It was too hot to climb. We had gotten up early in the morning, and done a couple routes. There were three of us: Steph, Anna, and Me. Climbing as a trio was a little slow, but it was a lot of fun; and it was doubly fun because it was just us girls.
It was late morning, and the sun was beating down on the cliff. It must have already been up in the 90s, and it was humid. We were all sweating. It was time to stop, to rehydrate, to go for a swim and take a nap until the afternoon heat started to recede. We packed up our ropes and gear, and headed up the carriage road toward our secret swimming hole.
I had met Steph at work. She was beautiful. If I had been interested in women, she would have been it: slim but not skinny; bright blue eyes and long blonde hair; intelligent and funny and outgoing. And a really nice person. We had been working together for six months before we realized that we both climbed in the Shawanagunk Mountains. All spring, we had been climbing together almost every nice weekend.
Anna was a friend of Steph’s. She was new to climbing; Steph knew her from the gym. She was a fun, sunny person, with short dark hair, big brown eyes, freckles, and a cute smile that always seemed to light up her face. She was in really good shape, and was quickly becoming a strong climber.
It was a mile or so to walk to our swimming hole. I don’t know if it really is a secret, but I’ve never seen anyone else there in the two years since I discovered it. As we walked, Anna and Steph talked and laughed, discussing the morning’s adventures, politics, and the cute boys we had seen at the cliff. I preferred to walk in silence, listening and occasionally adding my two cents worth, but mostly thinking and remembering. I have never been accused of having a bubbly personality.
After the long walk in the hot sun, jumping into the cold mountain water was going to be an intense pleasure. We all looked forward to it with trepidation. Our pool was well away from the trail, a rocky shelf hidden in the woods. The stream ran through a natural fissure in the rock, splashed down a small waterfall, and formed a deep pool before flowing off into the forest. The water, even in the heat of summer, was icy cold.
We stripped down to our underwear. Anna peeled off her sports bra, setting her large, full breasts free. I had to admit, she had a really nice pair of tits. I’ve always been rather glad that mine are no more than a mouthful; but Anna’s almost made me jealous: large and round and firm, maybe a 36C; with large brown areola. She seemed totally unselfconscious about being topless. On impulse, I joined her, pulling off my top and baring my own breasts.
(more…)
