," she said.

"Well, the answer is still NO," I said firmly, albeit with a friendly voice.

"I think you should."

"No"

"Yes," she said with a light, happy voice.

"No."

We continued to light-heartedly bicker like this on and off for the next ten minutes. Her good-humored persistence was wearing down my resistance, and she was about to break it anyway when to my surprise she said, "I'll tan in the nude if you tan in the nude."

"Get off ... you don't have the nerve," I shot back at her.

"Yes I do," she retorted firmly, and to prove her point she sat up, undid the strap of her bikini top, slipped it off, lay down on her back and arched her hips upwards as she pulled down her bikini bottom. She sat up again, and smiled at me, now completely in the nude. I managed to look at her smile and not her nude body ... although it wasn't easy.

Who was I to argue with such proof of nerve? "Well, OK," I said, as I stood up, took hold of my swimsuit where it was bunched up around my hips, and pulled it down off my bum and then off completely.

"There, happy?" I asked in a mocking tone.

She just laughed.

Sydney's long light-brown hair hung over the front of her shoulder, and when she lay down some remained in front of her small breasts. It was a luxurious color, and shone radiantly in the sun. She looked so beautiful, a sweet young goddess in her youthful innocence ... albeit somewhat naughty in this natural state. I admired this beauty, far more for the artistic perfection than alluring nude body.

After about an hour of lying in the sun and chatting, Sydney announced that she was going to go cool down in the cove. To my disappointment, but not surprise, she pulled her bikini back on for her swim. I was on my back at the time and wearing my sunglasses, and enjoyed the naughty opportunity to watch her pull her bottom up her legs and then over her faintly-haired pudendum - this was my first view of her private special area, and I enjoyed the voyeuristic view. And then I got to admire her developing swells as she pulled on the top. I returned to staring into the sky as Sydney disappeared down the path through the trees. The beautiful blue sky was marred only by a single, faint contrail off in the distance that dissipated into a diaphanous wisp as I watched. A few minutes later I awoke with a mild start, and realized that I had been so mesmerized by the fading contrail that it had lulled me into a nap as the warm sun beat down on my body. I rolled over to my tummy in order to bake my backside, and drifted off again.

I'm not sure for how long I snoozed before Sydney returned from her swim, but her way of announcing her return was to plunk her now wet, cool, swimsuit-clad body against my exposed warm, dry back. The sensation of her relatively cold wetness was both shocking and pleasant - but mainly shocking, and I squealed at the unexpected abrupt end of my nap. "OH, YOU WITCH!!" I bellowed at my laughing young friend.

I was fully awake now. So I had the pleasure of watching as Sydney again removed her swimsuit, and lay down to continue her nude sunbathing. 'Oh, what a beautiful body,' I thought to myself, enjoying the sensuous but still innocent opportunity to just see her. She lay down in the nude next to me, her body made even more alluring by the shimmer of moisture coating her smooth skin. Sydney's small breasts looked much flatter under the effect of gravity and (mainly) stretched body as she lay back, but they were still very beautiful. The gentle protrusions of the front of her hipbones accented the gentle curves of her sleek tummy.

We picked up our pleasant chat about some of her good friends as if we hadn't stopped chatting at all. I was really, really enjoying Sydney's upbeat company.

I don't specifically recall rolling on to my side while I was chatting with Sydney, but I did, and now I was facing towards her, with my exposed breasts clearly evident. Sydney was evidently feeling relaxed in my company and equally friendly towards me, because just like girls will do with friends she innocently and wistfully stated, "I hope my breasts grow up to be like yours." Sydney rolled onto her side to face me, too.

I ran my eyes down to her chest, and honestly said, "I think your breasts will be beautiful when you grow up. Heck, they're already beautiful!" Her young breasts were swelling out from her chest like the two halves of a small peach, and their untanned paleness was nicely contrasted by enticing caps of smooth, dusky pink areolas and nipples.

"No they're not. They're too small," Sydney said dejectedly, just like I and most of my friends had said when we were growing up.

"Sure they are! They've already got a beautiful shape. Look at how they're bulging out," I said to encourage her. They were beautiful ... although truth be told they were still small ... but I'm sure that they will in fact grow out very nicely.

Sydney smiled gratefully at my compliment. Happily she relaxed, reclined onto her back again, and seemed to be less self-conscious about her young, small breasts. Presumably, she must have been thinking that if I liked her breasts, they must be alright, even though they were so much smaller than mine.

After a couple of minutes about talking about how my own breasts had taken what felt like 'forever' to grow, our conversation went on to other topics.

But my eyes, hidden as they were behind my dark sunglasses, would periodically return to admire Sydney's young breasts. Partially, I was admiring their intrinsic beauty. And partially I was voyeuristically admiring the sensuousness of their delicious nudity in front of me. It was the latter purpose that got me into trouble. I had thought that I was doing a good job of hiding my intrigue in Sydney's nubile body. But apparently my nipples weren't working very cooperatively with me - because Sydney said, "Your nipples are sticking out." Then to my further embarrassment she bluntly added, "I thought you said you wouldn't get horny around me?"

"Oops, sorry," I said, blushing. "Your beautiful body is making them act on their own," I lied, sort of. Then to awkwardly cover my embarrassment I blurted, "But I did warn you yesterday afternoon that all bets were off if you exposed your 'titties' to me." With that I mischievously reached over and gave her nearest breast a little fondle. As I did so I noticed that her own nipples were now jutting out ever so slightly - but I attributed it to the unaccustomed sensuousness of suntanning in the nude ... and when they stuck out further a short while after my quick fondle I attributed it to her body's autonomous response to being touched.

Sydney squealed giddily at my mischievous grope, and protectively flailed her arms around to dislodge my hand.

I instantly regretted having touched Sydney so inappropriately. But I was soon put more at ease by Sydney's clearly cheerful laughing. Then about half a minute later she surprised me by giving me a quick retaliatory squeeze with a "Gotcha!", before rapidly rolling out of my reach as I tried to light-heartedly slap her hand and then spank her bum, both of which I failed at.

Eventually I allowed her to return to her towel again ... but only after she promised to behave herself.

We lay there chatting for another ten minutes or so. Then I decided that I needed to go cool off, so I pulled on my sandals and got up and began to head down towards the cove. I had only gone about three or four paces when Sydney noticed that I was heading off in the nude. She gasped and then blurted out in surprise "Are you going skinny-dipping?"

"Yup," I responded.

"Cool ... I wanna do that too," she said excitedly. So up she hopped to join me, even though she had only just recently returned from her own swim. By this point I didn't mind that we were both walking around in the nude - if she was comfortable, so was I.

Swimming around through the cool water in the cove was refreshing. And doing so in the nude left me with a mood of sensuousness; I can only imagine how even more sensuous, even erotic, it must have seemed to my young, inexperienced friend. Skinny-dipping certainly left Sydney filled with nervous excitement, because she boisterously began splashing me. I happy returned the splashes and laughs. And I couldn't help but admire her nude, young body when she beautifully displayed it by clambering up on a rock and diving back into the deep water, swimming deeply under me in the crystal clear water.

Later, after Sydney had settled down, we swam down the length of the cove. Unlike the prior day, however, we didn't go out into the main part of the lake. As remote and unpopulated as the area was, I didn't want to risk having anyone at all seeing the two of us swimming around in the nude. It just wasn't appropriate.

So instead, we returned to the top end of the cove, where we lazily floated in the tranquil shallows next to the small beach, where my bum occasionally touched the sand on the bottom and my heels held me anchored in place.

And this is where Sydney surprised me. We had been floating there for about five minutes, chatting merrily, when during a brief interlude in our conversation Sydney leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

I turned my head towards Sydney, and looked into her bright eyes, trying to fathom what she had just done, and trying to understand my own chaotic thoughts. She was quietly looking at me, smiling happily.

While still trying to get a grip on my thoughts, I lifted one of my hands out of the water and gently stroked the side of Sydney's beautiful face, brushing some of her long wet hair to the side. "Thank you," I said warmly.

She responded by turning her head towards my hand, and kissing my palm. "You're welcome," she added, as she turned her face back towards me.

I continued to lovingly brush her cheek as I struggled even more to sort out my thoughts and intense emotions. But then I came to grips with what I was thinking and feeling. I placed my hand on the elegant sweep of Sydney's chin, turned her face towards me, and leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth, her lips parting in welcome. And I didn't stop affectionately kissing her for what must have been well over five minutes, drawing her languidly-floating body into my arms as we kissed.

Eventually we stopped kissing, and after another short swim through the water we got out and walked up the pathway together, hand in hand. When we got back to the cottage garden, I purposefully pulled on my T-shirt. I fully intended on affectionately kissing Sydney again; in fact, I had a great, deep, driving craving to kiss her sweet lips. However, I was intent on not getting sexual. So I figured that getting dressed was a way to keep us affectionate, but not sexual. And I succeeded (... for a short while at least). Fortunately, Sydney helped by falling for my purposefully deceptive line of "You should pull on your bikini, so your bum and breasts wouldn't get sunburned. Your skin isn't used to being tanned there ... so it'll burn easily."

For the next several hours we chatted, kissed, napped in the warm sun, then affectionately kissed some more. It was a wonderful afternoon, and I immensely enjoyed our cuddling and kissing.

I did a really good job of controlling my desire to be physically intimate with Sydney. That's not to say that controlling this desire was easy, because it wasn't. By the end of the afternoon I was feeling very aroused, and desperately wanted to make love to Sydney. But I controlled myself even when we had long breaks in our conversation as we kissed and I held her in my arms.

Unfortunately, my downfall was made inevitable when Sydney decided to again suntan in the nude. On her own initiative, she stated that she wanted to get a bit more of an "all round tan" before the sun dropped too low. So she doffed her skimpy bikini, and lay face up beside me. I kept my own t-shirt on (but remember that this was all that I put had on after our earlier skinny dipping swim).

We continued chatting happily as she nude suntanned. But after about 10 minutes of this pleasant talking, I took the initiative and began kissing Sydney on her lips.

I knew that seeing Sydney in the nude again had made me feel even more aroused. And I knew that I now did want to make love to my sweet young friend. But I didn't know if Sydney would be open to this. Yes, we had been kissing affectionately all afternoon - but in many ways this had been like teenagers 'necking', and didn't necessarily mean that physical intimacy was appropriate or wanted.

So I proceeded slowly, cautiously. As I kissed her soft lips, I lay my hand on Sydney's firm tummy. Placing my hand on her tummy wasn't anything new, because I had held her by the tummy earlier in the afternoon. - but this time I caressed her tummy with sensuous hand movements. After several minutes of this, and at the same time as I began to kiss her entire face in addition to her lips, I slipped my hand upwards, stopping just short of her breasts, where I gently caressed the smooth skin covering her ribs. I stopped kissing her sweet face, and pulled my head back so that I could look into Sydney's eyes. She had placed one of her hands on my head as we had been kissing, so she had to pull this hand away as I pulled my head back.

I think that Sydney had already guessed what was coming next, because she was already smiling broadly at me, and she even lightly bit her lower lip in an expectant way as she continued to happily smile up at me. And she kept smiling at me like this as I slipped my hand over her small breast. I could hear her inhale a small gasp of pleasure through her nose as my hand came to rest over her slightly protruding nipple.

After a moment's hesitation to ensure that she was still looking happy with what I was doing, I proceeded to use the palm of my hand to encourage her nipple to stick out further. This encouragement was easy to do, and it also elicited another small gasp of pleasure and also made Sydney's eyelids flicker momentarily. Now confident that Sydney was a willing participant, I lowered my lips back to her face and continued kissing her parted lips, and now also her entire face. A short while later I discovered that nibbling on Sydney's ears caused her to sigh audibly - it also caused her to arch her back to push her other breast (to which I had now switched my fondling attentions) more firmly into my hand.

I continued kissing and fondling Sydney for what must have been at least 15 minutes, with only one brief break while I pealed off my own t-shirt so I could be nude next to Sydney. By this time our kissing had become very passionate, our lips moving together, kissing briefly, lips away, back together, kissing, sucking each others lips out (I started this, and she quickly followed suit), then apart. And by now Sydney was sighing, moaning, and cooing in pleasure, and I could feel her body squirming as I alternately fondled her small breasts with their now perky nipples and caressed her tummy, her legs, her arms, and her face. So far, however, I had not touched her forbidden privates between her legs.

Without bothering to look into Sydney's eyes for reassurance, I slipped my hand closer and closer to her genitals. I felt sure that she would consent to being touched there. She confirmed her willingness by spreading her legs as I slipped my hand past her cunny and caressed her inner thighs.

Slowly, gently, I moved my fingers towards Sydney's genitals, which I sensuously outlined with my fingertips. It felt incredibly intriguing to touch her barely-haired pudendum and outer labia; I've had lovers who were shaved, but it's not quite the same as being naturally virtually hairless. Many minutes later, as I slipped my fingers over her slit for the first time I discovered that, not surprisingly, Sydney was already damp and slightly excreting. But even with this knowledge, I still didn't go straight for her clitoris - I greatly dislike immediate stimulation of my own clit, and I suspected that Sydney wouldn't enjoy it either. So instead, I made at first tentative and then more prolonged forays across her inner labia then entrance to her vagina, interspersed with gentle caresses of her outer labia and pudendum and periodically back to her inner thigh.

When I finally did touch her clitoris, it was at first very, very gently. I made slow, circular motions over her entire clitoral area, especially over her hood. I used my middle finger to lightly brush over the tip of her clit. After a sensuously prolonged period of starts and stops, I gently teased her clit out from under the hood as much as I could without tugging. Carefully, I took her slender clit between my fingertips, and tenderly massaged her clitoral shaft and tip.

By this time Sydney was squirming and sighing. I stopped kissing her soft lips and beautiful face, and looked down into her alluring eyes. She looked so very happy as she looked up at me with a smile on her face, although she had a hard time holding the smile because she was sighing and breathing heavily. I gave her a quick peck on the lips, and then moved my body down so I could take a peek at her genitals from up close.

Oh, what a beautiful cunny she has. It is pleasantly bulging, and in the heat of her passion she had spread her legs and her slit was enticingly open. I moved my fingers away from her clit, much like I had been periodically doing during our love making, and slid them down over her glistening, slippery inner labia. This left her slender clit in clear view. I was intrigued to discover that the tip of her clit was actually paler than the surrounding clitoral hood. I placed my thumb over her clit and gently rubbed as I inserted my middle finger deeply into her narrow vagina, very, very carefully slipping the tip of my finger past her hymen. I continued with this gentle rubbing and fingering as my lips made their way up Sydney's belly and chest (with a brief stop on both nipples) until I was again kissing her sweet lips.

I increased the intensity and pace of my fingering, and within a minute or two Sydney was gasping and then crying out into my mouth as I brought her to an orgasm, her body shuddering with contractions. I was incredibly happy that I could give my sweet young friend, my love, such great pleasure.

It took a long while for Sydney to recover, during which I never stopped kissing her pretty face and soft lips, although I did ease up and then stop fingering her - I'm sure that her genitals were probably hypersensitive by that time, and I didn't want to over stimulate her.

I was, of course, by now extremely aroused and desperate for my own release. So as soon as Sydney had recovered her composure I was guiding her slender hand down towards my own genitals. I suppose I should have been more patient and let Sydney bask in the pleasure of her own afterglow, but I was just too horny to wait any longer - it was a regrettable loss of self-control, but an irresistibly pleasant one. Sydney began to kiss my face and lips, but I soon guided her soft, warm lips down to my nipples, which I love having sucked (in retrospect, I recognize that it was awfully presumptuous of me to think that a young girl of 12 wouldn't mind kissing and sucking a woman's nipples - fortunately, Sydney didn't seem to mind, and in fact seemed to enjoy it). And I loved the sensation of Sydney's long, silky hair sliding across the skin of my chest and breasts as she moved her head around.

After a few minutes of tender kisses and nibbling, I put my hand behind Sydney's head and pulled her soft lips tightly against my nipple, because I was desperate for firm stimulation. To my mild surprise, she was soon getting right into sucking and kissing my nipples and breasts, and even used her free hand to firmly cup and push my breasts up towards her mouth, Judging from the sensations, it seems that she also was opening her mouth as far as possible to take in the whole front of my breast, to which she would apply suction. And when I asked her to, she also flicked her tongue to apply pressure to my aureoles and nipples.

From Sydney's fumbling I could tell that she was willing but wasn't sure what to do with my genitals (although she was doing remarkably well for a novice). So I reached down to guide her hand and fingers, and joined in with my own fingers.

It took a few minutes to bring me towards the edge of an orgasm. And at first I was tempted to just keep going straight into it. But I was so greatly enjoying the pleasurable sensations of being touched by Sydney that I instead decided to prolong the moment. At first all I had to do to prolong this pleasure was temporarily stop touching my cunny with my own fingers and leave only young Sydney touching me there. But after awhile this wasn't enough, and I had to momentarily stop even Sydney inquisitive fingers.

During these interludes, Sydney's head was busy nibbling on my nipples, kissing my lips and face, nibbling on my ears like I had done to her earlier (talk about a quick learner!), kissing my neck, back to my nipples, then back to my lips. Her other hand was fondling my breasts and nipples (a bit too roughly for my liking, but I put up with her novice hand) when they weren't being nibbled on by Sydney's mouth. I was getting more and more frantic as Sydney got me closer to climaxing. When I let her continue fingering me again after one short interlude, I didn't need to join in with my own fingers. And this time I had no intention on keeping myself at the edge; I let Sydney go for broke, and it was wonderful, glorious.

Chapter 5 - Intimate paradise by starlight
--------------------------------------

There wasn't much left of the afternoon, but during what was left Sydney and I closely hugged and held each other, basking in the warmth of the sun and of our pleasant afterglow, happy in each other's affectionate embrace. It was only when the beaming sun moved behind the conifer trees as they swayed approvingly to a fro in the gentle breeze that we finally got up to put on some clothes.

I made a concerted effort at making us a decent dinner with some of the food that Jack and Amanda had put together for us. But I have to admit that I was glad that Sydney was there to help - without her superior cooking abilities, I'm sure that dinner would have been a darn sight chewier and far more bland than it turned out. She even seemed to know what herbs and spices to use from the overly (at least to me, it was) extensive spice back that Amanda had given us.

After dinner, we went for a pleasant walk through the fragrant pine trees, walking hand in hand whenever the forest was open enough to allow us. We returned to the unkempt but still beautiful garden just as the light began to fade, with the enticing aroma of the lilacs greeting us even though we could no longer see the natural bouquets of flowers draping from the overgrown shrubs.

We sat around the softly crackling campfire for the next two hours, chatting happily. I'll grant you that it is unusual to eat s'mores (for the uninitiated who've been wondering since early in this story, they're roasted marshmallows topped with chocolate squares and scrunched between two sweet graham crackers - they leave you wanting "s'more") while sipping wine (just one glass for Sydney), but it is very enjoyable.

Later, as the night air chilled slightly, we enjoyed hot coco as we tried to see shapes in the glowing embers - Sydney managed to come up with a tiger leaping over a Halloween pumpkin, which while weird was certainly very imaginative. For awhile Sydney had her head in my lap, and I stroked her hair affectionately as we talked. It was a pleasant, friendly time. And the evening was made even more memorable by another walk down to the cove to enjoy the night music of the frogs and chirping insects, with an accompanying light show provided by the luminescent fireflies.

Sydney and I sat on the beach, watching the pretty blue blurs of the passing fireflies (which we were jokingly naming 'Sam', 'Aaron', 'Ken', 'Jose'), with our arms around each other's legs and knees, affectionately holding each other. We kept stealing kisses on the cheek, especially when we were trying to distract whoever's turn it was to name a firefly. Once, when I kissed the side of her head, I noticed that her hair had a fragrance that was an intriguing and enticing mix of sweetly pungent sweat and faint but rich pine from our earlier walk through the forest. Later we just sat there admiring the stars and listening to the night music. The water in the cove rippled gently, and the reflections of the stars looked as if they were playfully flittering around with the fireflies. We couldn't help but enjoy the romantic setting, and exchanged many short loving kisses on the lips.

It was about this time that I said something like "You're very beautiful." I had meant it mainly as comment about how wonderful Sydney's personality was, and about how much I was enjoying being with her. But understandably she evidently thought that I was talking about her physical appearance, for she responded, "I think you're pretty, too." Her response was also slightly awkward, probably because she wasn't used to having a lover say such things to her. But I didn't care - I was just happy to be with such a special young lady.

Shortly after this, during a break in our chatting and light, affectionate kisses, Sydney took the initiative on physical contact. She took one of my hands in the dark, and placed it on the inside of her thigh. I hadn't planned on making love to Sydney again that day, but I certainly wasn't adverse to it either.

So I caressed the erogenous area on the inside of her thigh, and became more passionate in my kissing. Slowly, sensuously I got closer and closer to her cunny. Just as I reached the point in my caresses where is was perfectly evident to me and Sydney that directly touching her genitals was next, I teasingly pulled my hand away and moved it up to her tummy.

Sydney pulled her mouth away from mine and said "Hey! Don't stop." She tried to push my hand back between her legs.

But I didn't let her. Instead, I put on a fake Japanese accent and said "Patience, grasshopper."

A reluctant, "Hmph", was her response. But she didn't push the matter, and I continued caressing her tummy and arms and occasionally fondling her small breasts through her sweater as we continued kissing. She affectionately held snuggly onto my nearest arm with one of her own, and periodically gave me a tentative caress with her other hand.

It was after about 20 minutes of this kissing, fondling, and periodic teases of her erogenous inner thighs that I stopped to talk with Sydney about what I wanted to do next, what I was craving to do with her.

"Syd, do you know what oral sex is?" I asked.

"Um, isn't it like fingering, but you use a tongue instead," she answered after a moment's hesitation.

"Yes, that's a pretty accurate description." Then something made me add "... But how do you know what 'fingering' means? No, never mind, it doesn't matter." While I had certainly 'fingered' sweet Sydney that afternoon, it struck me peculiar that at her young age she should know what the terminology was. But it just as quickly struck me that knowing why she knew about it was absolutely none of my business.

Despite my withdrawing the nosy question, Sydney answered "One of my friends was telling me about how her older sister told her about being fingered by her boyfriend, I guess like you did to me this afternoon ... and, um, I'm not sure where I heard about oral sex before - but I figured out for myself that it must be like fingering." I could sense that she was proud at having deduced the similarity.

With nary a moments hesitation, I went on to say, "I'd really like to do oral sex (I almost said 'eat you out', but didn't because it would have sounded too crass) on you, Sydney. It's a beautiful way for women to make love to each other. May I? Please? Afterwards, you can decide for yourself whether or not you want to do it on me. OK?"

"Um, OK," was Sydney's limited response to my request. It was fairly dark on the beach because of all of the tall trees behind us, and even with the faint light of the twinkling stars I couldn't really tell from facial expressions what she was thinking. But judging by the tone of her voice she was willing, albeit a bit uncertain about such an unusual (to a young girl like Sydney) request.

"Stand up, so I can take your pants off," I directed. Sydney did as she was asked. Her shorts pulled nicely off of her hips, and I had no problem slipping them off over her sneakers. I leaned forward, and kissed the front of her white cotton panties, which appeared to glow faintly in the dreamy starlight. Even through Sydney's clean panties I could smell the faint aroma of her earlier secretions from our afternoon lovemaking. I made a mental note to myself that we needed to go for a hygienic bath in the morning before we began our paddle back to civilization. I reached up with both hands and pulled Sydney's panties down her silky thighs, past her petite knees, and helped her to step out of them.

I left Sydney standing. Kneeling down in front of her, I reached back between her legs with one of my arms, and curved it up so that my hand was on her firm, round bum, allowing me to both fondle her bum and balance her at the same time. Leaning forward, I planted a tender kiss on her tummy immediately below where her sweater ended. I could feel her warmth through my lips, and was tickled ever so slightly by the wisps of her downy tummy hair or perhaps they were the upper portion of her light, wispy pubic hair.

As with my caressing hands earlier, I took my time in kissing my way towards Sydney's genitals. But reach them I did. And once I had used the tip of my tongue to spread open Sydney's snug slit, her moisture was soon spreading over the surface, helped along by the tip of my tongue. She was slightly tart, but in a way that I loved.

By this time Sydney's hands were on top of my head, and her fingertips were lovingly combing my hair. My hand on her bum pulled her closer to me, and her hands on my head also pulled me closer. My face became exquisitely nestled in her moist, virtually hairless cunny.

Soon it was time to lay Sydney down - I wanted her to become fully immersed in the pleasure of cunnilingus, and I didn't want her to be distracted by having to maintain her balance. In the heat of the moment as we had been kissing and making foreplay on the beach, I had been thinking that we would make love right there. But then I decided that we should really be doing this back at the camp; sex on the beach can be fun, but sand sticking everywhere is an unpleasant and in this case unnecessary side-effect. From my still kneeling position I gathered up Sydney's pants and panties. Standing up, I said, "Come with me." I lovingly took Sydney's hand in mine, and lead her, bottomless, along the starlit path through the forest.

When we reached the clearing of the garden patch, I dropped Sydney's hand, and moved in close to her so that I could put my hand on her small, firm, round naked bum, which I squeezed affectionately. I kept my hand there as we walked the rest of the way to our camp, using my hold on her bum to guide Sydney to the patch of flattened grass where we had been sun-tanning earlier in the day.

Turning Sydney towards me, I took hold of her sweater and T-shirt, and pulled them off as one over her head. She was now standing in the nude in front of me, her beautiful, nubile young body glowing palely in the light of the now rising moon, the still warm night breeze gently wafting over her body. I moved forward, pulled her close to me with one arm, and affectionately kissed her lips and face. My other hand mischievously took the opportunity to fondle her small breasts and still perky nipples.

After about a minute or so, I pulled my head back and said, "I love you, Syd?" I meant it.

"I love you, too," she responded, this time the words flowing smoothly and easily off of her lips. I'm not sure how much of Sydney's feelings were affection-based as compared to arousal-based, but I truly believe that she was like me and wanted to make love because we were so emotionally fond of each other and not just because our hormones were flowing (although they certainly were now flowing). In the past I have occasionally felt momentarily fond of someone because of being aroused (horny, if you will) - but this was not the case with Sydney, with whom it was the opposite and more than just momentary.

After one final kiss on her tender lips, I asked, "Are you ready, honey?"

"Yes," she answered in a faint whisper, with a happy, expectant tone in her voice.

I helped to ease Sydney's nude body to the welcoming grass. I moved to her waist, and said "Spread your legs and bend your knees for me, sweetie, so I can get at your privates."

"You mean like this?" she asked as she spread her self open to me and moved her legs out of the way.

"Ya, that's perfect." I moved between her legs. Beams of pale light were peeking more and more between the trees as the moon rose, and by these beams I could clearly make out that Sydney was still glistening. Never-the-less, I still took care in how I kissed, licked, and nibbled on her beckoning genitals. At first she giggled, and said that it tickled a tiny bit. Soon, however, I was gently tonguing her small clit, and then more and more passionately stimulating her, and she relaxed and really began to enjoy the sensations. I still took my time, letting Sydney's pleasure grow, then calm down, then grow some more but not too far. At some point in Sydney's rising crescendo of pleasure she began moaning. This moaning grew louder as I made her more and more aroused. I'm certainly very glad that there were no other campers around to hear Sydney as I finally intensely pushed her over the edge.

I tried to bring Sydney gently down from her orgasm, and I think I succeeded. She eventually stopped squirming and her breathing gradually slowed, but she continued cooing for a long time, and happily held me when I moved up to affectionately cuddle her.

"Well, what do you think? ... About oral sex?" I finally asked.

"Um, it felt kind of funny when you were, um, licking me on my privates. But in a nice way. I liked it. But I, um, don't think I want to do it to you. Um, sorry. I feel kind'a bad about it, but I'm not comfortable putting my mouth on your privates."

"That's OK, honey, I don't mind." I responded; I was indeed fine with this, and I made sure that Sydney didn't feel bad about not wanting to return the activity.

Instead, after I had undressed, we did what we had done earlier that afternoon - I got Sydney to finger me, at first with some assistance from my own fingers but with the actual leap over the edge of ecstasy solely at her fingertips. And just like earlier that afternoon, it was incredible - especially the afterglow cuddles and kisses.

* * * *

That night Sydney and I shared our sleeping bags, with my 'mummy' style bag spread out as much as possible beneath us and Sydney's square 'tourist' bag opened up and covering us. It looked like it was going to be another spectacular, rainless night, so I left off the tent's rain-fly, letting us look up at the stars through the 'mosquito-mesh' top of my tent. They twinkled away in the broad expanse of dark sky above us, an ocean of a billion glittering stars casting down their cosmic beauty on the wonderful young lady in my arms.

I fell asleep with me spooned around Sydney and affectionately hugging her.

When I woke up in the morning, we were reversed, with Sydney spooning and hugging me. I enjoyed listening to the melodious symphony of bird songs coming from the overgrown garden and surrounding forest as I slowly became more awake.

Then I realized why I had woken up even though it was only just now becoming light outside - Sydney was softly rubbing my tummy and sides affectionately. Despite having woken up early, our departure from the cottage was still delayed by well over an hour past when I had originally planned on setting sail back towards civilization; affection takes a long time. And even our paddle back was prolonged, since we stopped at one of the last private places we came to for an hour of affectionate, loving hugs, cuddles, and lingering kisses. Then it was back into the canoe for the last short distance to the car, and from there back home. I had no idea what the future held for Sydney and me, but I was grateful for the current moment.

The End

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