Skinny Dipper Ch. 03

A bit of background about myself - my name is Charles and I'm nineteen. I am reasonably good-looking, quite intelligent, personable and friendly. I'm not the most popular guy in town but neither am I without friends. I guess you could call me an average sort of guy.

With one small exception. No, I'm not talking about my cock. I'm talking about my general stature. I am what might be called on the short and slender side of average. Well over on the short and slender side, I guess. I would have to admit that I'm probably the shortest man in the school, and I'm not excluding the grades lower than mine. I was born a shrimp and have remained a shrimp.

Not, I might point out, that it annoys me or gets me down. I am what I am and that's all there is to it. I'm quite good at sports, being very agile but, as you may have heard, a good big man will beat a good small man, so I'm not actually on any of the teams. Good thing, too. I tried out for football and nearly gave the coach a heart attack when I got cleaned up in the first five minutes. And that was just a friendly try-out. Imagine being ploughed under by some oaf three times my size in a real match.

Still, like I said, I'm personable and friendly, and that goes a long way, especially when chatting up women. I have had my successes there. I've had my failures, too, but don't we all? Sex-wise, I get my share, or even a little more than my share, because the bigger guys are out training. Oddly enough, my small stature doesn't seem to have affected the size of my cock. It's actually slightly on the plus side of average (only slightly, but a plus is a plus) but in comparison to my slight stature it gives the illusion of being a lot bigger than it is, which seems to please the ladies.

I have, over the years, taken a bit of teasing, some nice and some nasty, regarding my size or lack there-of. The nice I react to by stirring up the teaser. The nasty I tend to ignore, just avoiding that person where practicable. Still, it does sting at times, especially when the taunting is uncalled for.

Now I've told you that about myself to give you an idea of where I'm coming from when I tell you about this little incident. It was a Saturday afternoon and I'd gone for a hike in the woods near our town. After hiking for an hour or so I was feeling rather warm, it being a hot day, and I thought I'd swing past this nice secluded pool I knew of and do a little bit of paddling. Just get my feet wet and let the water cool me a little. That was all I intended, I swear.

Now, unless you knew where this pool was it was highly unlikely that you'd find it by chance. My father had shown me how to get to it one day, suggesting I keep silent about it as it was also a good fishing spot. So I had. As far as I was concerned it was my own private spot. Accordingly, I was a little surprised to find that there was someone already in the pool.

I noticed a couple of interesting facts immediately. The person floating on their back in my private pool was female and she was skinny dipping. The angle she was on, I couldn't quite see her face, probably because I was too distracted by the things that I could see. I gave a low whistle to let my new friend know she had company.

There was some very energetic thrashing about and splashing as the young lady came to her feet and turned to see where the whistling was coming from. With her current lack of attire, she might have been better off submerging, because when she stood up the water only came to her knees, leaving a lot of interesting scenery on display.

Also on display was the red face of Cheryl, a cheerleader that I know. Unfortunately, when I say know I don't mean that in the biblical sense. I'd made the mistake once of asking Cheryl out, only to be told she doesn't date children. A bit rich as she knew damn well I was older than her. Only a couple of months older, but still.

Remember my comment about nasty teasing? That was Cheryl, where I was concerned. She tends to make pointed comments on my lack of height, talking about when I grow up, nick-names me Tiny Tim as Charles is too big a name for me, always has a dig ready.

So I was in the odd state of being disconcerted to find my bete noir skinny dipping and delighted to have her at such a disadvantage. I started undoing my shirt, smirking at her, letting her see I was looking her over.

"Get the hell out of here, you disgusting little pervert," she shrieked at me.

"Hi, Cheryl," I replied. "Great minds think alike. I was just thinking what a good idea it would be to have a cooling swim and here you are with the same idea."

"What!? Don't you dare get undressed. You just get the hell away from here. How dare you follow me up here?"

"Don't be stupid, sweetheart," I said, laughing at her. (Much to her fury.) "If I'd followed you up here I'd have made my appearance while you were still on shore. That way I wouldn't have to chase you around the pool."

I could see sudden comprehension hit her. She was naked and alone with a man who she had frequently offended. Not only that, I was busy stripping while looking her over as I did so.

"You wouldn't dare touch me," she gasped.

"You wouldn't dare tell anyone that 'Tiny Tim' molested you," I taunted. "You'd never live it down."

Her eyes went wide as I dropped my trousers.

"Fuck you," she seethed. "I'm leaving."

She came charging out of the water, heading for her clothes, which meant she had to pass me. I caught her arm as she tried to pass me, pulling her up against me. She was actually slightly taller than me and I think my slightness fooled her as to my strength. I am a lot stronger than I look.

Her eyes opened wide when I pulled her against me and she could feel my erection pressing against her bare tummy.

"So what do you think of Tiny Tim's Wee Willy?" I asked.

She said something rude and tried to hit me. Only tried. I caught her arm quite easily, overcoming her increasingly desperate struggles with an insulting ease. She was looking frantic and hunted when she finally stopped wriggling about.

"You rape me and my brother will kill you," she stated, although she sounded dreadfully unsure of herself.

"Rape you? How crass," I said softly. "You have a high opinion of your fleshy delights, don't you?"

Not bad. She looked both relieved and annoyed. Sort of, how dare I not want to rape her?

"Well," she finally decided to ask, "why are you holding me?"

"I was wondering when you'd ask me that. If you cast your mind back I'm sure you'll think of numerous occasions where you have been gratuitously rude to me. I've always had to just smile and take it. Now, however, you're in a position to take a little of what you so freely dish out. I'm unlikely to get another chance to be alone with you and your delectable body in such an interesting lack of clothing, so I thought I'd take advantage of it to punish you for past misbehaviour and probably future rudeness. I'm going to spank you."

"What?" She sounded as though she didn't believe what she'd just heard.

"Spank you, I said. You know, where I put you across my knee and paddle your pretty little bottom with my little hand. Aren't you lucky that I'm such a small man? I don't have really large hands so that should make it easier for you."

"Do you really think I'm going to bend over your knee and let you spank me?" she asked, clearly incredulous that I would consider that she'd do that for even one moment.

I laughed.

"Do you seriously think you can stop me putting you across my knee and spanking your bottom?" I returned. "Let's see which of us is correct."

I sank down onto the ground, pulling Cheryl with me. I wound up sitting with her across my knee, wriggling hard and trying to pull away. Her wriggling stopped abruptly when I pointed out that she was rubbing herself against Wee Willy. She froze at that point, horribly aware of what was rubbing against her side.

Typical female, she couldn't stop herself from commenting.

"Why do you call it that ridiculous name?" she demanded.

"I don't," I told her. "It's just that with you calling me Tiny Tim I was sure you'd want an appropriate belittling name for it, hence Wee Willy. Don't you think the name is apt?"

The silence seemed to indicate that she didn't appreciate my sense of humour. Ah, well, not everyone is a born comedian.

"All right, to work," I said cheerfully. "Do try to keep the screaming to a minimum."

With that I brought my hand down firmly upon her bottom.

"That one was for the Tiny Tim tag," I said happily. "The rest will just be for general rudeness."

She was protesting and wailing before my hand came down the second time, but quietly. I don't think she wanted to make any real noise in case someone heard and investigated.

With the second spank I left my hand sitting on her bottom while I reached for and fondled a breast.

"You have very nice breasts," I murmured. "It feels delightful."

Cheryl was swearing softly and trying to rear up and away from my hand but the hand on her bottom held her in place.

"Look at it this way, Cheryl. While I'm playing with your breast, I'm not spanking. Which do you prefer?"

"Neither, you pervert," she hissed. "Let me up."

"No." A short and sweet reply, backed up by another spank.

"You're right," I observed. "Better to get the spanking over with. We can always discuss my playing with your breasts afterwards."

I returned to giving her a decent spanking. That was all I intended. The fact that she was kicking her legs up and down and exposing her love mound was completely irrelevant to my course of action. In an ideal world, anyway. In this one I couldn't resist laying a sharp spank along her pussy.

That got me a reaction. Her generic swearing and complaining stopped short. She was plainly shocked at what I'd just done.

"Sorry, my hand slipped," I said glibly, before she could launch into the furious protest she was about to make. At least, I assumed she was about to make one from the deep breath she took.

The spanking continued for a few moments in silence until my hand slipped again. She got in first this time.

"Don't do that," she gasped.

"What, this?" I asked, slapping her pussy again.

"Yes, that," she snapped.

"But it's fun. You react so nicely when I do it. Watch."

I started delivering a series of short stinging slaps to her pussy, while she squirmed and protested and her breathing got heavier and her pussy swelled and her lips parted. I could observe the latter because she didn't do anything about bringing her legs together to frustrate my misadventures.

I continued delivering those sharp little slaps while my free hand captured her breast again, squeezing it in time to the slaps. Oddly enough she didn't comment on that.

I called a halt to the spanking, my hand resting on her pussy, cupping and squeezing it slightly. I caught one of her hands and brought it down to where my erection was pressing against her side, pressing her hand against my cock. It promptly closed over me.

I eased her off my lap so she was crouching on the ground, bottom up, one hand holding my cock while my hand was still covering her pussy.

"How do you want me to take you," I asked. "Just come in hard and fast?"

"Yes," she gasped. "Hard, now."

She reluctantly let go of my erection as I moved into position behind her. I lined up and did as she requested, tasking her hard and fast, my cock sliding in deep with one firm thrust.

She gave a groan of relief, which I very much echoed inside. I just held myself in her for a moment.

The moment up, I started to move, pulling back and returning in a very smart fashion. Cheryl's bottom bounced up as she pushed back to meet me. After a few strokes her cognitive abilities caught up with what was going on.

"Wait," she gasped, and I drove in hard and held myself still, fully inside her.

"Wait, wait, wait," she gasped again. "You said you weren't going to rape me."

"What do you mean, rape?" I protested. "You asked me to. Hard, you said. Now, you said. Are you changing your mind?"

To remind her of what we were doing I pulled slowly back and returned with a long slow thrust, hands rubbing her breasts as I drove firmly forward. I didn't wait for her to answer. I pulled back, returning with greater speed, finding her bottom lifting as she took me as deep as possible.

After a couple more thrusts it was becoming increasing obvious that she wasn't going to answer my question. As she wasn't protesting I kept going, picking up the pace and setting up a nice rhythmic motion.

It was plain to me that Cheryl was enjoying what was happening and taking an active part, but still, she had used the word rape. I pulled out of her, rolling her over onto her back. Then I positioned myself above her, cock just barely touching her pussy, looking down at her.

"What are you doing?" she half screamed at me.

"Are you sure you want this?" I asked.

"Damn you, you can't stop now," she yelled.

That seemed to be approval so I drove forward, driving fully into her. Now it was my turn for my bottom to be bouncing up and down as I took her, driving in repeatedly, feeling her surging under me as she responded.

So once again fun was being had by both parties, but in the back of my mind there was still the knowledge that I was annoyed with Cheryl's general behaviour. I don't think I deliberately decided to do what I did. It sort of just happened.

I was driving along nicely, quite happy to keep going the way I was for a while, with Cheryl pushing urgently up against me as I drove down into her. We were both breathing hard and I didn't think it would be too long before we climaxed.

It took quite a bit of will-power but I rolled off her and lay in the grass next to her.

She started babbling about what the hell was I playing at and I sighed.

"I don't know," I said. "How can I be sure that you won't think I'm taking unfair advantage of you? Raping you, even."

"Bastard," she hissed at me. "Bastard, bastard, bastard."

At the same time she rolled over onto me, straddling me and sinking down onto me in one fluent motion. With that she started riding me.

I must say that the girl could ride. She must have had practice to be that good. She slid up and down my pole with only a minimum requirement from me, just enough movement to help her along. The advantage of this, I found, was that I was lasting longer. I'd been about ready to blow my cork when I rolled off her and had actually expected to climax upon driving back into her. I certainly hadn't expected her to jump me the way she did. Was I complaining? Not in this lifetime.

She established a pattern that she apparently found acceptable, even if it was one that had me sweating and wanting to scream. It took a lot of intestinal fortitude to refrain from screaming, rolling her under me, and letting her have everything I had as fast as I could.

It was worth it though. She writhed around on top of me, slowly driving me wild, while her own passions and excitement built. My hands were pressed up against her breasts, massaging them while she bounced upon me, enjoying the total feel of her.

It was the sort of situation you don't want to finish, although you know you'll die if it doesn't finish pretty damn fast. Then her face was flushing and she was bucking harder and I could tell she was damn near ready to climax.

I took that as my cue. I rolled over, taking her with me, and then under me, driving into her hard and fast. It was just that I like to be in full control at the end. So sue me if you don't agree. It only took a few more thrusts and I was letting fly and she was rising to accept my offering, giving a soft wail, her passage closing tightly around me, demanding every drop I had in me.

We stayed like that for a few moments, both of us shaking from the effort of our respective relief, then she sagged down onto the grass, completely spent, and I collapsed on top of her.

After a few moments Cheryl pushed at me and I rolled off her. She propped herself up on one elbow and gave me the evil eye.

"You, you," she spluttered, nor seeming to know how to continue.

"Were wonderful? Were marvellous? Were adequate to the task?" I asked. "Don't say adequate," I added. "It would just be so dispiriting and I'd get all upset."

"You took advantage of me!" she snapped.

"Well, maybe, but you also took advantage of me," I pointed out.

"I did not. I was scared. You beat me until I had to do what you said."

I gave her a look at that statement and she blushed.

"Oh, please," I entreated, "tell me how to scare you again. Ah, better not. It would probably be the death of me."

"You deliberately set out to seduce me, no matter what I wanted."

"Ah, no. I set out to spank you and I was fairly sure you didn't want me to. Everything else was serendipity."

"You had no right to spank me," she pointed out, apparently feeling on safer ground discussing that.

"A matter of opinion. I think I had some justification. Didn't you enjoy the spanking? I know I did."

"No, I didn't. If you ever try anything like that again I'll, I'll. . ."

Her voice trailed off. Apparently she couldn't think of anything horrible enough to do to me.

I laughed and rose to my feet. Bending down I grabbed her hand and helped her to stand.

"I'll tell you what. If I ever feel the urge to spank you again I'll go straight to the pussy paddling stage. We'll see how that goes. I'm hot and sticky and the water looks good. You might as well join me in the pool."

I turned and walked into the water, towing her behind me. She came readily enough, just lagging behind sufficiently to let me know it was under protest. I wondered how much persuasion would be needed when I wanted a second course. Not much, I decided, but definitely some. She would want to make sure that I knew she was resisting my charms and was capitulating under protest. That was OK, as I was pretty sure that as long as she knew that I knew she wasn't willing she'd yield quite nicely.