"So you're really leaving?" Candy asked
as she circled the
rear of Betty's car. Betty was trying to make room for the
suitcases still in the bar. After dancing professionally for
almost three years, she had dozens of outfits to put in the
trunk
yet. Betty had a strange relationship with Candy, a fellow
dancer at the club. While maintaining the facade of
friendship,
they were always like fighters circling for better position
before the kill. They were openly friendly, but the teasing,
taunting, and competition always went just a little too far.
"I told you I was," Betty said in a
preoccupied manner, "I
already have a job offer in New York."
"So I guess I get the club all to
myself," Candy said with
genuine sadness.
"Not really, there's five other girls to
compete with you
know?"
"They don't count. Only you could
threaten my number one
spot. Almost."
"You wish," Betty said automatically.
"So when are you leaving?"
"Tomorrow morning, about five," Betty
said with a giant heave
that finally made room for the last suitcases.
"Well I wish you luck and I really mean
that. You never did
fit in with the bayou way of life around here. Speaking of
which, you promised to go out fishing with me and you never did.
You couldn't be a little scared, are you?" Candy asked
tauntingly.
"I haven't seen a damned thing in this
state to be afraid of,
Candy, and few things that I like. But you really are one of
them," Betty finally admitted. The double meaning of the
phrase
seemed to roll off Candy.
Betty finally sighed and turned to face
Candy. She really
was a bright, beautiful young girl. "If you've got the time
I'll
go out with you now," Betty finally relented. "It's a good
way
to burn off a few hours and it gives us a chance to talk."
"This is one of the best spots," Candy
said as the boat
slowed in the calm waters. "Don't put your hands in the
water,
there's gators and snakes around here. By the way, if you've
ever wanted to see the famous Captain's Chair, this is it,"
Candy
pointed at a cypress with a huge network of roots spreading
out
into the water. Long ago a strong wind had nearly uprooted
the
old tree, leaving a living network of roots striving to get
back
into the mud where they belonged. The Captain's Chair had been
a
local legend for over 20 years. With little safe land in the
bayou some young teens had gotten the idea of having sex on
the
safe little island formed by the roots of the cypress.
Afterwards they noticed that the place resembled a large
chair
with a footstool at the base. They used the term Captain's
Chair
for the area and the name stuck. Now anyone who was daring
headed for the bayou and made love in the Captain's Chair.
Betty
had heard of it, of course, but she had never been there.
"Have you been done in the Captain's
Chair?" Betty asked
teasingly.
"Twelve times. I think it's some kind of
record," Candy said
as she swung her fishing pole over the side of the bass boat
and
easily cast close to the Captain's Chair. "I'm hoping to make
it
thirteen real soon. How about you?"
"No, never," Betty said, trying to copy
Candy's actions. Her
bobber landed a pathetic six feet from the boat.
The boat drifted toward the Captain's
Chair. Betty noticed
that the roots forming the chair were worn smooth. Lot's of
people had obviously visited the chair in the past 20 years,
Betty thought to herself.
"Why don't you sit in the chair so you
can at least say
you've been there?" Candy said innocently. "The fish aren't
biting anyway."
Betty felt silly, but as the boat touched
the network of
roots she climbed up swiftly. She had half expected to see
used
condoms and beer bottles, but all she saw were the roots.
The
chair fit comfortably against her bottom. It had been worn
smooth by a lot of teens. She started to sit back and lift
her
head in a regal pose, when she suddenly noticed that the boat
was
drifting away.
"Hey Candy, come back here," Betty
yelled.
"Nope," Candy said, casting her bait to
the side. She began
reeling in her bait while giving Betty a sweet smile.
"Come on Candy, this isn't funny," Betty
said, checking the
surrounding water nervously. Could snakes climb trees?
"I want something first," Candy said,
casting again in
unconcern.
"What?" Betty yelled in fear and
irritation.
"I want to do you in the Captain's
Chair," Candy said,
turning slightly red. "I never would have asked before, but
with
you leaving it's the perfect opportunity and probably the
only
time I can."
"NO WAY!"
"It's a long swim," Candy said,
pretending to check the water
for nasties.
"You wouldn't dare. I'll... I'll have
you arrested," Betty
said lamely.
"For what? Face up to it, Betty, the
only way you're getting
back is in this boat. But you don't get into this boat until
I've had a chance to fulfill my fantasy. Come on, Betty,
haven't
you ever thought of it? Just picture it, you, the best
looking
brunette in the county, being done by me, the best looking
blonde. How can you pass that up?" Candy said with a
pleading
note in her voice. Betty finally realized that she was
entirely
serious. She would never get to shore unless she cooperated.
The worst thing was, people thought she had already gone to
New
York. Nobody would come looking for her and the Captain's
Chair
might not be used for days or weeks.
"I hate lesbians," Betty said in a growl
of disgust.
"I'm not lesbian, I'm bi."
"Same thing," Betty said. She looked
around to make sure
there were no other boats then reluctantly undid the buttons
on
her shirt. Candy let out a triumphant "yes" and used the
little
motor to push the boat against the tree. She tied off the
bow
and climbed up to the first level of roots. Betty was just
slipping out of her levies.
"Your panties too," Candy commanded
eagerly.
"Shit," Betty said and slid off the
panties in embarrassment........can you guess the rest ? read sexstories at smuterotica click here